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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, 11 est fiimd 6 partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche 6 droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mithode. errata J to s pelure, ion 6 n 32X ; i 2 3 f . 1 a 3 i 1 -f/^ : i: 6 ' i 1 MONTI The Cross Triumphant BY FLORENCE MORSE KINGSLEY Author of *' Titus,'' ''Stephen'' and ''Paul," TORONTO: WILLIAM BRIGOS, WESLEY BUILDINGS. MONTREAL: C. W. COAXES. HALIFAX: S. F. HUESTIS. m 'i.H m PZ. 3 A i'ML C 2043 Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thoiisand eight hundred and ninety-nine, by William Biiioay, at the Department of Agriculture. **For ifthw do these things in a green tree^ what shall be done in the dry /* " Luke xxiii, 31. ;■:! .■S1I It 1 i 1 1 . ( ! CI CONTENTS. i CHAPTER 1. "The Only Son ok His Mothkk,' II. Thic Making ok a Rahiii, . III. Tiiii SiiEi'HiiRu's Story, . IV. Thk Child and the Law, . V. At the Fountain, VI. Expiation, .... VII. In the Temple, . VIII. Concerning the Prince, . IX. A Question and an Answer, X. Jesus IV., .... XI. The Rejected, . XII. Out of the Depths, . XIII. In the New of the Moon, . XIV. A Singer of Hymns, . XV. A Simple Creed, XVI. With the Chiefs of the Nation, XVII. Merodah, .... XVIII. A Ruler of Jerusalem, XIX. A Daughter of the Herods, XX. " As Birds Flying," . rAUB 9 «5 30 39 49 62 68 78 87 94 100 109 119 130 140 148 156 170 182 195 li (vii) m ,-.4 . 'k, 'iis II ' I VIII COSTESTS. CHAfTKH XXI. Thk I.AST VrCTORY, . XXII, In Aphtha, XXIII. Thk House Desolatk, XXIV. The Last High Priest, . XXV. The Shopkeeper of the Agra XXVI. Out of the North, XXVII. A Hired Servant, . XXVIII. The Coming Storm, XXIX. Bar-Gioras, XXX. •• Lo, I Am With You Alway XXXI. An Open Gate, XXXII. The Wisdom of Fools, . XXXIII. A Meeting of the Sanhedrim XXXIV. The Black Fast, XXXV. A More Excellent Way, XXXVI. Victory PAOR 211 241 252 262 273 285 294 299 311 322 32S 342 348 I I J PACiR 199 311 223 241 252 262 285 294 299 3'i 322 32S 342 348 CHAPTER I. "THE ONLY SON OF HIS MOTHER. it JESUS, a carpenter of Galilee, who also was called the Christ by certain Jews who fol- lowed him, had been dead full seventeen years — dead, and already put out of mind and forgotten by many who had both seen him and heard him speak, when a man-child was born in the little mountain village of Aphtha. Many months before the child opened his eyes in the cold gray of a winter dawn his father had closed his forever. They laid him, swathed hand and foot in spiced linen, in a narrow niche cut deep in the rocky hillside. His young widow lived on alone in a tiny cottage on the opposite side of the valley. From her door- way she could see the great stone which lay across the narrower doorway. She thought in those days that if she also might dwell in that other house — from whose doorway one never passed out — she would be content, quite still and content. Later she remembered the child. When she looked upon the fatherless one she said, " He shall be called Phannias." (9) I i i lO THE CliOSS TRIUMPHANT. The child's first conscious memory was that of the face of his mother, dark with passionate sor- row, shining with love, solemnly beautiful as a storm-cloud rent with lightning yet touched with the clear light of the sun. As he gazed into this face, whereon love and sorrow were so wondrously blended, thoughts began to grow within him. His eyes answered her eyes. After a time he came to understand the words which fell from her lips ; but he made no haste to use his own tongue. Long after the little head, running over with curls of mid- night blackness, came to be seen here and there about the house and garden, he was still silent. The neighbors were not slow to observe this. " The child hath a dumb devil," they whispered among themselves, and made ostentatious room for the widow when she came to the fountain, the child perched upon her shoulder, or later, clinging shyly to the folds of her robe. Rachel, wrapped in the impervious garment of her sorrow, paid no heed to either looks or whis- pers, returning the reluctant salutations that greeted her appearance with dropped lids and the formal " Peace be with thee." She had come to Aphtha a bride and a stranger ; widowed within the month of her arrival, she was a stranger still. Her na- ture, rich, generous, abundant, a bright river of gladness, had on a sudden plunged into black silent depths, to emerge no more save in one sparkling fountain. Henceforth she lived for her child alone. " THE ONLY SON OF HIS MOTHER." II 'as that of ionate sor- jtiful as a iched with d into this vondrously him. His le came to T hps ; but ue. Long iris of mid- and there I silent. )serve this. whispered IS room for 1, the child ging shyly arment of or whis- lat greeted he formal o Aphtha he month Her na- river of ack silent sparkling lild alone. Phannias dimly comprehended this before he spoke. He also understood that he himself was not like the other children, who noisily laughed and cried, played and quarreled about the village streets. For himself he seldom either smiled or wept, never- theless he was happy as an angel. The garden, with its terraced steeps, whereon the vine was wed- ded to the olive with eastern thrift and beauty ; the luxuriant tangle of almond and oleander, whose blossoming branches wrapped the low-walled cot- tage in a bower of fragrant silence ; the stream twinkling pleasantly over its smooth round peb- bles ; tall lilies, pouring forth odorous secrets at dawn and at twilight ; pigeons circling in blue air like nearer clouds ; bird voices loud and jubilant with the new day, or drowsily sweet and tender in the purple evenings — all these and others innumer- able, changinfy from wonder to wonder with the changing seasons, made of the child's narrow world no less than heaven. In this heaven his mother reigned supreme ; of all things beautiful, lovely and adorable, she was to the child the most beautiful, the most lovely, the most to be adored. When Phannias was three years old his mother told him of God. He had already learned to pray, as the bird learns to sing. The nestling listens to the song of its mother and twitters its joy aloud ; so Phannias babbled sweetly to his mother's eyes words which she taught him evening by evening. But one day a new thought came to him, and with ij iM' ■i H %L il !■ : ! I ! ! i ^i 13 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. the thought a question. ** Who is God, my mother?" Rachel trembled — angels also tremble when they teach a white soul of God. " God is the holy, in- visible One who made the whole earth," she said slowly. " He made all things that thou dost see, child, — ^thyself also. Thou must love — adore him." "Did he make thee?" ** Yes, truly, he made me." "Then I will love him, for I love thee." To love the maker of his mother, of the stars and the lilies, was not difficult ; it was indeed quite as easy and inevitable as breathing. The child breathed and loved, and was happy for a whole year ; then his mother told him of The Law. He quickly learned that The Law was far more difficult to understand than God. The Law had made nothing pleasant or beautiful. The Law did not love him, yet it required of him many things, some of them strange and hard to understand. In the joyous days of the grape harvest, when all the other children of the village frolicked in the vineyards from dawn until evening, their hands and faces stained purple with the luscious juices of the fruit, Phannias stood sad and silent beside the door of his mother's cottage. The Law forbade him to touch, much less taste, a single berry of all the tempting clusters ripening fragrantly in the warm shadows of the vines. " Did The Law make the vines, my mother?" he " THE ONLY HON OF HIS MOTHER:' 13 J warm asked, leaning his round cheeks in his palms, and staring wistfully at the heapcd-up clusters of red, purple and white which the young men and .aaidens were carrying with shouts of happy laughter to the vintage. " No, my son," answered Rachel, smiling into the questioning dark eyes upturned to hers. " God made the vines ; the fruit also is good and pleasant. But thou art vowed unto God a holy Nazarite, as I have already told thee many times. Thou wilt be beloved of God, as was Samuel, the prophet ; the angels also will love thee." Phannias had learned from his mother's Hps m?ny wonderful stories concerning the unseen God, and his dealings with men and women long since van- ished from off the earth. She was accustomed to read these tales from a scroll, which was kept be- tween whiles in a box of fragrant wood. This scroll had once belonged to his father, she told him ; it would one day be his. The child regarded it with awe, the spicy odor of the parchment unfolding strange meanings beyond the tales of love and hate, obedience and rebellion, mercy and terrible retribu- tion, which his mother recited in her low, passionate voice. As for the story of Samuel, the prophet, he knew it by heart ; nor was he ignorant of the vow which bound him. The Nazarite must abstain from three things : the fruit of the vine, either fresh or dried, in old wine and new ; vinegar also, and the I *■' \\ t' ■ :■ n 1 i ' h ! I ;i I ' 1 1 14 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. pleasant molasses made of grapes which the chil- dren ate upon their bread in the cold days of winter. He must refrain from cutting the hair of his head. He must avoid contact with things dead. Grapes were undoubtedly beautiful to look upon, and the fragrance of the new wine was sweet as it was borne past on the slow, creaking ox-carts ; but there were also compensations. " Shall I live in the temple, as did Samuel ?** he asked, after a short period of reflection ; ** and will God speak to me in the night-time ?" ; Rachel regarded her child in silence. No angel \ could be more pure and beautiful, she thought, with an exultant swelling at heart. She remem- '. bered her vow, the vow of Hannah, the mother of Samuel, a vow made in bitterness of soul and with strong crying in the first days of her desolation ; " If thou wilt look upon the affliction of thine hand- maid, O Lord of Hosts, and wilt give unto thine handmaid a man-child, then will I give him unto the Lord all the days of his life, and there shall no razor come upon his head." " My Phannias," she said slowly, " thou shalt in- deed dwell in the temple ; and — God will speak to thee." (;■" THE MAKING OF A HABBL IS CHAPTER II. THE MAKING OF A RABBI. : ifc-,: As Phannias grew older the thing called The Law waxed increasingly insistent ; it entered into every moment of his waking life, filling his ears with a never-ending clamor of "thou shalts" and "thou shalt nots." Thus and so must he wash, eat, drink, stand, sit and walk ; thus and so must he pray, think, love and hate. The list of forbidden things and of things unlawful and unholy grew and length- ened day by day till it seemed to the bewildered child that the lawful, the holy, the permitted were quite lost sight of and forgotten. His mother had long ceased to be his only teacher ; the ruler of the synagogue and the ten Batlanin, — or men of leisure who constituted the legal congregation, — beholding a Nazarite for life growing up in their midst fatherless, had early con- stituted themselves fathers in Israel to guide his young steps in the slow and difficult path of cere- monial holiness. Day by day these zealous teach- ers riveted to the child's tender soul heavier and yet heavier lengths of that galling chain of rabbinical laws and precepts which the blind centuries had welded to the ten strong links forged on Sinai. 1 f * ' i6 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. il li The child dragged his chain patiently. To be holy, to be beloved of God, appeared to him ever more and more desirable, but alas, ever more diffi- cult and remote. He longed for the time when he should go up to the temple in Jerusalem. Once there, he thought, surrounded by all the beauty and the glory of the house of Jehovah, breathing as it were the very air of heaven, it would be both easy and delightful to please God. In the satisfied eyes of his mother he grew in grace even as he grew in stature. She was both glad and afraid when Ben Huna, the excellent rabbi who taught the village school, told her that her son possessed a brilliant mind and would one day be a great scholar. To be a scholar meant chiefly to know the law as it was laid down in the Bible and in the holy books of the learned, the Talmud and the Mishna. Already the lad had been taught to thank God that he had not been made a woman. He must also learn that " the mind of woman is weak;" that "blessed is he whose child •'^n are sons, but woe to him whose children are daugh- ters;" that "as children and slaves so also is woman, devoid of understanding and wisdom." Therefore while Rachel looked forward with joy to the day when her child should sit among the great rabbins at Jerusalem, she knew right well that the first stones were being laid in an impassable wall which should divide them forever. In secret Phannias hated both the Talmud and THE MAKING OF A RABBI, 17 'h4 the Mishna, with their endless obscurities, ambigui- ties, expositions, arguments and illustrations ; the distracting babel, as it were, of the myriad voices of half a thousand years. But he found in the Bible a spring of living water, fresh and delightful, which comforted him in the arid desert of man- made wisdom. Also, and chiefly, because the lad loved his master, he remained human and sane during this period of his life. The Rabbi Ben Huna was truly a wise man. Not only was he possessed of great learning — a good thing in itself, but of small mo- ment in a world wherein there are only degrees of ignorance — but beyond and above his knowledge of the Bible, the Mishna and the Talmud, he was possessed of a soul of rare gentleness. To Ben Huna a spirit created of God was the most wonder- ful thing in all the universe. He bowed himself before the meanest pupil who sat in his presence, believing that through each pair of childish eyes looked forth a sacred intelligence, each differing from every other with all the infinite variety of omni- potence. He was therefore never angry or impatient because of apparent dullness or lack of understand- ing. Nor did he at any time make use of the rod, or even of the leathern strap, for chastisement; wherein he differed from the custom laid down by Solomon and practiced by most instructors of youth. "God created man in his own image," he was wont to say ; *' moreover, he breathed into the 2 \\\ f;'*l m iff ji| 1^1* .>^ less than their elders they thought and talked and dreamed of the wonderful holy prince, whose coming heralded all imaginable delights. Phannias was silent, but his dark eyes, fixed full upon his master's face, were both eager and (jues- tioning. Ben Huna observed this. " Hast thou also another question, my son ?" he asked, with a benignant smile. •' I would tell thee one thing," said the boy mod- estly, "that befell me yesterday." "Say on, my son." "At the sixth hour," continued the lad, " it hap- pened that my mother sent me to Jabez, the inn- keeper in Bethlehem, to fetch oil which she had bought for our lamps. Jabez bade me rest in the shadow of the khan, and also fetched out to me cakes of fine meal and goat's milk in a wooden bowl." Ben Huna nodded his head approvingly. He was well pleased at the token of respect shown his favorite pupil, — for whom, in his heart of hearts, he already hoped great things. " The innkeeper is a man of wisdom and discernment," he said, "in that he showeth honor to whom honor will one day be due." Phannias' dark sensitive face flushed. " He told me a strange story," he said, looking down upon the ground with a troubled air. The rabbi frowned. " What did he tell thee, m M ^ «'4i 1 ivi H THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT, 'I' ;i; l-l ii::!. ii.n! child ?" he said quickly, a note of anxiety in his gentle tones. " Jabez is an old man," said Phannias, thought- fully ; *' perchance the mists of age have clouded his understanding. This is the story that he told me. Threescore years ago, when all the world was taxed according to the decree of Caesar, every man went up to his own city that he might pay his tribute. To the city of Bethlehem also came a multitude of them that were of the house and Hn- eage of David. * The inn was full,' quoth Jabez ; * and my pouch was swollen with coin. It was a good time and a profitable ; indeed, for my part I could not regret the taxing, though not a few of the tribute -payers cried out that it was woe and in- iquity ; also they cursed the Gentile, Tiberias, and his brood of evil-doers, both loud and deep. "'Towards evening, whf^n, as I have said, the inn was already filled to overflowing, there came a man from Galilee and besought of me a place to eat and sleep. Thou art welcome, even as my earli- est guest, I told him ; but what then shall I do ? Every stall hath already its beast of burden, and as for the sleeping-places, thou mayest look for thy- self and see that there is no room for so much as the sole of a man's foot. At this the stranger was greatly troubled, and said that while for himself he could make shift with his woolen cloak and a pil- low of earth, his young wife was ill and must tarry no longer in the chill of the winter night. hllii THE MAKI2fO OF A HABBL 25 " • Come thou in, I cried, and rest, if thou wilt, in the cave yonder where my oxen are feeding; there will be a roof at least betwixt thee and the naked heavens ; I will fetch a bundle of straw for the woman. It was a poor place enough, but the man seemed grateful for it. He brought in the woman, a blue-eyed slip of a thing, tottering for very weari- ness as her husband lifted her across the threshold.' •* Jabez showed me the place" — and Phannias dropped his voice almost to a whisper — " a stall hollowed out in the hillside !" "Go on with thy tale," said Ben Huna, sternly; *' I will hear it as he told thee." Phannias fixed his great black eyes on his master's face with manifest amazement. •' I have told thee the tale even as he told me, my master," he said. Then he went on slowly, as if careful to remember every smallest word. '* The innkeeper tarried before the gate that he might guard those within, but about the fifth hour of the night he laid himself down upon a truss of straw and, being very weary, soon fell sound asleep. How long he slept he knew not, but he was suddenly awakened by a sound of loud knocking at the door, and voices calling to him to open. "At first he would not, saying that the inn was full and the door fast, according to the law. But looking out from the postern and seeing, among them that tarried before the gate, certain honest shepherds of his acquaintance, he opened. i H» ii m I '1^1 ,51 1 r ill m 26 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. 1':! 11 , , HI II " * Peace be \ nto thee, thou son of Abraham, and peace be to this house !' cried the chief s. ep- herd ; and by the light of the torch which he car- ried the innkeeper saw that the man trembled like one who was afraid, yet his face shone with a strange joy. * Show us the holy babe, I beseech thee, that we may worship him ; for verily He is come that was promised !* " Whereat the innkeeper was astonished. * There is no babe,' he said ; * Jehovah help thee, man, thou art distracted with wine !' " But they insisted, saying that as they watched their flocks on the hillside, a great light shone about them, and in the midst of the light appeared a mighty angel, who declared to them that the Christ was born.'* Ben Huna laid an authoritative hand on the child's shoulder. He perceived that the youthful Nazarite was trembling with excitement. " I will finish the tale, my son," he said gravely. ** The *5on of Eliphaz hath strangely forgotten the wisdom which his years should have taught him, else he would not have told thee this thing. The time is not yet for teaching thee the false, the evil, the ac- cursed. Woe is me, that one so guiltless must needs learn aught of the guilty ! But know this much, that while Israel hath waited patiently for her Deliverer through the slow ages, many false prophets have appeared — yea, and shall appear till the prom- ised day of blessing. ^lii- \ ^: THE MAKING OF A RABBI, a; " The babe which was born in the khan yonder grew to be a man, dwelling quietly enough in the Galilean village of Nazareth, where both he and his father followed the honest trade of carpenter. During these years it is said of him that he observed the law and dwelt blameless among his fellows. Then on a sudden a mad hermit arose out of the desert, one John, called also of the people the Baptist, because he would have no other followers save those who consented to be plunged by him into some stream or river — a thing not enjoined by the law of Moses. This man proclaimed himself the prophet of the Messiah ; much people followed him, and there was a great stir of the excitable rabble through all the land. In the midst of the tumult the carpenter, Jesus Ben Joseph — who also was of near kin to the Baptist — laid down his tools, and, taking to himself certain ignorant and un- learned fishermen of Galilee, began to go about the provinces, haranguing the people and cunningly working pretended marvels among the superstitious folk of the country-side. ** At the first the learned paid little heed to either the sayings or doings of the Galilean, but when it came to the ears of the council at Jerusalem that he taught the people to despise the customs, declar- ing that he had come to fulfill the law and the prophets, it seemed wise to look to the matter. I was a young man in those days and tarried in the schools of the rabbis at Jerusalem." Ben Huna "i3 ,.F 'I •t ^^ ^ THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. !■'; il! paused abruptly and arose to his feet. " The hour grows late," he said. " Go your ways, my lambs, lest your parents chide me for a careless shepherd." In truth, the good rabbi was not minded to re- late the undeniably strange facts in this history of the man of Galilee to these wide-eyed listeners of his, without time for due thought and reflec- tion. He knew also that there would be questions to answer. " The words of a teacher," he said within himself, " are like the seed which a man casts into his field ; they must be sifted with jealous care lest a hidden germ of evil be mingled therewith to bear fruit unto destruction. To-morrow I will tell them what befell the carpenter who called himself the Son of Jehovah." The children, many of whom had already heard the story, ran joyfully away to their play. But Phannias, walking slowly homeward, thought of the dark manger which he had seen in the ancient khan, and of how the gloomy place shone with unearthly brightness in that black midnight sixty years ago. He wandered dreamily to the verge of the hill on which the village stood and looked down into the storied valley beneath. There were shepherds yonder, watching the flocks which wan- dered on the hither side of the stream. Beyond the smooth green slopes stood the hoary pile of the Migdol Eder, the watch-tower, all unchanged since the mysterious night when angels burst the ■'!'■! THE MAKING OF A RABBI. 99 starry walls of heaven to herald the coming of the babe of Bethlehem. As he gazed, Phannias was seized with a strong desire to learn more of the strange story. Why might he not find the very shepherds who had seen the vision ! Without stopping to consider that the sun was already dropping behind the western horizon, the child ran swiftly down the rugged path which led to the valley. ill! HI III I 30 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT, \v CHAPTER III. THE SHEPHERD S STORY. Ill, ' ! lijtil THE shepherds lay wrapped in their warm abbas watching the flocks as they cropped the green pastures beneath the shelter of the hill. It was the time of year when the sheep were suf- fered to feed by night as well as by day, that they might be sleek and well-nourished by Passover time. For these flocks of Bethlehem were sacred to the service of the great temple at Jerusalem, and every spotless lamb which frolicked joyously at its mother's side in the soft spring grass was destined to pour out its innocent Hfe into the golden bowl of sacrifice. The men had eaten their frugal supper of bread and olives, and had cast lots fjr the night- watches, a duty which in these troublous times was not without its positive perils to shepherds as well as to flocks. The chief shepherd, one Enoch, a stout, middle-aged man, was speaking; he had a long tale to tell of the day's doings in Jeru- salem. "The High Priest, Ananus," this worthy was saying, with an air of relish, " hath burned his holy fingers in the Roman torch. Nothing pleases the THE SHEPHERDS STORY. 3« multitude better than blood, as his sacred highness knows right well, and the multitude was clamorous and must needs be appeased. There being no procurator in Jerusalem since the death of our ex- cellent Festus, there was no one to say him nay when he laid hold on three of the chief men of the Nazarenes. Look you," he continued, frowning and raising his voice excitedly, as he perceived sig- nificant glances pass betwixt the men. " I am no believer in the false Messiah, as ye well know, but one of them, the man James, called also the Just, is not unknown to me, and I say that the condem- nation was unlawful. He is a Nazarite — for more than fifty years, and a righteous, law-abiding man, save for his one folly in confessing the crucified carpenter. He was condemned to be stoned be- cause, forsooth, he perverted the multitude ; am I not of the multitude, and did he pervert me ?" One of the under-shepherds whispf:red something to his neighbor with a sly chuckle, whereat Enoch pounded irritably upon the ground with his staff. " Hold thy peace, fellow, till I have had my say. The Nazarenes were condemned, and the temple guard dragged them off to the place of death. I myself saw them as they were haled through the streets after their sentence, a great multitude fol- lowing, some wailing and beating upon their breasts, others ciying out curses upon the crucified Galilean and his followers. Into the midst of the tumult rode a detachment of the Roman guard bearing a Ills m ■"'' V, ' -m K^-Jl :^t^ 32 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. command from the newly-appointed procurator, Albinus, to release the prisoners at once. The cun- ning Nazarenes had sent a fleet messenger to meet the Roman as he journeyed toward Jerusalem." ** Holy fire ! so the rascals escaped after all !" cried out one of the listening shepherds. "They were loosed from their bonds," said his chief grimly ; " what befell them afterward at the hands of the multitude I know not. It was said that Ananus would be at once degraded from his office as a punishment for his part in the infringe- ment of Roman law." "That were small wonder," commented one of the group, shrugging his shoulders, " and welcome news to our worshipful Agrippa, who makes high priests that he may also have the pleasure of un- making them." "Sedition! Sedition!" shouted another, beat- ing his horny palms together. " The air is full of it ; the very sheep yonder will shortly refuse their fodder and cry out for the fruit of the vine !" " Ay, comrade, it is well spoken," said an aged man who had been listening quietly, shaking his head from time to time with the grave and sorrow- ful air of a man who listens to a tale of long-ex- pected disaster. " Ay, the times are ripe for mar- vels ; and who should know it better than I, wiio have already seen prodigies past the telling ? Strange things have come to pass in yonder guilty city — strange things and terrible ; and stranger things THE SHEPHERD'S STORY. 33 and things yet more terrible are to come. Ye shall see them, but perchance I shall be spared, for the tale of my days is nearly told. Hear ye, one and all, the man of Nazareth was of the house and lin- eage of David ! He was born in the khan yonder, beneath a star — a blazing star ! / saw it ! / — in the flesh, I saw it!" The trembling tones of the old man's voice rose to a shrill cry. He flung his arms high above his head with a gesture of unutterable longing. The shepherds looked at one another with meaning smiles. *' The dotard will rave of the star, the babe and the angels till dawn," muttered one of the younger men, sneering openly. " I, for one, will not hear it." With that he arose, and flinging his abba across his shoulders strode away toward the watch- tower. One by one the other shepherds followed his ex- ample till the old man was left alone with his mem- ories beside the dying fire. He did not seem to notice that his comrades had left him, but sat mo- tionless, staring into the luminous dusk of the early twilight. Suddenly his dim eyes brightened ; he rose trembling to his feet and stood with bowed head, awaiting the approach of a figure, clad all in white, which came swiftly toward him down the steep hillside. To the worn vision of the aged shepherd the beautiful child-figure, with its light fluttering garments, seemed no other than an angel, 3 ■■m ■ 'M ' m h i ■■ .. •.*iT.!| • t km mi 34 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT, 1 1':: !l! 1 1 floating adovvn the steeps of heaven to console him in his grief and loneliness. As for Phannias — for it was Phannias who ran lightly down the rugged path — no sooner did his eyes light on the bowed figure of the shepherd than he knew with a child's beautiful prescience that he had found what he sought. "Wilt thou tell me, good sir," he cried in his clear sweet voice, " of the visit of the angels, and of the child — the little child — ^Jesus, in the manger of the khan?" " Blessed be Jehovah ! Praised be his holy name !" murmured the shepherd, folding his with- ered hands. " Men will neither heed nor believe me ; but, lo ! thou hast sent an angel to hear my witness before I go hence !" Phannias regarded the old man with awe, his large serious eyes shining with eager joy. He but half comprehended his words. " Didst thou indeed see him?" he asked wistfully, "and wilt thou tell me how it all befell ? I have already seen the dark manger ; the keeper of the inn told me that the light from the star above streamed through the earthen roof." *• It did ! — it did !" cried the shepherd, tears of pure joy coursing down his withered cheeks. " The star and the light from the wings of unseen angels filled the place with the radiance and warmth of heaven. Ah, the glory of it all ! What joy be- yond the telling for mortal eyes and ears and Jill' .!'. THE SHEPHERD'S STORY, 95 tongues, and what blackness of despair and grief in the sad years to come. I will not tell thee of that, but only the beautiful beginning of it all. " Look you, child of the Highest, we guarded the flocks in this very place threescore years ago, a goodly company, devout and prayerful, looking for the fulfillment of the promise. I was but a lad — no higher than my staff here. As we kept the midnight watch, making mention of the Lord's anointed, as was our wont, on a sudden there was a light, — a great light, and in the midst of it there appeared the figure of a man, clad in shining rai- ment. And when we were all fallen on our faces to the earth, — being sore afraid because of the vision, the angel spake graciously to us. " * Fear not !' he said, ' for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Chrijit the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you : ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger.* "When the angel had said this there was a sound, sweet and awful, as of mighty silver trump- ets, and with the trumpets the voices of a great multitude of them that sang gloriously. Yet was the multitude as one voice crying, " ' Glory to God in the highest ! On earth peace, — good-will to men !' " I heard it ! /—in the flesh—/ heard it ! Also ■4! m % ,.,CJi1 \h^ ii-ii H- 36 TIIK CROSS TRIUMPHANT. m ,li M I beheld with these mortal eyes the host of the blessed — rank upon rank of shining ones ; some floating just above the ground, their dazzling gar- ments shedding a silver light over all^the valley and the stream and the flocks, so that one could sec the tiniest lamb nestling by its mother's side ; while beyond and above the earth, shining rank upon shining rank, wing folded to wing, the sing- ing angels filled the heavens, a cloud o^ glory ! / saw it ! I — in the flesh ! And I live to beai wit- ness that it is true !" The shepherd turned his face toward the stars, stretching out his arms with a long, quivering sigh. Phannias regarded him with a pure delight not unmixed with fear. After a time he ventured to lay his hand on the old man's sleeve. ** And after- ward, good shepherd," he urged timidly — "what happened afterward?" The shepherd dropped his arms and fixed his dim eyes upon the child. ** Who and what art thou ?" he said faintly. " Ar ^ ne of them — or do I but dream of the angels ? For the shining ones went away again into heaven, one and all, — ay, they went away. And though I have longed and prayed during all these weary years for but a whisper of the celestial voices the door is fast shut. And the babe ? Ah, dear God, it was peace, good- will that he brought to men, but men would none of it ; and few believed our witness of the things which had come to pass. * There was no angel,' Tm: SllEPlIEltD'S STOHY. 