Saul of Tarsus: A Tale of the Early Christians

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  THE DREGS OF THE CUP OF FURY

  The great stars were further withdrawn into the immeasurable arch ofblue night; the winds had fled away into the ocean; the bay was angrywith fire for leagues. The space before Lydia was open as far as thereader's stone of the proseucha, for the attacking party had demandedroom for their proceedings. Beyond that was the front of thebesiegers, a sea of bodies lighted by torches, tunics bloody withmurder which had been done, mouths open, teeth shining, and eyes filledwith the fury of bloodthirst.

  As yet she was unnoticed, because the attention of the multitude wasengaged with the assault upon the easternmost gate.

  Lydia's mind did not direct her. It had sunk long ago under the stressof womanly terror. Only an involuntary obedience to an impulseconceived during the last conscious suggestions of her Nazarene faith,moved her toward the reader's stone, straight in the face of themultitude. She went as all young and tender martyrs have gone, withthe spirit already lifted out of the body.

  She mounted the rock; the alabarch, unable to reach her in time, unableto make her hear him, gave up with a groan of despair, and followed her.

  Then the multitude saw and understood.

  A yell of fury went up; a mass of innumerable heads and shoulderslurched toward her. Even the assailants at the gate dropped their ramto come.

  Then up and out of it Marsyas leaped!

  Lydia saw him, and a great light swept over her face. He had come todie with her, to sweeten the bitter martyrdom with the faithfulness ofhis love.

  After Marsyas, the bayadere bounded, as if pitched from the front ofthe wave. Between the murdering front and the three on the stone sheinterposed herself, a creature of primal fury, terrible and ferocious.A torch was in her hand, the badge of eligibility, which had let her tothe forefront of this mob, that received none but destroyers. But thesibilant utterance of the crimson flame, raking the air, and taller byhalf than the screaming fury that whipped it before her, was turnedupon them that had kindled it.

  She carried by its bail a great copper kettle filled with bitumen, but,as she planted feet upon the stone, she dropped her torch and, whirlingupon the wave of fury, swept the full contents of the giant pot overevery face and garment for yards about her. She caught up her torch;the looping flame uncoiled itself like a springing snake and shot downinto the pack. Instantly there was a running flash, the rip ofexplosive ignition, and the breast of the riot turned, each a greattowering flame, and drove itself into the heart of the oncomingthousands behind!

  The rabble in cotton tunics had absolutely no defense against oneanother. The riot of bloodthirst turned instantly into panic and arevel of terrible death. The sound, the scene were indescribably awful.

  In the hideous uproar that ensued, events followed swiftly. Vasti andher tall torch, in fearful fellowship, shrilled and spun on the rock ina frenzy of heathen triumph. Marsyas, for the instant stunned andscorched, flung his arm over his face, to shut out the horror. But theJews, the instant the ram was dropped, realizing that their citadel washopeless with breaches in its gate, and seeing a respite in the riot'sattention upon Lydia, broke from the sanctuary and poured like a sea inflight into the open. The miraculous intervention of the bayadere gavethem the opportunity to save themselves. But when Marsyas came tohimself and sprang to take up Lydia, the inundation of fleeing Jews hadswept over the reader's stone behind him, and Lydia was gone!