CHAPTER VI

  CALEB

  It may be wondered whether any girl who was ever born into the worldcould boast a stranger or a happier upbringing than Miriam. She was, itis true, motherless, but by way of compensation Fate endowed her withseveral hundred fathers, each of whom loved her as the apple of hiseye. She did not call them "Father" indeed, a term which under thecircumstances they thought incorrect. To her, one and all, they wentby the designation of "Uncle," with their name added if she happened toknow it, if not as Uncle simply. It cannot be said, however, that Miriambrought peace to the community of the Essenes. Indeed, before she haddone with them she rent it with deep and abiding jealousies, to theintense but secret delight of Nehushta, who, although she became aperson of great importance among them as the one who had immediatecharge of their jewel, could never forgive them certain of theirdoctrines or their habit of persistent interference.

  The domiciliary visits which took place twice a week, and, by specialsubsequent resolution passed in full Court, on the Sabbath also,were, to begin with, the subject of much covert bitterness. At first astanding committee was appointed to make these visits, of whom Ithielwas one. Before two years had gone by, however, much murmuring arosein the community upon this matter. It was pointed out in language thatbecame vehement--for an Essene--that so much power should not be left inthe hands of one fixed set of individuals, who might become careless orprejudiced, or, worst of all, neglectful of the welfare of the child whowas the guest not of them only, but of the whole order. It was demanded,therefore, that this committee should change automatically every month,so that all might serve upon it in turn, Ithiel, as the blood-relationof Miriam, remaining its only permanent member. This proposal wasopposed by the committee, but as no one else would vote for them thedesired alteration was made. Further, to be removed temporarily, orfor good, from its roster was thenceforth recognised as one of thepunishments of the order.

  Indeed, the absurdities to which its existence gave rise, especially asthe girl grew in years, sweetness and beauty, cannot be numbered. Thus,every visiting member must wash his whole person and clothe himself inclean garments before he was allowed to approach the child, "lest heshould convey to her any sickness, or impure substance, or odour."Then there was much trouble because some members were discovered tobe ingratiating themselves with Miriam by secretly presenting her withgifts of playthings, some of them of great beauty, which they fashionedfrom wood, shells, or even hard stones. Moreover, they purveyed articlesof food such as they found the child loved; and this it was that ledto their detection, for, having eaten of them, she was ill. ThereuponNehushta, enraged, disclosed the whole plot, using the most violentlanguage, and, amidst murmurs of "Shame on them!" designating theoffenders by name. They were removed from their office, and it wasdecreed that henceforth any gifts made to the child must be offered toher by the committee as a whole, and not by a single individual, andhanded over in their name by Ithiel, her uncle.

  Once, when she was seven years old, and the idol of every brother amongthe Essenes, Miriam fell ill with a kind of fever which often strikeschildren in the neighbourhood of Jericho and the Dead Sea. Among thebrethren were several skilful and famous physicians, who attended hernight and day. But still the fever could not be abated, and at last,with tears, they announced that they feared for the child's life. Thenindeed there was lamentation among the Essenes. For three days and threenights did they wrestle in constant prayer to God that she might bespared, many of them touching nothing but water during all that time.Moreover, they sat about at a distance from her house, praying andseeking tidings. If it was bad they beat their breasts, if good theygave thanks. Never was the sickbed of a monarch watched with morecare or devotion than that of this little orphan, and never wasa recovery--for at length she did recover--received with greaterthankfulness and joy.

  This was the truth. These pure and simple men, in obedience to thestrict rule they had adopted, were cut off from all the affections oflife. Yet, the foundation-stone of their doctrine being Love, theywho were human must love something, so they loved this child whom theylooked upon as their ward, and who, as there was none other of her ageand sex in their community, had no rival in their hearts. She was theone joy of their laborious and ascetic hours; she represented all thesweetness and youth of this self-renewing world, which to them was sogrey and sapless. Moreover, she was a lovely maid, who, wherever she hadbeen placed, would have bound all to her.

  The years went by and the time came when, in obedience to the firstdecree, Miriam must be educated. Long were the discussions which ensuedamong the curators of the Essenes. At length three of the most learnedof their body were appointed to this task, and the teaching began. Asit chanced, Miriam proved an apt pupil, for her memory was good, andshe had a great desire to learn many things, more especially history andlanguages, and all that has to do with nature. One of her tutors was anEgyptian, who, brought up in the priests' college at Thebes, when ona journey to Judaea had fallen sick near Jericho, been nursed by theEssenes and converted to their doctrine. From him Miriam learnt muchof their ancient civilisation, and even of the inner mysteries of theEgyptian religion, and of its high and secret interpretations which wereknown only to the priests. The second, Theophilus by name, was a Greekwho had visited Rome, and he taught her the tongues and literature ofthose countries. The third, all his life long had studied beasts andbirds and insects, and the workings of nature, and the stars and theirmovements, in which things he instructed her day by day, taking herabroad with him that examples of each of them might be before her eyes.

