CHAPTER IV
During the third hour the road in front of the resting-place ofthe lepers became gradually more and more frequented by peoplegoing in the direction of Bethphage and Bethany; now, however,about the commencement of the fourth hour, a great crowd appearedover the crest of Olivet, and as it defiled down the road thousandsin number, the two watchers noticed with wonder that every onein it carried a palm-branch freshly cut. As they sat absorbedby the novelty, the noise of another multitude approaching fromthe east drew their eyes that way. Then the mother awoke Tirzah.
"What is the meaning of it all?" the latter asked.
"He is coming," answered the mother. "These we see are from thecity going to meet him; those we hear in the east are his friendsbearing him company; and it will not be strange if the processionsmeet here before us.
"I fear, if they do, we cannot be heard."
The same thought was in the elder's mind.
"Amrah," she asked, "when Judah spoke of the healing of the ten,in what words did he say they called to the Nazarene?"
"Either they said, 'Lord, have mercy upon us,' or 'Master,have mercy.'"
"Only that?"
"No more that I heard."
"Yet it was enough," the mother added, to herself.
"Yes," said Amrah, "Judah said he saw them go away well."
Meantime the people in the east came up slowly. When at length theforemost of them were in sight, the gaze of the lepers fixed upona man riding in the midst of what seemed a chosen company whichsang and danced about him in extravagance of joy. The rider wasbareheaded and clad all in white. When he was in distance to bemore clearly observed, these, looking anxiously, saw an olive-huedface shaded by long chestnut hair slightly sunburned and parted inthe middle. He looked neither to the right nor left. In the noisyabandon of his followers he appeared to have no part; nor did theirfavor disturb him in the least, or raise him out of the profoundmelancholy into which, as his countenance showed, he was plunged.The sun beat upon the back of his head, and lighting up the floatinghair gave it a delicate likeness to a golden nimbus. Behind him theirregular procession, pouring forward with continuous singing andshouting, extended out of view. There was no need of any one to tellthe lepers that this was he--the wonderful Nazarene!
"He is here, Tirzah," the mother said; "he is here. Come, my child."
As she spoke she glided in front of the white rock and fell uponher knees.
Directly the daughter and servant were by her side. Then at sightof the procession in the west, the thousands from the city halted,and began to wave their green branches, shouting, or rather chanting(for it was all in one voice),
"Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of theLord!"
And all the thousands who were of the rider's company, both thosenear and those afar, replied so the air shook with the sound, whichwas as a great wind threshing the side of the hill. Amidst the din,the cries of the poor lepers were not more than the twittering ofdazed sparrows.
The moment of the meeting of the hosts was come, and with it theopportunity the sufferers were seeking; if not taken, it would belost forever, and they would be lost as well.
"Nearer, my child--let us get nearer. He cannot hear us," said themother.
She arose, and staggered forward. Her ghastly hands were up, andshe screamed with horrible shrillness. The people saw her--saw herhideous face, and stopped awe-struck--an effect for which extremehuman misery, visible as in this instance, is as potent as majestyin purple and gold. Tirzah, behind her a little way, fell down toofaint and frightened to follow farther.
"The lepers! the lepers!"
"Stone them!"
"The accursed of God! Kill them!"
These, with other yells of like import, broke in upon the hosannasof the part of the multitude too far removed to see and understandthe cause of the interruption. Some there were, however, near byfamiliar with the nature of the man to whom the unfortunates wereappealing--some who, by long intercourse with him, had caughtsomewhat of his divine compassion: they gazed at him, and weresilent while, in fair view, he rode up and stopped in frontof the woman. She also beheld his face--calm, pitiful, and ofexceeding beauty, the large eyes tender with benignant purpose.
And this was the colloquy that ensued:
"O Master, Master! Thou seest our need; thou canst make us clean.Have mercy upon us--mercy!"
"Believest thou I am able to do this?" he asked.
"Thou art he of whom the prophets spake--thou art the Messiah!"she replied.
His eyes grew radiant, his manner confident.
"Woman," he said, "great is thy faith; be it unto thee even asthou wilt."
He lingered an instant after, apparently unconscious of the presenceof the throng--an instant--then he rode away.
