CHAPTER VIII
As Ben-Hur descended the steps of the stand, an Arab arose uponthe last one at the foot, and cried out,
"Men of the East and West--hearken! The good Sheik Ilderim givethgreeting. With four horses, sons of the favorites of Solomon theWise, he hath come up against the best. Needs he most a mighty manto drive them. Whoso will take them to his satisfaction, to himhe promiseth enrichment forever. Here--there--in the city and inthe Circuses, and wherever the strong most do congregate, tell yethis his offer. So saith my master, Sheik Ilderim the Generous."
The proclamation awakened a great buzz among the people underthe awning. By night it would be repeated and discussed in allthe sporting circles of Antioch. Ben-Hur, hearing it, stopped andlooked hesitatingly from the herald to the sheik. Malluch thought hewas about to accept the offer, but was relieved when he presently turnedto him, and asked, "Good Malluch, where to now?"
The worthy replied, with a laugh, "Would you liken yourself toothers visiting the Grove for the first time, you will straightwayto hear your fortune told."
"My fortune, said you? Though the suggestion has in it a flavorof unbelief, let us to the goddess at once."
"Nay, son of Arrius, these Apollonians have a better trick thanthat. Instead of speech with a Pythia or a Sibyl, they will sellyou a plain papyrus leaf, hardly dry from the stalk, and bid youdip it in the water of a certain fountain, when it will show youa verse in which you may hear of your future."
The glow of interest departed from Ben-Hur's face.
"There are people who have no need to vex themselves about theirfuture," he said, gloomily.
"Then you prefer to go to the temples?"
"The temples are Greek, are they not?"
"They call them Greek."
"The Hellenes were masters of the beautiful in art; but in architecturethey sacrificed variety to unbending beauty. Their temples are all alike.How call you the fountain?"
"Castalia."
"Oh! it has repute throughout the world. Let us thither."
Malluch kept watch on his companion as they went, and saw thatfor the moment at least his good spirits were out. To the peoplepassing he gave no attention; over the wonders they came uponthere were no exclamations; silently, even sullenly, he kept aslow pace.
The truth was, the sight of Messala had set Ben-Hur to thinking.It seemed scarce an hour ago that the strong hands had torn himfrom his mother, scarce an hour ago that the Roman had put sealupon the gates of his father's house. He recounted how, in thehopeless misery of the life--if such it might be called--inthe galleys, he had had little else to do, aside from labor,than dream dreams of vengeance, in all of which Messala was theprincipal. There might be, he used to say to himself, escape forGratus, but for Messala--never! And to strengthen and harden hisresolution, he was accustomed to repeat over and over, Who pointedus out to the persecutors? And when I begged him for help--not formyself--who mocked me, and went away laughing? And always the dreamhad the same ending. The day I meet him, help me, thou good God ofmy people!--help me to some fitting special vengeance!
And now the meeting was at hand.
Perhaps, if he had found Messala poor and suffering, Ben-Hur'sfeeling had been different; but it was not so. He found himmore than prosperous; in the prosperity there was a dash andglitter--gleam of sun on gilt of gold.
So it happened that what Malluch accounted a passing loss ofspirit was pondering when the meeting should be, and in whatmanner he could make it most memorable.
They turned after a while into an avenue of oaks, where the peoplewere going and coming in groups; footmen here, and horsemen;there women in litters borne slaves; and now and then chariotsrolled by thunderously.
At the end of the avenue the road, by an easy grade, descended intoa lowland, where, on the right hand, there was a precipitous facing ofgray rock, and on the left an open meadow of vernal freshness. Then theycame in view of the famous Fountain of Castalia.
Edging through a company assembled at the point, Ben-Hur behelda jet of sweet water pouring from the crest of a stone into abasin of black marble, where, after much boiling and foaming,it disappeared as through a funnel.
By the basin, under a small portico cut in the solid wall, sat apriest, old, bearded, wrinkled, cowled--never being more perfectlyeremitish. From the manner of the people present, hardly might onesay which was the attraction, the fountain, forever sparkling,or the priest, forever there. He heard, saw, was seen, but neverspoke. Occasionally a visitor extended a hand to him with a coinin it. With a cunning twinkle of the eyes, he took the money,and gave the party in exchange a leaf of papyrus.