  Lastly, when she grew older, there was a fourth master, who was anartist. He taught Miriam how to model animals, and even men, in the clayof the Jordan, and how to carve them out in marble, and something of theuse of pigments. Also this man, who was very clever, had a knowledgeof singing and instrumental music, which he imparted to her in her oddhours. Thus it came about that Miriam grew learned and well acquaintedwith many matters of which most girls of her day and years had nevereven heard. Nor did she lack knowledge of the things of her own faith,though in these the Essenes did not instruct her further than itsdoctrines tallied with their own. Of the rest, Nehushta told hersomething; moreover, on several occasions Christian travellers orpreachers visited this country to address the Essenes or the other Jewswho dwelt there. When they learned her case, these showed themselvesvery eager to inform her of the Christian doctrine. Among them was oneold man who had heard the preaching of Jesus Christ, and been presentat His Crucifixion, to all of which histories the girl listened witheagerness, remembering them to the last hour of her life.

  Further, and perhaps this was the best part of her education, she livedin the daily company of Nature. But a mile or two away spread the DeadSea, and along its melancholy and lifeless shores, fringed with thewhite trunks of trees that had been brought down by Jordan, she wouldoften walk. Before her day by day loomed the mountains of Moab, whilebehind her were the fantastic and mysterious sand-hills of the desert,backed again by other mountains and that grey, tormented country whichstretches between Jericho and Jerusalem. Quite near at hand also ran thebroad and muddy Jordan, whose fertile banks were clothed in springwith the most delicious greenery and haunted by kingfishers, cranes,wildfowl, and many other birds. About these banks, too, stretching intothe desert land beyond, the flowers of the field grew by myriads, atdifferent periods of the year carpeting the whole earth with variouscolours, brilliant as are those of the rainbow. These it was her delightto gather, and even to cultivate in the garden of her house.

  Thus wisdom, earthly and divine, was gathered in Miriam's heart tillvery soon its light began to shine through her eyes and face, makingthem ever more tender and beautiful. Nor did she lack charm and grace ofperson. From the first, in stature she was small and delicate, pale alsoin complexion; but her dark hair was plenteous and curling, and her eyeswere large and of a deep and tender blue. Her hands and feet were veryslender, and her every gesture quick and agile as that of a bird. Thu
sshe grew up loving all things and beloved by all; for even the flowerswhich she tended and the creatures that she fed, seemed in her to find afriend.

  Now of so much learning and all this system of solemn ordered hours,Nehushta did not approve. For a while she bore with it, but when Miriamwas about eleven years of age, she spoke her mind to the Committee andthrough them to the governing Court of Curators.

  Was it right that a child should be brought up thus, she asked, andturned into a grave old woman whilst, quite heedless of such things,others of her age were occupied with youthful games? The end of it mightbe that her brain would break and she would die or become crazy, andthen what good would so much wisdom do her? It was necessary thatshe should have more leisure and other children with whom she couldassociate.

  "White-bearded hermits," she added with point, "were not suitable assole companions to a little maid."

  Thereon followed much debate and consultation with the doctors, whoagreed that friends of her own years should be found for the child.This, however, proved difficult, since among these Essenes were no othergirls. Therefore those friends must be of the male sex. Here too weredifficulties, as at that time, of the lads adopted by this particularcommunity which they were destined to join in after days, there was butone of equal birth with Miriam. Now so far as concerned their ownorder the Essenes thought little of social distinctions, or even of thedifferences of blood and race. But Miriam was not of their order; shewas their guest, no more, to whom they stood in the place of parents,and who would go from them out into the great world. Therefore,notwithstanding their childlike simplicity, being, many of them, menexperienced in life, they did not think it right that she should mixwith those of lower breeding.

  This one lad, Caleb by name, was born in the same year as Miriam, whenCuspius Fadus became governor on the death of Agrippa. His father wasJew of very high rank named Hilliel, who, although he sided from timeto time with the Roman party, was killed by them, or perished among thetwenty thousand who were trampled to death at the Feast of the Passoverat Jerusalem, when Cumanus, the Procurator, ordered his soldiers toattack the people. Thereon the Zealots, who considered him a traitor,managed to get possession of all his property, so that his son Caleb,whose mother was dead, was brought in a destitute condition by oneof her friends to Jericho. There, as she could not dispose of himotherwise, he was given over to the Essenes, to be educated in theirdoctrine, and, should he wish it, to enter their order when he reachedfull age. This lad, it was now decreed, should become the playmate ofMiriam, a decision that pleased both of them very well.