37 thry said, and laughed us to scorn. * As for tlie babe, he is but the son of a carpenter.* " Alas, alas, for babe and mother ! Alas, for the tree of blood — the accursed tree ! But hark you, child, and remember what I shall say to thee is God's own truth. The babe of Bethlehem was the Messiah of Israel, the Anointed of Jehovah ; and of yonder guiltv city, Jerusalem, will God require nis oiuuu 1 iV>, th a , t^uj^ing sword of Jehovah of Hosts hangs above it like a devouring flame! I saw the Prince of Heaven wrapped in swaddling- clothes and lying in the manger, even as the angel declared unto us. / — I in the flesh ! And I bear witness that it is true — true — all true !" "What, raving yet, dotard?" cried a harsh voice. " Come, have done with thy senile madness and drive up the flock from beyond the stream. Sacred fire ! but thou hast frightened the ewes from their pasture ! Who is this ?'* And the owner of the voice, a big burly shepherd, turned suddenly upon Phannias. " I pray thee to leave the little one in peace," besought the old shepherd earnestly, laying a pro- tecting hand on the child's head. " Jehovah hath sent him that he might hear my true witness of the things that have happened in this place. He will also witness to the truth, as I have told it to him, when I shall go hence." "Jehovah smite me," roared the other, "but I hope that will be soon ! Get thee about thy busi- wm !ii .,1 (' itiii 38 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT, h l^iiSi ness, dotard !" With that he raised his thick oaken stafif and shook it threateningly in the old man's face. The aged shepherd staggered back as though he had received a mortal wound, and with a low gasping cry fell to the ground. " I did not strike him — I swear I did not strike him !" cried the other, aghast at the effect of his brutal words. " Thou knowest, boy, that I did but remind the laggard of his duty !" But Phannias neither heard nor heeded. He was bending over the fallen shepherd. " Water — quick !" he cried in an agony, for even to his childish eyes the look on the gray, worn face was not to be mistaken. The old man's eyes opened ; they were full and bright, like the eyes of youth. " The angels !" he cried once in a loud, exultant voice — and was silent. An hour later Rachel and Ben Huna found the child ; he was sitting flat upon the ground, holding the shepherd's head upon his knees, his face not less white than the peaceful face of the dead. He looked up at them with a radiant smile. " He saw the angels," he whispered. '* It is true — ^true — all true !" 1 1 '" I v~' h < r' THE CHILD AND THE LAW. 39 I ' i i i i ';• r!'i'ii^ ■m CHAPTER IV. THE CHILD AND THE LAW. PHANNIAS Opened his eyes the next morning with the earhest twitter of half-awakened birds, to find the dawn flooding the whHe walls of his chamber with rosy light, while the blossoming boughs of the great almond tree just outside his window stirred fragrantly in the fresh breeze. The child had slept dreamlessly, and his soul unfolded like a flower to greet the rising sun. Springing from his bed he lifted his face to the glowing heav- ens, repeating softly the beautiful prayer to the Creator of light with which every devout Israelite was wont to greet the new day : " Blessed art thou, O Lord, our God, King of the universe ! Who Greatest light and formest darkness ! In mercy thou causest the light to shine upon the earth and the inhabitants thereof. And in goodness renewest every day the work of creation ! Blessed art thou. Creator of light !" The world was so beautiful, thought the child, in a rapture of gratitude. He remembered, with a sudden bounding of the heart, the strange story of the shepherd. " It is true !" he said joyfully " He saw the : ,1 ih^ m Ik "I * :f ; ■m it- n ' f-i m 40 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. angels ; and last night they took him, because he was poor and old and lonely." Full of these thoughts and eager to know more of the wonderful babe, angel-heralded, yet so meanly cradled in the ruinous old inn, the child flew to the door of his chamber. He was met at the threshold by his mother, pallid, sad, her eyes swollen as if from sleeplessness and prolonged weeping. "Mother!" he cried aghast, "mother!" and would have thrown his arms about her neck, but she repulsed him gently. "Thou must remain within thy chamber, my son," she said gravely, " till the hour is come for thy departure for Jerusalem." "But why " " I cannot talk with thee ; it is forbidden. Thou hast touched the unholy dead, and art thyself un- holy and polluted. Alas, thou hast broken thy vow ! Abase thyself before an angry Jehovah, for thou hast grievously trespassed against his holy law." An hour later, lying prone upon the earthen floor of his chamber, crushed beneath a load of misery, immense, heart-breaking, intolerable, Phan- nias became dimly aware of a clamor of voices without." "Woe, woe!" wailed the voices. "Heaviness is come upon this house, and mourning doth cover it like a garment! For the law — the law of Jehovah is broken ; his .'tatutes are defiled and trodden under THE CHILD AND THE LA W. 41 foot. Verily, we had hoped for a blessing because of this child ! We had expected great things of Jehovah because of the undefiled ! But now is his body polluted ; his vow also hrth he despised and set at naught. Woe ! Woe !" Phannias held his sobbing breath to listen. He had heard sounds like this but once before in his short life ; that was when the son of their neighbor had died of a fever, and the mourners had bewailed him during thrice seven days. He covered his ears with his hands to shut out the gruesome clamor, only tO hear his mother's parting words : **Thou hast touched the unholy dead, and art thyself un- holy' and polluted." He sprang to his feet in a sudden frenzy of grief, and laying hold of his linen tunic tore it in an in- stant from top to bottom. This rending of one's garments, he had been told, was a peculiarly pious act, well pleasing to God ; it signally displayed one's contempt for self, and a holy indifference to bodily comfort which could not fail to gratify the always observant deity. That it furnished a certain relief to overcharged feelings the child straightway discovered, and tore again and again at his clothing till it hung in ribbons about his body. Somewhat calmed by this religious rite, he pres- ently ventured to peep out through the lattice, and was overwhelmed afrerh with poignant humiliation to behold the ten Batlanin and the ruler of the synagogue, in company with certain pious women -«H ' h M i*-* 3 •11 ',1 4a THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. of the village, all beating dolorously upon their breasts, and casting the earth of his mother's garden upon their uncovered heads ; the chanting going on meanwhile with undiminished vigor. " They would not do this thing for Jacob, the potter's son," muttered Phannias, shaken with unreasoning anger; "as for David, the herds- man's son, he may do what he will and there is no one of them all to cry in his ears, *The Law, — The Law ;' I would that I were a boy, and not a Nazarite." Smitten with instant remorse, he fell to repeating the psalms and prayers of the synagogue service with zeal and energy, resolutely closing his ears to the dismal noises without ; this took a long time. Later he discovered that he was hungry. As the slow hours of the morning dragged out their weary tale of minutes, the child concluded that his mother had forgotten him, and this thought was so terrible that he fell to weeping again. Rachel had not forgotten her disgraced child. His painful sobbing pierced her tender soul. She longed to carry the burden of his sin on her own strong shoulders, to comfort him in her warm arms, to fetch him food and drink, lovingly prepared by her own hands ; and all this she would have been swift to do, had she been left to follow the instincts of her heart. But in vowing her child to the ser- vice of God she now discovered that she had bound him to the altar of sacrifice, while Israel, THE CHILD AND THE LAW. 43 stern priest of Jehovah, already stretched forth an authoritative hand toward the victim. Before dawn the ruler of the synagogue and the Batlanin, together with certain rigid and unbending " mothers in Israel," had gathered at the widow's house to bewail with her, and to counsel, direct and restrain her in this the sad hour of her affliction. They decided in solemn conclave that the disgraced Nazarite must fast from sunrise to sunset during three days ; and, further, that he must be left in absolute solitude until the day of his separation, when Ben Huna should take him up to Jerusalem to receive the prescribed cleansings with the bitter waters of purification. The conduct of the remain- ing ceremonials necessary to restore him to the holy state of the Nazarite, from which he had so griev- ously fallen away, they left to the care of the learned rabbi. The good Ben Huna was profoundly disturbed by the grave misfortune which had befallen his favorite. He was, indeed, disposed to take upon himself the reproach of the whole matter. ** It is I who have erred," he said, ** and in no small meas- ure ; I should have told the lad the whole story of the false Messiah. Alas, that angelic innocence must learn the dark ways of earth !" — and he shook his gray head mournfully. " I had the intent to explain the matter in good time ; but in truth I wished first to consider in mine own heart how best to reveal to him that certain, even from the blessed iU i \ ■ 'i n ^:m 1( It 1\ H life '<•:■■ ii iis w :i;t' itiil IP' fel ^4* 44 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. fold of Israel, have gone astray after the man. For all of these things must the boy learn, that he may also teach others to distinguish betwixt the true and the false." The ruler of the synagogue frowned and plucked angrily at his beard. *' It was a dark day for Beth- lehem yonder — ay, and for Jerusal-^m, and for all Israel — when the Galilean carpenter came thither with his wife," he said in a loud voice. " Verily, I have it on good authority that there be many in the town below who do secretly believe the idle tale bruited abroad by the shepherds, and that despite the accursed end of the Nazarene !" " It was a strange story, neighbor, say what you will," ventured one of the Batlanin, pursing up his mouth. ** I have heard my father declare that the man, Joseph, and his wife tarried in the khan dur- ing twoscore days after the birth of the child. There was no end to the wonderful sayings noised abroad concerning the child and his mother. I remember me well how that " "'T were best forgotten, son of Abraham," in- terrupted the ruler of the synagogue, with an au- thoritative wave of the hand ; " — ay, best forgotten. Let us the rather remember that Jehovah brought confusion upon the Nazarene and upon multitudes of his deluded followers. Yea, even Nero, the sin- ful ruler of the Gentiles, hath of late become a scourge in the hands of an offended God to utterly destroy them that confess the accursed name in THE CHILD AND THE LAW. 45 Rome. It were well also to remember that this is a house of mourning because of the false prophet." It was decided that Jabez, the aged keeper of the inn at Bethlehem, should be visited and sternly admonished against a repetition of his offence. He had been more than once forbidden to recount the story of the birth in the manger, it having been long since decided by the sapient authorities in Jerusalem that legends and stories relating to the life and say- ings of the malefactor, Jesus, were blasphemous, and therefore unlawful. Toward evening these excellent neighbors left Rachel alone in her house. With trembling hands she made haste to prepare the poor food she was allowed to offer her child, shutting her eyes to the fact that the sun was yet an hour above the western horizon. " He is but a babe," she whispered to herself; ** and, after all, it was I who made the vow when the poor child knew nothing of it. Jehovah impute the sin to me. An infringement more or less can make little difference to any one of us who has grown old under the law." Treading softly lest she disturb the meditations of "the separated," she approached the door of his chamber. Phannias was curled up in the window- seat, his face pressed close against the lattice. Some- thing in his attitude reminded ihe mother painfully of an imprisoned bird clinging to the bars of its cage. She hastily set down the loaf and the pitcher ■ 1 „ t ,'l! I 4$ THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. of water and was about to withdraw noiselessly when the child turned his head. " Mother," he said softly, fixing his great eyes upon her face, " where is the Messiah ? I wish to go to him ; I wish to tell him just how it all hap- pened ; I know that he will not be angry with me. The shepherd had seen the Prince, thou knowest ; he told me how the angels came down from heaven and sang — thousands upon thousands of .hem ! And one angel, brighter than them all, declared that the Messiah had come, and that they would find him wrapped in swaddling-clothes and lying in a manger. And, oh mother, they did find him ! I have seen the very spot where he lay in the khan yonder — so cold and dark a place, with the manger cut from the rock of the hillside ! The shepherd was old and lonely, dearest mother ; I think the angels took him away with them. If I should tell this to the Prince, surely he would forgive " Rachel raised her hand imperatively, the while she sternly repressed a desire to take the child in her arms and cover his beautiful serious face with kisses. Never had he seemed more holy, never more angelically pure, than at this moment, when the law declared him unclean, unholy, polluted. What if the law was wrong? She thrust the thought from her with instant self-reproach. " My son," she said sorrowfully, " I cannot talk with thee now of this matter ; but thinkest thou if Messiah had come we would have kept thee in ig- THE CHILD AND THE LA W. 47 norance of it these ten years of thy life ? To-mor- row the good rabbi, thy master, will take thee to Jerusalem, there to be cleansed of thy grievous pol- lution ; and where haply thou maycst be permitted to renew thy vows before the merciful God of Israel. Ben Huna will tell thee all that is best for thee to know of the man called Jesus of Nazareth, who unhappily saw the light in yonder city of David. Think no more of the wild tale of the shepherd, but dwell only on thy guilt, that thou mayest purge thy soul before God, to the end that he graciously restore thee to his favor." ** But why may I not already be forgiven, my mother?" asked the child, laying a caressing little hand upon her robe ; ** I have repeated the Sabbath psalms thrice over, the commandments also and the benedictions, the Hallel, and " "Alas, my son !" cried the mother in poignant distress, " he who lifts polluted hands to Jehovah hath committed a deadly sin ! — But the sin is mine, since I did not warn thee," she made haste to add, seeing the deadly pallor that stole over her child's face. " Look, I will fetch sackcloth straightway and ashes, that thou ma>est abase thyself I also will lie in sackcloth, and cry unto God all the night for thee and me." An hour later, when Rachel crept quietly to the chamber of her son, bearing the symbols of woe, she found him quietly asleep upon his bed. Tears hung on his long lashes, but he smiled as he slept. '1 ^|pl::li ■ r "*;■■' ' TUE CROSS TRIUMPUANT. She could not know that the black mists of the day's sordid sorrow had lifted, and anon became radiant with angelic ngurcs, mingling and inter- mingling in cloudy glory, shining rank upon shin- ing rank, wing folded to wing ; while sweet and far the melodious thunder of trumpets preluded the triumphant chorus of " Peace on earth ! Good-will to men !" Half-ashamed — though why she knew not — the woman spread the rough sackcloth over the round limbs of the sleeper, and strewed t!ie ashes, sad symbols of sin and impurity, on the fair young head. But in his dreams the angels sang on. AT Tilt: FOUNTAIN. 49 CHAPTER V. AT THE FOUNTAIN. DURING the short journey from Bethlehem to the holy city it seemed to Phannias that Hen Huna, his kind, affectionate master, had under- gone a terrible transformation ; that he had become, in effect, The Law itself — stern, pitiless, unloving. The child hung his head as he walked apart, slow tears of misery forcing their way from beneath his swollen eyelids. He understood in the fulness of its bitterness what it meant to be " separated." The days spent in his little chamber had been long and lonely, but he now wished that he might have re- mained there forever. As the two, walking slowly as befitted so solemn an occasion, pas.sed through the village streets, curious eyes stared at them from doors and windows ; wayfarers drew aside with ostentatious care to give them room ; while Jacob, the potter's son, busy gathering sticks fof his mother's fire, paused in his occupation long enough to cry out derisively : " Ah-i, Nazarite ! Who now is so much holier and wiser than others ? Thou art unclean as yonder dog— ah-i !" I m h m ".« (^:.i; mi ..«.^i' •M 1 1 1,'^^^^K t '^H^HI ;F ~^i^^B 5'jMHf i i * inSlI •J ■!5<1^ so TIIK CliOSS TRIUMPHANT. Phannias' eyes flashed and his brown fists clenched themselves. •' Raca !" he muttered ; " what knows he of the law !" As for Ben Huna, he lifted his staff threateningly, vowing in his heart of hearts that upon his return not only the strap but also the rod should be visited upon the son of the potter, and that to the limit of the law. The worthy rabbi was secretly overflow- ing with compassion for his charge, but he consid- ered that the abundant nature of the child needed pruning, and what better instrument for the purpose than the sharp blade of the law ? He resolved therefore to omit no smallest detail in the impres- sive ceremonial of legal purification, and to vigor- ously enforce the last requirement of the Mosaic Code and the Talmud. For the time being he reso- lutely forced down both his sympathies and his affections behind the strong wall of rabbinical pre- cept and tradition. He briefly explained to his pupil, in cold, meas- ured tones, that inasmuch as he had been polluted with the foul and terrible unclcanness of death — which was in truth the last appalling consequence of sin, and therefore doubly abhorrent to the pure and deathless Jehovah — he must walk, eat and sleep, solitary and alone, during the seven days of his separation. He added that when the days were accomplished he would relate to him the history of the false Messiah — a story which it was painful to recall, but which was assuredly instructive, since it AT THE FOUMWiy, 51 furnished undeniable proof of Jehovah's abiding wrath upon them that trespassed against the laws of Moses. To all of which Phannias listened in meek silence. When at midday the pair approached Jerusalem, despite his present misery and his vague apprehen- sions for the future, the child's eyes brightened as they rested upon the magnificent city, lying white and beautiful as a holy dream in the arms of its green, encircling hills. Ben Huna straightened himself exultantly. "Awake, awake!" he cried aloud; "put on thy strength, O Zion ! Put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city ; for henceforth there shall no more come into thee the uncircumcised and the unclean. Shake thyself from the dust and arise, O Jerusalem ! Loose thyself from the bands of thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion !" The head of Phannias sank upon his breast. It seemed to him that the distant temple gleamed coldly from awful, unattainable heights of holiness, steep as high heaven. He buried his face in his hands, feeling to the least atom of his small, wretched body that he was unworthy even to look upon **the city of solemnities." Ben Huna's eyes dwelt proudly upon the bowed head. "He understands," he thought, "as no other child of them all could understand ;" — and reflected, not without satisfaction, on the hour when ; If I I ilia a ', '< ^ '1*1 M n .^ 52 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. 1 he should bring the beautiful boy into the temple before the eyes kj'l the great rabbins and doctors of the law. " Remain here, my child," he said, insensibly re- lapsing into his tone of affectionate comradeship ; "I will go into the city and fetch the water of sep- aration, that thou mayest receive the first sprinkling at my hands. While I am absent thou mayest cat bread, and drink from the spring yonder." Phannias had no wish to cat, but the cool ripple of the fountain drew him to its brink. It was a quiet spot, quiet and green and cool. After a time the child ventured to dip his burning forehead into the sparkling water, which welled up, clear as air, in its wo»*n limestone ba^^n, to slip away to the val- ley amid a lush tangle of grass and brilliant flowers. Overhead, in the rosy thicket of wild almond and pomegranate, a bird called aloud. A butterfly, fanning lazily by, dropped softly to his motionless brown hand and rested there for an instant, its jew- eled wings waving slowly in the warm sunshine. Phannias sighed, a long sigh of relief and happiness; for the moment the cold, inexorable face of The Law withdrew itself behind a veil of love and beauty. A woman, ascending with her water-jar from the village below the spring, stopped short on behold- ing the gleam of white drapery between the green leaves. She leaned forward, noiselessly parting the branches, that she might obtain a better view of the wayfarer. AT THE FOUNTAIN. S3 "A child !" she s«iid to herself, with a smile at her caution, and came briskly forward. Phannias lifted his eyes at her approach. " Peace be with thee," he said simply ; then bethinking himself, he drew back. ** I — I am unclean !" he stammered. The woman stared aghast. " Surely not a leper?" she cried. Phannias shook his head. " I have broken the law," he said mournfully. " I am a Nazarite. I have touched the dead." The woman lifted her eyes in pity and amaze. "Dear Lord, who also died and art aHvc again," she murmured, as if to some unseen bystander, •* surely the child is clean in thy sight ! — Where dost thou dwell, Httle one?" she asked, setting down her pitcher and advancing to the rim of the fountain ; "and how camest thou to break tiiy vow?" The voice of the questioner was low and sweet. Phannias, regarding her with shy curiosity, observed that when she smiled her eyes shone with a gentle radiance pleasant to behold. Insensibly he drew nearer, that he might warm his chilled heart in the genial glow. "It was the shepherd who died," he said, half under his breath. " He told me a strange story of angels who came to the earth to sing of peace and good-will — a long time ago. '^here was a babe born in the khan at Bethlehem. I saw the place where it lay, wrapped in swaddling-clothes." ']:« SP 5-';»i'U| 54 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. He stopped short to look at the woman ; she had uttered some inarticulate sound, which he took to be an expression of anger or reproof. '* Yes, I know that thou wilt say it is not true," he said quickly. ** No one believes it, the shepherd him- self said so. It was that, I think, that made him sick and sad — yes, and killed him at the last like a blow." " But I do believe it !" cried the woman, her face shining with so wonderful a light that Phannias stared at her in silent astonishment. ** It is all quite rrue !" After a little time she turned her deep eyes full upon the child. " Did the shepherd tell thee the name of the babe who lay in the manger?" she asked, smiling into his serious face. " He said," whispered Phannias, " that the babe was the Messiah !" " Ay, verily ! and who should know this better than he to whom the angel of the Lord declared it face to face. And did he tell thee what happened afterward ?" The child's sensitive face quivered. " The shep- herd died," he said, looking away toward Jerusa- lem; " I could not ask him more. But Ben Huna, the wise rabbi, who also is my master, said that the babe grew to be a man — a carpenter, in the village of Nazareth ; and that he kept the law until one John, a wild hermit out of the desert, aroused the people with strange ravings of a coming Messiah. In those days the carpenter, whose name was Jesus, (i AT THE FOUNTAIN. 55 also arose and went about among the people, work- ing pretended marvels and teaching unlawful things, I — I do not yet know what became of him ; my master will -will tell me afterward," he faltered, shrinking back before the sudden fire of wrath that leapt up in the eyes of the woman. " I am not angry with thee, child," she said passionately, "but only with the wise rabbi, as thou callest him, who hath told thee the half-truth, more accursed than a lie, which withers in the telling. Look at me, child, and listen well ! — He would have loved such an one as thou ; and thou — ah, if thou couldst but see him ! I knew this Jesus when he lived upon earth, and I declare unto thee God's truth concerning him, as did also the shepherd in his last hour upon earth. He was verily the Prom- ised of Israel, royal Prince of David, born in David's ci'ty, according to the ancient promise. ** It is true that he lived in Nazareth and labored with his hands, meek, obedient to the law as thou thyself; but when his time was come he received baptism from the hands of John and from on high. Afterward he went about among the poor, the sick, the afflicted, proclaiming the love and mercy of the Father ; healing the lame, the blind, the leprous, with word or touch, and even raising them that were dead to life again. Yes, it is true ! And I speak not cf things which I have heard only, but of things which I have seen — ay, seen and touched and handled. I am Mary, of Bethany — in the M f 'M M 56 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. wooded hollow yonder. Jesus of Nazareth was our friend — our ov/n familiar friend ; he tarried with us often." She paused, smiling dreamily, as one whom the impetuous current of her thought had carried far away into some sweet day of the past. ** Our own familiar friend — our dear, familiar friend," she repeated the words softly, caressingly ; then sighed and smiled, and sighed again. " My brother, Lazarus, fell ill," she said, her deep eyes bent upon the gurghng water. " We sent for our friend, Jesus, once, — twice, — thrice ; but he tarried. I could not understand ; I knew that he loved my brother — that he loved us all. Lazarus died at dawn of the third day. My sister and I watched beside his body. * He will come at noon,* I said. But the sun looked down from mid-heaven, and there was neither word nor sign. * He will surely come before evening !* wailed my sister. But he came not. *'At sunset we buried our dead. They rolled the stone before the door of the tomb. All was now ended — finished. He had not come. Others of our friends and acquaintance gathered about us ; the mourning went on drearily through the long hours. He did not come. Four long, black days, and still he did not come. My heart grew sick in my bosom and, at the last, lay cold and heavy as the dead, bound in his grave-clothes. When one told us, * Behold the Master is at hand,' I could not rise to meet him. ' Nay, he loved us not,' I said ; * I will not look upon his face.' AT THE FOUNTAIN. 57 " My sister, Martha, stronger or more faithful than I, went out to meet him. Anon she returned, her face aglow. * The Master is come,' she whis- pered urgently ; ' he calleth for thee.' " At that word my sick heart leapt in my bosom. I rose up and slipped away with all haste. I saw him ! Ah, he knew all ; he loved us ! Yet I fell down at his feet straightway and cried out the bitter thought that had devoured my soul in secret, dur- ing the long hours of watching and weeping : * Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died !' ** I reproached him to his face — the Lord of glory ! Blinded with bitter tears I could no longer see him, but I knew that he was weeping, that he asked, * Where have ye laid him ?' "Some one — my sister, I think — raised me to my feet. ' What need,' I whispered, ' to look upon his tomb !' Others also of our friends who followed us said openly, * Could not He which opened the eyes of the blind have caused that even this man should not have died?' " The low passionate voice trembled into silence ; the dark eyes were fixed upon a green hillside which rose from the wooded hollow near the village. Phannias' gaze followed ; he perceived that the sunny slope, niched with gray, rough-hewn slabs, was no other than the place of tombs — a place of dread, they had taught him, death-polluted, demon- haunted, to be feared and shunned above all other plague-spots of the evil earth. He stared curiously fi^ •• I '4 w 58 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. at the woman. She was not weeping ; she seemed not even sad ; the wide eyes brimmed over with the strange radiance which he had observed upon her face as she spoke of the shepherds. It was assuredly a strange world — the child decided — wherein they wept who should laugh, and rejoiced who should the rather lament. He sighed deeply. "An over sad talc for young ears, sayst thou, little one ?" Phannias looked up ; the woman was regarding him steadily. The strange lovely light had spread over all her face now, so that it glowed like a rich landscape beneath the summer sun. ** Yet not sad, as thou shalt hear, but most beauti- ful, most wonderful, most happy. So it seems to me as I tell it — and I have told it many times since then. "Thouseest the hillside yonder — the place of tombs ; and thou art not ignorant concerning them that enter, pale and silent, into the black door of the sepulcher, how that they come forth no more into the light ? Yet I say to thee with all verity that I have seen the grave give up its dead. The babe of Bethlehem's manger, grown to manhood, — the Friend of sinners, — the Prince of Israel stood in yonder place of tombs. Look, child, there is an empty sepulcher, midway on the hill, beneath the shadow of the tamarisk. It was to that tomb, closed, silent, foul with the damps of corruption, that we came that day, hopeless and heavy-hearted. " * Take ye away the stone !' He commanded. AT THE FOUNTAIN. 59 " My sister laid her hand upon his arm. • It is already four days,' she whispered. '• He turned to her. • Did I not tell thee that if thou wouldst believe, thdu shouldst see the glory of God ?• " Then certain of the men who had followed us, in obedience to her signal, rolled away the stone. A great stillness fell upon us all ; within the blacl: ho)1o\v we could see the dead, lying white and rigid in his narrow prison. The breath of the grave, heavy with spicery, stole out chill and damp into the quiet sunshine, like a stealthy ghost. " He stood before the open door, his eyes lifted to the blue heavens. After a time he spoke, veiy softly, as one would speak to a friend who leaned close to listen. ' Father, I thank thee that tliou hast heard me. I know that thou hearest me always ; but because of these who stand by I say it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me.' " When he had thus spoken, he cried with a loud voice, * Lazarus, come forth !' ** Then he that was dead — our brother — our be- loved — came forth, stumbling, as one suddenly aroused from a deep sleep ; bound, moreover, hand and foot with his grave-clothes. How shall I tell thee, child, of the moments that followed, of the terror and the joy that seized upon us all, so that we were dazed and helpless like the newly-awakened dead. It was the Master who brought us back to ; : ii Ji' ii;- aik . .. 1 6o THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. ourselves, reminding us gently that there was some- thing that we might do for our beloved. "'Loose him,' he said to me quietly, 'and let him go home.' " The woman stooped and dipped her pitcher in tiie spring ; she was still smiling, as one who car- ries about a joyful secret. " I think," she said, *' that the wise rabbi is returning from Jerusalem. He will tell thee more of this Jesus ; ho will tell thee that the wise and learned council at Jerusalem caused him to bo put to death not many days after he called my brother from the tomb. But know, child, that the grave had no power to hold the Anointed of the Highest. He became alive again ! He lives to-day — to-day and forever ! Do not forget !' She turned and hurried away down the steep pathway, her dripping pitcher poised lightly on her head. Phannias stared after the retreating figure in dazed silence, then he started to his feet. ** Where, oh, where is he ?" he cried passionately. " Tell me ; I want to find him — I must find him !" The woman had already gained the terraced street of the village. She turned for an jnstant and pointed upward, then disappeared behind the high wall of a garden. Below, coming wilh long strides along the «.!urty highway, was Ben Huna. He carried in both hands with jealous care a silver vase. The vase contained AT THE FOUNTAIN. 