CHAPTER XI
What time the lower horn of a new moon touched the castellatedpiles on Mount Sulpius, and two thirds of the people of Antiochwere out on their house-tops comforting themselves with the nightbreeze when it blew, and with fans when it failed, Simonides satin the chair which had come to be a part of him, and from theterrace looked down over the river, and his ships a-swing attheir moorings. The wall at his back cast its shadow broadly overthe water to the opposite shore. Above him the endless tramp uponthe bridge went on. Esther was holding a plate for him containinghis frugal supper--some wheaten cakes, light as wafers, some honey,and a bowl of milk, into which he now and then dipped the wafersafter dipping them into the honey.
"Malluch is a laggard to-night," he said, showing where histhoughts were.
"Do you believe he will come?" Esther asked.
"Unless he has taken to the sea or the desert, and is yet followingon, he will come."
Simonides spoke with quiet confidence.
"He may write," she said.
"Not so, Esther. He would have despatched a letter when he foundhe could not return, and told me so; because I have not receivedsuch a letter, I know he can come, and will."
"I hope so," she said, very softly.
Something in the utterance attracted his attention; it might havebeen the tone, it might have been the wish. The smallest birdcannot light upon the greatest tree without sending a shock toits most distant fibre; every mind is at times no less sensitiveto the most trifling words.
"You wish him to come, Esther?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, lifting her eyes to his.
"Why? Can you tell me?" he persisted.
"Because"--she hesitated, then began again--"because the youngman is--" The stop was full.
"Our master. Is that the word?"
"Yes."
"And you still think I should not suffer him to go away withouttelling him to come, if he chooses, and take us--and all we have--all,Esther--the goods, the shekels, the ships, the slaves, andthe mighty credit, which is a mantle of cloth of gold and finestsilver spun for me by the greatest of the angels of men--Success."
She made no answer.
"Does that move you nothing? No?" he said, with the slightest taintof bitterness. "Well, well, I have found, Esther, the worst realityis never unendurable when it comes out from behind the clouds throughwhich we at first see it darkly--never--not even the rack. I supposeit will be so with death. And by that philosophy the slavery to whichwe are going must afterwhile become sweet. It pleases me even nowto think what a favored man our master is. The fortune cost himnothing--not an anxiety, not a drop of sweat, not so much as athought; it attaches to him undreamed of, and in his youth. And,Esther, let me waste a little vanity with the reflection; he getswhat he could not go into the market and buy with all the pelf ina sum--thee, my child, my darling; thou blossom from the tomb ofmy lost Rachel!"
He drew her to him, and kissed her twice--once for herself, once forher mother.
"Say not so,". she said, when his hand fell from her neck. "Let usthink better of him; he knows what sorrow is, and will set us free."
"Ah, thy instincts are fine, Esther; and thou knowest I lean uponthem in doubtful cases where good or bad is to be pronounced of aperson standing before thee as he stood this morning. But--but"--hisvoice rose and hardened--"these limbs upon which I cannot stand--thisbody drawn and beaten out of human shape--they are not all I bringhim of myself. Oh no, no! I bring him a soul which has triumphedover torture and Roman malice keener than any torture--I bringhim a mind which has eyes to see gold at a distance farther thanthe ships of Solomon sailed, and power to bring it to hand--ay,Esther, into my palm here for the fingers to grip and keep lestit take wings at some other's word--a mind skilled at scheming"--hestopped and laughed--"Why, Esther, before the new moon which in thecourts of the Temple on the Holy Hill they are this moment celebratingpasses into its next quartering I could ring the world so as to startleeven Caesar; for know you, child, I have that faculty which is betterthan any one sense, better than a perfect body, better than courageand will, better than experience, ordinarily the best product of thelongest lives--the faculty divinest of men, but which"--he stopped,and laughed again, not bitterly, but with real zest--"but whicheven the great do not sufficiently account, while with the herdit is a non-existent--the faculty of drawing men to my purpose andholding them faithfully to its achievement, by which, as againstthings to be done, I multiply myself into hundreds and thousands.So the captains of my ships plough the seas, and bring me honestreturns; so Malluch follows the youth, our master, and will"--justthen a footstep was heard upon the terrace--"Ha, Esther! saidI not so? He is here--and we will have tidings. For thy sake,sweet child--my lily just budded--I pray the Lord God, who hasnot forgotten his wandering sheep of Israel, that they be goodand comforting. Now we will know if he will let thee go with allthy beauty, and me with all my faculties."
Malluch came to the chair.
"Peace to you, good master," he said, with a low obeisance--"andto you, Esther, most excellent of daughters."
He stood before them deferentially, and the attitude and the addressleft it difficult to define his relation to them; the one was thatof a servant, the other indicated the familiar and friend. On theother side, Simonides, as was his habit in business, after answeringthe salutation went straight to the subject.
"What of the young man, Malluch?"