  Caleb was a handsome child with quick, dark eyes that watched everythingwithout seeming to watch, and black hair which curled upon hisshoulders. He was clever also and brave; but though he did his best tocontrol his temper, by nature very passionate and unforgiving. Moreover,that which he desired he would have, if by any means it could beobtained, and was faithful in his loves as in his hates. Of these hatesNehushta was one. With all the skill of a Libyan, whose only book isthat of Nature and men's faces, she read the boy's heart at once andsaid openly that he might come to be the first in any cause--if he didnot betray it--and that when God mixed his blood of the best, lest Caesarshould find a rival He left out the salt of honesty and filled up thecup with the wine of passion. When these sayings were repeated to Calebby Miriam, who thought them to be a jest fit to tease her playmatewith, he did not fly into one of his tempers, as she had hoped, but onlyscrewed up his eyelids after his fashion in certain moods, and lookedblack as the rain-storm above Mount Nebo.

  "Did you hear, Caleb?" asked Miriam, somewhat disappointed.

  "Oh, yes! Lady Miriam," for so he had been ordered to call her. "Iheard. Do you tell that old black woman that I will lead more causesthan she ever thought of, for I mean to be the first everywhere. Alsothat whatever God left out of my cup, at least He mixed it with a goodmemory."

  When Nehushta heard this, she laughed and said that it was true enough,only he that tried to climb several ladders at once generally fell tothe ground, and that when a head had said good-bye to its shoulders, thebest of memories got lost between the two.

  Miriam liked Caleb, but she never loved him as she did the old men, heruncles, or Nehushta, who to her was more than all. Perhaps this may havebeen because he never grew angry with her whatever she might say or do,never even spoke to her roughly, but always waited on her pleasureand watched for her wish. Still, of all companions he was the best. IfMiriam desired to walk by the Dead Sea, he would desire the same. Ifshe wanted to go fishing in the Jordan, he would make ready the baits ornet, and take the fishes off the hook--a thing she hated. If she soughta rare flower, Caleb would hunt it out for days, although she knew wellthat in himself he did not care for flowers, and when he had found it,would mark the spot and lead her there in triumph. Also there was thisabout him, as she was soon quick enough to learn: he worshipped her.Whatever else might be false, that note in his nature rang true. If onechild could love another, then Caleb loved Miriam, first with the loveof children, then as a man loves a woman. Only--and this was the sorrowof it--Miriam never loved Caleb. Had she done so both their storieswould have been very different. To her he was a clever companion and nomore.

  What made the thing more strange was that he loved no one else, except,mayhap, himself. In this way and in that the lad soon came to learn hisown history, which was sad enough, with the result that if he hated theRomans who had invaded the country and trampled it beneath their heel,still more did he hate those of the Jews who looked upon his fatheras their enemy and had stolen all the lands and goods that were his byright. As for the Essenes who reared and protected him, so soon ashe came to an age when he could weigh such matters, he held them incontempt, and because of their continual habit of bathing themselves andpurifying their garments, called them the company of washer-women. Onhim their doctrines left but a shallow mark. He thought, as he explainedto Miriam, that people who were in the world should take the world asthey found it, without dreaming ceaselessly of another world to which,as yet, they did not belong; a sentiment that to some extent Nehushtashared.

  Wishing, with the zeal of the young, to make a convert, Miriam preachedto him the doctrine of Christianity, but without success. By blood Calebwas a Jew of the Jews, and could not understand or admire a God whowould consent to be trodden under foot and crucified. The Messiah hedesired to follow must be a great conqueror, one who would overthrowthe Caesars and take the throne of Caesar, not a humble creature withhis mouth full of maxims. Like the majority of his own, and, indeed,of every generation, to the last day of his life, Caleb was unable todivine that mind is greater than matter, while spirit is greaterthan mind; and that in the end, by many slow advances and after manydisasters seemingly irremediable, spirituality will conquer all. Helooked to a sword flashing from thrones, not to the word of truth spokenby lowly lips in humble streets or upon the flanks of deserts, trustingto the winds of Grace to bear it into the hearts of men and thusregenerate their souls.

  Such was Caleb, and these things are said of him here because the childis father to the man.