6i the ashes of a red heifer, burned beyond the city gates with pomp and show of priestly ritual. These aslies had been justly commingled with pure water from the great laver of the sanctuary ; the mixture was called the Water of Separation. It cleansed from sin — according to The Law. 62 THE CnO^S TRIUMPHANT. CHAPTER VI. EXPIATION. O TO Phannias, the days that followed appeared like a strange dream, wherein the harsh re- alities of the known and visible world mixed and commingled with cloudy influxes from the infinite and invisible, which girds us about one and all with mystery, never entirely shut out from the most sordid soul, often opening in strange, enchanting vistas before the prescient eyes of innocence. Ben Huna observing the still look of peace upon the face of the child, and perceiving moreover that the silence and aloofness of his separation irked him not at all, was divided in his mind betwixt amaze- ment and displeasure. He was conscious of a keen desire to write with the sharp stylus of the law an ineffaceable lesson upon the white soul of the youth - ful Nazarite. This desire was rooted — or so the good rabbi assured himself — in pure love for the child. If beneath all this recognized benevolence there lurked a secret ambition to be known in days CO come as the guide and instructor of a most holy Nazarite, a wise and mighty rabbi, a high priest, perchance — nay, who could tell — the ambition itself was laudable. EXPIATION, the child's long silken hi! ''"'>' '"'""•"plishcd, ofh-s vo>v were as though thevL P""' ^'='« occasion «cn Iluna devot d tl K ? ""'^ °" ""'^ t^venty-four hours to alealH !'"' P"« °^ "'- '-nsivo disrourse on tli „a l^"' r'" ^-P- '"& uncleanness incurred k! ,'' ''""'^""'"•■'t- He also explained the Tell^ ''""^ "^'= '''-^-'• cleansing water of separal """"' '^ "'"■<^" "'<> '■"ff with enthusiasm on the ""T "'"''""'• ''^^^"- ness of the Creator"„ thu " h"" '"' ^'•^^'•°-- escape for the guilty ^"''"''' =* '""P'-oIe of waxing eloquent and eager' , ^^' "-q-s'tion, and parable, monstrous T.. '"'"^'"'^ "P'^°"'^'n allegorical truth, w "h the t'^^T '"' P'-°'"°""d 'he accomplished schot rf '"'"^ """^^ of dreamily of the man of r.n '''^ "'°"S'" dismal plaee of tombs aL f' '''"'"'"^ '" «>« dead with a voice of po^er ^ T "^ ""'^°'>' the woman of Bethany and her ,t ''°''^' °^ ^"^wer to his wild c v " r .''""^^ ^'■''"''^ '" "The grave could not hold T"'; ''""'^^ '"■«• and forever." He JonL?'''- ^ ^ '^'^ ''"'=' to-day J'^'^o'd this Jes",' ftrcffr '°"^'"^ '° cieath. ' ^"^ ^""^e of Israel and of O" the eighth day Ben Huna brought his charge «|if#' 'i' 0<, , I . .1* 64 THE CHOSS TRIUMPH AST. to the temple, there to offer to the priest the two youn^' pi^^eons, prescribed by tlie law, the one a sin-offering, the other a burnt-offering. The child looked about him with wide wonderin^^ eyes. The solemn ranks of carven pillars, beneath whose mighty feet shone marble floors, stretching away in echoing vistas to distant gleaming gates ; the pun- gent breath of incense mingling with the sinoke of the never-dying fire upon the great altar of sacri- fice ; the white figures of priest and Levite, gliding noiselessly here and there upon their holy errands ; the scattered worshipers, standing motionless with bowed heads, or lying prostrate in agonized suppli- cation before the Jehovah, who inhabited eternity, but who also dwelt in the awful darkness of the Holy of Holies — all this pressed hard upon the sensitive soul of the child. He would fain have hidden his shorn head from the insupportable glories of the place ; but Ben Huna led him steadily forward, through the wonderful brazen gate Beau- tiful ; across the vast glittering court of the women ; up the shining circular steps, worn smooth with the feet of countless worshipers. Mechanically the child counted them, remembering that they were numbered for the fifteen Psalms of degrees. When they stood at last in the Court of Israel, which enclosed in cloistered calm the shining soul of the sanctuary, he lifted his eyes with difficulty to the marvelous structure, towering into the brilliant blue of the midday heavens, as it v/ere a mountain of of M bl( brij me ure witl of pres the thro pillai A\ the V solem when the s\ with f< the ha torily, ritual Ben H blindly pierced hTe wa« instant ing tern yes, of tuary, ^ EXPIATlOX of fire and snow. He hi,l k , ' or the cxceedin,r beauty of ^u" ,'" '' "'*''">' ""'- Blocks or .arWe, o^l J ^ ^l^'^^ ^f ..at brightness ; how that k-.n„ ^ ^ ""^ clazziin|r -n "ad Tor age/b^KIr-T ""' ""^"'^ "^e for its adorning HcL !, T"""' ""' "■^«■•'- f "'•" the g,ea.,-4\van S^l/" f""'^- '"at or scarlet and purple and goj b ' ^ .""'^ ""' presence of the Shechinah fh . ? ""^ "'<= ^^f"' f Godhead, whie t"d t'd^^^ ^'ory of through the wilderness a nm r °'" ^''''•^^ pillar of fire by night ' '^ ' °^ ^'°'"' ''^ ^ay. a Absorbed in these m^^.v ^- the words of the p ieTt tt": '"^ *' "°' "ear solemnly with Ken Hul k, I """'"^ '° ^""fc-" ;^"en the pitifu, .uaveWnVb ea^ofaT T'^""^ the s,lenee whieh followed R *""' "^^l^* with fearas the priest seized the^Lr ^"" '^^"^ the hands of the att^n^. . creature from tori'y. then wrth a mtt r^^*--' '^ P^"^"- "tual led it away towa d S ^T"''^"'""'"^ of BenHunasigned'^o hrcMdt%'r °' ''"''^- blindly. The loud fr^h e 'ed b, °" ' '^ °''^>'^^ P.ereed his heart; it v^ so'^^f "^ °^ '"^ lamb hfe was sweet in the wide fl mnocent, and ■•-tant a fierce unreasonL T"^ '''"^- ^ ^ a" ■•"g temple, of the wWte rot f'^' "' "'^ ^''«- f-- °f the God. hid Sn ,h?"'""^ '^"••^^'- tuaiy, whose anger could h ^°'^'°"' ^^"=- S <:ould be appeased by so w ^ •ISJ 66 THE CROSS TRrUMPIIANT. piteous a sacrifice — swelled his heart almost to bursting. In obedience to a peremptory gesture from the priest, he laid his trembling hand" upon the soft white head of the lamb, responding with faint amens to the loud chanting of the ritual of Atonement. The priest hastily muttered a benediction, then with the practiced swiftness of the priestly butcher he seized the animal by the throat ; a single thrust of the sacred knife and the red life-blood flashed into the golden bowl of sacrifice. Phannias glanced up timidly into the cold, grim face of the priest ; then his head dropped upon his breast and he turned as if to go away. A watchful Levite seized him by the shoulder. "Wouldst turn thy back upon the altar?" he whispered, with an angry frown. " Stand where thou art till the sprinkling be done !" The child paid but scant heed to the service which followed, the while the pitiful little body of the lamb, laid in order upon the undying fire of the vast altar, slowly consumed away. He stared with v/ide eyes at the slender cloud of smoke, which bowed and wavered spirit-like before the dazzling front of the sanctuary. He wondered if the sharp odor of the burning flesh was indeed a sweet savor, pleasing and acceptable to the King of kings throned in the veiled place. Could it be that the awful hidden Presence regarded him with gracious eyes, as he stood without, clean once more and sanctified, EXPIATION. 67 because the lamb had died ? A single drop of the sacrificial blood gleamed red upon the snovvy skirt of his tunic ; the child touched it timidly ; how was it that the dead shepherd — to whom angels had spoken — was unclean, while the lamb — which had eaten grass in the meadows — was holy ? And all the while his lips repeated mechanically the yearn- ing prophetic words of the sacrificial liturgy : " Return, O my soul, to thy rest, For Jehovah hath requited me ! Surely thou hast delivered my hfe from death, Mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. Praise, O ye servants of Jehovah, Praise ye the name of Jehovah ! Blessed be Jehovah's name, Henceforth and forever ! From sunrise unto its setting, Praised be Jehovah's name ! Halleluiah ! Amen and Amen i'* ' '>; It. I ! III 68 TUM: CIiO>S>S TlUUMPliAM'. CHAPTER VII. IN THK TEMPLE. ALL at length was finished. The priest had pronounced him clean, forgiven, sanctified, and restored to grace and favor with God and man. Then it was that a great wave of joy swept over the soul of Phannias. The color flowed back into his pallid cheeks ; his eyes sparkled ; he could have danced, as did King David before the ark. Ben Huna perceived his exultation and smiled — a wise smile. ** Now thou shalt look upon the glories of the temple, my son," he said indulgently, "and delight thine eyes with the beauty of Zion." Phannias looked up joyfully into the face of his master ; it was no longer averted, cold, unloving, like the grim face of the offended Law. " Nay, he was more kind " — thought the child in a rapture of gratitude — " more loving, more wonderfully wise than ever before." " I am already full of joy," he murmured. ** Thou art filled with joy, my son, because thou hast satisfied the requirements of t/w /^rc," said Ren Huna, astutely ; " and thus only may happi- ness be found. Call to thy mind how that David rejoiced and sang aloud of the pleasure to be I^ THE TEMPLE. thy /..re. i,ad been my deii.hf 1 1 ^ f^""'- ^"'^^^ '•" my affliction. I ,W ^vo r ' ''"''^ P"'^''^'' forwith them I,ast tl o ' e^ T *>'^--A-.- '"■•^ thin, that hath SC r^e', Z^^'"''- "pon the tables of thy he.r. f T "''' ' ^^"'^ " ti>e reward of the rL,to '° "" "'°" ''"''^"t "ches also and o of at"',:? 'r^^ °' ''^^-^- Verily. he delighteth in'the'J r """^ °^ J^''''^^'''- Phannias' bright fac c,o 'J" ^'^'''^^r^" the mysterious man of Galil e "'. 1 ?7''^"' 'voman had said— bv tl,„ '^ " ^^ath— the at Jerusalem. •< M^ l^^^. t"' '<=--'' Council timid pa.se. "is it trL that ^v """'"'''''' "'"'^^ ^ God and keeps the la ! f '^ """ ^''° P'^ases many days ?•■ ' " ''°"°'-'^^'> and rich, and of ^en Pluna pursed im i,; i- pride; verily this chiM . ^^ ^''^ ^" a.V of ■^» tnis cliilci was destinnrl f^ v among the askers of deep question .p 1 T "'^ mercy unto thousands o, 'h m Aat , ''°'',^.'"'"'^th J^-eep his commandments " Z '"'" ^"'^ ^'^e'y; "healsovisitet tho '"'"'"'''' ~"^'"- "Pon the children ulh ..?""'' "^ "'^ '""'^"'^ ^t^on of them that 1 t^ht S T' '"""'* ^-- who seemeth to be tiLfZ I " " *^' ''"^ ""an ''ay whethe. it be hi ^ ^f'^'" '"''' ^^''° ^^all which causeth hta o h u' "" °^ '''^ fathers nim to be punished ?" 70 THE CBOSS TRIUMPUANT. '■\\ ji l«i ■r,i|i Phannias sighed deeply. " The Law is a strange thing," he said under his breath, '* — strange and terrible." Before the setting of the sun the twain had looked upon the " Mountain of the House " in all its glory. They had stood in the lofty vaulted chamber of Council, wherein the judges of Israel were wont to convene. The central seat, Ben Huna informed the lad in a reverent whisper, was the throne of the president of the Sanhedrim; on either side v»ciO ranged the semicircular benches of the seventy judges, chosen from among the priests, the elders and the scribes of Israel. " I would not have you ignorant, my son, that thou also art of the priestly line," said the rabbi, as the two passed down one of the stately marble stairways which led from the sacred enclosure into the spacious court of the Gentiles. " At no distant day thou wilt come to thine own ; here shalt thou dwell, holy unto the Lord." "Will the Messiah come to this place?" asked Phannias, staring thoughtfully at a wretched beggar who lay asleep in the shadow of the sacred wall. "Assuredly he will come to this place!" cried the rabbi with exultation, " The Messiah will visit this holy mountain, and the light of it shall extend to the ends of the earth, even as the light of a jasper stone, exceeding precious." The worthy man was silent for a space, then he looked down at the child. He had turned once IN THE TEMl LE. 7« more toward the shining tower of the sanctuary, which gleamed within its fair setting of cloistered courts like a jewel of price. " To think that thou, even thou, my son, couldsl bring that blessed day to pass !" he cried yearningly. " If I could keep the six hundred and thirteen laws," murmured Phannias, hanging his head ; " but I have already sinned grievously " "Thou shalt sin no more because of the false Messiah," said Ben Huna, his face hardening. " Come, we will walk in Herod's portico yonder, and I will speak to thee of the matter, as I prom- ised." The child followed the long strides of his master in silence, and found himself presently in the most wonderful cloister in all the world ; more than a hundred feet in breadth, and a clear thousand in length ; its lofty roof of carven cedar supported by four rows of mighty Corinthian pillars, cut and pol- ished from precious marbles of varying tints. The floor of this vast columned court rested upon vaulted substructures, built up at uncounted cost from the wild valley of Jehoshaphat, hundreds of feet below. Ben Huna, seeing the look of wonder in the eyes of the child, vouchsafed this explana- tion. He also bade his charge observe how, from either side of this so-called Herod's porch, there extended a triple line of Corinthian columns, form- ing a cloister nearly four thousand feet in length, which enclosed the whole area of the temple sj i j> ■ rt; • I'. 72 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. mount ; the cloister in turn being surrounded with a wall of enormous strength and thickness. "The temple," he declaisd, waxing warm with the matter in hand, "is in truth a sacred fortress, splendid, impregnable. It commands not only the holy city but the heights around. God will never allow it lo be removed ; it is eternal as the rock upon which it stands !" The worthy rabbi dilated at great length upon the subject, it being indeed a favorite theme among all patriotic Jews, to whom the temple was not less precious than their own souls. "Thou hast seen the glory and the might of this habitation of the Most High," he concluded, fixing his keen eyes on the child's attentive face. "What now wouldst thou think if I should declare to thee, * I am able to destroy this temple and build it again in three days ?' " Phannias looked his astonishment at this strange question. Then seeing that his master's face was stern and grave, he answered straightway, " I should think that it could not be true." "The babe of Bethlehem's manger, grown to manhood, beheld this place, even as thou hast be- held it," said Ben Huna slowly; "and, standing in the midst of its eternal glories, spake this foul lie. Afterward, when he had blasphemed repeatedly against the law and the prophets— yea, and this holy place also, he declared openly that he was the Christ:* IX THE TEMPLE. 73 The voice of the speaker sank to a hoarse whisper, as though he feared to profane the air with the terrible words. Phannias looked down at the marble pavement in trembling silence. " The outraged chiefs of the nation brought the man before the holy tribunal of the Sanhedrim," continued Ben Huna, in measured tones. " He was found — guilty." ** And what — " faltered the child — "became of him?" " He was nailed to a cross, hand and foot, — cru- cified," said Ben Huna coldly; "a blasphemer fitly tortured betwixt two common criminals on the accursed mount of death yonder." "And — and afterward?" ^* Afterward! Nay, what more of this demon's web of falsehood hath blown about thine ears ? Afterward he was buried. The tomb was sealed and guarded by order of the Roman governor, who had been forewarned of treachery by the watchful priests. The Gentile soldiers drenched themselves with wine, after their heathen custom ; and while they slept their drunken sleep certain ignorant peas- ants — who had followed the man for years, gaping at his false miracles — stole the body. Anon these declared that the crucified blasphemer was risen from the dead — risen and ascended into heaven !" " Didst tJiou see this man?" demanded Phannias, after a long silence. h- \ M '■'Ji m ' I if. 74 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. "Thanks be to Jehovah — no !" I was in Alex- andria during the days of that abomination." "Then how — " and the child's timid voice gained strength — " how is it that thou dost know that he was not — the Messiah ?" Ben Huna looked down into the clear question- ing eyes upraised to his. He was neither angry nor alarmed a' the - lesion. Tie fancied that he detected 'icre lho InHdmg Haggadist, who would, in wise concla/es. -A ih*; future, determine abstruse points of sacred law and ucctrine in such wondrous fashion that men would ask : " Who and what manner of man was the instructor of this mighty scholar ; and at whose feet did he sit, who hath this excellent wisdom ?" ** Thou art not in the wrong, my son, in thy de- sire to penetrate to the very uttermost of this mat- ter," he said, drawing his beard through his hand with an argumentative air. " How to recognize the Messiah through a study of the law and the prophets is a most worthy task, and one which haply shall fill thy days during many blessed years. This crucified carpenter of Galilee was not the Messiah — nay, it were almost blasphemous to couple his name with the blessed name of the Prince of Peace. None, save the unlearned and superstitious, could possibly regard him as such ; and for this I could name thee a thousand reasons. At this moment I will propound to thee one ques- tion. If the man of Galilee actually arose from IN THE TEMPLE. 75 his dishonored tomb — as his followers impudently claim to this da)^ — why did he not reveal himself in this holy place, crowned, triumphant? Who then could have doubtei^ of all the wise and mighty and godly men who here assemble them- selves ? But no*- one of all these — noi one, mark you — sa;, him. The witnesses of the alleged mir- acle were his chosen followers ; and of these the chief disciple, to my certain knowledge, denied the man with curses on the night of his trial before ac Sanhedrim. But, come, it is already the i inth hour ; v/e mast get us down to the city, wherf' ^■h.cv(2 are di\^ers things I would show thee before ve sleep. To-morrow's dawn must find us well i c ur way toward Bethlehem." As the man and the child emerged from a maze of narrow streets into the great square which lay before the Roman tower, Antonia, they found themselves in the midst of an excited multitude, which filled the place to overflowing. "What has happened?" asked Ben Huna, ad- dressing a Jew who had drawn himself up into an embrasure of the wall that he might look over the heads of the crowd. **They are scourging the knave in the castle yard !" replied the man with an air of fierce de- light. " May the lash silence his blasphemous tongue ! — Ah, look ; he is coming out !" The crowd opened like the jaws of ar^ animal, and Phannias saw the tall, emaciated figure of a in 1,! t -a i 76 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. man emerge from the castle gate, which closed be- hind him with a clang. He who had been thrust out stood for an instant looking about him with dazed eyes, then, drawing himself up to his full height, flung his lean arms above his head. " Woe to Jerusalem ! Woe ! Woe !" His voice, curiously muffled and dull, struck ominous echoes like the blows of a hammer from the frowning walls of the castle. •' Woe to Jerusalem ! Woe !" The crowd moaned and shuddered ; cries and curses arose from single throats, but not a hand was raised to seize the man who had been scourged. He walked slowly through the swaying multitude, his bright eyes fastened upon some point high above their heads, his face drawn and fixed in ghastly semblance of a smile. Suddenly he broke into a run, ovvaying his terrible face from side to side, like one who flees from an unsupportable horror ; the strange dead voice beat the air in fainter and ever fainter reverberations. " Woe ! Woe to Jerusa- lem ! Woe !" The man who had spoken to Ben Huna drew a sharp breath and flung his hand across his eyes. " May Jehovah destroy the prophet of evil !" he groaned. "Who is the fellow?" demanded Ben Huna with indignation. "Why has he not been dealt with after the law ? I have seen men stoned for less !" The Jew shrugged his shoulders. " He has been scourged thrice at our instance — with what result, ly THE TEMPLE. 77 thou secst. Our masters, — curse them, will permit us nothing further." He cast a look of venomous hate at the Roman guard, standing stolidly at their posts before the castle gate. " Night and day for more than a twelvemonth, in the streets, in the synagogues, in the very temple itself, that accursed note of evil has sounded in our ears. My God, I will hear it no longer !" With that the Jew thrust his fingers in his ears and fled away like one demented. Ben Huna stared upward in horror and amaze. The myste- rious voice seemed to drop from the air above their heads ; it beat upon the wriLning multitude like the hailstones of an angry God. " Woe to Jerusalem ! Woe ! Woe !" *' 'Tis the voice of a demon !" cried Ren Huna. " Come, we will go !" And grasping the child's hand, he hurried away toward the gate Miphkad. 'I* I:, ; 1 1 . ' '3 « . h^ M .ii ■ ^< ivL, hi- mm 78 THE CBOHiS TliWMPIIANT, CHAPTER VIII. CONCERNING THE PRINCE. THE Phannias who returned to Bethlehem was no longer a child. Rachel perceived this, and insensibly bowed herself before him after the fashion of women. The intimate mother-love, warm as the breast of a brooding dove, gave place to a more distant but not less passionate affection, which consoled itself with endless renunciations, labors, vigils, prayers, wordless and well-nigh un- ceasing. The boy, after the manner of youth, grew and expanded in this atmosphere of love and abnega- tion like a sturdy tree, which, embraced and nour- ished by the puissant forces of nature, comprehends them not at all, save as things necessary for its good. Into his studies concerning the Messiah he threw himself with an ardor which astonished even Ben Huna. During these quiet years, peacefully like the one to the other as the sunshiny days of midsummer, the strange talc of the shepherd and the yet stranger words of the woman of Bethany well-nigh faded from his mind. Ben Huna had not again referred to the crucified Nazarene. " The mind is a treasure-house," he was CONCERNINO THE PRISCE. n wont to declare ; " if it be small, or if it be great, it is one, since God hath set bounds to its capacit}-. Seek therefore to fill thy treasure-house, whether small or great, with that which is good, that thou mayst delight thyself therein, when the evil days come and the windows thereof be darkened." Be- lieving this, the worthy rabbi set himself the more diligently — though in all simplicity of heart — to fill the boy's mind to overflowing with the worthless husks of living truth which the slow-passing genera- tions had heaped to themselves through the ages. Yet ever amidst the dusty heaps of futile wisdom there gleamed here and there shining fragments of truth, dropped as it were in pity from the generous hand of infinite wisdom. Searching his parchment roll of the Mishna, Phannias chanced one day upon a strange prophecy concerning the days of the Messiah ; he carried it straightway to his master. " What sayst thou to this ?" he asked, and read : " In the time of the Messiah the people will be impudent and given to drinking ; wine shops will flourish ; and the fruit of the vine will be costly. None will care for punishment. The learned will be driven from one place to the other, and none will have comj.assion on them. The wisdom of the scribes will be an abomination. Fear of God will be despised ; truth will be trodden under foot, and there will be few that are wise. The son will not reverence his father ; the daughter will rise against ^\ if 1!' \^\ ' .^,-p \:'\fk 8o THE CMOSS TRIUMPHANT. the mother, the daughter-in-law against the mother- in-law, and a man's foes shall be they of his own household. The face of that generation is as the face of a dog !" Ben Huna knit his grizzled brows. " It is a hard saying, my son," he said gravely ; " yet when shall the coming of the Prince be glorious if not at a time when judgments arc ripe against the doers of evil ? Doth not Jeremy the prophet declare the word of the Lord concerning him : * Behold the days come that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a king shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth'? So also hath the prophet Isaiah spoken : ' With righteousness shall he judge the poor and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth : and he shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked.' " Phannias stared thoughtfully at the parchment. " ' The fear of God will be despised,* " he repeated slowly ; " * truth will be trodden under foot, and there will be few that are wise.' What — if — the foolish people reject their Prince, and the genera- tion * with the face of a dog * turn against him to rend him?" Ben Huna raised his hand in solemn protest. ** To question thus were to doubt the eternal pur- pose of Jehovah !" he cried in a trembling voice. " Thinkest thou that the God of Israel would suffer his own Anointed, ordained from the foundation of CONCERNING THE PRINCE, 8i the world, to be despised of the unrighteous? Verily * He will smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked. And the whole earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord !' " As Phannias made his way thoughtfully home- ward he became aware of a stranger, who sat by the wayside as if to rest after the steep climb from the valley below. This man, who was old and poorly dressedj rose upon his approach and stepped forward. ** Canst thou direct me to the khan ?" he said, a certain ring of authority in his deep tones. Then, as his eye traveled slowly over the white garments of the youthful Nazarite, resting at length on the dark, eager face, framed in its loose locks of curling hair, his worn face brightened into a smile of singular sweetness. " Surely, like to thee must he once have been, who walked the earth in the beauty of his holi- ness," he said meditatively. " — Thou art vowed to holiness, my son ; dost thou know the holiest ? Thou art studying the wisdom of the ancients ; hast thou discerned the wisdom of God unto a life that endeth not ?" Phannias regarded his questioner with frank amazement. " I can tell thee where the khan is, good sir," he said. " But who on the earth below or in the heavens above is holiest, save the God who changes not, and who can be known by no man ? As for the wisdom of the ancients, I have 6 j! 1 11 1 1! 1 1^ ; ^ ; ■ « ft I jmfpp 1",. 'I!. 82 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. learned nothing from the wisest of them all of a life which cndeth not." '• Wouldst thou also taste of that bread of God, whereof he that eateth lives forever?" asked the stranger, studying the serious face of the lad, beautiful as that of some listening angel. Phannias made no answer ; and after a pause his questioner continued, with a gesture full of be- nignity, " Sit by me on the bank here, my son, and I will tell thee of this bread of God, which came down from heaven no less truly than did the manna in the desert of Sinai, and by which a man may live forever." Phannias obeyed, wondering and still silent. The stranger made no haste to speak again ; he was looking thoughtfully down the steep path which wound up from the storied valley below. There Ruth, the faithful Moabitess, had gleaned among the shining sheaves ; and David, the poet king, had watched the flocks in his marvelous boyhood. The sheep still fed on the smooth green slopes, and on the further side of the stream the garments of the gleaners shone gay between the shocks of yellow corn. " They have told thee of the child born in the khan yonder, and of his shameful death," he said at last, quietly and without turning his head. " What knowest thou mor^ of Jesus of Naza- reth ?" Phannias started violently ; then the hot color flamed up in his brown cheeks. " I know this of CONCERNING THE PRINCE. 83 the man,'* he said coldly ; * he once stood in the holy temple in Jerusalem, and, looking about upon its eternal glories, declared that he was able both to destroy it and to raise it up again within the space of three days. This was an idle boast, as the event proved. I would know no more of the boaster." The stranger's lips moved in silence for an in- stant ; then he turned his gentle eyes full upon his companion. " If the saying had concerned Herod's temple it would have been not the less true ; for he spake as never man spake^-even the winds and the waves obeyed his voice ; yet he spake not save of the temple of his body. On that day his enemies surrounded him, demanding a sign, and he, know- ing that he was come from God and in what man- ner also he must go to God, said to them : ' De- stroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.* And verily it came to pass ; that evil gener- ation which knew not the face of its Prince slew him with murderous hands. Then was fulfilled that which he had spoken ; on the third day God raised him from the dead with power, and he be- came alive again, and living, ascended before our eyes into the heaven from which he came." "But why," asked Phannias, trembling, "did he not reveal himself in the temple, — crowned, trium- phant? Then they which were wise in Israel would have believed in him." " * The face of that generation was as the face of i y{ 'vM 11 { If :«ii; ' m 84 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT, a dog,' " said the stranger, quietly. " Is it not so written in thy parchment roll ? And was it meet that God's Anointed should discover his glories be- fore them that had rejected and despised him — yea, that had spit upon him, and scourged him, and mocked him, hanging upon the cross. So also he said — and the saying is just and true — * Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.' " " But the cross — the awful tree ; it is written i.. the law that he that is hanged thereon is accursed of God." " Is it not also written," answered the stranger — and p. sweet and terrible light shone from his worn face — " * Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them.' And what man is there who can be justified by the law in the sight of God? Christ therefore hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." •* Nay, but God would not suffer the Messiah to fall under the feet of his enemies, as one accursed of God and despised of men?" cried Phannias, his eyes aflame. " I cannot believe it !" " He was despised and rejected of men," mur- mu'-eri the stranger, bowing his head; "a man of sorrc it we we e< (( Ph Isai, urged and p; upon 1 the br that hi fate of It is nc W&VQ it ward, a of God The* looking and yea scarce c glories. bowed h; not After £ upon his him with 1 well who ^ight whic gently; " wills thine light, and co<^CEHmya the prs^ck 85 sorrows and acquainted with P-rief • , ^ , « were, our faces from hJT H ' . "" '"'^' ^^ we esteemed him not '' ""^ '^"P'=^'^ 3"'' Phannias started at '■■nnnA ^r ..u ,■ •'isaiah wrote not of he llfah .^f ' ^''"^■ urged vehemently. « • Beho-dTJ~t^ """ •'" ^« -d prosper ; he shall ef ecute ,ud ^"^ ^'^'i ^"■^" "pon the earth -The ZiTl J "^gment and Justice that he hath already come . wT ' ''""°* ''^ fete of Israel if such T? I r^ ' """"'^ ''^ «>e It is not .rue-it clnot I"^"' """^^^■'^ true? ''•eve it !•• The hn """^ ' ^ ^'" "<^ver be- ward. as if hel'j. rheVo'd"?"' V^"- "P" of God's wrath ^wJa "'^ "^"^^d weapon lookmg up into the rad;;,nf u ' ^^^° "'^^ -^ yearnin,^ as ^n^X to^L '" ^ '°^^' scarce drawn over lonp-.r. f . ^°"'' ^ ^^''' g'ories. He was ILnt 5 f ,'"'' "-^i^^endent bowed his head wS ; ?. '";° ""t-''y Phannias _^^^ aa, wa,t.,g, though for v,hat he knew "Po^'n't^ st Idt "ThT f ^^^^ °^ ^ "•^''' --H Wm with a melancholy smile '"."ir T "^"""^ well who have sought to blind ^V^ ^^' ^'"''"^ ''' '-•ght which hath shin d in tl A l"' '^"^^ *° "'^ gently;..yetlhavepravedfl.f "''''" ""' ''''' wills thine eyes shaH h? . '"' ""'^ ^''^" God light, and thf ;ic: of °T J ?°" ''''' -^ ^''^ & Of the Lord Jesus Christ shall \i t ( 1.5;! »!4,,tl ! . 