The receiver made haste to plunge the papyrus into the basin; then,holding the dripping leaf in the sunlight, he would be rewardedwith a versified inscription upon its face; and the fame of thefountain seldom suffered loss by poverty of merit in the poetry.Before Ben-Hur could test the oracle, some other visitors wereseen approaching across the meadow, and their appearance piqued thecuriosity of the company, his not less than theirs.
He saw first a camel, very tall and very white, in leading ofa driver on horseback. A houdah on the animal, besides beingunusually large, was of crimson and gold. Two other horsemenfollowed the camel with tall spears in hand.
"What a wonderful camel!" said one of the company.
"A prince from afar," another one suggested.
"More likely a king."
"If he were on an elephant, I would say he was a king."
A third man had a very different opinion.
"A camel--and a white camel!" he said, authoritatively. "By Apollo,friends, they who come yonder--you can see there are two of them--areneither kings nor princes; they are women!"
In the midst of the dispute the strangers arrived.
The camel seen at hand did not belie his appearance afar. A taller,statelier brute of his kind no traveller at the fountain, thoughfrom the remotest parts, had ever beheld. Such great black eyes!such exceedingly fine white hair! feet so contractile when raised,so soundless in planting, so broad when set!--nobody had ever seenthe peer of this camel. And how well he became his housing of silk,and all its frippery of gold in fringe and gold in tassel! Thetinkling of silver bells went before him, and he moved lightly,as if unknowing of his burden.
But who were the man and woman under the houdah?
Every eye saluted them with the inquiry.
If the former were a prince or a king, the philosophers of thecrowd might not deny the impartiality of Time. When they saw thethin, shrunken face buried under an immense turban, the skin ofthe hue of a mummy, making it impossible to form an idea of hisnationality, they were pleased to think the limit of life was forthe great as well as the small. They saw about his person nothingso enviable as the shawl which draped him.
The woman was seated in the manner of the East, amidst veils andlaces of surpassing fineness. Above her elbows she wore armletsfashioned like coiled asps, and linked to bracelets at the wristsby strands of gold; otherwise the arms were bare and of singularnatural grace, complemented with hands modelled daintily as achild's. One of the hands rested upon the side of the carriage,showing tapered fingers glittering with rings, and stained at thetips till they blushed like the pink of mother-of-pearl. She wore anopen caul upon her head, sprinkled with beads of coral, and strungwith coin-pieces called sunlets, some of which were carried acrossher forehead, while others fell down her back, half-smothered in themass of her straight blue-black hair, of itself an incomparableornament, not needing the veil which covered it, except as aprotection against sun and dust. From her elevated seat shelooked upon the people calmly, pleasantly, and apparently sointent upon studying them as to be unconscious of the interestshe herself was exciting; and, what was unusual--nay, in violentcontravention of the custom among women of rank in public--shelooked at them with an open face.
It was a fair face to see; quite youthful; in form, oval:complexion not white, like the Greek; nor brunet, like theRoman; nor blond, like the Gaul; but rather the
tinting of thesun of the Upper Nile upon a skin of such transparency that theblood shone through it on cheek and brow with nigh the ruddinessof lamplight. The eyes, naturally large, were touched along the lidswith the black paint immemorial throughout the East. The lips wereslightly parted, disclosing, through their scarlet lake, teeth ofglistening whiteness. To all these excellences of countenance thereader is finally besought to superadd the air derived from thepose of a small head, classic in shape, set upon a neck long,drooping, and graceful--the air, we may fancy, happily describedby the word queenly.
As if satisfied with the survey of people and locality, the faircreature spoke to the driver--an Ethiopian of vast brawn, naked tothe waist--who led the camel nearer the fountain, and caused it tokneel; after which he received from her hand a cup, and proceededto fill it at the basin. That instant the sound of wheels and thetrampling of horses in rapid motion broke the silence her beautyhad imposed, and, with a great outcry, the bystanders parted inevery direction, hurrying to get away.
"The Roman has a mind to ride us down. Look out!" Malluch shoutedto Ben-Hur, setting him at the same time an example of hasty flight.