  Swiftly the years went by. There were tumults in Judaea and massacres inJerusalem. False prophets such as Theudas, who pretended that he coulddivide Jordan, attracted thousands to their tinsel standards, to be hewndown, poor folk! by the Roman legions. Caesars rose and fell; the greatTemple was at length almost completed in its glory, and many eventshappened which are remembered even to this day.

  But in the little village of the Essenes by the grey shores of the DeadSea, nothing seemed to change, except that now and again an aged brotherdied, and now and again a new brother was admitted. They rose beforedaylight and offered their invocation to the sun; they went out totoil in the fields and sowed their crops, to reap them in due season,thankful if they were good, still thankful if they were bad. Theywashed, they prayed, they mourned over the wickedness of the world, andwove themselves white garments emblematic of a better. Also, althoughof this Miriam knew nothing, they held
higher and more secret serviceswherein they invoked the presence of their "angels," and by arts ofdivination that were known to them, foretold the future, an exercisewhich brought them little joy. But as yet, however evil might be theomens, none came to molest their peaceful life, which ran quietlytowards the great catastrophe as often deep waters swirl to the lip of aprecipice.

  At length when Miriam was seventeen years of age, the first stroke oftrouble fell upon them.

  From time to time the high priests at Jerusalem, who hated the Essenesas heretics, had made demands upon them that they should pay tithe forthe support of the sacrifices in the Temple. This they refused to do,since all sacrifices were hateful to them. So things went on until theday of the high priest Ananos, who sent armed men to the village of theEssenes to take the tithes. These were refused to them, whereon theybroke open the granary and helped themselves, destroying a great dealwhich they could not carry away. As it chanced, on that day Miriam,accompanied by Nehushta, had visited Jericho. Returning in the afternoonthey passed through a certain torrent bed in which were many rocks, andamong them thickets of thorn trees. Here they were met by Caleb, nowa noble-looking youth very strong and active, who carried a bow in hishand and on his back a sheath of six arrows.

  "Lady Miriam," he said, "well met. I have come to seek you, and towarn you not to return by the road to-day, since on it you will meetpresently those thieves sent by the high priest to plunder the stores ofthe Order, who, perhaps, will offer you insult or mischief, for they aredrunk with wine. Look, one of them has struck me," and he pointed to abruise upon his shoulder and scowled.

  "What then shall we do?" asked Miriam. "Go back to Jericho?"

  "Nay, for there they will come too. Follow up this gully till you reachthe footpath a mile away, and by it walk to the village; so you willmiss these robbers."

  "That is a good plan," said Nehushta. "Come, lady."

  "Whither are you going, Caleb?" asked Miriam, lingering, since she sawthat he did not mean to accompany them.

  "I? Oh, I shall hide among the rocks near by till the men are passed,and then go to seek that hyena which has been worrying the sheep. I havetracked him down and may catch him as he comes from his hole at sunset.That is why I have brought my bow and arrows."

  "Come," broke in Nehushta impatiently, "come. The lad well knows how toguard himself."

  "Be careful, Caleb, that you get no hurt from the hyena," said Miriam,doubtfully, as Nehushta seized her by the wrist and dragged her away."It is strange," she added as they went, "that Caleb should choose thisevening to go hunting."

  "Unless I mistake, it is a human hyena whom he hunts," answered Nehushtashortly. "One of those men struck him, and he desires to wash the woundwith his blood."

  "Oh, surely not! Nou. That would be taking vengeance, and revenge isevil."

  Nehushta shrugged her shoulders. "Caleb may think otherwise, as I do attimes. Wait, and we shall see."

  As it chanced, they did see something. The footpath by which theyreturned to the village ran over a high ridge of ground, and from itscrest, although they were a mile or more away, in that clear desertair they could easily discern the line of the high priest's servantsstraggling along, driving before them a score or so of mules, laden withwine and other produce which they had stolen from the stores. Presentlythe company of them descended into that gully along which the road ran,whence a minute or two later rose a sound of distant shouting. Then theyappeared on the further side, running, or riding their beasts hitherand thither, as though in search of some one, while four of them carriedbetween them a man who seemed to be hurt, or dead.

  "I think that Caleb has shot his hyena," said Nehushta meaningly; "butI have seen nothing, and if you are wise, you will say nothing. I do notlike Caleb, but I hate these Jewish thieves, and it is not for you tobring your friend into trouble."

  Miriam looked frightened but nodded her head, and no more was said ofthe matter.

  That evening, as Miriam and Nehushta stood at the door of their house inthe cool, by the light of the full moon they saw Caleb advancing towardsthem down the road, a sight that made Miriam glad at heart, for shefeared lest he might have come into trouble. Catching sight of them, heasked permission to enter through the door, which he closed behind them,so that now they stood in the little garden within the wall.