'ftj I !, I ■« ; 4 Mi •i*. ! ' cKj^J muMMf^ 86 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT, come upon thee there to abide." With a gesture of farewell, he turned away. Phannias watched him as he toiled painfully up the rugged path which led to the ancient khan, a long shaft of sunlight falling in sudden glory upon his bowed figure. A (^UEHTWN AND AN ANiWKJi. «7 CHAPTER IX. A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER. HAD the Messiah already come, and had he been rejected and put to death by a blind and maddened people ? This terrible question pursued Phannias through tortured hours and days. He turned to the prophets with feverish energy, reading again and again the solemn sayings of Isaiah, which the stranger had repeated. "It cannot — cannot be!" he cried aloid, tears of anguish starting to his eyes. But like a strain of melancholy music the prophetic words rang con- tinually in his ears ; he could not but listen ; " Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows ; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities : the chastisement of our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we are healed." Rachel was not slow to perceive that something was amiss with her son. Anxiously she prepared the most tempting foods, and made all possible haste in the fashioning of certain garments which the lad, human enough in his boyish likings, had 'V, 'uM ''■Mr 88 TUE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. coveted. But none of these things sufficed to draw from him so much as a glance of surprise or ap- proval. And when for the third time he left his favorite doves unfed, and in his distraction trampled a blossoming lily under foot, she resolved to pene- trate his reserve and find out for herself the nature of those absorbing studies, which she had begun to regard with alarm and disapproval. "Surely the child must eat," she said reso- lutely. " Even the great prophets could not live by fasting alone. As for the priests in the temple, do they not continually feast upon the fat of the land till they be sleek and flourishing. — And such also is God's good will concerning them that do his pleasure." Full of these thoughts she approached Phannias, who sat, musing with cloudy brows, on his favorite bench beneath the fig tree. "My S)r[,'' she began timidly, "wilt thou not take of the bread which I have baked for thee ? Here also is a savory dish of the lentils, which thou art wont to eat with pleasure. See now, I have made them ready for the third time." Phannias looked up with a shadowy smile. " I am not hungry, my mother," he began, a faint note of apology in his voice. " Nay, son, but thou art hungry ; rise, therefore, and eat, lest thou become faint and overborne. — Much learning is not good for thee, who art yet but a child," she added, with a hostile glance at the A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER. Bg scroll wb' '' "'^ beside him on the bench. ** Thrice in the days j ... uave I been minded to take from thee the parchments and bestow them in a place which thou wottest not of. Must I see thee perish before my eyes like a leaf that withereth ? For what then have I lived all these years, if I must be- hold this evil come upon me?" Phannias stretched out his arms with a great choking sob ; for the moment he was a little child again, and his mother, full of authoritative love and wisdom, seemed, even as of old, the sure refuge from the poignant misery which he had borne in silence till he could bear it no longer. " Mother !" he cried, " what if the Messiah has come and we knew him not !" Rachel drew back in horror and amaze. " Nay, now I know that thou art ill ! Much study hath well-nigh destroyed thy understanding. Come, now, eat of the meat which I have made ready for thee, and afterward sleep ; thou wilt awake to wonder at thy sick fancies." But Phannias was not to be comforted with savory dishes, nor soothed with sleep. " Listen," he said imperatively, "I will tell thee all ; then thou mayst judge for thyself whether I be mad. — Nay, if all Israel be not mad — doomed !" In rapid, dis- jointed sentences he poured out all that he had heard concerning Jesus of Nazareth,— the shepherd's tale, the strange words of the woman of Bethany, and the meeting with the traveler beside the road f^S 90 TinJ CROSS TRimtPlIANT. leading to the khan. More than once his mother made as though she would have interrupted the fiery torrent of his words ; almost roughly he bade her hold her peace till he should have finished. At length his head sank upon his breast and he was silent. His mother gazed through her tears at her child's downcast face and bowed figure. "It is no less than the \W\\ One," she cried, "who also desires to pervert thee from thy holy calling ! Yes, truly," she went on, her voice gaining strength with her righteous wrath, " has he not thrice attacked thee in hours of weakness ? First, when thine ears were filled with the mad tale of the dotard at yonder inn — may Jehovah requite him ! Again, when thou wast weak and ill because of the fasting, as thou wast going to Jerusalem to be cleansed, and now " " Nay, my mother," said Phannias wearily, " thou hast not seen these witnesses of the past ; they were godly in speech and conduct even as thy- self." " Who art thou that judgest ?" said Rachel boldly. " Art thou not still a child ; and hath not the Evil One power to assume what semblance he will ? See now, thou shalt eat, as I have bidden thee ; afterward we will talk further of this matter." An hour later, having seen her beloved wrapped in the profound slumber of exhaustion, she slipped away to find Ben Huna. The rabbi heard her story A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER. yi without question or comment. But it was evident that he was neither seriously alarmed nor angry at what had happened. " Thou art quite in the right, my good woman," he said, with that amiable con- descension which marked the intercourse of the learned with an inferior creation — *' quite in the right ; the Evil One goeth about openly, like a roaring lion ; and anon, thinly disguised in the robe of righteousness, that he may entrap the unwary and innocent of heart. These mischief-making Nazarenes swarm in our midst like the devouring grasshopper ; they go from place to place diligently spreading what they are pleased to call • the good tidings,' even as did their master, before his career was fortunately cut short by death." The rabbi lapsed into silence for a time ; then he went on argumentativcly, more as if speaking with himself than with the distressed mother, who hung upon his words with the utmost anxiety. "Ihe lad is a good scholar — learned in the law beyond his years. Nay, there is no one like him, even in the great schools of Jerusalem. I, Ben Huna, have said it. Even so, great scholars and those learned in the law have been entrapped by this heresy ; wit- ness Nicodemus, one of the holy Sanhedrim, and Joseph of Arimathea also ; yea, and Saul of Tarsus, — Lord, Jehovah ! why permittest thou such things !" " What of these men of whom thou hast spoken?" interrupted the mother, leaning forward breath- lessly. •UK 'A 4 I'l ■):| IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 5t '^fi ^^^<^ 4i. 1.0 I.I 1^128 ISO "^^ ■ 2.2 ii 1.25 lu lA ■• 6" ► 7^ ^: V /: y /^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 (716) •72-4503 92 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. Ben Huriu lifted his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. " They were drawn away after the false Messiah, woman ; blasphemously accepting the accursed fruit of the tree as the Anointed of Jehovah. And why they did this — how it was ac- complished, I swear I cannot understand !" — draw- ing his beard meditatively through his large wrinkled hand. " I have heard these Nazarenes prate of a mysterious power which came upon them from above, which compelled them to believe. Verily, there must be some diabolic power at work here. These miracles of the so-called apostles now, they are undoubtedly strange — strange. In my opinion the Sanhedrim pays too little heed to this matter ; 'tis more than a sect, in my opinion ; 'tis a sword, menacing the Hfe of the nation." " But Phannias," cried the mother, venturing to interrupt the current of these sapient meditations — •* what must I do with my son ? He is even as a young eaglet, struggling in the snare of the fowler !" and she wrung her hands weakly. " If these Nazarenes have diabolic powers, as thou hast said — nay, I also have said it — have they not already drawn their invisible meshes about the child ? And if my child is undone, I am ready to die ; there is no good thing left to me in all the world !" " Hold thou thy peace, woman !" said Ben Huna, with a large gesture, expressive of a patient tolerance, which is yet not to be trifled with. "There shall no evil befall the lad. Have I not .1 QUESTION AND AN ANSWER. 93 ■f '-! already enriched his mind with the wisdom of the ancients ; and shall I not presently pluck out these evil sayings from his heart, even as a wise husband- man plucks out the noisome weeds from his fair garden spaces? Behold how the winds in their wanderings waft viewless germs of evil even from the ends of the earth ; they fall hither and yon, on the field of the diligent man and on the vineyard of him that despiseth labor. God wills it so. But the diligent man will straightway pluck up the evil growth before it bear the fruit of mischief, while the vineyard of the idler is choked. Look you, th'^ lad is no longer a child, that thou, a woman — albeit a godly and diligent woman — mayst guide and direct. The hour has struck when he must leave thee and go up to Jerusalem, there to abide. And this should have been long since ; verily I was not slow to perceive it ; yet I had compassion on thee in thy lonely estate and said nothing of it. If now thou wouldst behold thy son honored in Israel, thou wilt not open thy mouth to say me nay." Rachel bowed her head. She had lived through this hour in the silence of her shrinking soul a thousand times. " I have already given my son to the service of God," she said with resignation. But two large tears silently arose and looked out from her sorrowful eyes. i' i. H'* i It} f I l5i 94 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. CHAPTER X. JESUS IV. THE tree of Israel was dead. The fiat had gone forth : " Cut it down ; why cumbereth it the ground?" But though the ax was already lifted, the tree stretched its meager branches to the threatening heavens, its withered foliage shivering in ghastly semblance of life. The strange question which fell from the lips of a rejected king as he walked the streets of Jeru- salem for the last time was about to be answered. " If they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry ?'* Israel had forgotten the question. But the an- swer, prepared from the foundation of the world, was at hand. In all the doomed nation no prophet with tongue of fire called the people to repentance ; no yearn- ing message of love and pity fell from the darkened windows of heaven ; no angel embassy, clad in the shining insignia of Jehovah, chanted of ** Peace, good-will, to men." From time to time the far-reaching echoes of the gathering hosts of heaven struck faint notes of fear from the sacred mountains round about Jeru- JESUS IV. 95 salem. At such times the people would pause in their occupations and gaze at one another with fur- tive eyes. Yet for the most part men laughed and wept ; ate and drank ; made merry at weddings and feasts ; wore sackcloth for their dead ; vowed solemn vows ; prayed long prayers ; fetched tithes of mint and anise — all in the old, old fashion ; the while the undying fire burned in the vast, shining temple, and the smoke of countless sacrifices arose to the nostrils of an angry God. In the year 66 — counting from the birth of the man of Galilee — Phannias the Nazarite came to Je- rusalem. In those days he possessed the body of a warrior, the face of an angel and the soul of a child. His master, Ben Huna, bent and powdered with the rime of years, but scarce less a child in the guileless candor of his heart, came with him. " This youth is destined to great things in Israel," he declared boldly to the chief priest — one Jesus, fourth of his name in the high-priestly line. " I, Ben Huna, for many years now a member of the lesbcr Sanhedrim, have instructed him both in the wisdom of the law and the prophets ; he will shine as a lamp in the sanctuary of the Most High, even as did the Nazarite, Samuel, in days of old." The high priest turned his impenetrable front full upon Phannias ; the young man stood up boldly under the cold gray eyes, which peered out at him from a network of crafty wrinkles. " There is already no lack of light in the dwelling-place of £1 i . ( M m 96 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. Skaddai," he said in measured tones ; " who also hath created the light to enlighten his people Israel — Blessed be his righteous name ! The young man will find full employment for his powers in the service of the temple, if haply he be accepted of the holy Sanhedrim." Ben Huna, who was openly disappointed with the cool reception accorded his favorite, would have spoken further ; but before he could determine which were most cogent and convincing of the many words which crowded hotly to his lips, he found himself in the anteroom of the audience chamber, the in- terview plainly at an end. Two days later the worthy rabbi, who still lingered in Jerusalem, was again commanded to appear in the palace. This time he was admitted alone to the august presence of the potentate. ** Concerning this Nazarite, who is of the seed of Aaron," began the high priest without preamble ; " what of the record of his genealogy?" Ben Huna turned pale to the lips. " We have found an irregularity in the line of descent," he faltered — ** in the ninth generation of the mother, but " " Thou must search out this irregularity and make it good," interrupted the high priest peremp- torily. ** The youth shall serve as I will direct until the matter be established beyond a peradventure." Ben Huna opened his lips to reply, but on second thought he remained silent. -If^ so le JESUS IV. 97 After a brief pause the high priest continued ju- dicially, " 1 learn that the candidate is unpolluted by any one of the one hundred and forty-four phys- ical blemishes which would have invalidated him from service. This is well." — Then with a keen glance into the downcast face of the rabbi, " The single missing name in the ninth generation of the female line might well have clad the youth in the sable garments of disgrace and eternal banishment, but that I willed it otherwise. Yet the irregularity is a stigma not to be tolerated ; it must be removed ere we can receive him into the full fellowship of our holy calling." After he had dismissed the worthy rabbi with a muttered benediction, Jesus IV. sank back upon the richly embroidered cushions of his divan with a languid sigh. '* It were well," he thought, ** to hold in check such youthful aspirants to the priesthood ; these are no times for would-be prophets ; we may have other and better use for this gigantic Naza- rite." Further desultory reflections on this unim- portant theme were cut short by the announcement of a messenger from the temple. At sight of the terrified face of the man who entered his presence, the high priest started up from his recumbent posi- tion. " What now, Phinehas ?" he demanded sharply. " Hast thou fetched me the moneys?" " Alas, my good lord !" gasped the custodian of the temple treasure — for it wis no less a person who stood trembling in the high-priestly presence. '"Woe 7 I' ■>m ^m 98 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. is me, revered servant of Jehovah ! how shall I tell thee of what has happened !" "Tell it with thy tongue, blockhead," cried the priest wrathfully. " What is it that hath hap- pened ?" "The treasure — the sacred treasure," wailed the man — tearing at his garment ; " the accursed Gen- tile hath laid violent hands upon the treasure, and hath taken away seventeen talents of gold !" "What is this thou art saying?" cried the high priest, starting to his feet ; " hath the procurator, Florus, dared to do this thing?" "I was about my duties in the temple," said Phinehas, growing somewhat more composed, "when on a sudden a file of Roman soldiers — may leprosy and death seize upon them ! burst into the sacred enclosure. What could I do ? They de- manded — and took — seventeen talents !" "What of the guard?" " The guard fled, your highness." " But the Levites — what of them ? Was there no one of all the thousands employed about the place to raise a hand in defence of the treasure ?" " Those who remained in the enclosure stood as if turned to stone, my lord ; all save one, a stranger, who chanced to be separating the sacred wood from certain knotty and imperfect sticks hard by. He smote the centurion, and would have felled him to the earth had not the soldiers beat him off with the flats of their swords." JESUS IV. 99 " What was the name of this priest ?" said Jesus sharply. •• I did not wait to ask, my good lord." " Go back ; find him, and send him hither." The custodian of the temple treasure hesitated. •* It appeared to me, my good lord," he said cring- ingly, " that the youth was dying ; I therefore bade the Nethenim remove his body to the vaults, that the temple might not be defiled. He was a Naza- ritc — by his hair I judged it, and had not received ordination." The high priest lifted his eyebrows. " A pious end," he said indifferently. Then he turned sharply to Phinehas. " This thing must not come to the ears of the people, else there will be a tumult, and mischief beyond the reckoning." He ground his teeth in impotent fury. ** To lose seventeen talents is a terrible disaster ; but more and worse will come if the people openly rebel." ** Unfortunately, revered servant of the Most High, a number of persons vvho were in the court at the time witnessed the occurrence." ** Get you back to the temple without delay," in- terrupted the high priest. " Assemble every priest and Levite in the Court of Israel ; I will follow." t"J]\\ ;?' 1 m * 1 r 1! '*f, 1 ' ' ' ( > ' 1, :M loo THE CMO&S TMIUMFHANT, CHAPTER XI. THE REJECTED. IF Ben Huna was bitterly disappointed in the cir- cumstance which debarred his favorite from the full functions and honors of the priesthood, it was far otherwise with Phannias. The dream of his life was at length realized ; he was to dwell perpetually in the shining courts of Jehovah, whose every service was fraught with mysterious possi- bilities. He would have accepted the meanest duty of the lowliest of the Nethenim — or servants of the Levites — with joyful alacrity. To stand twice each day in the Court of Israel — the while the singing Levites emerged in solemn white-robed procession from the subterranean music rooms, to assemble in serried ranks upon the Steps of Degrees; to hear them call, one company to another, in their sweet, musical voices : " Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! Lord God of Sabaoth !" the harps, the citherns and the cymbals clashing in silver ecstasy — was to thrill with a joy un- speakable. And when, in the intervals of the chanting, the priests blew mightily upon the sacred trumpets, and at the sound the whole congregation THE REJECTED. lul fell down, worshiping upon their faces — Phannias lifted his glowing face to the white walls of the sanctuary, his soul swelling with a passion of gratitude. To be born a Jew, he thought at such times, was to inherit a wondrous past and a yet more wondrous future ; to be born a priest of Jehovah, was little short of being made an angel ! In these first days of his novitiate he looked joy- ously into the faces about him ; surely all who served in the Mountain of the Lord's House were his brothers beloved. Here he would discover tranquil lives, reflecting the face of God, as still pools reflect distant stars ; and mingling with them in familiar intercourse he would find deep answers of peace to all the burning questions which had vexed his soul. On the third day of his service he ventured to speak of his thoughts to the priest, whom he had been set to assist in the task of selecting un- blemished wood for the sacrificial fire. This priest was old, bent and wrinkled, as Phannias had al- ready observed ; he moved stiffly and scarce lifted his eyes from his work. The iv^'o were busy in one of the chambers of the Women's Court. ** Hast thou served long in this holy place, good master?" asked Phannias, making haste to relieve his companion of a heavy load of knotted and worm-eaten sticks which were to be cast into ** the closet for rejected wood." 1 \ Mwrnm mm ^^ r^]\w\ i^R i ' ,1 .' hbm^ (;f ''n:" IM \i :■:,: w^ 1 ^ ' '1 nflj 1 ' . ■' ' f i|i|i] P ! 1 .1 J aAn 1 1 ■ 1 r I , mI 1 \ 'S • % .{ '.: 1 i 1 ^ ' 1 ■1 { i ]•; ■' i ' ' i'-^- i 1 1 ;P*'i r . r. ■.ill *■«;'- JM l*»' ; iff » un ■ i * I02 THE VliOS^ TlilUMPIIAXT. f The old man lifted his dim eyes. " Who calls me master ?" he said frowning — *' Nay, if thou wilt make a jest of my infirmities, I must bear it. Yet thou also hast been set aside or thou wouldst not serve here." " How then shall I call thee?" " Call me Jachin," said the old priest shortly, turning a stick over and over in his withered hands. After a little he spoke again, fixing his dull eyes upon his companion with a faint show of curiosity. " Why art thou sorting wood for the sacrifices, who hast a comely face and an upright body ? For myself I was not permitted to serve at the altar because of a crooked finger ; Jehovah despiseth the man or thing which hath a blemish — blessed be his holy name ! So for more than forty years I have separated the spotted, gnarled and worm-eaten sticks from them which be sound and fit for the great altar. I have eaten also of the bread of the Lord's house. Yet, thrice within a moon have I been deprived of my food because I allowed a blemished stick to pass into the house of burning. Mine eyes wax dim with age and I can no longer see as I once did." ** Why dost thou not ask for thy portion and go away to thy home ?" asked Phannias ; ** surely after forty years " " There be four and twenty thousand priests of Jehovah in Israel," interrupted the old man, in his high shaking voice ; " and how, thinkest thou, may THE REJECTED. 103 the great palaces of the chief priests be buildcd and victualed if these all receive a portion ?" •* It is the law !" " Oh the law — the law ! There is one law for the great and rich of the eartli ; there is another for them that lack. But why wilt thou hear these things from me ? Thou wilt presently know them for thyself. Verily, I have more than once re- membered the saying of a certain man out of Galilee, who also visited the temple many times in his day, and whose mouth was stopped by them that were in power." " Dost thou speak of the false Messiah ?" asked Phannias with hesitation. The old priest shook his head. " I speak of Jesus of Nazareth," he said ; " who and what he was, God knoweth. I have thought more than once — but no, what profit in speaking one's thoughts." " Didst thou see him ?" '* See him ? More than a score of times ! I re- memoer once on a certain feast day when the money- changers and the sellers of sacrifices thronged the temple gates, and even pressed in beyond the limits set them into places where it was not lawful for them to be ; — for, look you, there be great gains in feast days to them that sell, and none know it better than the chief priests, whose creatures have seized upon all the temple business, " On that day the Galilean made unto himself a scourge, and with it drove out every mother's son \ r'l iffi Mm m :*s'^- 4.,) t04 THE CROSS TRIUMPllAST. r "ii i. '^'k> of them, together with the sheep, the oxen and the (loves. Also he overturned the tables of the money- changers, scattering the lieaped-up gold and silver, as a strong wind scatters the dust of the highway. When the multitude stood amazed at sight of one driving a ruck of men and animals before him with a whip of small cords — for no one of them all, even of the priests and Levites, durst for the mo- ment withstand him, he turned to them and cried aloud : * Behold, it is written, my house shall be called the house of prayer ; but ye have made it a den of thieves !' Ay, verily, it was a true word ; I could have told him so !" "Dost thou believe that he was the Christ?" asked Phannias, under his breath. The old priest shrugged his shoulders. " Do I not serve in the Mountain of the Lord's House," he answered, "and eat of the meat of the sacrifices? and shall I commit folly in my old age, as did cer- tain others of the priesthood, who followed him and were cast out to starve? Verily, one must live, and what matters a belief this way or that way to a bare back and an empty belly." Phannias stared at his companion with frowning brows. "What matters a bare back and an empty belly to one who would know the truth ?" he said loudly. " Is a man even as the beast of the field, who lifts not his eyes from his fodder from the day he is born till the day he falls under the knife ?" The old man burst into a cackle of senile i Mil CI. 1 THE REJECTED. 105 laurhter, " Oh, ay, thou art a brave youth and hast a nimble tongue ! Such as thou art was I also ; but praise be to Jehovah, who hath given me wisdom with my years. Verily, when the children cried ' Hosanna to the son of David ' in the Court of the Women yonder, I would have joined them but for my robe. — Ay, they cried ' Hosanna' from the morning until the evening sacrifice, and no man could stop their mouths ! The Galilean stood yonder, where thou seest the w'oman with the black veil, — at my work here, I beheld it all ; and there the blind and the lame came to him to be touched. — Yes, I swear it by the great altar, the blind went away seeing, and they that were crippled cast away their beds and walked, leaping and praising God ! It was a great day. These eyes have seen nothing like it." " But the high priest and the councillors," cried Phannias ; " did they also see these wonderful things ?" " They saw, and heard — yes, truly ; but they were angry. And where in the law canst thou find it written that a man may receive Hosannas in the temple ? The Nazarene should have rebuked them." " If he were the Prince " " Ay, if he had been the Prince would he not have given us a sign that we might know him ?" And Jachin drew himself up with something of the pride and authority of his office. " Verily, we de- lo6 THE CROSS TBWMPHANT. M manded such a sign and he refused it. We asked by what authority he did these - hings, and he cast the question in our teeth. * I will also ask you one thing,' he said, with the cunning of a more learned than he ; * the baptism of John, whence was it, from heaven, or of men ?' What then could we say ? If we had answered, from heaven, he would have asked, ' why then did ye not believe him ?* If we had affirmed that it was of men — or of devils, as many of us also believed, the people would straightway have risen against us ; for they were persuaded that John was a prophet." " And what said ye ?" asked Phannias, eyeing his companion with interest. This question was never answered ; at that mo- ment a sound of tumult, of clanging arms, of voices that cried aloud, of hurrying feet startled the laborers. " It will be another uprising among the people !" whispered the old priest. ** Come, let us go ; there is no good thing abroad !" And seizing Phannias by the arm, he would have dragged him into one of the hidden stairways which led to the underground chambers below. But the Nazarite wrenched himself loose and darted away in the di- rection of the voices. What he presently beheld was this, a file of Ro- man soldiers, headed by a centurion carrying a drawn sword in his hand, in the act of emerging from a stairway beneath the tower of the Gate THE REJECTED. 107 Beautiful. He had already learned of this subter- ranean passage, which connected the temple with the Roman garrison in the tower of Antonia ; * ,ut it was with a thrill of horror that he beheld these idolatrous Gentiles close to the sacred wall, upon which, carven in letters of Hebrew, of Greek and of Latin, were inscriptions, forbidding all such to enter under penalty of death. Observing the young man in his priest's robe of service, the centurion, who had paused somewhat uncertainly at the top of the stairway, beckoned him to approach. '* Where is the treasure room, Jew !" he said peremptorily. " Lead us hither at once ; we have business with the custodian." "Knowest thou the law," cried Phannias, his face white with anger. " Get thee back to thy place or thou shalt die the death !" He advanced threateningly, lifting the knotted stick, which he had forgotten to drop as he left the wood room. The centurion burst into a loud laugh. " By the girdle of Venus, priest, thou art bolder than thy fellows ! Stand aside ! if thou wilt not answer a civil question, we must even find the shekels for ourselves. Seventeen talents is the sum which our master — and yours, Jew — hath commanded us to fetch." A sound of wailing burst forth from the cloistered corridors above the court ; Phannias looked up and beheld the white faces of priests and Levit6S, peer- ing down upon the scene with manifest terror. 3 1 ]■' 1 i 1 : '' ' h i J i to8 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. " Come down !" he shouted angrily. " Wilt thou suffer the heathen to despoil the Lord's house with- out striking a blow ?" and Hfting his club he rushed in blind fury upon the centurion. He was conscious of delivering a crashing blow full on the hel meted head of the Roman ; then he fell stunned and bleeding, the glittering walls of the temple, the blue sky and the angry faces of the soldiers blending in a mad whirl before his dazzled eyes, as he sank into a sightless, soundless deep of silence and oblivion. OUT OF THE DEPTHS, X09 CHAPTER XII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. PHANNIAS sat up slowly and looked about him. He beheld a great chamber, dimly lighted by certain faint beams, which, struggling through a grated opening overhead, rested like long pallid fingers upon a naked floor of stone. This floor stretched away to meet vague outlines of arch and pillar, vast, shadowy and apparently without number. Strange sounds filtered with the strange light through the grated opening ; groan- ing cries, frenzied shouts, the mad rush of hurrying feet mingled in a vast, discordant roar, pierced from time to time with the strident note of trumpets, calling one to the other like voices. Phannias passed his hand across his aching fore- head. He could remember nothing ; then his eye fell upon his priest's robe of service ; the fair white linen was darkly spotted and stained. " The temple !" he cried, reeling to his feet. '* My God, they are robbing the temple !" Stumbling in the half darkness over fallen frag- ments of stone, he darted away among the shadowy pillars, his ears ringing with the muffled sounds of tumult. As his dazed senses gradually cleared, he '^ 'i? 111' !