To the heart divinely original, yet so human in all the betterelements of humanity, going with sure prevision to a death of allthe inventions of men the foulest and most cruel, breathing eventhen in the forecast shadow of the awful event, and still as hungryand thirsty for love and faith as in the beginning, how precious andineffably soothing the farewell exclamation of the grateful woman:
"To God in the highest, glory! Blessed, thrice blessed, the Sonwhom he hath given us!"
Immediately both the hosts, that from the city and that fromBethphage, closed around him with their joyous demonstrations,with hosannas and waving of palms, and so he passed from thelepers forever. Covering her head, the elder hastened to Tirzah,and folded her in her arms, crying, "Daughter, look up! I havehis promise; he is indeed the Messiah. We are saved--saved!" Andthe two remained kneeling while the procession, slowly going,disappeared over the mount. When the noise of its singing afarwas a sound scarcely heard the miracle began.
There was first in the hearts of the lepers a freshening of theblood; then it flowed faster and stronger, thrilling their wastedbodies with an infinitely sweet sense of painless healing. Eachfelt the scourge going from her; their strength revived; they werereturning to be themselves. Directly, as if to make the purificationcomplete, from body to spirit the quickening ran, exalting them toa very fervor of ecstasy. The power possessing them to this goodend was most nearly that of a draught of swift and happy effect;yet it was unlike and superior in that its healing and cleansingwere absolute, and not merely a delicious consciousness while inprogress, but the planting, growing, and maturing all at once of arecollection so singular and so holy that the simple thought of itshould be of itself ever after a formless yet perfect thanksgiving.
To this transformation--for such it may be called quite as properlyas a cure--there was a witness other than Amrah. The reader willremember the constancy with which Ben-Hur had followed the Nazarenethroughout his wanderings; and now, recalling the conversation ofthe night before, there will be little surprise at learning that theyoung Jew was present when the leprous woman appeared in the pathof the pilgrims. He heard her prayer, and saw her disfigured face;he heard the answer also, and was not so accustomed to incidentsof the kind, frequent as they had been, as to have lost interestin them. Had such thing been possible with him, still the bitterdisputation always excited by the simplest display of the Master'scurative gift would have sufficed to keep his curiosity alive.Besides that, if not above it as an incentive, his hope to satisfyhimself upon the vexed question of the mission of the mysteriousman was still upon him strong as in the beginning; we mightindeed say even stronger, because of a belief that now quickly,before the sun went down, the man himself would make all knownby public proclamation. At the close of the scene, consequently,Ben-Hur had withdrawn from the procession, and seated himself upona stone to wait its passage.
From his place he nodded recognition to many of the people--Galileansin his league, carrying short swords under their long abbas. After alittle a swarthy Arab came up leading two horses; at a sign fromBen-Hur he also drew out.
"Stay here," the young master said, when all were gone by, even thelaggards. "I wish to be at the city early, and Aldebaran must dome se
rvice."
He stroked the broad forehead of the horse, now in his prime ofstrength and beauty, then crossed the road towards the two women.
They were to him, it should be borne in mind, strangers in whom hefelt interest only as they were subjects of a superhuman experiment,the result of which might possibly help him to solution of themystery that had so long engaged him. As he proceeded, he glancedcasually at the figure of the little woman over by the white rock,standing there, her face hidden in her hands.
"As the Lord liveth, it is Amrah!" he said to himself.
He hurried on, and passing by the mother and daughter, still withoutrecognizing them, he stopped before the servant.
"Amrah," he said to her, "Amrah, what do you here?"
She rushed forward, and fell upon her knees before him, blinded by hertears, nigh speechless with contending joy and fear.
"O master, master! Thy God and mine, how good he is!"
The knowledge we gain from much sympathy with others passing throughtrials is but vaguely understood; strangely enough, it enables us,among other things, to merge our identity into theirs often socompletely that their sorrows and their delights become our own.So poor Amrah, aloof and hiding her face, knew the transformationthe lepers were undergoing without a word spoken to her--knewit, and shared all their feeling to the full. Her countenance,her words, her whole manner, betrayed her condition; and withswift presentiment he connected it with the women he had justpassed: he felt her presence there at that time was in some wayassociated with them, and turned hastily as they arose to theirfeet. His heart stood still, he became rooted in his tracks--dumbpast outcry--awe-struck.
