Project Gutenberg's A Thorny Path [Per Aspera], Complete, by Georg Ebers

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Title: A Thorny Path [Per Aspera], Complete

Author: Georg Ebers

Last Updated: March 9, 2009
Release Date: October 17, 2006 [EBook #5542]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A THORNY PATH [PER ASPERA], ***

Produced by David Widger

A THORNY PATH

By Georg Ebers

Volume 1.

CHAPTER I.

The green screen slowly rose, covering the lower portion of the broad
studio window where Heron, the gem-cutter, was at work. It was Melissa,
the artist's daughter, who had pulled it up, with bended knees and
outstretched arms, panting for breath.

"That is enough!" cried her father's impatient voice. He glanced up at
the flood of light which the blinding sun of Alexandria was pouring into
the room, as it did every autumn afternoon; but as soon as the shadow
fell on his work-table the old man's busy fingers were at work again,
and he heeded his daughter no more.

An hour later Melissa again, and without any bidding, pulled up the
screen as before, but it was so much too heavy for her that the effort
brought the blood into her calm, fair face, as the deep, rough "That is
enough" was again heard from the work-table.

Then silence reigned once more. Only the artist's low whistling as
he worked, or the patter and pipe of the birds in their cages by the
window, broke the stillness of the spacious room, till the voice and
step of a man were presently heard in the anteroom.

Heron laid by his graver and Melissa her gold embroidery, and the eyes
of father and daughter met for the first time for some hours. The very
birds seemed excited, and a starling, which had sat moping since the
screen had shut the sun out, now cried out, "Olympias!" Melissa rose,
and after a swift glance round the room she went to the door, come who
might.

Ay, even if the brother she was expecting should bring a companion, or
a patron of art who desired her father's work, the room need not fear a
critical eye; and she was so well assured of the faultless neatness of
her own person, that she only passed a hand over her brown hair, and
with an involuntary m