| 1!, 1 1 ' r I no THE CEOSS TRIUMPHANT. lii^ slackened his pace and finally came to a full stop. Not far distant a shaft of sunlight fell with blinding glory into the gloomy place and rested, a pool of golden yellow, on the stone floor. In the midst of this patch of sunshine knelt the figure of a priest, his white robes shining like snow in the brilliant light. Glancing down with shame at his own blood- stained garments, Phannias slowly approached this resplendent figure, his bare feet making no sound on the dusty pavement. He had come within per- haps twenty paces of the kneeling priest, when he again stopped, frozen with astonishment and fear. The priest had stretched himself at full length be- side an opening, which in some mysterious fashion had yawned at his feet. He now reached down into an unseen receptacle and produced, one after the other, a number of glittering objects which he heaped up beside the aperture. Golden censers, chains, candlesticks, were added one after another to the shining heap, with earrings, armlets and jewels of strange barbaric design and workmanship. The priest finally replaced the stone, glancing furtively over his shoulder into the shadowy depths beyond ; then he hastily bestowed the objects in a sack which he drew from under his robe. When he had finished his task he arose and walked slowly away. The Nazarite's tongue clave to the roof of his mouth ; he knew that he had witnessed the open- ing of one of the secret treasure vaults of the K OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Ill temple, whose whereabouts and contents were known only to the chiefs of the nation. Hot with shame and contrition he darted forward. " Hold, servant of Jehovah !" he cried, his voice rolling in startling reverberations beneath the low- springing archways and falling in a thousand faint echoes from the vaulted roof. The effect of these simple words upon the retreat- ing figure was still more astonishing ; the priest dropped the sack of treasure, and falling flat upon his face, poured out a torrent of indistinguishable words mingled with frenzied prayers and entreaties. "I will atone!" he wailed, tearing at his gar- ments. " I swear that I will atone ! I will offer two score bullocks upon the altar, and as many fatted firstlings ; I will give to the poor a hundred shekels, and " "It is I who should atone," said Phannias, stoop- ing over the prostrate figure ; ** I have seen what I ought not to have seen ; yet was I innocent in the matter, for I came to this place not knowing whither I went." Before he had uttered the last word the priest had sprung to his feet. " I know thee now ; thou art the meddlesome Nazarite who struck at the centurion," he hissed, his face distorted with rage. " And wilt thou spy upon me, while I remove the sacred utensils for the morrow's service ?" he drew back a pace, his features settling slowly into the mask-like composure of the officiating priest. (i4 / ■ / J Hi tia THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. **Thou art young and impetuous, my son," he continued — his voice no less changed than his face ; "thou must learn discretion with experience. I was sorely disturbed in my sacred functions by thy unexpected and unlawful presence. Yet go thy way for this time — forgiven." "Where wilt thou that I shall go?" asked Phannias, — "for indeed I know not where I am nor how I came to this place." The priest pointed to the soiled and blood-stained garment with a gesture of loathing. " It is not lawful for a priest to defile himself as thou hast done," he said coldly ; "thou canst come no more into the temple till thou art cleansed. Turn to the right hand and walk fifty paces; thou wilt then perceive how thou shalt come out from this place. I need not say to thee, reveal to no man what thou hast discovered. Go." Checking with a frown the eager words which trembled on the lips of the Nazarite, he pointed with an unyielding finger in the direction which he had indicated. Forty paces, and Phannias found himself in total darkness ; but he went on blindly, eager to atone for his seeming fault. He began to count his steps aloud, " Forty -three — forty-four — forty-five — " an- other step and with a smothered cry he dropped downward into the blackness. Phannias' first impulse, after his fearful plunge into what appeared to his dazed senses a well or pit, ankle deep with foul-smelling water, v/as to OUT OF THE DEPTHS. "3 cry aloud for help. But when after repeated shouts the silence was broken by neither voice nor footstep, he was forced to the conclusion that he had been deliberately entrapped and abandoned, and that by a sworn servant of Jehovah. This thought was so appalling that for an instant it shut out all else from his mind. ** My God !" he groaned aloud, ** what have I found in the house of thy holiness in the space of a single day. Cowardice, theft, falsehood — murder!" With the words came a rush of fierce anger. He set his teeth hard. " I will not die in this hole like a rat in a trap !" he cried defiantly. " I will live ; I will avenge myself!" To obtain a foothold on the steep, slippery sides of the abyss into which he had fallen proved an utter impossibility ; after a long and exhausting effort he abandoned the idea of escape in that di- rection. As he groped about in the thick dark- ness, he presently discovered that by reaching out his arms it was possible to touch the slimy stones on either side ; while behind and in front his out- stretched hand encountered nothing. The pit was therefore narrow, and long * than it was wide. After a little he ventured to move forward a few paces ; the au' became perceptibly colder, and the strange, fetid odor grew almost unendurable. It occurred to him to reach up, and this time his exploring fingers met the stones of a low-Swung arch, scarce six inches above his head. Still noth- 8 ' :.d! m 114 TJIE CROSS TRKIMPIIAXT. I ii II ^ I '' H I in{^ impeded his progress ; he walked cautiously forward, his bare feet slipping from time to time in the colJ sHmy hquid which splashed about his ankles. After what seemed a long time, during which he steadily advanced, he was conscious that his feet were slipping more and more frequently. The passageway was ascending a sharp incline ; at the same time the walls suddenly contracted so that he was forced to bend nearly double. After a little he could only crawl on hands and knees, the foul current wetting his garments to the skin. "My God!" he murmured, "in what have I sinned that I must perish more horribly than a beast?" And now a strange thing happened ; the sluggish tide flowed past him with a sudden rush of warmth, and was gone ; at the same instant his despairing eyes caught a faint beam of light, shining like a star in the impenetrable darkness. Light meant life and safety. He redoubled his efforts, observ- ing with a sense of relief that the stones upon which he was now forced to crawl at full length were almost dry. Thank God, the light was near now ; it was almost overhead ! He raised his head eagerly to snuff the delicious air which blew freshly adown the passageway. Light ! Ah yes, it was there — the blessed light, and not in one place alone ; it filtered through a dozen small grated openings set crosswise in the stones of the archway overhead. OUT OF THE DErrm. "5 Turning about with the greatest difficulty — for the walls had now contracted to such dimensions that he could scarce force his body along, Phan- nias raised his head to one of these orifices. " Help !" he cried loudly, ** Help — for the love of God ! I am perishing in this place !" As if in answer to his cry a great chorus, soft- ened by unknown distance into unearthly sweet- ness, burst forth with that angel's song of faith : " Yea, though I walk through the vale of deep shadow — even the shadow of death, I shall not fear evil ; For thou art with me ; Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me !" ^et further away and more faintly, like the sound of long waves on the sand-strewn beach, came the responsive ** Allclujah 1" of a great congregation. Phannias stared wildly about his narrow prison. " Where am I ?'* he cried. His eyes fell upon his sodden garments ; they were dyed to the waist a dull, purplish red, as he remembered to have seen the garments of the wine-makers in the joyous vintage days. He touched them shudderingly, his brain reeling with the awful conviction which had forced itself upon him. "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life ; And I shall dwell in the house of Jehovah forever !" chanted the distant voices, as if in an ecstasy of --» III 1 1 \\ : ■■*. i !t fl6 y;//-; cnoss TRiuMPiiAyT. gratitude ; a clash of silver-tongued instruments answered them, mingled with great Amens. A sound of sonorous words of benediction spoken almost above his head roused the young priest from the apathy of despair into which he had fallen. He started up, and seized the nearest grating with both hands ; the golden bars yielded to his grasp hke wisps of straw. ** Help ! Help ! Help!" he shouted, and fell half fainting against the slimy stones of his prison. The priest who was officiating at the great altar of the temple started back with an ashen face ; then he bowed himself with an evil smile. " Thanks be to Jehovah that the lot fell upon no other than myself for this service !" he murmured. Advancing to the front of the altar before the startled congregation, he lifted his arms toward heaven with a gesture of awe and adoration. " A miracle, sons of Abraham !" he cried. "Behold a voice from under the holy altar at the time of the third sprinkling ; and it cried, saying, Help ! What then can this portend, save that Jehovah will gra- ciously vouchsafe the help of his arm to save his afflicted people !" He paused, and the wondering assembly, to a man, leaned forward breathless to listen. The faint cry was presently repeated, proceeding it seemed from the very depths of the altar, where the ashes of the evening sacrifice yet smoked dully. OUT or THE DErvus. i»7 'Help!" wailed the mysterious voice, *• in the name of Jehovah of hosts ! I Lip ! — I lelp !" With a wild cry of mingled terror and joy the people fell upon their faces. Centuries had elapsed with neither voice nor sign ; but now surely the God of Hosts had proven that Israel was not for- l^otten. The officiating priest motioned authoritatively to the Levites, and the closing chant burst forth, blent with the silver blare of trumpets ; in the midst of which, according to prescribed custom, the won- dering people slowly dispersed. An hour later, as the priest passed slowly along the corridor leading from the Mall of Robes, he was accosted by one of the chiefs of the Levites. ** A pretty diversion thou didst graciously fur- nish for the people to-night, my Pharez ; but it will fail of its purpose. They are swarming before Antonia like angry bees. Blood will :low before morning, and in streams which will wipe out the memory of the lost treasure." The priest stopped short with a scjwl. **A pretty diversion, sayst thou ?" he said angrily. " I swear to you that what I said to the people was true. Didst thou not hear the voice ?" '* Ay, truly, I heard it — all who were fitly fur- nished with ears heard it also. But now — betwixt who arranged the matter ? Our reverc^l high us priest is more daring than his fellows if he would meddle for political purposes with the high altar. •W, M h: « ;,i'i h m I %\ :m . I -'* .tt: Ii8 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. tU .i li: li; ! ,'l For myself I fear nothing — not even the Holy- Place, since I helped repair the great veil ; but the altar!" " Canst thou not see that I am absorbed in prayer?" said Pharez coldly; "I may not speak with thee further." The Levite turned away with a shrug, while the priest, after watching his retreating figure till it was well out of sight, unlocked a small door to the right of the corridor. ** I must see if he be there still," he muttered. Arrived at the place of sacrifice by a secret pas- sageway known only to the priests, he sought care- fully for the broken grating in the conduit for the sacrificial blood which surrounded the great altar. " Art thou there, Nazarite ?" he whispered loudly, applying his mouth to the spot, which he had found with ease. He repeated the ques''on thrice, and at every opening which communicated with the sub- terranean drain below, but when there was neither sound nor motion, he straightened himself " He is already dead," he muttered, with a sigh of relief. IN THE NEW OF THE MOON. 119 CHAPTER XIII. IN THE NEW OF THE MOON. ON a certain narrow and tortuous street of Jerusalem, in that part of the city called indifferently the inner Low Town and the Agra, there once stood an ancient and shabby house. This house was by no means remarkable in its appearance, squeezed in as it was in the midst of a long row of buildings every one of which was quite as shabby and as ancient as itself. The up- per stories of all of these dwellings leaned tipsily forward as if to hobnob with their venerable neigh- bors on the opposite side of the street ; indeed, so close was their intimacy that the red eye of the sun seldom looked upon the yellow dust mingled with evil smelling refuse which paved the street level. The Agra itself was nothing more nor less than a bewildering labyrinth of these same gloomy and crooked streets, so densely inhabited that the flat roofs of the squat houses formed, as it were, a second and airier thoroughfare on which it was possible to walk from the Broad Wall to the Tem- ple Mount. From the frowning battlements of Antonia the Roman guard, pacing ceaselessly to ;M r^ h 1 1 'i' i. ! 1 i!i I20 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. and fro, commanded alike the spacious courts of the temple and the swarming streets of the Low Town. The dominant Gentile looked down upon both with the fine indifference of one who surveys an ant hill at his feet, which he may or may not crush into nothingness as the whim seizes him. The inhabitants of the Agra, immersed in busi- ness, in politics, or in a stringent observance of laws and customs, paused long enough from time to time to breathe a comprehensive curse upon all Gentiles ; but in the main they were too much occupied with their own affairs to waste time or breath upon the inevitable. Rome had become the inevitable. Ezra Ben Ethan, owner of the ancient and shabby dwelling already mentioned, stood upon the roof of his house at the hour of sunset en- gaged in prayer. He was a small, yellow, sour- looking Jew, chiefly furnished as to countenance with a pair of ferret eyes and a rusty irregular beai'l, which scantily clothed his prominent chin, and over which presided a hooked nose apparently many sizes too large for his pursed-up mouth. Praying, according to law, with his face turned toward the temple, he found himself unpleasantly dazzled by the sparks of splendor which the setting sun struck from the slow-moving shields and hel- mets on the walls of Antonia. Whereat, having at his command a period of leisure and a rich va- riety of defamatory phrases, derived about equally IN THE NEW OF THE MOON. X2I from a devout study of the denunciatory Psalms and a residence of some fifty years in the Agra, Ben Ethan proceeded to launch a series of anathe- mas at the offending soldiers, coupled with im- passioned petitions to Jehovah for their general undoing. "How long, O Lord!" he demanded shrilly, •' how long shall yonder idolatrous Gentiles stand upon the bulwarks of Jerusalem ? How long shall they go to and fro upon the walls of Zion ? Let them be torn limb from limb ! Let them be cast in heaps in the valley, where there shall be none to bury them ! Let their tongues dry up betwixt their teeth, and let the young ravens pluck out their eyes to devour them ! Bring down their lying looks unto the dust, O Lord 1 Give their rulers to Israel for a prey 1 Smite them with the sword ; send mur- rain and pestilence upon them ! Scorch them with the sun of thy heavens ; drown them in the floods of thy deep ! Cause wild beasts to devour them ; let their bones rot wdthin their flesh ; and let — What now, Merodah ? Canst thou not leave me alone, girl, whilst I pray for the peace of Jerusalem ?" The intruder — a maid of perhaps fifteen years, and delicately lovely as a half-opened flower — bent her head meekly. " I pray thee of thy goodness that thou wilt pardon me, my father," she said ; ** I did not know that thou wast still at prayer. But it is true that one waits below who would speak with thee on a matter of importance." m > , :' it h*'^ 122 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. ii! jlji 1 11 -ii liji " 'Twill be Simon, the publican, for the taxes," snarled Ben Ethan, wagging his beard ; " but I will not pay him — I have sworn that I will not pay — until the feast of weeks." ** It is not Simon," said the girl slowly; **the man is a stranger. I think" — she continued, with a pretty air of sagacity — ** that he wishes to hire our upper room." Ben Ethan did not wait to hear more. His upper room had been unlet for more than two months already ; he wished to hire it even more than he wished to pray. Having presently satis- fied himself by a noiseless inspection through the peephole over his courtyard stair that the man who still waited in the street was not the despised col- lector of taxes, he flung wide the door. " I pray thee, worshipful stranger, that thou wilt honor my poor abode by stepping over its threshold." And he bowed himself before the man who stood with- out. " How is it that I, the son of Ethan, may serve thee?" The stranger acknowledged the salutation with a grave, "Peace be with thee and with thy house." He stepped as he spoke into the courtyard and closed the door behind him. " I am told," he said, casting a pair of singularly bright dark eyes about the place, *' that there is in this house an upper chamber of fair size, with an outside staircase leading to the street in the rear, and that this chamber may be hired for a reasonable sum ; am I rightly informed?" IN THE NEW OF THE MOON. laj " An upper chamber indeed, spacious beyond one's belief, honored sir," repHed Ben r^than with a comprehensive wave of the hand. He was ob- serving with displeasure that his would-be tenant displayed no signs of opulence in his dress, and that the pouch at his girdle was unpromisingly lean. " It is true that it may be hired — yes, and for a sum — Pst, it is nothing ! To the right party — thou mayst understand without offense ; for my- self I am a keeper of the law ; I also " ** Show me the room," interrupted the stranger, but without rudeness ; " it will save us both mo- ments which have a value beyond gold." Ben Ethan looked hard at his visitor. "A value beyond gold," he repeated tentatively ; ** ah, yes, assuredly ! Thou art, perchance, a merchant, seeking gain in Jerusalem. If it be a place wherein to bestow thy goods in safety, I can promise thee — But come this way, thou shalt see for thyself." " I am not a merchant," said the stranger tran- quilly, as the two men ascended the stair; **nor have I goods to bestow here or elsewhere. I will tell thee plainly the room is wanted for a meeting- place by certain godly persons, known in Jerusalem as Nazarenes, in divers other places as Christians." Ben Ethan stopped short for an instant. " Naza- renes !" he muttered under his breath. " Now may the God of Abraham smite me if I let my room to such. — But hold, I have said nothing. This is the (! I • r- Nf , y.,...:-,,^™,,, 124 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. ■ \ 1 iiji •:: ;i|i I, I'.ii 1- ,; ! .:'■ 1 ■ ■ ■ chamber, good sir," he said aloud; "and a more commodious, for the money, cannot be found with- in the walls of Jerusalem. What sayest thou ?" The other looked about him with a well-satisfied air. The room was indeed of sufficient size to ac- commodate quite a company ; it was moreover scrupulously clean, and lighted by a large latticed window which overhung the street. " The place will serve our purpose," he said. " It is under- stood that we shall be undisturbed in our worship," — fixing his keen dark eyes upon Ben Ethan — " to which thou and thy household will be welcome." Ben Ethan shrugged his shoulders and spread abroad his palms. " What with the required at- tendance at the temple — to make nothing of holy days and feast days and fasts and sabbaths and new moons, there be scarce hours left in the which an honest man may gain his bread. No manna drops from heaven in these hard times, and the Romans devour the land. — Not that I grudge the Almighty his dues," he added, with an obeisance ten. pie- ward ; " but to worship a dead man — however righteous he may have been in his lifetime ! now, that appears to me a strange thing to ask of a law- abiding Jew ; is it not so ?" The stranger's eye kindled. " Jesus of Naza- reth was the Messiah of Israel," he declared sol- emnly. ** Nay, more, he was the Saviour of the world !" Ben Ethan wagged his head. " A Messiah spit IN THE NEW OF THE MOON. "5 upon !" he cried shrilly. *• A Messiah scourged ! A Messiah crucified ! — Nay, I myself saw it, youn<^ man, a matter of thirty years ago ! But no, we will not speak further of the matter ; it pleases thee to believe in this man — this carpenter of Galilee, crucified, dead and buried ; it pleases me to look for a king who shall deliver Israel from the hand of the Gentiles, and that right gloriously. We will not quarrel. Thou shalt have my upper room for the sum specified ; as for myself, I am a poor man, the hire will pay my taxes — for heaven bear me witness, I knew not whence the money was to come !" When half an hour later Ben Ethan returned to the roof, he found his daughter perched upon the highest ledge of the parapet. " Oh father," she cried eagerly, without turning her head, "it is com- ing — I am sure it is coming ! See, just behind the hill yonder, there is a glow ! Yes, truly," — and the girl clapped her hands ecstatically, " it is the holy — the blessed new moon !" "Veil of the temple !" ejaculated Ben Ethan, "it is a good omen — a good omen ! The Nazarenc and the new moon in one night !" He burst into a cackling laugh, abruptly suppressed as he climbed nimbly up beside the girl. " I see no moon !" he cried testily, straining his wrinkled eyelids toward the western horizon. "But yes, dear father," cooed Merodalf, laying her slim hand soothingly on his shoulder ; "its H: \'}W:i 1 '-.i i! !>• ^ 'pi 'ml 126 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. slender tip pierces yonder cluster of palms like a silver arrow. I see it (juite plainly." " Then I shall ^o to the temple," said Ren Ethan decidedly ; " no need to lose a feast. God grant that I get there in due season ! I missed it last month by a haiv's breadth." Left to herself the girl softly repeated the bene- dictions to the new moon, her eyes fastened upon the slender crescent which now hung like a flaming sickle over the brow of Olivet : " Blessed be he who reneweth the months ! Blessed be he by whose word the heavens were created, And by the breath of whose mouth all the hosts thereof were formed ! He appointeth them a law and a season, that they should not overstep their course ! They rejoice and are glad to perform the will of their Creator ! Author of truth, thy goings are truth ! He hath spoken to the moon : Be thou renewed and be the beautiful diadem of Israel — Who shall herself be quickened again, like to the moon ! And praise Jehovah for his glorious kingdom ! Amen and amen !" The girl felt very happy when she had finished repeating this prayer ; for did not the rabbis declare that whoso sayeth the benediction of the new moon in its proper time is as one who holds converse with the shining presence of the Godhead ? She sat for a long time in the fragrant cool of the evening, her face turned upward to the heavens like a flower, innocent and full of peace. ii'i'i'i IN THE NEW OF THE MOON. 127 As for that excellent and law-abiding Israelite, Ben Ethan, he was makin<; his way with all possi- ble speed toward the temple, where in a certain court, called Beth Jazek, a feast was provided every month for the devout witnesses of the new moon. The spiritual rulers of the nation had ordained that beside the specially appointed messengers of the Sanhedrim, who were set to watch the sky from commanding heights in and about the city, any person — gamblers with dice, usurers, traders in the produce of the Sabbatical year, women and slaves excepted — was permitted to give evidence of the blessed appearance of the new moon. And not only permitted, but urged — nay, enticed by po- tent inducements in the shape of divers meats and drinks, provided for the occasion by the temple au- thorities. It may be believed therefore that a great concourse of the pious, who were also blessed with good appetites, assembled on such occasions before the gates of Beth Jazek. Indeed so great was the eagerness to perform this act of service that of late years it had become necessary to close the gate after a certain number of witnesses had been admitted. Ben Ethan licked his lips hungrily as he scuttled along through street and alley toward the temple mount. " Jehovah grant that the gates remain wide till I reach them !" he ejaculated. " It will save me a meal ; also, with his blessing, I shall be able to fetch away under my garment enough victual for to-morrow," <). iV. 'J I i i \ ' i if:'.. Mil 4] f ' I . 128 ruK cnuss TRiuMriiAsr. By way of further propitiating an observant deity, he repeated tlie benedictions to the new moon, addin<; with a hasty obeisance: "A good sign, good fortune be to all Israel ! IMesscd be thy Creator ! lilessed be thy Possessor ! Blessed be thy Maker ! As I leap toward thee, but cannot touch thee, so may my enemies be unable to injure me ! May fear and anguish seize upon them ! Through the greatness of thine arm may they be- come as still as a stone. Fear and anguish shall seize them ! Amen ! Selah ! Hallelujah ! Peace — peace — peace be with thee !" Arrived at the temple, Ben Ethan, with the dex- terity born of long practice, proceeded to force his way through the eager multitude already assembled before Beth Jazek. Being small of stature he could dodge and double, twist and turn with extra- ordinar ' ease and agility ; also he knew to a nicety just how and when to apply a prod of the elbow, a sly kick in the calves, or a grind of the sandal heel on unprotected toes. He was therefore en- abled to squeeze his lean person triumphantly ir.- side the gates just as they were closing, his victory over adverse circumstances and the crowd of dis- appointed faces without only serving to whet his enjoyment. A perfunctory examination of certain of the wit- nesses having confirmed the fact of the reappear- ance of the moon, already reported by the official messengers, the chief of the Sanhedrim pronounced ill! /A '/•///.; AVv'ir OF Till': MOOS, 129 the solemn word : " It is sanctified !" Whereupon all the witnesses, the priests and the Levites cried aloud : " It is sanctified !" "Alas — alas !" shrilled a strident voice. "Alas for Jerusalem ! What profiteth the blessed coming of the new moon ? What profiteth joyous feast or solemn fast, when the holy temple is defiled with the iniquitous feet of Gentiles, and its treasure is seized by bloody and violent men ! Sons of Abra- ham, the procurator, Florus, hath seized seventeen talents from the temple treasury !" At this word a tumult indescribable broke out. Cries, questionings, curses, wailing, in the midst of which the excited multitude burst out of Beth Jazek and rushed away to the Court of Israel, un- mindful of the hcaped-up viands which they tram- pled under foot in their mad haste. Ben Ethan lingered behind to stow away beneath his abba sundry savory morsels which had escaped the gen- eral destruction. " Veil of the temple !" he muttered, " if the times be evil the more need to look to one's victual !" |i ;rfv |! ■ I , JO THE CROSS TIlir^IPKA ^T CHAPTER XIV. A SINC.KR OK HYMNS. THE Christian — who was known as Rufus, after completing his bargain with Ben Ethar for the hire of the upper room, went quickly away, with the air of one well satisfied. He too beheld the slender horn of the new moon swimming in the dusky glow over Olivet, but he neither bowed him- self nor uttered the words of the ancient liturgy. As he passed a group of Pharisees standing upon the corner of a street mouthing their prayers and gesticulating extravagantly after their custom, cer- tain ominous words, which he had read that day from the scroll of the prophets, rushed to his lips. " Hear the word of the Lord, ye rulers of an evil generation ! Iking no more vain oolations ; in- cense is an abomination unto me ; the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies I will do away ; it is iniquity — even the solemn meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth. When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you ; yea, when ye make many prayers I will not hear. Your hands are full of blood !" The young man lifted his eyes to the stately A SryCKR OF /f 1 MAA'.V. lit mass of the temple buildings which towered above the city in solemn {.jr.indeur, and above which floated the trailing smoke of the altar fires. "What must l)e the end of it all ?" lie mused. *• I low shall we, who believe in the crucified Christ, have fel- lowship with them who slew our Lord — who would also destroy us, body and soul?" These questions were bein^; asked by more than one follower of the risen Jesus. They were answered in diverse fashion. Certain in Jerusalem who be- lieved were of the strictest sect of the Pharisees ; keepers of the law, loving the ritual of the temple, its sacrificial rites, its feasts and fast days; adhering rigidly to all the endless minuticU which scribe and rabbi had laboriously fashioned from tiic Levitical laws. " The Messiah has come !" cried these believers in the meek and lowly carpenter of Nazareth ; " keep yc the law of Moses ! Jesus is the Messiah of Israel ; therefore become Jews !" These Pharisaical Christians busied themselves devoutly in vain attempts to patch the yawning rents in the robe of Judaism with the strong new cloth of the kingdom. They traveled into far countries, visiting the scattered handfuls of believ- ers who had been wrested from heathen darkness by the labors of a Paul or a Barnabas. **Thc men who have taught you are grievously mistaken," they declared ; "ye cannot be saved except yc keep the law of Moses." Whereat the converts, rejoic- ■ 1 1 t <■* 'Rifli'^ • . |':j j^ M* il ( i ' i .■ «-^ 1 -:v;t M4J fff ■ ■»■ "" H ■ 132 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. ing in the beautiful simplicity of the new faith, fell straiLjhtway into doubt and anguish of mind. Other eyes there were which saw with a clearer vision ; other voices, crying out a far different mes- sage. '• Old things have passed away ; behold all things arc become new ! Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved ! It is not possible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin ; but this Jesus, after he had offered one sacri- fice for sins forever, is set down on the right hand of God !" Rufus was a Jewish proselyte ; he was also a convert to the faith of Christ ; but in Jerusalem he had been forced constantly to remember the first of these two facts. Therefore it was that he sighed deeply, as he beheld the smoke of the evening sac- rifice rising into the solemn heavens like a ghost of the dead. As the young man hastily threaded the narrow streets, emerging now and again into the wider market squares, he observed that these places were unusually full of people ; and that here and there single voices raised in excited harangue sounded above the loud hum of the crowd. These voices were not discoursing upon the appearance of the new moon, but of some outrage perpetrated by the lawless Roman, Florus, under whose rule unhappy Jerusalem had writhed for more than a year. Rufus would have gone his way without paying further heed to the matter which for the moment A SIXGER OF HYMNS. ^33 agitated the popular mind ; tumults v/ere common occurrences in the crowded Agra, as he was well aware. A detachment of Roman soldiers would, in all likelihood, shortly appear on the scene ; arrests would follow, likewise scourgings, for which pur- pose a peaceable Greek would answer quite as well as a turbulent Jew. He frowned impatiently as the eddying crowd forced him back against the stall of a fruit-vender. The merchant leaned forward and plucked him by the sleeve. ** Hast thou come from Antonia?" he asked ex- citedly; then without waiting for an answer, "They threaten to pull the castle about the ears of the thieving Gentile unless he restores the treasure. Sacred fire ! but I believe every man, woman and child in the Agra — ay, and in the whole city — is on the move ! The Roman may repent him of his folly." "To seize the treasure was an outrage," said the young Greek tranquilly ; " but the people will gain nothing for themselves by making a tumult." ** A murrain on thee for an unwashed Gentile !" cried a strident voice close to his ear. " The day has come to throw off the Roman yoke ! Blood ! Blood ! The time is ripe for blood !" The speaker — by the token of his cap and apron an apprentice in the shop of the baker hard by — clambered nimbly to the top of the stall still beliowing, " Blood — blood !" with all the strength of his lungs. "Offspring of a mule !" cried the fruit-vender in ii i,3'i "1:1 ; ' It !Ji| i , « ■>.% 1 \ ; I 1 1 1 :'itl; 134 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. a rage. " Wilt thou ruin my trade with thy bray- ing ? Get thee down from my stall, or blood will flow of a surety ! — Here, you Gentile, help me catch the knave and I will reward thee !" But Rufus was already beyond hearing. He reached tlie nearest gate without further incident ; passed through, and was presently making his way into the deep shadows of the valley of Jehoshaphat. Here the dull roar of the rapidly incrv^asing mob about Antonia was swallowed up and lost in the large calm of the summer night. Out of the cool, green depths rose the hoarj/- walls of the city, builded of "goodly stones," "compact together" with tears and prayers and blood ; crowned with the temple as with a diadem. On the further side of the valley lay the Mount of Olives, ascending in gentle slopes and terraces, clothed almost to its summit with gardens and orchards. Rufus could already distinguish a twinkling star of light amid the clustered olive trees, which revealed the where- abouts of the tiny whitewashed hut which he called home. The young Greek was a vine -dresser ; he was also, like many of his countrymen, something of a poet. As he tranquilly pursued his way along the narrow road which skirted the city wall, the beauty of the rosy evening sky and the calm and peace of the ^n'een valley filled him with happiness. He there* bre lifted up his voice, which was both sweet and far reaching, and began to sing, or rather A SINGER OF HY3TNS. 135 chant, the words of a hymn which he had him- self composed, and which was already well loved by the Christians of Jerusalem : "Jesus — Christ, glad Light of the Highest! Light of the Father, radiant, holy ! While the night spreads its dim mantle o'er us, We worship the light which hath shined — Which hath shined in the darkness ! Praise to thee, Father ! Praise to thee, Jesus ! Worthy art thou to be praised of the holiest, Now and forever ; all days and eternally. Beloved of God, v.ho givest us life !"* As the last words fell from the lips of the singer, he stopped short and listened attentively. He thought that a voice had called to him from above. Looking cautiously about among the shrubs and bushes which thrust themselves over his path out of the gathering darkness, he wrapped his abba more closely about his shoulder and hurried on ; reflecting, not without a sense of discomfort, on tlic fact that the country had of late been plagued by wandering bands of robbers, who made no more of the life of a wayfarer than of a draught of sour wine. Again he came to a standstill ; the sound was repeated, more faintly this time, but unmistakably the cry of a human being in deep distress. * An evening hymn by an unknown author ; it. was in use among Christians of the fourth century, and is described by a writer of that day (Basil) os " very ancient, handed dov/n from the fathers." It is the oldest hymn known. The above is a free rendering, after Dr. J. Pye Smith, i.irH 'I ;: '• M.::?