The woman he had seen before the Nazarene was standing with herhands clasped and eyes streaming, looking towards heaven. The meretransformation would have been a sufficient surprise; but it was theleast of the causes of his emotion. Could he be mistaken? Never wasthere in life a stranger so like his mother; and like her as she wasthe day the Roman snatched her from him. There was but one differenceto mar the identity--the hair of this person was a little streakedwith gray; yet that was not impossible of reconcilement, since theintelligence which had directed the miracle might have taken intoconsideration the natural effects of the passage of years. And whowas it by her side, if not Tirzah?--fair, beautiful, perfect,more mature, but in all other respects exactly the same inappearance as when she looked with him over the parapet themorning of the accident to Gratus. He had given them over as dead,and time had accustomed him to the bereavement; he had not ceasedmourning for them, yet, as something distinguishable, they hadsimply dropped out of his plans and dreams. Scarcely believinghis senses, he laid his hand upon the servant's head, and asked,tremulously,
"Amrah, Amrah--my mother! Tirzah! tell me if I see aright."
"Speak to them, O master, speak to them!" she said.
He waited no longer, but ran, with outstretched arms, crying,"Mother! mother! Tirzah! Here I am!"
They heard his call, and with a cry as loving started to meet him.Suddenly the mother stopped, drew back, and uttered the old alarm,
"Stay, Judah, my son; come not nearer. Unclean, unclean!"
The utterance was not from habit, grown since the dread diseasestruck her, as much as fear; and the fear was but another formof the ever-thoughtful maternal love. Though they were healed inperson, the taint of the scourge might be in their garments readyfor communication. He had no such thought. They were before him;he had called them, they had answered. Who or what should keepthem from him now? Next moment the three, so long separated,were mingling their tears in each other's arms.
The first ecstasy over, the mother said, "In this happiness, O mychildren, let us not be ungrateful. Let us begin life anew byacknowledgment of him to whom we are all so indebted."
They fell upon their knees, Amrah with the rest; and the prayerof the elder outspoken was as a psalm.
Tirzah repeated it word for word; so did Ben-Hur, but not with thesame clear mind and questionless faith; for when they were risen,he asked,
"In Nazareth, where the man was born, mother, they call him theson of a carpenter. What is he?"
Her eyes rested upon him with all their old tenderness, and sheanswered as she had answered the Nazarene himself--
"He is the Messiah."
"And whence has he his power?"
"We may know by the use he makes of it. Can you tell me any illhe has done?"
"No."
"By that sign then I answer, He has his power from God."
It is not an easy thing to shake off in a moment the expectationsnurtured through years until they have become essentially a partof us; and though Ben-Hur asked himself what the vanities of theworld were to such a one, his ambition was obdurate and would notdown. He persisted as men do yet every day in measuring the Christby himself. How much better if we measured ourselves by the Christ!
Naturally, the mother was the first to think of the cares of life.
"What shall we do now, my son? Where shall we go?"
Then Ben-Hur, recalled to duty, observed how completely every traceof the scourge had disappeared from his restored people; that eachhad back her perfection of person; that, as with Naaman when hecame up out of the water, their flesh had come again like untothe flesh of a little child; and he took off his cloak, and threwit over Tirzah.
"Take it," he said, smiling; "the eye of the stranger would haveshunned you before, now it shall not offend you."
The act exposed a sword belted to his side.
"Is it a time of war?" asked the mother, anxiously.
"No."
"Why, then, are you armed?"
"It may be necessary to defend the Nazarene."
Thus Ben-Hur evaded the whole truth.
"Has he enemies? Who are they?"
"Alas, mother, they are not all Romans!"
"Is he not of Israel, and a man of peace?"
"There was never one more so; but in the opinion of the rabbisand teachers he is guilty of a great crime."
"What crime?"
"In his eyes the uncircumcised Gentile is as worthy favor as a Jew ofthe strictest habit. He preaches a new dispensation."
The mother was silent, and they moved to the shade of the tree bythe rock. Calming his impatience to have them home again and heartheir story, he showed them the necessity of obedience to the lawgoverning in cases like theirs, and in conclusion called the Arab,bidding him take the horses to the gate by Bethesda and await himthere; whereupon they set out by the way of the Mount of Offence.The return was very different from the coming; they walked rapidlyand with ease, and in good time reached a tomb newly made near thatof Absalom, overlooking the depths of Cedron. Finding it unoccupied,the women took possession, while he went on hastily to make thepreparations required for their new condition.