News of the appearance of the plague in the house of Costobarus
traveled fast after the death of the gardener, who had fallen in the
open and in sight of the watchful inhabitants of Ascalon. So by the
time the house servants of the merchant were made aware of their peril
by the death of one of their own number, Philip of Tyre with the
courage of affection and loyalty stood on the threshold of the
guest-chamber informed of the situation and prepared to help. Hannah,
supported by the Tyrian's assurance of her rescue and protection,
succeeded in urging Costobarus and Laodice not to delay for her to the
peril of the thrice precious daughter.
So with his house yet ringing with the first convulsion of terror
Costobarus ordered his party with all haste to the camels.
Keturah, Laodice's handmaiden, had fainted with terror and was carried
parcel-wise over the great arm of Momus, the mute, out into the street
and deposited summarily on the floor of Laodice's bamboo howdah. The
camel-driver, Hiram, seemed only a little less stupefied than she. The
mute, with a face as determined and threatening as an uplifted gad,
drove him from the shelter of a dark corner out to his place on the
neck of his master's camel. Aquila, the emissary, showed the
immemorial composure in the face of disaster that was the badge of the
Roman in the days of the degenerate Cæsars, and, mounting his horse
when the rest of the party were in their places, headed the procession
toward the northeast.
From an upper window behind a lattice, Hannah cried her farewells and
fluttered her scarf. She was smiling the drawn, white smile of a
mother who is forcing herself to be cheerful in the face of danger,
for the peace of those she loves. Laodice understood the tender
deception and when a sharp turn of the street cut off the sight of the
plumy trees of the garden, she covered her face and wept inconsolably.
On either side of the passage there came muffled sounds from houses;
out of open alleys leading into interior courts stole the fetor of
death that even the spice of burning unguents could not smother. The
whole air shuddered with the drumming of heathen physicians in the
pagan quarters, through which the silence of long stretches of
ominously quiet houses shouted its meaning. At times frantic barefoot
flights could be glimpsed as households deserted stricken houses, but
whatever outcry arose came from bedsides. Ascalon fled as a frightened
animal flees, silently and under cover.
They rode now through a shrieking wind, burdened with sallow smoke and
dreadful odors. Denser and denser the cloud grew till the streets
ahead were hidden in yellow vapor and near-by houses loomed with dim
outlines as if far off, and even the sounds of death and disaster
became choked in the immense prevalence of smell. Blinded, with scarf
and kerchief wrapped over mouth and nostril, the fleeing party swept
down upon the very heart of that stifling mystery. Through it
presently, as the houses thinned out, they saw cores of great heat
surmounted by black-tipped flames that crackled savagely. Momus, now
in the lead, turned sharply to his right and the next instant had the
wind behind him. Almost involuntarily each member of the party looked
back. Outside the breach of the broken wall, standing clear to view
with the wind from the hills sweeping townward from them, were
diabolical figures, naked and black, feeding immense pyres with
hideous fuel.