* I i >"f 136 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. " Where art thou ?" cried the vine-dresser, turn- ing his startled face toward the sky. " Here !" came the answer. " In the wall !" Rufus climbed the steep bank, staring blankly at the hoary mountain of the temple wall, which at this point struck its giant roots deep into the lap of the valley. " Call once again, that I may find you !" '* Here — here !" groaned the mysterious voice. " Help quickly, I am dying of thirst !" " Merciful Diana !" ejaculated the startled Greek, lapsing into the vernacular of his native Athens ; ** how came you there ? And how, in heaven's name, am I to get you out ?" His only answer was a hollow groaning sound which seemed at first to proceed from the solid wall ; but which, upon further investigation, was found to issue from a triangular grated opening set deep in the stones. This grating covered a space scarce large enough to admit the head and shoulders of a man ; beneath it the wall was deeply stained and discolored. •* Look you, my friend," cried Rufus in a loud, cheerful voice, albeit accompanied by a dubious shake of the head and an involuntary shudder; " these bars are too thick for one t . force with his naked hands. Here is my water-bottle and a loaf; eat, drink, and have courage ; thou wilt soon be re- leased." Though he spoke thus confidently he was by no means sure of the best course to pursue A SINGER OF HYMNS. 137 in the matter. Certain dark tales concerning the cruelty and treachery of the Jewish priests, current among his own nation, came back to his mind. For himself he had long ceased to believe these things ; yet he remembered them. Observing that his water-bottle had been drawn into the aperture, he again approached his mouth to the grating. "Who art thou?" he urged; "and how camest thou in the wall of the temple ?" The answer astonished him ; two large hands ap- peared out of the darkness ; they grasped the bars of the grating, which bent and wavered for an in- stant like ropes, then wrenched from their sockets fell with a clank to the stones below. Involuntarily Rufus drew back a pace, as a head covered with long matted hair was thrust out from the opening. Then he sprar -^ forward ; the head and trunk of a man had fallen limply outward. Grasping the hanging body just underneath the armpits, the Greek bent himself with a lusty effort, with the re- sult that both rescuer and rescued fell violently backward and rolled over and over down the steep bank into the roadway below. Rufus was the first to recover himself. In the dim light of the evening he perceived that the body which he had pulled out from the hole in the wall lay motionless upon its face just where it had fallen. IT He turned it over. " Merciful Diana !" he re- peated — then correcting himself with anxious haste, m-: VjVllft I": ' i Ijii;^!! 138 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. " Forgive, oh Crucified One — the man is, after all, dead." But Rufus was mistaken ; the man who had been thrice pronounced dead within the hours of a single day had only fainted after his frightful experience. He opened his eyes presently under the somewhat clumsy ministrations of his rescuer, and sighed deeply two or three times. "God!" he murmured, "the stars — the stars — not that horrible darkness — thank God ! Yes, I will do it — by the blood of the sacrifices — the blood — the blood." He shuddered and relapsed again into silence. Rufus bent over him anxiously. " Canst thou arise?" he asked ; " it is but a step from this place to a house where thou mayest find rest and re- freshment." Somewhat to his surprise the other rose slowly to his feet. " I will go with thee where thou wilt," he said gently ; " thou hast delivered my soul from death. But listen, and bear witness to the vow which in yonder place of blood I made to the God of Israel. I, Phannias, the son of Samuel, do sol- emnly declare that I will search out to know for myself all that may be known of one, Jesus of Nazareth, who lived and died within the memory of some who are yet upon earth. If it be true that he was the Messiah, I will humble myself before him, to love him and to follow him ; but if it ap- pear that these things which men do affirm of him A SINGER OF HYMNS. 139 be false, then will I rid Israel of the memory of the man ! Bear witness that I have said it." Rufus bent his head before the stranger, who towered above him in the half light, his face drawn and haggard, his white garments purple with the blood of uncounted sacrifices. "It is witnessed," he said slowly. » M.' ;f.t| hi V * . .--iii.jii.S'l f40 THE CBOSa TRIUMPHANT. i CHAPTER XV. A SIMPLE CREED. m I PHANNIAS spent three days in the hut o" lie vine-dresser ; during these days he said Httle and thought much. When one has sojourned in the valley of the shadow of death and emerged therefrom he sees henceforth with a clearer vision, whether the way be forward into the unknown country of blinding light, or along the sadder and darker ways of earth. The hours which he had passed in that horrible place of blood and darkness were as years, and as years they left their mark upon both soul and body. The Greek, comprehending something of all this with the facile sympathy of his race, asked no ques- tions of his guest, leaving him to the solitude which he so evidently craved. He had shrewdly guessed from the dress and general appearance of the stranger that he was both priest and Nazarite. For himself he had been sufficiently imbued with Jewish prejudices to regard both offices with veneration. "Shrine of Diana!" he muttered to himself, as he placidly dug his little patch of vineyard, " who knows but that this holy man will bring good for- tune to me and mine. — Now a murrain on my un- A SDIPLE CREED. 141 ruly tongue ! will I never forget the heathen gods ? Truly I must cleanse my ways or I shall yet perish with the ungodly !" Whereat this strange mixture of Greek supersti- tion, Jewish formalism and Christian faith, blended withal in a soul of adorable simplicity and child- like clarity, proceeded to wash his hands and his lips with Pharisaical zeal. "Beloved Jesus," he murmured, in the tone of one who addresses a near and familiar friend, " this stranger would learn of thee. Now thou art aware, Lord, that I am of small wit and less learning ; wilt thou therefore take this matter in hand for me. If the man will be useful to thee, it will be an easy matter to reveal to him the light which thou hast brought into the world ! For myself, I will do as thou shalt direct." And having thus laid the matter before his Master, he promptly dismissed any anxiety which might otherwise have troubled his mind. On the morning of the fourth day Phannias sought his host where he was at work in his gar- den. " I must return to Jerusalem," he said, star- ing abstractedly at the ground ; "I must return at once." '* Best bide where thou art for a time," said Rufus, surveying his guest with honest admiration. The days of quiet had completely removed all traces of the young Nazarite's frightful expedience ; and now clad in the spotless garments of the novi- tiate — garments cleansed and whitened by his own - 1 u jB-j V' !;m .■!';f. 'li h ■A'' r ;1 'ji>' ■,!..ht'<- I4« THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. hospitable Iiands, it appeared to Rufus that his guest was more beautiful than a Greek god. Truly, it miglit be that there were no gods ; but their marble images, shining like snow in the blue air of Athens, were still beloved in memory. "Best bide where thou art," he repeated ; " there is tumult and slaughter in Jerusalem. Here thou art safe." Phannias started violently. " Tumult and slaugh- ter ! But why " The Greek shrugged his shoulders. " There is always tumult," he said, showing his white ceeth in a cheerful smile. *' The Jews are never more con- tent than when shouting and rending the garment. — A strange custom and costly, eh ? — the rending of the garment. But this time there is also much more, alas ! A frightful catastrophe, in fact. The noble Florus took to himself seventeen talents of sacred money from the temple coffers — An outrage? Yes ; he should smart for it, were I Caesar. And when, after their custom, the people beat upon the breast, tore the garment, and cast of the dust and stones of the street against the gate of the castle, — and truly what harm in all this? — the noble Florus should have indulged them. But no ; this so savage and implacable a Roman sends down into the crowd soldiers with drawn swords, who shortly disperse the multitude, leaving many dead upon the ground both of women and men." Phannias leaned forward breathlessly. "And the temple — " he urged ; " is the temple safe ?" A SIMPLE CRI':i:i). 143 The Greek made a rapid gesture, expressive of wonderment and resignation. " The temple is so far safe," he said gravely; "but there is talk of that which threatens the whole nation. The peo- ple have arisen and swear that they will avenge their treasure and their dead. Sacred Apollo ! but there can be but one end to it all. Rome is the hand of iron ; Jerusalem the eggshell. What can happen, I ask you ?" " I must go into the city at once," repeated Phannias, with decision. *' And you, my friend — you are not of our nation, I perceive ; yet to you I owe my life !" " Do not let that trouble you, holy Nazarite," said Rufus apologetically. ** I am a Greek by birth it is true ; but I am a Jew as well, and keep the law as I am able. I am also a Christian," he added with simplicity. •* A Christian ?" repeated Phannias. " I believe that the Jew, Jesus of Nazareth, was the Christ, sent by the true and only God to save men from their sins ; and that he will give to them II life beyond this life, which shall endure forever." Rufus recited this, his simple creed, with a joyful enthusiasm which did not escape the wondering eye of the Nazarite. Phannias was profoundly disturbed by the terri- ble intelligence which he had just received, but he also rem.embered his vow. *' Why dost thou be- lieve that Jesus of Nazareth was sent by God?" he 'I M ' ;]r M4 Till': CROSS Till UMrn ANT. asked harshly. " Did not the man perish on the cross ? And does not tlie law teach that the fruit of the tree is accursed ?" •' Truly I am not wise in matters of your law," said the Greek humbly ; " but this, I know, there is no peace for him that hath sinned, either in the faith of Greece — for a god of marble cannot for- give ; nor yet in the temple of the Jews. What man is there among you who are learned, I ask, who hath kept your law in the sight of God? And for us who are ignorant, what hope is there ? Hut this Jesus was a man, as I myself; he can there- fore pity, now that he lives in the heavens. He has given me peace here." And the speaker laid his hand upon his breast. " I declare to you that formerly I was of all men most unhappy. I had ceased to believe in the gods of Olympus ; the God of Israel terrified me — a Gentile. But Jesus of Nazareth, I love — I adore ! I am happy — I shall always be happy. In the flesh I may trust him — even for what I eat and wear. Yes, truly ; is it not wonderful ? He is with us always, so that if even I — a Gentile and unlearned, as you see — but whisper to him, he hears me and gives at once what I ask. You do not believe me — no ; but it is quite — quite true !" Phannias looked with amazement at the shining eyes and eloquent face of this Gentile, who spoke in so strange a fashion of a Jew, who had already been dead for a generation. A SIMPLE CREED. 145 " But thou hast not even seen the man !" he said at length with a frown of incredulity ; *• he has been dead these many years. How is it possible to love a dead man, and a stranger ? My father is dead ; I would fain love him, but can one love a story — a shadow — a something which does not exist ? How is it possible ? Thou art beside thyself, Greek !" Rufus shook his head. " I am not mad, holy Nazarite," he said quietly. " I have already said to you that Jesus of Nazareth is not dead ; he arose from his tomb on the third day after his cru- cifixion and became alive again. Thou dost not believe this? No; but it is more true than any word of all the law of Moses. Speak for yourself, friend, to this Jesus, who was dead and is alive again ; he will himself reveal to thee the truth so that thou canst not gainsay it." " Dost thou mean that / should pray to this man?" cried Phannias ; "this man who was con- demned and crucified as a false prophet ? Nay, was he not so convicted ; and of foul blasphemy also, in presence of the wisest and holiest of Israel !" " Do priests make no mistakes, then ?" returned Rufus shrewdly. ** I have asked thee no questions ; but tell me how camest thou, who art also a priest, to be perishing in the wall of the temple?" Phannias covered his face with his hand^ ; and Rufus, perceiving that his word had smitten, con- tinued. " Thou hast vowed in my hearing — and I lO I ! * ■ I 1 * »!' f ■' I ' n * 146 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. also have witnessed the same, that thou wilt look to the claims of this crucified Jesus. I declare to thee that he is alive and can hear thy voice, and that he will reveal himself to thee if thou wilt but see him !" In his earnestness the Greek ventured to lay his hand upon the shoulder of his guest. The Tew drew back, all the ingrained pride of race leaping to his eyes. ** I have sworn that I v/ill investigate this matter," he said coldly ; " I shall keep my vow ; but I will pray only to Jeho- vah, than whom there is no other God in heaven or on earth." "There is a short way and an easy into the kingdom," said the Gr*-ek sorrowfully; "there is also a way that is long and hard. Thou hast chosen, and no other may choose for thee. Pray to Jehovah that thou mayst find the truth,. I also viii pray for thee." He added the last words with Ihe confidence of one who possesses royal resources upon which he may draw at will. Phannias regarded the vine-dresser long and steadfastly. " My friend," he said at length, " I perceive that thou art true and sincere in thy belief; more than this I cannot say. For what thou hast done in my behalf — and for what thou hast prom- ised, thou hast my gratitude. I have nothing more to give thee now ; but perhaps in the future — nay, who knows." He broke off abruptly, and with no other word of farewell was gone. Rufus looked after the tall, w^hite figure wistfully. ^■:K •ii '■. A SIMPLE CREED. 147 " Thou wilt go with him, my Jesus," he murmured aloud. Then his face cleared as he broke into the swinging chant of his hymn : " We worship the light which hath shined — Which hath shined in the darkness ! Praise to thee. Father ! Praise to thee, Jesus ! Worthy art thou to be praised of the hohest, Now and forever, on all days and eternally, Beloved of God, who givest us life!" \V 3, ^^ri If jHl; lit ^ ■ ' 'i h*. iLlL'litiikJ i r^ps ''1'i»«« 148 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. I • CHAPTER XVI. WITH THE CHIEFS OF THE NATION. IN the palace of the high priest there was no decorous feast in progress, as was the custom on most days of the year. Jesus IV. and half a score of others of the high-priestly family were in- deed assembled in one of the lofty rooms of the palace ; but the faces of all were grave and stern, and the wine and sweetmeats, circulated amongst them by velvet-footed servants were allowed to pass untasted. " It were perhaps well to proclaim a solemn fast," said Ananus, who had but lately been de- posed from the sacred office, and who yet in reality wielded the scant authority left to the chiefs of the Jewish nation. " A fast will at least serve to keep the people off the streets and market places." "It is too late for that," said the high priest gloomily ; "the people are mad for blood." " The facts are appalling enough," pursued An- anus with decision, " but they must be faced, and wisdom must prevail against madness. Look you, the Romans have slain some three thousand people ; but who and what are these people ? Jews princi- pally, but all of the poorer classes — ^the malcon- WITH THE CHIEFS OF THE NATION. 149 tents ; 'twill prove merely a wholesome lesson if we can control the situation for the space of a month. Thii people must be forced to submit to Roman authority ; for on that authority rests the peace of Israel and our own prosperity. This wild talk of throwing off the Roman yoke is folly — madness. Nay, 'twere as though the seamen on a foundering ship were to cut away and cast off the undergirding, which alone holds together the shat- tered timbers of their vessel. This insurrection might be laid to the doors of the Nazarenes ; by so doing we should ourselves escape punishment, and perchance rid the nation of a foul and blasphemous brood." Ananus cast his shrewd eyes about the circle of gloomy faces and continued. " Our gracious em- peror, Nero, it is said, hates and fears the Jews ; but h^ hates and fears the Christians — as the Gen- tiles are pleased to call the Nazarenes — even more. He has already slain three thousand of them in Rome, including the pestilent Saul, aforetime a Pharisee and member of the Sanhedrim ; also one, Peter, a Galilean, who once wrought untold mis- chief in our midst. As I have said, this tumult must be referred to the Nazarenes; I will myself look to it. In the meantime, the people must be held in check. Better lose fifty talents from the temple treasure than to gain the wrath of Rome." Jesus moved uneasily in his chair. " I sent an embassy to Florus this morning at the third hu'j^. (1 i Itk jVapl' 158 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. presently in the market place, she was amazed to find it empty ; as for the poultcrL'r's stall, it was quite overturned, and the vegetables and birds lay all about in sodden shapeless heaps, as though they had been trodden underfoot of beasts of burden. The round, cheerful face of Hidcar, the poulterer, was nowhere to be seen. But what was it that protruded from under the broken timbers of the stall ? — the hand and arm of a man, partly covered with striped drapery ! Manifestly some frightful accident had befallen the good poulterer ; his stall had fallen upon him ; he was hurt — perhaps dying. She must fetch help. There were people in the square below ; she could hear them shouting. In another moment the mob had seized upon this human atom, as the mad current of a swollen river seizes the leaf which drops from an overhanging bough and whirls it away on its wild errand. Mc- rodah — frightened — breathless — found herself all against her will in the midst of a seething, perspiring mass of men, women and children, above which hung a sullen cloud of red dust, pierced by beast- like cries, curses, groans, imprecations. This mass of people, as one creature, vast, mysterious, swayed by an unknown will, moved steadily forward. Merodah looked wildly about her, conscious only of a desire to escape ; the veil had fallen away from her face, revealing the flower-like tints of cheek and neck and her dark eyes, bright as those of a frightened child. "Father!" she cried piteously, MERODAH. »59 only from :heek of a )usly, *' Father !" — not knowing that she had uttered a sound. A man clad in the leathern jerkin and helmet of a soldier and carrying a short crooked sword in his hand turned with an oath ; then stopped short. •' Wilt thou also pull down the cloisters, little one ?" he asked, fallin-.')' '^,1 16S THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. musically. " Ah, Timones, thou art a sad flatterer !" she said, looking up from under her long lashes. " But perhaps thou art right about the priest. Let him go at once. — Ah, but stay," and she fixed her bright eyes full upon Phannias. " Is it true, priest, that thou dost also play the Nazarite?" '* I am a Nrzarite fo. life, princess," replied the young .r.xn, \* ii<) ind oeen awaiting the result of the conferer e vAih \1 1 -concealed impatience. "May I remind your highness uat my errand with Florus is an urgent one. I would fain be allowed to de- part without further delay." '• Hast thou then displeasured the high priest that he sends thee to Florus, — alone and unat- tended ?" asked the princess. " I am told that the amiable procurator hath of late amused his leisure by crucifj'ing every Jew who hath fallen into his hands." " Nevertheless I must go^and at once," said Phannias firmly. ** But thou art too young to be crucified — and, yes, too beautiful," murmured the princess, drop- ping her lids with a sigh ! Then she clapped her exquisite rose-tinted palms together with the aban- don of a child. " I will go with thee !" she cried out. " Am I not also a Nazarite ? I will myself plead for the people ! The Roman can never say me nay. Then all this unpleasant blood and tumult will be done away with — truly I can bear it no longer ! — No, I will hear no word from thee, Ti- MERODAIL 169 mones ! Am I not my own mistress ? I will wear a robe of purest white, with my hair unbound and streaming to its hem, and — yes, my feet unsandaled. Come — come, we will go at once l" ^1 : rj: M 170 mi: CliUSS THWMPUAHV. CHAPTER XVIII. A RULER OF JERUSALEM. GESSIUS FLORUS, procurator of Judaea, was a just product of his time ; an ex -slave and hanger-on at the court of Nero, he had obtained his present position as a reward for a series of un- paralleled crimes, committed in behalf of his royal m«stjr. "Accept Judaea at my hands, my Gessius," quoth Nero at a banquet, and tossed a ripe plum into the hand of the sycophant ; " thou wilt find it full of juice as is this fruit." Florus had accepted the proffered honor with profuse gratitude. ** If the plum be not ripe," he said sententiously, "it will ripen full soon in the sunshine of my reign." The procurator carried with him into Judaea but one ambition. " I will return," he said, "the rich- est man in Rome." His royal master heard of this saying and smiled. " The diligent bee gathereth honey," he said, affect- ing a yawn, "and the wise master eateth thereof." Jerusalem was unquestionably a good field for the operations of so single-minded a ruler. By means of taxes, extortions and an occasional well- A RULER OF JERUSALEM. 171 timed removal of some rich land-owner, the worthy Gcssius amassed quite a handsome sum durin ■ 172 Tin: cnoss triumphant. branches whereof were laden with clustered grapes, every separate berry of which was a precious stone. Florus clenched his hands longingly. "They guard their treasure like stinging wasps — these Jews," he whined. " Destroy the nest, worshipful master," quoth Lotan, with a significant gesture, *' and the wasps will shortly sting each other to the death ; as for the honey, it will fall into the hands of a worthier." " If this shall happen thou art a slave no longer ; I swear it!" cried his master. "The wasps' nest shall fall if I can bring it to pass !" So did Florus determine to fan the smoldering discontent into open warfare. It would be a simple and easy matter, concluded this intelligent ruler, to put to death every man who ventured to insult imperial Rome, as represented in his own person and dig- nity. To gain his magnificent ends he was willing to invite such contumely. "These Jews," he wrote to his royal master about this time, " are traitors both in word and deed. They persistently refuse to honor thy divine image ; and while intent upon worshiping a nonen- tity, they perpetually incite one another to discord and tumult, crying out insulting words against Rome and against thy majesty. I am determined to punish these ingrates as they deserve." The effect produced by his first move in this game of death was greater and more far-reaching than he had anticipated ; seventeen talents of gold A RULER OF JERUSALEM m swelled the sum in his coffers, while three thousand dead bodies lay in the streets and market-places of the city. When the people in their grief and terror shut themselves within their desolated homes they were goaded into fresh fury by the incursions of roving bands of soldiers, who broke into the closed houses, plundering, torturing, killing, as their drunken fancy dictated. Meanwhile Florus displayed to his amazed cap- tains the face of a religious enthusiast. "What!" he exclaimed in a fine frenzy, *' shall this conquered people refuse to recognize the divinity of the em- peror and live ? Shall they heap up gold and pre- cious stones to the honor of an unknown and un- knowable God, whilst the gracious deities of Rome boast not a single altar in all Jerusalem ? By the Olympian gods, I, Florus, have sworn that these things shall no longer be !" Florus was low in stature and possessed of a countenance both pallid and fat, whereon the story of his days was written sharp and clear, as one writes with a stylus upon a tablet of wax. It pleased him to be told that he resembled Nero ; like his royal master he affected many niceties of speech and apparel. Since coming to Jerusalem he had even ventured to carry the royal emerald set in jade, which he held before his eye when he wished to silence or intimidate those who stood in his presence. It being the express fashion of the moment in imperial circles to witness spectacles of 'A: *'} I - n> 174 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. human agony, and Jerusalem being without a suit- able arena for the enjoyment of such royal sports, Florus endeavored to supply the lack by planting a series of crosses about his tribunal, which was set after the custom in the open square before his pal- ace. *' These crosses ** — never untenanted — " serve a double purpose," observed the sapient procurator, " since they furnish a wholesome rebuke to those of rebellious mind, as well as a much-needed diver- sion from the dull routine of matters of state." Into the presence of this man, as he sat in the ivory chair of his office, came the princess Berenice, the fairest woman of her time ; with naked feet ; clad all in a robe of white, the glorious tresses of her hair streaming to its hem. Behind her followed a long train of her attendants, also barefooted and wearing the symbols of mourning and despair. At her side — for so she had willed it — walked Phannias. " Great Florus," said the princess, advancing to the tessellated pavement, whereon all criminals and petitioners before the tribunal of Rome had stood for more than a centuiy, ** I, Berenice, princess of Israel, do beseech of thee thy august clemency in behalf of my people. If they have grievously erred in thy sight, so also have they been sorely punished. Now therefore let there be peace be- twixt thee and the people of Jerusalem !" Florus leaned forward, staring exultantly at the queenly figure which stood before him ; his slug- gish soul swelled with gratified vanity. A princess, suit- )orts, ing a ,s set s pal- serve rator, those diver- in the renice, I feet; ses of Uowed ed and r. At annias. cing to ?ls and stood rincess mency vously sorely ce be- at the IS slug- krincess, A RULER OF JERUSALEM. 175 barefooted, humbled to the dust by his pov/er ! He narrowed his greedy eyes and puffed out his swollen cheeks in epicurean enjoyment of this new and de- lightful sensation. Berenice, consummate mistress of fascinations, slowly lifted the fringed curtain of her lids, and per- mitted the mysterious splendor of her eyes to blaze full upon the fat, pallid face of the man in the chair. For an instant Florus forgot the temple treasure ; his breath came quick and fast. " Princess," he stammered, " I am — " He was about to say " I am thy slave ," but the word was bound up with hate- ful associations. To hide his embarrassment he raised the emerald to his eye, and the action re- stored him to himself He turned his gaze upon Phannias. " Art thou also here to plead for a blasphemous and stiff-necked people ?" he de- manded. ** I am here to ask justice for the people of Is- rael," answered Phannias. "These also asked for justice — and received it," said the procurator, pointing to the crosses with their ghastly burdens. ** What canst thou say in defense of a people who refuse to worship the divinity which the gods have set up?" " The laws of Rome permit us the enjoyment of the religion of Jehovah ; the matter was settled beyond a peradventure long before thy day of power. I plead only the just observance of exist- m % i : i| ^W. m vr. : f • i I ■ I 176 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. a ing law. In behalf of the chiefs of the Jewish natron do I stand in thy presence." Florus threw himself back in his chair. " I am Rome," he said loudly. "I am the law." With an imperious gesture Berenice commanded Phannias to be silent. " I ask not for justice, great Roman," she cried, extending her lovely naked arms toward the tribunal ; " I beseech thee for mercy — mercy for an erring and rebellious people, whose children and whose children's children shall hail the name of the illustrious Florus with accla- mations ; if only thou wilt extend to them the pro- tection of thy mighty power !" Florus permitted a smile to distort the mask-like composure of his face. Without deviating a whit from his original purpose, he had conceived on the instant the idea of adding another jewel to his hoard. A royal wife at my side, he thought within himself, will increase my power, even as the worthless cipher set beside the numeral makes it; greater than before. "Depart in peace, princess !' he said, uxorious indulgence already evident in his tones ; " for thy sake alone will I relax the severity of my course toward this rebellious people. — Jove be my witness," he continued, with a lofty gesture, ** I am not to be moved by threats ! My will is as adamant ; my purposes are eternal and un- changing ; yet if future generations shall laud the clemency of Florus, they shall speak also of the beauteous princess, who at peril of her life sued A liULKR OF J KIWIS A L EM. 177 ^QT that clemency at his feet. Princess, I salute thee !" Ik'renice bent her proud head to conceal the smile of triumph and of scorn that played about her lips. ** Admirable Florus," she murmured, '* I thank thee in behalf of the people of Israel — and also for myself. Thou shalt indeed be remembered, as princess of the Asmonean line, I swear it. Thy stern adherence to justice is already known to my brother Agrippa ; he shall now learn of thy gener- ous clemency. Doubt not that this day shall be a memorable one both for thee and for me." The enamored procurator pursed up his lips — after the fashion of Nero when in the company of beautiful women. " A memorable day," he re- peated, in tones of fatuous admiration, — "a memor- able day for thee and for me." In the seclusion of his palace the parting words of the princess recurred to his mind. "That Agrippa," he growled to his slave and private adviser, Lotan, " is a smooth and soft-spoken knave ; but not to be trusted — curse him ! Never- theless, I will have the woman and the treasure." " Who is more worthy to obtain both than the illustrious Florus," — and the slave bowed himself almost to the ground ; " yet if I may mention the fact, King Agrippa is already on his way to Jeru- salem." The procurator smote his thigh with a great oath. '* The matter must be finished !" he cri-^d. la ■yi\ f^> 1. 178 Tin: CROSS TRIUMPHANT. I' , An hour later the chief priests received the fol- lowing communication : " I, Gcssius Floras, appointed by the divine Nero to bear rule in his stead over all the provinces of Judaia, do hereby command the people of Jerusa- lem to submit peaceably to the rule of Rome, as they value their lives and their religion. They have already rebelled and have been punished. And now do I, Florus, solemnly swear to extend to the citizens of Jerusalem a full and uncondi- tional pardon for all offences which they have com- mitted against the divine authority, if on their part they signify their willingners to obey the just and equitable laws of the adored and adorable Nero — whom may the gods preserve ! This submission shall be tendered in the following manner : Two cohorts of soldiers are on their way to Jerusalem from Caesarea. Now therefore, bid the people as- semble at the gate to meet these cohorts with ac- clamations of loyalty. In this manner and in no other shall they obtain pardon for their heinous crime of treason against the majesty of Rome." In ^hc same hour he sent swift messengers to meet the advancing cohorts, bearing despatches which informed the commanding officers that Jeru- salem was in a state of insurrection. " If ye shall find a mob of lawless citizens in the streets and at the gites upon your arrival," — ran the message — " CiD not scruple to cut them down without mercy. buch ;il' o is the wid of the emperor." 'K A RULER OF JERUSALEM. 179 The mourning people were already assembled in vast numbers in the temple ; and to them Ananus, as the most venerated of the high priests, addressed himself. The proclamation of Floras had been posted in prominent places in the temple courts, and loud murmurs of surprise and suspicion had greeted it. •' We have broken no law," cried the chiefs of the common people ; " why should we kiss the sword that smites us ? Rather let us meet the co- horts with such arms as we may muster and ex- change our lives for the blood of Rome." Ananus rent his garments with loud cries of grief. " Submit — submit !" he wailed, " that the tyrant may possess no c .cuse to continue his out- rages !" Whereat, as had been previously arranged, the Levites emerged from their underground music rooms, bearing the golder trumpet.