The latter faced to the direction the sounds came from, and beheldMessala in his chariot pushing the four straight at the crowd.This time the view was near and distinct.
The parting of the company uncovered the camel, which might havebeen more agile than his kind generally; yet the hoofs were almostupon him, and he resting with closed eyes, chewing the endless cudwith such sense of security as long favoritism may be supposedto have bred in him. The Ethiopian wrung his hands afraid. In thehoudah, the old man moved to escape; but he was hampered with age,and could not, even in the face of danger, forget the dignity whichwas plainly his habit. It was too late for the woman to save herself.Ben-Hur stood nearest them, and he called to Messala,
"Hold! Look where thou goest! Back, back!"
The patrician was laughing in hearty good-humor; and, seeing therewas but one chance of rescue, Ben-Hur stepped in, and caught thebits of the left yoke-steed and his mate. "Dog of a Roman! Carestthou so little for life?" he cried, putting forth all his strength.The two horses reared, and drew the others round; the tilting of thepole tilted the chariot; Messala barely escaped a fall, while hiscomplacent Myrtilus rolled back like a clod to the ground. Seeingthe peril past, all the bystanders burst into derisive laughter.
The matchless audacity of the Roman then manifested itself.Loosing the lines from his body, he tossed them to one side,dismounted, walked round the camel, looked at Ben-Hur, and spokepartly to the old man and partly to the woman.
"Pardon, I pray you--I pray you both. I am Messala," he said; "and,by the old Mother of the earth, I swear I did not see you or yourcamel! As to these good people--perhaps I trusted too much to myskill. I sought a laugh at them--the laugh is theirs. Good may itdo them!"
The good-natured, careless look and gesture he threw the bystandersaccorded well with the speech. To hear what more he had to say,they became quiet. Assured of victory over the body of the offended,he signed his companion to take the chariot to a safer distance,and addressed himself boldly to the woman.
"Thou hast interest in the good man here, whose pardon, if notgranted now, I shall seek with the greater diligence hereafter;his daughter, I should say."
She made him no reply.
"By Pallas, thou art beautiful! Beware Apollo mistake thee notfor his lost love. I wonder what land can boast herself thy mother.Turn not away. A truce! a truce! There is the sun of India in thineeyes; in the corners of thy mouth, Egypt hath set her love-signs.Perpol! Turn not to that slave, fair mistress, before proving mercifulto this one. Tell me at least that I am pardoned."
At this point she broke in upon him.
"Wilt thou come here?" she asked, smiling, and with gracious bendof the head to Ben-Hur.
"Take the cup and fill it, I pray thee," she said to the latter."My father is thirsty."
"I am thy most willing servant!"
Ben-Hur turned about to do the favor, and was face to face withMessala. Their glances met; the Jew's defiant; the Roman's sparklingwith humor.
"O stranger, beautiful as cruel!" Messala said, waving his hand toher. "If Apollo get thee not, thou shalt see me again. Not knowingthy country, I cannot name a god to commend thee to; so, by allthe gods, I will commend thee to--myself!"
Seeing that Myrtilus had the four composed and ready, he returned tothe chariot. The woman looked after him as he moved away, and whateverelse there was in her look, there was no displeasure. Presently shereceived the water; her father drank; then she raised the cup toher lips, and, leaning down, gave it to Ben-Hur; never action moregraceful and gracious.
"Keep it, we pray of thee! It is full of blessings--all thine!"
Immediately the camel was aroused, and on his feet, and about togo, when the old man called,
"Stand thou here."
Ben-Hur went to him respectfully.
"Thou hast served the stranger well to-day. There is but one God.In his holy name I thank thee. I am Balthasar, the Egyptian.In the Great Orchard of Palms, beyond the village of Daphne,in the shade of the palms, Sheik Ilderim the Generous abideth inhis tents, and we are his guests. Seek us there. Thou shalt havewelcome sweet with the savor of the grateful."
Ben-Hur was left in wonder at the old man's clear voice and reverendmanner. As he gazed after the two departing, he caught sight ofMessala going as he had come, joyous, indifferent, and with amocking laugh.