The events of the day were told quietly and in the simplest words,and until he was through there was no interruption; nor did thelistener in the chair so much as move a hand during the narration;but for his eyes, wide open and bright, and an occasional long-drawnbreath, he might have been accounted an effigy.
"Thank you, thank you, Malluch," he said, heartily, at the conclusion;"you have done well--no one could have done better. Now what say youof the young man's nationality?"
"He is an Israelite, good master, and of the tribe of Judah."
"You are positive?"
"Very positive."
"He appears to have told you but little of his life."
"He has somewhere learned to be prudent. I might call him distrustful.He baffled all my attempts upon his confidence until we started fromthe Castalian fount going to the village of Daphne."
"A place of abomination! Why went he there?"
"I would say from curiosity, the first motive of the many who go;but, very strangely, he took no interest in the things he saw.Of the Temple, he merely asked if it were Grecian. Good master,the young man has a trouble of mind from which he would hide,and he went to the Grove, I think, as we go to sepulchres withour dead--he went to bury it."
"That were well, if so," Simonides said, in a low voice; thenlouder, "Malluch, the curse of the time is prodigality. The poormake themselves poorer as apes of the rich, and the merely richcarry themselves like princes. Saw you signs of the weakness in theyouth? Did he display moneys--coin of Rome or Israel?"
"None, none, good master."
"Surely, Malluch, where there are so many inducements to folly--somuch, I mean, to eat and drink--surely he made you generous offerof some sort. His age, if nothing more, would warrant that much."
"He neither ate nor drank in my company."
"In what he said or did, Malluch, could you in anywise detect hismaster-idea? You know they peep through cracks close enough to stopthe wind."
"Give me to understand you," said Malluch, in doubt.
"Well, you know we nor speak nor act, much less decide gravequestions concerning ourselves, except as we be driven by amotive. In that respect, what made you of him?"
"As to that, Master Simonides, I can answer with much assurance.He is devoted to finding his mother and sister--that first. Then hehas a grievance against Rome; and as the Messala of whom I told youhad something to do with the wrong, the great present object is tohumiliate him. The meeting at the fountain furnished an opportunity,but it was put aside as not sufficiently public."
"The Messala is influent
ial," said Simonides, thoughtfully.
"Yes; but the next meeting will be in the Circus."
"Well--and then?"
"The son of Arrius will win."
"How know you?"
Malluch smiled.
"I am judging by what he says."
"Is that all?"
"No; there is a much better sign--his spirit."
"Ay; but, Malluch, his idea of vengeance--what is its scope? Doeshe limit it to the few who did him the wrong, or does he take inthe many? And more--is his feeling but the vagary of a sensitiveboy, or has it the seasoning of suffering manhood to give itendurance? You know, Malluch, the vengeful thought that has rootmerely in the mind is but a dream of idlest sort which one clearday will dissipate; while revenge the passion is a disease of theheart which climbs up, up to the brain, and feeds itself on bothalike."
In this question, Simonides for the first time showed signs offeeling; he spoke with rapid utterance, and with clenched handsand the eagerness of a man illustrating the disease he described.
"Good my master," Malluch replied, "one of my reasons for believingthe young man a Jew is the intensity of his hate. It was plain tome he had himself under watch, as was natural, seeing how longhe has lived in an atmosphere of Roman jealousy; yet I saw itblaze--once when he wanted to know Ilderim's feeling towards Rome,and again when I told him the story of the sheik and the wise man,and spoke of the question, 'Where is he that is born King of theJews?'"
Simonides leaned forward quickly.
"Ah, Malluch, his words--give me his words; let me judge theimpression the mystery made upon him."
"He wanted to know the exact words. Were they TO BE or BORN TO BE?It appeared he was struck by a seeming difference in the effect ofthe two phrases."
Simonides settled back into his pose of listening judge.
"Then," said Malluch, "I told him Ilderim's view of the mystery--thatthe king would come with the doom of Rome. The young man's blood roseover his cheeks and forehead, and he said earnestly, 'Who but a Herodcan be king while Rome endures?'"
"Meaning what?"
"That the empire must be destroyed before there could be anotherrule."
Simonides gazed for a time at the ships and their shadows slowlyswinging together in the river; when he looked up, it was to endthe interview.
"Enough, Malluch," he said. "Get you to eat, and make ready toreturn to the Orchard of Palms; you must help the young man inhis coming trial. Come to me in the morning. I will send a letterto Ilderim." Then in an undertone, as if to himself, he added,"I may attend the Circus myself."
When Malluch after the customary benediction given and receivedwas gone, Simonides took a deep draught of milk, and seemedrefreshed and easy of mind.
"Put the meal down, Esther," he said; "it is over."
She obeyed.
"Here now."
She resumed her place upon the arm of the chair close to him.
"God is good to me, very good," he said, fervently. "His habit isto move in mystery, yet sometimes he permits us to think we seeand understand him. I am old, dear, and must go; but now, in thiseleventh hour, when my hope was beginning to die, he sends me thisone with a promise, and I am lifted up. I see the way to a greatpart in a circumstance itself so great that it shall be as a newbirth to the whole world. And I see a reason for the gift of mygreat riches, and the end for which they were designed. Verily,my child, I take hold on life anew."