^ and the instru- ments of sweet music with which they were wont to make melody before the Lord of Hosts. Fol- lowing the Levites came the priests in long proc vi- sion, laden with the golden bowJs of sacrifice id the holy garments, of white, of scarlet and of blue. " Look upon these sacred objects, which your fa ors have revered during the ages!" cried A anus. " Look also upon this temple which is the place of your solemnities ! Would ye behold these things in the grasp of the Gentiles ? Would ye see this sanc- tuary defiled with blood and despoiled of its treasure? If ye rebel against the power of Rome these tlii'.gs ^M I I- ■ ' l8o THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. will surely follow. Submit, as becometh men and patriots, and shortly all these enormities shall be done away with ! Messengers bearing evidence which will assuredly depose this monster, Florus, are already on their way to the emperor. Behold Jehovah of Hosts is our God ; he will also bring it to pass !" Immediately the Levites burst forth in grand chorus : " Rejoice in Jehovah ye righteous ! Give thanks to Jehovah with the harp ; Make music unto him with the lute of ten strings I Sing unto him a new song ; Play skilfully with glad shouting ! For Jehovah' o word is true, And all his work is faithful ! By the word of Jehovah the heavens were made, And all their host by the breath of his mouth ! He gathereth as in heaps the waters of the sea ; He storeth the deeps in treasure houses ! Let all the earth fear before Jehovah ! Stand in awe of him, all that dwell in the world ! For he spake and it was done, He commanded, and it stood fast ! Jehovah brought the counsels of the nations to naught ; The thoughts of the people he made of none effect ! The counsel of Jehovah standeth fast forever. The thoughts of his heart from age to age ! Happy the nation whose God is Jehovah, The people whom he hath chosen for his heritage !" Once again the smoke of the evening sacrifice ascended solemnly into the dumb heavens, and the A RULER OF JERUSALEM. i8i people fell on their faces before the altar. Then with the high-pricstly blessing yet sounding in their ears they went forth obediently toward the Damas- cus gate. ^m 1 f\ m .1 rl m ; .imt : ^!||- ' .Si ,■ ' ^f;>\i; ', *; '• 'Si . "i ; ' i- ■ ;•"! »:•* :p ' t 182 THE CEO '•^JhhHb 'i sT^^^H^^^^K " .. A^ ^ '.[J.HH HH|:f|| ''"-'8^B ^Hsvrrift^.' 'I'l^H BaL-Jei--'^ :'l^in^H ^HfeiRsM •r*n>!*.S*'ia, iMJtu ti'fis M t- mtmiil immiurMa ieMmimMMimfumami iS8 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. the broad shoulders and the light but powerful limbs. "Veil of the Holiest!" she murmured, with a curl of her scarlet lip, " thou hast the face of an Apollo, the body of a warrior and the soul of a puling babe !" Phannias paled beneath the bold eyes of the wo- man. ** Thou wilt permit an unworthy servant of Jehovah, who has failed to please his queen, to withdraw from her presence," he said deliberately. " I crave also to remind her that I am in the palace of the Herods, not by mine own will, but in obedi- ence to her positive command. Princess, I salute thee ! Farewell." Berenice sprang to her feet with a gay laugh ; if her vagrant fancy had hovered like some wander- ing bee over this strangely beautiful youth, it needed but this to ensnare it. ** No — No ! * she cried ; ** thou shalt not go. I but said it to test thee. Come, I 'will tell thee of the Christians, — all that thou wilt. — Nay, I com- mand thee. Also thou canst go no further than the door of this banqueting hall, for my soldiers stand before the door." Phannias sank once more into his place ; but his eyes were clouded, and he bent them more coldly than ever upon the smiling woman at his side. ** Shall I — who would be empress, fail to win approval from this clod of a priest ?" Berenice asked herself angrily. " See, I will take it for an omen ; if I conquer this hind I shall also subjugate A DAUGHTER OF THE HERODS. 189 CcTsar." And equipping herself with every weapon in her armory of fascinations she bent herself to conquest. From grave to gay ran the current of her sparkling talk ; while smiles, frowns, blushes, dimples, chased one another across the lovely face as swift as cloud shadows athwart rich, flowering meadows. Phannias was dazzled — bewildered ; and — being altogether human — pleased with the veiled defer- ence of her tones and gestures. Without compre- hending the subtle reasons for it all, the Nazarite held his head with a more stately grace, giving glance for glance, and word for word in brilliant repartee. From time to time he drank from the jeweled goblet which stood at his elbow ; it contained — the princess assured him, with a smile of delighted mischief — nothing more nor less than purest water, stung with spices. And Phannias, through whose unaccustomed veins coursed the colorless but po- tent wine of Chios, presently decided that this princess was in truth the most beautiful and gra- cious lady in all Jerusalem — nay, in all the world. Curiously enough at this point in the hidden cur- rent of his thought the remembrance of the little Jewish maiden, whom he had wrested from the grasp of the soldier, came back to him. He was astonished to perceive, as he beheld this remem- bered face, that it was beautiful. Turning to his royal hostess with a hesitation learned wholly TT \'n ..Hi,- 1^ %: li)' f 4 r 1 i' "' ( ' ! 1 ! 190 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. within the hour, he asked what had become of the girl. "Of the shopkeeper's daughter?" she asked, a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. " I know nothing of the maid — whether or no she be the daughter of a shopkeeper," answered Phannias, vaguely discomfited. Berenice leaned forward and laid her white hand upon his arm. " Tell me truly about the girl," she cooed. "I am no hypocritical rabbi to be offended with a young man because he is not an old one. The little maid is very beautiful ; is it not so ?" *'I had not thought — " stammered Phannias, proud of dissembling. He dropped his dazzled eyes before the burning splendor of the gaze that was fastened upon him. "I never before saw the girl." "Thou hast told the truth in that word," ob- served the princess, with an enigmatical smile ; "thine eyes were not yet opened. Verily, the gods are kind to me — and will be kinder. Au- gusta Victoria !* what sayest thou ; is it not a sounding name? — fit to grace triumphant beauty?" She laughed aloud, as one laughs who has won an easy victory. *' I once visited an aged Nazarene, concerning whom I had a curiosity," she continued, after a little silence. " He had wrought strange miracles, it was said ; had caused the lame to walk ; opened * Augusta ; a title of the Empress of Rome : Victoria ; the Latin form of the name Berenice. A DA UGIITER OF THE IIERODS. 191 blind eyes and the like — all Christians arc reputed wizards. I disguised myself as a wonrian of the people and, attended by a single slave, went to this man's house. It was here in Jerusalem. He was sitting quite alone in a great bare chamber, writing upon a scroll. ' I am lame, good Nazarene,' I whined, affecting to limp as I entered his presence ; ' wilt thou not heal me ?' Had he spoken words of incantation, waving his arms aloft, as do the lying magic-mongers of Rome and Athens, I had the intent to fling a coin in his face ; I had no fear of any man — then or now. But he said no word ; only looked at me with his wise, deep eyes, till, I swear to thee, the water of shame stood in drops upon my forehead ; then he turned and read, as if from his scroll ; ' Whosoever transgresseth, and abideth not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God. If there come any such unto you, receive him not into your house, neither bid him God-speed ; for he that biddeth him God-speed is partaker of his evil deeds.' *' * Nay, good Nazarene,' I besought him peni- tently, ' give me a word less harsh to carry into the world.' — Truly for the instant I had the desire to please the man. Again he looked upon me, and with wondrous kindness — I had let down the veil from before my face. ' Daughte/,' he said, * I will give thee a true word ai.d precious ; it is this : * Love is of God ; and every one that loveth knoweth God.' " -I ,:i I 'If •' 1 / 1 1 192 THE CROSS T/Ul^MrilAXT. The silver tones sank to a low, musical murmur ; and Phannias, shaken to the depths of his soul by the divine truth and beauty of the words, though he wist not anything of the horrible travesty of their utterance, leaned toward his companion. "Ah, yes," he cried exultantly, "that is true — true ! I know it — I feel it. How beautiful to be- lieve that it is true !" He extended his hand me- chanically toward his goblet ; it was empty. Berenice raised her hand with an angry gesture. " More wine, slave," she whispered. Phannias started back before that sibilant utter- ance as from a blow. "Wine!" he echoed sharply. The princess bit her lip with vexation. " I did not mean it — truly ; 'twas but a slip of this care- less tongue." "No — no ! Poor fool that I am to become the sport of a woman ! My vow — I have broken my vow !" " And what is thy trumpery vow more than mine ?" demanded Berenice, springing to her feet. " Thou hast broken thy vow ? What then ; thou hast broken a chain ! What hath thy vow done for thee ? Has it fed thee, — clothed thee, — warmed thee, — pleasured thee ? Nay, I trow not. I too was a Nazarite — why ? To please yon rotten priest- hood ; to gain power and influence for my ambi- tious brother. I have broken my vow — for love ; and thou, m* beautiful Phannias — canst thou not forgive me if, when breaking the shackles from my own limbs, I have also made the^ a free man ?" A DXUailTKR OF Till': JIKRODS. 193 f s m Phannias stared dumbly into the exquisite face, lifted so beseechingly to his. •' For love's sake, my Phannias," she whispered, and wavered toward him like a tall, sweet lily, bowed before the impe- rious wind. He would have caught her with a sob of pain and joy in his strong young arms, but on the in- stant she recoiled, stiffening in sudden fear and amaze at the sound of hurrying feet in the corridor without. The door of the banqueting hall was flung open. "Agrippa!" she exclaimed; then seeing the blood upon his drawn sword, "What is it — what has happened ?" The man who had thus rudely entered cast a frowning glance about the room. " The people of Jerusalem are cr>'ing out for the blood of a certain princess, who has sold them — they declare — to the Roman, Florus," he said hoarsely, bringing his fiery eyes to a standstill on the white face of the woman. " What hast thou done ? Answer !'* " I ? — But why dost thou speak to me as though I were some base-born slave who had earned thy royal displeasure ? Nay, I will answer thee noth- ing !" "Thou wilt answer them, and that right speedily," said Agrippa, with a significant gesture. Berenice listened to the ominous sounds from without for an instant. "What — what has hap- pened ?" she faltered. " I — I have done nothing — 1 swear it ; save to ask mercy for this howling rab- 13 1 •94 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. blc at the knees of Florus. Me promised it mc, on the word of his honor." " The people he dead in uncounted thousands about the Damascus Gate," ansv/ered Agrippa, bitterly ; " cut down by the Roman cohorts. The prudent Florus has retired to C.esarea to gloat over his victims at a safe distance. Wilt thou join him there, fair enchantress? Or hast thou, haply, an- other affair of more pressing moment in Jeru- salem ?" Berenice's eyes flamed with sudden fury. " I hate you !" she cried. Then she turned suddenly upon Phannias. ** Go, fool," she said sharply. " Canst thou not see that thou art no longer wanted ?" "js- ii/A'/AV I'LVLW." CHAPTER XX. m <( AS BIRDS FLYING. THE days had passed slowly for Rachel, alone in her cottage at Aphtha. She had received news of her son but once since the morning he left her for Jerusalem ; this was when Ben Huna, smart- ing with his disappointment, had returned to the village. The rabbi told her gently of the flaw in the line of descent, which at present loomed up in the guise of an insuperable barrier to the illustrious future which the good man fully believed lay before his favorite. Rachel was somewhat bewildered by the legal phraseology into which Ben Huna allowed himself to stray, in the course of his dissertation on the na- ture and scope of the priestly office. She under- stood but one thing clearly ; Phannias could not follow the career which she had herself planned out for him, and which had threatened to sunder their lives so widely. Her eyes brightened. " Ah, yes," she cried, with a tremulous sigh and smile, •' I quite understand ; my popr child has been rejected. Alas, that it is so ! Yet one must bow to the will of God. My son will now return to me, and we shall live here quite happily as before." • ■! I :v'«i- it'll; 196 TIIK CROSS TRWMrilANT. " Not so, woman," said lien Huna, all the maj- esty of the law in his tone and gesture; "it is indeed the will of God that wo bow to tlie inevit- able ; but let us first be sure that it is the inevitable which confronts us. The lad will remain in the temple, honorably employed, whilst I fare forth to look to this matter. I have already collected data which will enable me to search out — ay, and to make good this proof which is required." "But why — " urged the widow timidly, "could he not remain with me till thou hast succeeded in thy search. I — I am alone, as thou seest, and " " More than once hast thou had opportunity to furnish thyself with a husband," quoth the rabbi. "Thou art without companionship because thou hast willed it. Behold it is written : * It is not good for man to be alone.* As for woman, she was made by Jehovah for no other purpose than to minister to the needs and pleasures of man ; by herself she is as nothing. This is the law, and it is also good." Rachel's brown checks flushed crimson. If at any time she had cherished rebellious and un- womanly thoughts concerning the laws made by man for man, she had also the grace to be silent concerning them. Ben Huna regarded the downcast face of the widow with a certain kindly indulgence, not un- mixed with approval. Rachel was still a singularly comely woman ; and for the rest, there was not a better piece of land nor a cosier house in all the **AS BTRDs FLvrya." 197 village of Aphtha. "Ah well," he continued with a sigh, and straightened his bent shoukiers, " I am already an old man, and if I would see the sacred oil on the lad's head before I go hence there are no days to lose. Farewell, woman ; busy thyself with thy prayers, and haply God will regard thy petition ; for so doth the Almighty with wondrous graciousness condescend toward the humblest of his creatures." With these parting words the good rabbi went his way ; and if vague thoughts of a tranquil old age, soothed and comforted by the gentle ministra- tions of a beautiful woman went with him, it was perhaps not to be wondered at. Ikit Ben Huna had occupied himself too long with the happiness of other people to think very persistently of his ov/n, and presently the unaccustomed thoughts took flight, like a flock of startled doves, before the prosaic arrangements necessary for a long journey ; for he had found that in order to compass his ends he must travel into far-distant cities. Aj for Rachel, she did as she was bid ; and truly, if the yearning petitions of a mother's heart could have taken visible form, one might have beheld in those days a cloud of prayers, white as the pa*^- sionate wings of angels, ascending into the blue heavens which bent over Aphtha. In doomed Je- rusalem the smoke of an altar fij-e soon to be ex- tinguished forever also rose, black and ominous, like the breath of a funeral pj^re. Betwixt the two a human soul wavered in agony. 198 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. In her garden at close of day Rachel walked, musing, dreaming, praying. In imagination she beheld her child, clad all in white, like an angel, ministering in the shining courts of the temple. Would he also remember her, alone in the old gar- den, where unchanged the stream twinkled pleas- antly over its pebbles of yellow and pink and green, and the blossoming almond boughs wrapped the moss-grown thatch in a bower of fragrant silence. The pigeons, already warmly sheltered from the dew beneath the overhanging roof of the old house, cooed drowsily to the uneasy nestlings beneath their wings ; while athwart the gold and purple of the solemn evening sky, the swallows came flitting homeward in twos and threes. Below on the mountain road which ascended from Bethlehem in long loops and curves like the loose- flung coils of a rope, a white figure climbed steadily upward. Rachel's heart leapt to her lips as she watched it ; then her eyes filled with patient tears. " He will not come," she said. The tall lilies, standing like sentinels beside the worn path, poured forth their gold and frankincense and myrrh with tremulous haste as one brushed swiftly past them in the twilight. " Mother — oh mother !" The uncounted prayers, white as the wings of angels — and more strong, had conquered. Phan- nias was once more at home. THE LAST VICTORY. 199 i : II CHAPTER XXI. THE LAST VICTORY. gs of Phan- IN the year 66 — reckoning from the birth of the man of GaHlee, strange things and terrible came to pass in the Jewish provinces. Agrippa, in his double character of patriot and diplomat, en- deavored to soothe the maddened people, using now his persuasive eloquence, now detachments of Roman troops to gain his ends. At the last he abandoned Israel to its fate, withdrawing to Caesa- rea, from which stronghold he watched subsequent events with the cynical composure of a practiced gambler. Berenice, somewhat sobered by her nar- row escape from the hands of the mob in Jerusa- lem, accompanied him. In those days the so-called Zealots threw wide the gates of Jerusalem to certain wandering bands of predatory vagabonds which infested the countryside. " So will we fight fire with fire !" they declared ; and the brigands — known as Sicars, because of the cruel curved sword which they wore concealed beneath their garments, flocked into the doomed city like vultures, gathering to some ghastly feast of death. In the space of a month they had accompHshed a frightful work of destruction ; the 'fill. 200 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. palaces of Agrippa and of the chief priests were De- stroyed with fire ; so also were the public buildings containing the records and contracts relating to debts and debtors : there were now neither rich nor poor in Jerusalem. Antonia, the great fortress of the R.oman garrison, was captured by the mob in a single night, with the slaughter of the guards to a man. Rumors of these happenings spread into all the provinces ; whereat the Jewish nation arose, as a fierce beast which shakes itself after sleep, and fell upon the dominant Gentile with a fury born of long centuries of wrong and oppression. Cestius Gallus, the proconsul of Syria, was held to be a wise and prudent man ; one whose actions were not to be accelerated by undue urging or ve- hemence on the part of his advisers. " Let them slay one another for a time," he said, with an air of weighty wisdom ; " 'twill prove a wholesome bloodletting, which may serve to ease these turbu- lent peoples of their disorders." Yet Cestius was compelled at last to set in mo- tion the ponderous engines of law and war, which, once started, work out blindly the will of Him who sitteth — himself unseen — upon the circle of the heavens. Sending detachments of Roman .troops into the Galilees, and adown the coast as far as Joppa, Cestius departed from Antioch with the twelfth legion ; finally reassembling all his forces at Caesarea, after successfully checking a number THE LAST VICTORY. 201 e ae- iings ig to h nor )f the in a 3 to a ,11 the , as a id fell f long 5 held ictions or ve- them an air esome urbu- mo- ^hich, who )f the troops I far as h the I forces imber of threatening insurrections by means of an indis- criminate slaughter of all Jews who fell in his path. From Caesarea the proconsul advanced tuward Jerusalem, by way of the rugged pass of Beth- horon, where, nearly fifteen centuries before, Joshua had defeated the five confederate kings of the Amo- rites. At Gibeon, a little further on, he was met by a certain Sicar chieftain, known as Simon Bar-Gio- ras, and repulsed with fury. A few days later and the Roman forces were again advancing steadily upon Jerusalem, driving the inhabitants of the coun- try before them, as a swarm of locusts is driven by the fierce west wind. Seven furlongs to the north of the city, the Oli- vet range stretches in a long level plateau flung from its central bulk like the limb of a sleeping giant ; upon this height, known in Jerusalem as Scopus, the triumphant Romans pitched their camp. **The war is at an end," quoth Cestius. And he was the more certain of this when a deputation composed of the leading men of the city visited him. This deputation approached the Roman camp with the greatest secrecy, stealing out from the city gates by night with the connivance of the gate- keepers. "We have come to thee, most noble Cestius," said Ananus, who headed the embassy, " to proffer our submission, and to profess to thee our entire loyalty to Rome. What has already happened at the hands of the mob, we bewail as the acts of 202 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. men bereft of reason and drunk with blood and rapine. Behold, we ourselves have suffered at the hands of this common enemy the loss of all that is dear to us. Now therefore, enter the city, we be- seech thee, and restore to our distracted nation that peace which we may alone enjoy under the power- ful protection of Roman law." This saying pleased Cestius ; and having further received from these men a pledge that the gates of the city should be opened to him freely, he ad- vanced confidently, only to meet with a fierce re- sistance from the army of Sicars and Zealots who crowded the walls witli a deadly fringe of archers. As for the luckless ambassadors, all save Ananus had been caught by the watchful Zealots, and their dead bodies were flung piecemeal from the gate towers into the faces of the advancing Romans. At this Cestius, being more prudent than wise, withdrew to his camp to consider the matter at his leisure, despite the entreaties of his captains, who saw quite clearly that the city might now be taken with ease. Was it a viewless messenger from Jehovah of Hosts, vested with an authority which could not be denied, who stood at the side of the proconsul, saying, " Stay now thy hand ; the harvest is not yet ripe for the sickle — the grain also must first be separated from the doomed chaff." Or was it a certain scroll, received that day from his friend and kinsman, Florus, procurator of Judea. " Suffer THE LAST VICTORY, 203 the rival swarms to destroy one another ; after- ward we will divide the honey," — ran the enigmati- cal words of this writing, which was conveyed to the worthy Cestius by a fleet messenger from Caes- area Philippi. Certain it is that Cestius broke camp and fell back to Gibeon ; and from thence, entangling himself with his cumbrous trains of baggage among the wild fastnesses of Bethhoron, he fled in a ruck of mad confusion adown the rocky valleys, pursued by the swarming mountain- eers, who slew in a single day no fewer than five thousand of the flower of the Roman army. And so it came to pass that in Bethhoron, where Israel had gained its first great victory, it also won its last. The conquerors laden with spoils returned to Jerusalem, dragging with them the heavy engines of war which the Romans had abandoned in their flight. That night the inhabitants of the holy city gave themselves up to a mad carnival of joy ; fires, kindled from the saddles of the slain cavalry and the wooden shields of the foot-soldiers, blazed fiercely on every sacred height about the city ; tu- multuous voices shouting paeans of victory sounded everywhere in the darkness ; and in the courts of the temple crowds of worshipers, delirious with triumph, bellowed themselves hoarse in honor of Jehovah of Hosts. , Overhead in the soft dark of the spring night blazed a mighty sword of fire ; the people had watched its gradual appearance in their familiar \\m ' i iW i ■ '' ) t, ■' .1 i 204 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. heavens with fear and dread, but now they flung their arms toward the ominous visitant with exult- ant clamor. " The sword of triumph !" they cried. '* The sword of Israel and of the Lord !" Wild rumors of portent and miracle flew from mouth to mouth ; it was afiirmed that during the ninth hour of the night before the victory a great light had shone for the space of half an hour about the altar of the Holy Place. Chariots and soldiers fighting furiously had been observed in the clouds at sunset. The Gate Beautiful, which required the strength of twenty men to move, had of itself swung wide at the hour of midnight, as though to wel- come the incoming hosts of a triumphant deity. Men looked one another in the face with wild eyes, half hoping to see in every unfamiliar countenance the lineaments of the Messiah. Ay, verily, the time was ripe ! In certain closed and quiet houses of the city far other scenes were taking place ; in some, despairing women wept over their dead ; in others, iiasty preparations for flight were going forward. There was no longer any hope of a reconciliation with Rome ; to escape before the crashing blow of doom should fall was now all that remained. In a narrow and crooked street of the Agra, numerous heavily draped figures sought in the dark- ness a shabby and ancient house, wherein was an upper chamber lighted dimly by the flaring light of a cresset fixed to the blackened rafters. This light THE LAST VICTORY, 205 shone brightly on the bowed head of an aged man who stood directly beneath its glow. When the room was quite filled with the silent figures, this man lifted his tremulous hands and looked earnestly into the white faces before him. "My children," he said tenderly, "well-beloved and faithful in the belief of our Lord Jesus Christ, the days are come when it is meet to stir up your pure minds by way of remembrance. Already it is known to some of you how that our Lord, before he was crucified spake in this wise to the multitude which was assembled to hear him in the temple. ' Behold,' he said, * I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes ; and some of them ye shall kill and crucify ; and some of them ye shall scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city to city ; that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zacharias, whom ye slew between the sanctuary and the altar. Verily, I say unto you, all these things shall come upon this generation.' "When he had said these words, our Lord looked around about upon the people, and upon the temple ; and to those of us who stood by, it seemed that the water stood in his eyes. He stretched forth his arms with longing as doth, a motker when she yearneth over an unruly son. * O Jerusalem, Jeru- salem !' he cried, * thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how Si t',?SKi. 206 THE CROSS TRTUMPHANT. often would I have gathered thy children together — even as a hen gathercth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! Behold, your House is left unto you desolate ! ¥oy I say unto you, yc shall not see me henceforth, till yc shall say. Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.* "As he was about to quit the temple, certain of us — marveling at the glory of the place and at the words which he had spoken concerning it, said to him, * See, Lord, what stones and what buildings are here!' And he answered : 'Verily, I say unto you, there shall not be left here one stone upon another which shall not be cast down.* " In that hour we also remembered the word he had spoken on the day of his triumph, as the people brought him with rejoicing into the city, spreading their garments before him in the way, stripping the branches from the palms, and crying out, * Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of Jehovah ! Peace in heaven ! Glory in the highest !* When, from the heights near Jerusalem, he beheld the city and the temple, shining white and beautiful in the sun, he stopped to gaze upon it ; and they that walked by his side heard his voice, as it were heavy with tears, saying, * If thou hadst known — even thou, at least in this thy day — the things which be- long to thy peace ! But now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thcc, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every THE LAST VICTORY. 207 side, and shall lay thcc even with the fjround and thy children within thee : and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another, because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation !' " Two days before the passover, in the which he was put to death, our Lord walked upon the Mount of Olives, where also he loved to be ; the lilies of the field flourished there an the shadows of great olive trees made a cool retreat from the sun ; — ye all know the place, and love it, for his sake who is passed from our midst. In this place we who walked with him at all times came to him privately, for our hearts were heavy with dread. * Tell us,' we said, ' when shall these things be ? And what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world ?' " Then he told us freely of all things which were to happen in the days when he should no longer be with us. Of these many have already been ful- filled ; wars and rumors of wars have vexed our cars ; famines, pestilences, earthquakes have visited the nations. Of them who loved him, have many suffered persecution even unto death ; of whom also is Stephen, who was stoned by them that hate our Lord — and died beholding his glory ; and with him a great multitude of the saints who have been scourged, and imprisoned and tortfured of wild beasts — and of men, less merciful than beasts — both here, and in Judea, and in all the corners of the earth where the light of Christ hath shone. 4 li' 'j ! 4 ;;o8 THE CHO!^S TRIUMrilANT. These things have been fulfilled ; and now behold, the end is at hand. We have seen the abomina- tion o» desolation stand in the holy place — for by what other name can the hosts of the heathen be called, which were lately encamped on Olivet, niadc forever holy by the feet of Him who brought unto us good tidings. Now let them which be in Judaja flee unto the mountains ! For the great tribula- tion is at hand ; such as was not since the beginnin^^ of the world to this time — no, nor ever shall be ! Lo, He told us before it came to pass. It is for us to obey !" The deep tones of the speaker ceased, and a si- lence, broken only by the distant shouts of the mad revelers in the streets without, settled like a cloud upon the little company in that upper room. Then a voice, fresh and joyous as that of an angel, chanted softly, " Jesus — Christ, glad Light of the Highest ! Light of the Father, radiant, holy ! While the night spreads its dim mantle o'er us, We worship the light which hath shined — Which hath shined in the darkness !" One by one other voices joined the single glad thread of song. Voices of women, sweet and sad ; voices of children, shrill and bright as of downy- throated nestlings ; the graver voices of men ; all thrilling with life's sorrows, past, present or to come. THE LAST VICTORY. 209 " Praise to thee, Father ! Praise to thee, Jesus ! Worthy art thou to be praised of the hohest, Now and forever ; on all days and eternally, IJelovcd of God, who givest us life !" A few passionate prayers for special help and guidance in this hour of their sore need, and the meeting was at an end. Plans for the future were simple and quickly de- cided upon by these followers of One who was with them alway, and upon whose word they leaned as upon a strong staff They would take with them no useless burden of worldly goods ; for the time pressed, and their Lord had spoken concerning this also : •* Let him which is upon the housetop not come down to take anything out of his house ; neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes." Following the counsel of James, the beloved head of the church in Jerusa- lem, they settled upon a small town in the moun- tains of Gilead as the divinely appointed refuge from the threatening storm. The name of this place was Fella, which signifies in the Hebrew tongue hidden — secret — set apart ; and again, de- liverance, or escape. In the gray of the morning they set forth — all the Christians of Jerusalem who were able to travel. But James, and with him Rufus, a proselyte, and certain women who were bereft of home and family remained behind. " There are the aged ones," said the bishop, " and also of them that are sick 14 3IO Tm: CROSS triumphant. not a few — which must perforce tarry ; I will not leave them alone." After he had sent away the last of the travelers with prayers and blessinj^s, James sat in the upper chamber, spent and worn, yet rejoicing because he knew that it would be well with those whom his soul loved. In spirit he went out with the wayfarers along the great Roman road, soon to resound to the tread of avenging hosts, and he pictured to himself the Lord's flock, folded safe in the green pastures and beside the still waters of distant Pella. As he mused thus in the chilly dawn, one touched him upon the shoulder ; he turned to look into the blushing face of a young maid who held before him a trencher containing meat and bread. " I pray thee, my lord," she said timidly, "that thou wilt eat and refresh thyself after the long night." To the dim eyes of the aged bishop she looked no less than a ministering angel, for the dawn streaming through the lattice touched her bent head with heaven's glory. "Who art thou, my daughter?" he asked wondering. And she — " I am Merodah ; I have heard thee speak now seven times of the crucified Jesus ; and truly, I love both him and thee." "But thou art young and strong, my child," said the bishop tenderly. " Why is it that thou hast not departed with the others from this place of doom?" Merodah looked troubled. " I cannot leave my father," she said simply. iiV ArUTJLL 311 m CHAPTKR XXII. IN APHTHA. IN the towns and cities of Judnca, news of the splendid victory over Cestius aroused the wildest enthusiasm. Public thanks^ivin{.