  "Well," said Nehushta, "I see that you had a shot at your hyena; did youkill it?"

  "How do you know that?" he asked, looking at her suspiciously.

  "A strange question to put to a Libyan woman who was brought up amongbowmen," she replied. "You had six arrows in your quiver when we metyou, and now I count but five. Also your bow was newly waxed; and look,the wax is rubbed where the shaft lay."

  "I shot at the beast, and, as I think, hit it. At least, I could notfind the arrow again, although I searched long."

  "Doubtless. You do not often miss. You have a good eye and a steadyhand. Well, the loss of a shaft will not matter, since I noticed,also, that this one was differently barbed from the others, and doublefeathered; a true Roman war-shaft, such as they do not make here. Ifany find your wounded beast you will not get its hide, since it is knownthat you do not use such arrows." Then, with a smile that was full ofmeaning, Nehushta turned and entered the house, leaving him staringafter her, half in wrath and half in wonder at her wit.

  "What does she mean?" he asked Miriam, but in the voice of one whospeaks to himself.

  "She thinks that you shot at a man, not at a beast," replied Miriam;"but I know well that you could not have done this, since that would beagainst the rule of the Essenes."

  "Even the rule of the Essenes permits a man to protect himself and hisproperty from thieves," he answered sulkily.

  "Yes, to protect himself if he is attacked, and his property--if he hasany. But neither that faith nor mine permits him to avenge a blow."

  "I was one against many," he answered boldly. "My life was on thehazard: it was no coward's act."

  "Were there, then, a troop of these hyenas?" asked Miriam, innocently."I thought you said it was a solitary beast that took the sheep."

  "It was a whole company of beasts who took the wine, and smote those incharge of it as though they were street dogs."

  "Hyenas that took wine like the tame ape whom the boys make drunken overyonder----"

  "Why do you mock me," broke in Caleb, "who must know the truth? Or ifyou do not know it, here it is. That thief beat me with his staff, andcalled me the son of a dog, and I swore that I would pay him back. Payhim back I did, for the head of that shaft which Nehushta noted, standsout a span beyond his neck. They never saw who shot it; they never sawme at all, who thought at first that the man had fallen from his horse.By the time they knew the truth I was away where they could not follow.Now go and tell the story if you will, or let Nehushta, who hates me,tell it, and give me over to be tortured by the servants of the highpriest, or crucified as a murderer by the Romans."

  "Neither Nehushta nor I saw this deed done, nor shall we bear witnessagainst you, Caleb, or judge you, who doubtless were provoked by violentand lawless men. Yet, Caleb, you told me that you came out to warn us,and it grieves me to learn that the true wish of your heart was to takethe life of a man."

  "It is false," he answered angrily; "I said that I came to warn you, andafterwards to kill a hyena. To make you safe--that was my first thought,and until you were safe my enemy was safe also. Miriam, you know itwell."

  "Why should I know it? To you, Caleb, I think revenge is more thanfriendship."

  "Perhaps; for I have few friends who am a penniless orphan brought up bycharity. But, Miriam, to me revenge is not more than--love."

  "Love," she stammered, turning crimson to her hair and stepping back apace; "what do you mean, Caleb?"

  "What I say, neither more nor less," he answered sullenly. "As I haveworked one crime to-day, I may as well work two, and dare to tell thelady Miriam, the Queen of the Essenes, that I love her, though she lovesnot me--as yet."

  "This is madnes
s," faltered Miriam.

  "Mayhap, but it is a madness which began when first I saw you--that wassoon after we learned to speak--a madness which will continue until Icease to see you, and that shall be soon before I grow silent forever.Listen, Miriam, and do not think my words only those of a foolish boy,for all my life shall prove them. This love of mine is a thing withwhich you must reckon. You love me not--therefore, even had I the power,I would not force myself upon you against your will; only I warn you,learn to love no other man, for then it shall go ill either with him orwith me. By this I swear it," and, snatching her to him, Caleb kissedher on the forehead, then let her go, saying, "Fear not. It is the firstand last time, except by your own will. Or if you fear, tell the storyto the Court of the Essenes, and--to Nehushta, who will right yourwrongs."

  "Caleb," she gasped, stamping her foot upon the ground in anger, "Caleb,you are more wicked than I dreamed, and," she added, as though toherself--"and greater!"

  "Yes," he answered, as he turned to go, "I think that you are right. Iam more wicked than you dreamed and--greater. Also, Miriam, I love youas you will never be loved again. Farewell!"