Esther nestled closer to him, as if to bring his thoughts fromtheir far-flying.
"The king has been born" he continued, imagining he was still speakingto her, "and he must be near the half of common life. Balthasar sayshe was a child on his mother's lap when he saw him, and gave himpresents and worship; and Ilderim holds it was twenty-seven yearsago last December when Balthasar and his companions came to histent asking a hiding-place from Herod. Wherefore the coming cannotnow be long delayed. To-night--to-morrow it may be. Holy fathers ofIsrael, what happiness in the thought! I seem to hear the crash ofthe falling of old walls and the clamor of a universal change--ay,and for the uttermost joy of men, the earth opens to take Rome in,and they look up and laugh and sing that she is not, while we are;"then he laughed at himself. "Why, Esther, heard you ever the like?Surely, I have on me the passion of a singer, the heat of bloodand the thrill of Miriam and David. In my thoughts, which should bethose of a plain worker in figures and facts, there is a confusionof cymbals clashing and harp-strings loud beaten, and the voicesof a multitude standing around a new-risen throne. I will put thethinking by for the present; only, dear, when the king comes hewill need money and men, for as he was a child born of woman hewill be but a man after all, bound to human ways as you and I are.And for the money he will have need of getters and keepers, andfor the men leaders. There, there! See you not a broad road formy walking, and the running of the youth our master?--and at theend of it glory and revenge for us both?--and--and"--he paused,struck with the selfishness of a scheme in which she had no partor good result; then added, kissing her, "And happiness for thymother's child."
She sat still, saying nothing. Then he remembered the differencein natures, and the law by which we are not permitted always totake delight in the same cause or be equally afraid of the samething. He remembered she was but a girl.
"Of what are you thinking, Esther?" he said, in his common home-likeway. "If the thought have the form of a wish, give it me, little one,while the power remains mine. For power, you know, is a fretful thing,and hath its wings always spread for flight."
She answered with a simplicity almost childish,
"Send for him, father. Send for him to-night, and do not let himgo into the Circus."
"Ah!" he said, prolonging the exclamation; and again his eyesfell upon the river, where the shadows were more shadowy than ever,since the moon had sunk far down behind Sulpius, leaving the city tothe ineffectual stars. Shall we say it, reader? He was touched bya twinge of jealousy. If she should really love the young master!Oh no! That could not be; she was too young. But the idea hadfast grip, and directly held him still and cold. She was sixteen.He knew it well. On the last natal day he had gone with her tothe shipyard where there was a launch, and the yellow flag whichthe galley bore to its bridal with the waves had on it "Esther;"so they celebrated the day together. Yet the fact struck him nowwith the force of a surprise. There are realizations which come tous all painfully; mostly, however, such as pertain to ourselves;that we are growing old, for instance; and, more terrible, that wemust die. Such a one crept into his heart, shadowy as the shadows,yet substantial enough to wring from him a sigh which was almosta groan. It was not sufficient that she should enter upon heryoung womanhood a servant, but she must carry to her master heraffections, the truth and tenderness and delicacy of which he thefather so well knew, because to this time they had all been hisown undividedly. The fiend whose task it is to torture us withfears and bitter thoughts seldom does his work by halves. In thepang of the moment, the brave old man lost sight of his new scheme,and of the miraculous king its subject. By a mighty effort, however,he controlled himself, and asked, calmly, "Not go into the Circus,Esther? Why, child?"
"It is not a place for a son of Israel, father."
"Rabbinical, rabbinical, Esther! Is that all?"
The tone of the inquiry was searching, and went to her heart,which began to beat loudly--so loudly she could not answer.A confusion new and strangely pleasant fell upon her.
"The young man is to have the fortune," he said, taking her hand,and speaking more tenderly; "he is to have the ships and theshekels--all, Esther, all. Yet I did not feel poor, for thouwert left me, and thy love so like the dead Rachel's. Tell me,is he to have that too?"
She bent over him, and laid her cheek against his head.
"Speak, Esther. I will be the stronger of the knowledge. In warningthere is strength."
She sat up then, and spoke as if she were Truth's holy self.
"Comfort thee, father. I will never leave thee; though he takemy love, I wi
ll be thy handmaid ever as now."
And, stooping, she kissed him.
"And more," she said, continuing: "he is comely in my sight,and the pleading of his voice drew me to him, and I shudder tothink of him in danger. Yes, father, I would be more than gladto see him again. Still, the love that is unrequited cannot beperfect love, wherefore I will wait a time, remembering I am thydaughter and my mother's."
"A very blessing of the Lord art thou, Esther! A blessing tokeep me rich, though all else be lost. And by his holy nameand everlasting life, I swear thou shalt not suffer."
At his request, a little later, the servant came and rolled thechair into the room, where he sat for a time thinking of the comingof the king, while she went off and slept the sleep of the innocent.