^s were held in all the synagogues ; while in the humblest cottages, feasting, singing and dancing went for- ward right merrily. It was positively affirmed that the whole Roman army had been destroyed ; that the resistless hosts of heaven had been seen visibly dcscf nding from the clouds, and pursuing the flying cohorts with swords and banners of fire. The days of the Messiah were surely at hand, and there re- mained now only the consummation of the glorious promises so long held out by sage and prophet. The vague reports of the landing of Ronan legions at Ptolemais aroused no alarm in the minds of the deluded people. " Our God is able to overthrow the hosts of the idolaters," they said boastfully, "even as when Sennacherib, King of the Assyrians, set himself against Jerusalem, and the angel of the Lord went out at midnight through his camp and smote of the Assyrians an hundred, fourscore and five thousand, that they died." ih" , 1 •'•!'[ ^fi 212 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. Certain of their number, whose eyes were not entirely blinded, called urgently upon the people everywhere to arm themselves ; to make strong their walled cities ; to fortify the mountain passes ; to gather up their harvests and bestow them in places of safety. But to these last futile words of warning the doomed nation paid no heed. When the towns of Galilee began one by one to fall be- fore the fierce attacks of the Romans under Vespa- sian, the inhabitants of Judea only hugged their delusion the closer. Many of them, it is true, ter- rified by the lawless deeds of the Zealots, aban- doned their homes and set their faces toward Jeru- salem with their wives and their little ones. " Be- hold, in Jerusalem we shall be safe," they said, '• and in the city of Zion shall we eat the fat of the Gentiles." In quiet Aphtha, people still .^owed their crops and harvested them ; observed the times and sea- sons of the moon ; ate and drank merrily at feasts and danced at vintage, as in the old days. Galilee with the avenging Romans was far away ; and Jeru- salem, hid among its sacred hills, gave forth no dis- quieting token of the fire of civil warfare which de- voured it. Now and again a traveling merchant would startle the idle peasants who hung about the village inn with wild tales of the Zealots, who had entrenched themselves in the courts of the temple as in a fortress ; while below in the defenceless Agra swarmed the dissolute soldiers of John of Gischala. ,r \ ''■:- I mi IN APHTHA. 213 Strange tales indeed to tell of the City of Solem- nities. The children laughed with witless delight to hear how these rioters paraded themselves by night in the garb of women, their faces painted scarlet, their touseled heads decked with rich head- dresses and jewels. But their elders frowned un- easily when their informant whispered of the bloody deeds of these fantastic marauders. " The priests should not allow these unlawful things," they said with indignation. "Moses is no longer spoken of in Jerusalem," was the ominous answer ; "as for the priests, they also have become warriors." During these months Phannias remained in the house of his mother. After the first outburst of love and joy with which she had received him, he had said little of his experiences in the temple. ** I have broken my vow," he had cried despairingly, on that night of his return. But when on the fol- lowing day Rachel had begged him to take counsel with the ruler of the synagogue and with the Bat- lanin, he refused in a tone which silenced her. " I will have none of them," he said fiercely. " Nor will I again become a Nazarite." And Rachel, bethinking herself that it was she who had bound him, forbore to urge the matter. On the third day after his home-coming, the ruler of the synagogue and the ten Batlanin visited the widow. They had heard of the young Naza- rite's rejection at the hands of the priesthood, and ml II . ■»■- • '1 iQ 1^ L » jiu i I.' •. 214 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. I were full of curiosity to see how he bore himself " 'Tis in accordance with the law of Moses and the will of Jehovah," said the ruler of the synagogue piously, staring with hard, unwinking eyes into the young man's gloomy face. Phannias returned the look haughtily ; but he made no reply. "Thou art still a Nazarite — God be praised!" quoth another, "and canst give thy life to the blessed study of the Talmud and Mishna." " I am not a Nazarite," said Phannias. " Nor will I give my life to the study of what is useless and unmeaning." Whereat these righteous representatives of the law cried out as one man, ** Apostate ! The devil hath seized upon thee for his own !" After this they troubled him no more, though there was talk for a space of scourging his body at the door of the synagogue, that haply he might be purged of the evil spirit which had possessed him. Yet be- Cc. se of his great stature there was no man of them all who durst undertake the task. As for the fallen Nazarite, at times he worked mightily in his mother's vineyard, performing with ease in a single day labor upon which the slow- witted peasants would have spent a week. At other times he disappeared from the village, leav- ing home with no word of warning, and reappear- ing as suddenly. Once, after an absence of thrice seven days he returned, exhausted and scarce able to speak, the reason for which appeared in a IN APHTHA. 215 ghastly wound beneath his tunic, which he reluc- tantly allowed his mother to dress. *' Oh, my son," wailed Rachel, in an agony of helpless love and sorrow, " where hast thou been ? What if thou hadst fallen in some desert spot with none to help thee ?" "The ravens pluck the flesh from thrice ten thousand bodies of men slain in battle," answered Phannias gloomily. " I am but one man, and hateful in the sight of Jehovah." Rachel caught eagerly at the last word. ** Jeho- vah is very merciful," she said timidly; "surely thou hast not forgotten how thou wast cleansed in the temple and restored " Phannias broke away from the gentle hands with a harsh laugh. ** Cleansed !" he repeated. ** Can a flock of vultures whose talons reek with the blood of holy men cleanse one who hath sinned?" He turned suddenly and fixed his burning eyes upon his mother's white face. " Mother — mother !" he cried, " there is no longer any way of cleansing. There is nothing but death — death ! — Look you," he continued, after a long silence which Rachel did not venture to break, " I have visited every place where I might find them that could tell me of the man, Jesus of Nazareth. — I swore to do this thing ; for myself, I swore it. Mpther, what if it be true ! The Messiah — rejected — crucified. The blood of the Promised on the head of Israel ! My God, if it be true !" IIP i 1 m • -1 I 1 i Iftf \ t f i ' , 1 1 ■j 1 i 1 ( '. 1 ' 1 / I 2l6 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. After this for the space of a month Phannias re- mained quietly at home ; during these days he was more than ordinarily gentle to his mother, whose bitterness of soul he divined, but could not com- fort. If he knew that she spent her days in prayer, and her nights in secret weeping and humiliation before the God who seemed so very far away, he gave no sign. For himself he no longer prayed ; the grand religion of his fathers appeared in his eyes no better than a loathsome corpse, from whose ghastly features the cerecloth had fallen away ; while the mysterious ecstatic joy of the believers in the crucified Nazarene seemed a strange mad- ness upon which he looked with cold dislike. "If the Messiah has come," he groaned within his darkened soul, *• then is the end of all things at hand." He hated and feared himself the more because, believing this, he could yet spend long feverish hours dreaming of the fair false princess, who had made him the plaything of an idle moment, to spurn him as one spurns a dog whose fantastic gambols no longer amuse. A thousand times the mad blood leaped to his brain as he recalled her face, splendid as some passionate rose, dew- drenched and sun-flamed. "She loved me!" he cried, forgetting all but the baleful radiance of her eyes as she bent toward him, whispering, " For love's sake, my Phannias." Once, as he passed on one of his wild journeys IN APHTHA. 217 through the mountains, he came upon a group of refugees, who told him many things that had taken place in the world. '* Nero is dead ; Otho is dead ; Vitellius is dead. The legions have declared Ves- pasian emperor," they said. Then perceiving that he cared nothing for the information, they fell to talking among themselves of the slaughters in Gal- ilee, and of the towns in Judaea which yet remained to be conquered. After a little one made mention of Berenice, af- firming that she had visited the camp of the Roman conquerors, that she might, at the last, save Jeru- salem and the temple. Whereat another — " The woman hath cast her gilded web about the son of Vespasian that she may please herself; for Jerusalem and the temple she cares no more than for her former lovers — who are legion." With that he laughed aloud and called the princess a vile name. The word was his last, for Phannias sprang upon him like a wild beast. ** Liar !" he shrieked, and choked the soul from the man's Hps. The others drew their weapons ; but in the end Phannias rushed away into the hills, leaving all three behind, a silent company. If a man lose his faith in God and in woman on one and the same day, that day becomes a day of doom. But Phannias yet believed in one woman ; that woman clung to him with one hand and to God with the other ; and so although his soul 1 , m ' M il -:*i 2l8 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. hung over the pit that has not been sounded of men or angels it could not well fall lower. On a day in lyar, the bloom month, Phannias labored in the terraced steeps of the vineyard, his strong brown shoulders glistening in the sun as they rose and fell with the rhythmic motion of the spade. Warm gusts of fragrance, exhaling from the new leaves and blossoms of the vines, mingled with the potent smell of the freshly-dug earth. Phannias drew in long breaths of it and was con- scious of a primal gladness stirring in his soul. Over the roof of his mother's cottage the almond trees billowed against the sky like nearer clouds of pink and white ; they were alive with bees whose loud joyous humming filled the silences betwixt bird songs. Below on the steep path which led from Beth- lehem there toiled a bent figure, which Phannias knew. His first impulse was to throw down his spade and run to meet the wayfarer ; his next was to hide himself. In the end he did neither, but continued stolidly at his digging. After a time he heard his mother's voice ; she was calling him, a note of gladness in her tones which Phannias resented. ** She thinks that I will obey him," he muttered, with a savage thrust of the spade; "but I am no longer a child." He affected not to hear the summons, turning his back upon the cottage, and busying himself blindly with the topmost row of vines ; but he must needs ac- IN APHTHA. 219 knowledge the authoritative touch upon his shoul- der, with which Ben Huna presently announced himself. Phannias looked up, his black brows meeting over stormy eyes ; he was prepared to face right- eous wrath, godly sorrow, and a long dissertation on the law ; but in the eyes that met his own he read only gladness and love — love unutterable, yet full of a strange regret. He opened his lips to speak, but Ben Huna stretched out his arms with a great cry, *' My son — my son ! Thanks be unto Jehovah and unto our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who hath heard my prayer and hath preserved me alive till I should undo the mischief I have done ! — But come, let us descend into the garden ; I have much to say to thee — and to Rachel, thy mother." Phannias threw down his spade and followed his old master with a curling lip. "Thou wast right, my son Phannias," began Ben Huna, when all three were seated in the thick shadow of the fig tree. " Thou wast right, and I — blind that I was — forced thee into the hoary paths of error, despite thy clearer vision. Look you, I have traveled far since last I saw you, and this much have I learned by the grace of God. Jesus of Nazareth, born in the khan of Bethlehem yonder, was the Messiah of Israel !" The old man spoke these words with a solemn joy that did not escape the watchful eyes of Phannias. He had seen this 1' ti- ■ ' 1 ; H :j'm^] 2ao THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. '■ i ( 1 ' look upon many faces ; he had not ceased to won- der at it. " If it be true," he said within himself, •' why rejoice ?" " In Ephesus," continued Ben Huna, after a silence, during which he seemed, in his old wise fashion, to be searching among his thronging thoughts for the best and easiest to be compre- hended, — " in Ephesus, I fell in with a man called John ; he was an apostle of Jesus ; that is to say, one appointed by the Christ to be his companion during his earth life and a shepherd of his flock- after he was forced to leave them. This holy man told me all the story of the blessed life in Beth- lehem — in Nazareth — in Capernaum and in all the places through which the Master traveled, healing and teaching the people. As much of this as I was able I have written down. — See, here are the parchments ; thou shalt help me, my son, to put them in order. Ah, the blessed life — the blessed death !" " The man died upon the cross," said Phannias gloomily. ** What blessing can come from that which is accursed ? If it be true that the Nazarene was the Messiah, there can be nothing in that truth save death and ruin for Israel. For myself I will not believe it." Ben Huna turned his mild eyes upon the young man with a look of dismay and sorrow. " Alas !" he said, as if to himself — or to another close at hand, " I did my terrible work too well." IN APHTHA. Ml ** 77iou didst it?" cried Phannias, shaking his broad shoulders impatiently. " T/ioi^ / — Nay, I am no longer a child — a weakling, to believe blindly what I am told. Look you, rabbi, I also have traveled, and have talked with many of the followers of this man. They all harp on the same string, and affect a mysterious rapture of belief in the dead man, who lives, they declare — though they cannot prove it to the eye or touch of any man. That the temple is defiled by the presence of evil men they care nothing ; that the enemies of the nation threaten to devour it like a swarm of locusts they care nothing; that the laws of Moses are trodden under foot by their Gentile proselytes they care nothing. Nay, they declare that the days of the law are past ; and they sing and pray to the crucified One, their faces shining as if anointed, while the sword hangs over the nation's head !" Phannias poured forth these words with a fever- ish energy which brooked no interruption ; and Ben Huna, comprehending something of the storm which raged in the young man's soul, remained silent. Rachel had spoken no word, but sitting apart wrapped in her patient sorrow listened with won- der; now she started to her feet with a gesture of alarm. *' There is tumult in tbe village!" she whispered, her dark eyes resting with a mother's keen prescience upon the face of her son. The sound of swift feet and tumultuous voices .1 rt <>* , . il. •J 222 THE CROSS TnnOfPHANT. penetrated the calm peace of the little garden. A man, breathless, exhausted as if with swift runnin^^, hurled himself over the low barriers at its foot. •' I seek Phannias IJen Samuel," he cried impera- tively. •' In the name (jf the holy council of Zeal- ots, show me him !" "What wilt thou with the lad?" began Ikn Huna, extending a trembling hand as if to protect his beloved pupil. Phannias put him firmly aside. " I am the son of Samuel," he said boldly. ** What is it thou hast to say to me ?" The man gave vent to a loud shout of exultation. '• High Priest of Israel, elect of the holy council of Jerusalem, I salute thee !" he cried, and threw him- self upon his face at the feet of Phannias. THE llomE DESOLATE. a23 CHAPTER XXIII. 'li ; ' r THE HOUSE DESOLATE. AFTER the suicide of Nero, three emperors passed in rapid succession before the eyes of the Roman people. Driven as it were by the relentless furies, Galba, Otho and Vitcllius snatched at the royal emblems held out to them by a blind fate, then passed onward into death and oblivion, with but a shred of the imperial purple clutched in their stark fingers. During this pageant of royalty and death, Vespa- sian, with a force of sixty thousand men, was stead- ily pursuing his task of reducing the rebellious prov- inces in Palestine. The Galilees had already fallen, with the destruction of all the important cities, whose inhabitants were either slaughtered outright or sold into slavery. The early months of the year 68 beheld the victorious legions advancing into Judaea, crushing in their progress the walled towns one after another with dull, monotonous, re- sistless blows, which filled the unreasoning popu- lace with abject terror. To the cry, " The Romans are coming !" there was now but one answer, "Je- rusalem !" Jerusalem's gates stood open night and day, like ■J! ; m » "I 224 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. I ■ the doors of a furnace making ready for the burn- ing ; into it flocked thousands upon thousands of terrified Jews, men and women, young men and maidens, children and babes, who had opened their innocent eyes upon evil times. Month by month the net was being drawn closer about the doomed city, when news of the deposition of Vitellius reached the army. The legions at once declared Vespasian emperor ; and leaving his son, Titus, to reduce the Jewish capital, the new-made Ctsar ''lI out for Rome. So there was respite for Jerusalem — a year of respite. But the city, like some mad- man gorged with fiery wine, knew it not. In those days there were strange sights to be seen in the temple — that great citadel of Jehovah, which the Jews believed not less eternal than the rock on which it stood. The marble courts and cloisters, which for centuries had echoed to long- drawn chant and stately ritual, and over which the subtile breath of incense yet lingered like a prayer, now resounded to the tread of a* ,.*ed men and to shouts of drunken revelry. In the Court of the Gentiles some fifteen hundred of the Zealot forces were encamped ; their beds, cooking utensils and rough weapons, mixed with heaps of parti-colored plunder, blocked the superb cloister of Herod's portico, and were even piled against the sacred Chcl, which separated this great enclosure from the holier regions within. The Zealots themselves, half drunk aod gorged witi\ Tin: iiorsh: dksoi.ate. 225 food, lay about the marble floors, playing at dice for Roman farthings ; or swaggered in noisy groups around the gates, watching the trembling worship- ers as they passed in and out. For with character- istic tenacity the wretched Jews clung to the empty show of worship in their desolate temple. Kleazar, the Zealot chief, loudly proclaimed him- self a patriot ; and while in secret he cared for nothing but power and riches for himself, outwardly he as- sumed the role of protector of the pious and guard- ian of the temple. "The temple is mine," he said within himself; "if I can hold it I shall presently become a great prince ; in any event the treasure is in my hands." The priests and Levitcs, who had not already fled from the distracted city, stayed for the most part at their posts, and, under the doubtful protec- tion of Kleazar and his band of Sicars, carried on a ghastly observance of religious rites and ceremo- nies in that part of the temple left to their use. Kleazar and his captains had entrenched themselves in the inner chambers of the Court of Israel, hith- erto sacred to the use of the temple officials ; to the vigorous protests of Ananus and others of the priestly party they presented the unanswerable ar- guments of might and possession. It pleased the Zealot chief at this time to assume the state of prince and ruler, which indeed he had the intent to become at no distant day. In token of this resolution he held his councils of war in the IS 1 1' i' 1 226 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. stately chamber of the Sanhedrim, himself occupy- ing the central seat of authority. Before him ap- peared a deputation from the priests bidding him once more, in the name of Jehovah of Hosts and of Matthias III., High Priest of Israel, to withdraw his soldiers from the temple. "Jehovah of Hosts is on my side," quoth Elea- zar, staring fixedly into the face of the spokesman. "As for Matthias, he is no longer high priest. I have said it." *• By what authority — " began the representa- tive of the priests, trembling with rage. " By the same authority with which I now com- mand thee to be smitten on the mouth," said Eleazar — and motioned to one of his henchmen, who forthwith smote the priest across the face with the flat of his sword. " Bind the fellow and set him against yonder pillar," commanded the Zealot. *' He shall carry back news to Ananus." This done, he ordered the list of priests to be fetched from the chamber of records, and the names of the high-priestly family to be stricken from the number. "Now write the names upon tablets," he said, " — every name upon a separate tablet ; cast the tablets into the great vessel of the drink-offering." When this was done after many hours of labor, Eltazar bade the priest, who had been smitten on the mouth, thrust his right hand into the vessel of the drink-offering and take out a tablet. upy- L ap- ' him i and idraw Elea- ;sman. ;st. I ssenta- ^ com- ^/' said ichmcn, ,ce with set him Zealot. [S to be md the stricken he said, cast the Iffering." lof labor, litten on ivessel of THE HOUSE DESOLATE. 227 " I will not," he cried. "What you are about to do is foul sacrilege !" "Strike off the right hand of this man," com- manded Eleazar. And when this was done forth- with, he again addressed the unfortunate priest. '• Thrust now thy left hand into the vessel of the drink-offering, and t'^ke me out a tablet." The man obeyed, half fainting. Eleazar took the tablet. " I read here the name, Phannias, son of Samuel," he said. "Therefore, I, Eleazar, declare this Phannias, son of Samuel, to be High Priest. Fetch him hither." And in this manner was the last high priest of Israel chosen, of the line beginning with Aaron, and descending from father to son through more than seventeen centuries. On that same day the Zealots fetched Phannias, and brought him to the temple. Here is the man from Aphtha, my lord," they said, bringing their prisoner into the presence of Eleazar. Eleazar had been conferring with his captains as to the best method of dislodging the priestly party from the lower city. He had, for the moment, for- gotten the circumstance of the morning. " Who is this fellow that ye thrust into my presence un- bidden ?" he said scowling. , " The high priest, my lord, who was chosen by lot." Eleazar burst into ? loud laugh. " 3y the double ^)!|f m 1 ; |: •|I ■ ■ i \ ' i i 1 ■£' 228 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. veil !" he cried, " I had lost sight of the matter in the multitude of weightier concerns. But the game shall be played out. Here you, priest, stand forth." Phannias wrenched himself loose from the hands that held him. "What is the meaning of this ?" he demanded in a low voice, fixing his eyes upon the Zealot. " A pretty fellow, I swear it !" said Eleazar, turning to one of the bystanders, "tall and well made ; the high-priestly baubles will set well upon those broad shoulders. Go fetch them." Phannias approached a step nearer. '• I will have an answer," he said. "These men have saluted me high priest. If it be a jest, it is blas- phemy. Who art thou ; and by what authority hast thou done this thing?" Eleazar stared into the eyes of his questioner for a full minute before he answered. Then his face grew grave and stern. " Thou mayst well ask, priest," he said; "these are troublous times, and authority belongs to him who can best wield the sword. Know that I am Eleazar, chief in com- mand of them that will have freedom for Israel, — freedom from the galling yoke of the Gentiles ; freedom from the not less intolerable oppression of the priests, who are but swollen leeches upon the foul body of Rome. 'Jerusalem for the Jews!' is our watchword, * The temple for the people !' Thou hast been legally elected high priest in room o' a thief and murderer. Wilt thou be high i '• ^ ■, .f THE HOUSE DESOLATE. 229 priest ; or shall I bid them loose thee in the rabble outside the city walls ?" Phannias was silent. A thousand mad thoughts surged through his bewildered brain. " Thou a high priest, who dost no long»jr believe in the re- ligion of Israel ?" cried his accusing conscience. "Become high priest," whispered his ambition, "and thou becomest a prince — a potentate, who may well demand in marriage the sister of Agrippa!" Above these conflicting thoughts rang the sound- ing words of the Zealot : " Jerusalem for the Jews ! The temple for the people !" Eleazar was watching the face of the young man with a frowning brow. No one knew better than he the farcical nature of the whole affair. It made not the slightest difference to the Zealot chief whether or not there was a high priest ; but it pleased him to trample under foot the waning au- thority of the priestly party, to hurl, as it were, this last insult into the face of the dying hierarcliy. Moreover, he thought to gain popularity with the common people by choosing from among their number this figure-head of a religion, for which he cared less than nothing. "Your answer, priest," he growled impatiently. "Wilt thou be high priest ; or wilt thou not?" " I will be high priest," said Phannias slowly. "Done!" cried Eleazar, bringing his hairy fist down upon his knee. * To the Court of the Priests; the matter shall be finished." .1 i . 230 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. h f , Under a strong guard of Zealot troops the new- made head of the temple was conducted to the Hall of Robes, where he was hastily divested of his peasant's garb and dressed in the sacred garments of the high priest. This service was performed by a half dozen silent Levites, who were in manifest terror of the drawn swords of the Zealots. Phan- nias knew little enough of the sacred office, but he perceived that his investiture was being accom- plished with none of the ceremonial prescribed by law. The blood rushed to his face ; he set his teeth hard. ** I am high priest," he said within himself. " What care I for the law ?" ** Fetch him out," commanded Eleazar briefly. " Let him show himself before the people." Phannias heard the command ; his eyes flashed fire. *• Stand aside," he said imperiously, ** I will go forth to the people." Eleazar involuntarily fell back before the impos- ing figure of priestly authority which swept toward him. This high priest was but a puppet — a toy — a creature of straw, which he himself had set up to be the wanton sport of a moment; yet this "boorish peasant" — as he called him in his heart — ''this ignorant knave," who comprehended so Httle of the blasphemous farce of his investiture as to accept it without question, presented in his magnificent robes a picture of regal grandeur, which awed even the coarse-minded Zealot. The bells and pomegran- ates which bordered the sacred robe clashed mu- THE HOUSE DESOLATE. 231 sically ; the breastplate flashed a twelvefold gleam of dazzling splendor, as Phannias slowly advanced down the hall betwixt the triple rows of soldiers. Eleazar suddenly remembered the strange legend of the Urim and Thummim — the mystical commu- nication of God with his people by means of the sacred stones of the breastplate. What did those flaming stones — each graven with the name of one of the tribes of Israel — signify ? He followed dumbly, while the new-made high priest advanced toward the altar. It was already the ninth hour, the time of the daily evening sacrifice. A double line of priests advanced with meas- ured steps along the cloister which divided the Court of Israel from the Women's Court ; at their head walked Ananus, haughty chief of the high- priestly family. Looking neither to the left nor the right, the procession swept on to a position directly in fro. , of the great altar. The trumpets sounded a thrilling blast ; the great bell of the temple clanged heavily. From the subterranean music rooms beneath the Steps of Degrees the Levites emerged, a maze of snowy figures, chant- ing tne evening hymn in deep resonant voices. Phannias stood alone, his head bowed, his hands clenched beneath the gorgeous robes. The hostile glances of the priests lashed him like the blows of a scourge; thelowmurmur ofthepeoplesoundedinhis ears a thunder of impending doom. A High Priest — but pilloried before the mocking eyes of a nation I r TW'.' 1 r'-'Ti ' 1, ' 'hHi ^■HH •fia ■i.' . i\h'. 4 :;* 1 . , 1 V, 1 , i i 232 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. Two Levites now approached the place in which he stood, preceded by a priest, who bore the golden vessel of incense. On a sudden Phannias remembered the law con- cerning this offering. " If there be one priest in the house of his Father, who hath not yet burned in- cense in the Holy Place, he and no other shall offer the sweet-smelling savor to Jehovaii of Hosts, at the time of the evening sacrifice." He fixed a compelling gaze upon the priest who was about to pass him without obeisance. " Give me the vessel of incense," he said in a loud voice, " — and the censer ; it is the law." The priest stared at the resplendent figure with cold, unseeing eyes and passed by without pause. "Stop !" cried a raucous voice from among the Zealot soldiers, who stood in serried ranks in the Women's Court. " Obey your high priest !' A low, ominous clash of swords followed the words. The priest turned white to the lips ; he stood still in his place, his venomous eyes fastened upon the face of Phannias. "Wilt thou profane the Holy Place, who art both unsanctified and un- clean?" he demanded in a hissing whisper. Phannias looked full into the eyes of his ques- tioner ; he knew him for the man whom he had seen in the subterranean chambers of the temple on the terrible day of his novitiate. "If I be unsanctified and unclean," he answered dully, as one in a dream of anguish, " I am neither thief nor murderer." THE HOUSE DESOLATE. 233 Mechanically he received the golden vessel of incense and the censer of live coals from the hand of the man who would hav^ slain him, scarce hear- ing the frightful words of anathema breathed in his ear. Still in a dream of anguish, he ascended the marble steps of the sanctuary. A number of priests who guarded the entrance made as though they would have seized him ; but he swept by them — passed within the double curtains of Babylonian byssus, gay with broideries of gold and purple and scarlet, and stood, at last, alone in the Holy Place. ! \ ■M i4 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. CHAPTER XXIV. THE LAST HIGH PRIEST. ALONE in the Holy Place ! It was as though he had left his mortal body in the world without and had stepped, a naked soul, inco the presence of the King of kings. All the doubt and anguish, all the fever and turmoil of the past months fell away, even as the rent mantle of the flesh drops from a liberated spirit. The twiliglit and silence of the great vaulted chamber descended with exquisite soothing upon his tortured heart. He fixed his eyes upon the curtained space at the further end of the hall — the Holy of Holies. God was there. He fell upon his knees in a passion of weeping — such blessed weeping as shakes the child, who casts himself upon the breast of his mother, to pour out in that sacred refuge all his sorrow and fear. " Have mercy upon me, who am a sinful man !" he whispered brokenly. " Teach me the truth ! Hast thou sent the promised Deliverer ; and has Israel rejected — slain him ? God of my fathers, show me the truth!" Then it seemed to the last high priest of Israel that one touched him gently upon the shoulder. He THE LAST HIGH PRfEST. 235 raised his eyes, hot with tears, and behold, the vast curtain of the veiled place liad vanished ; in its room he looked into a wild, desolate sky, black with hurrying clouds, thrust through and through with darts of livid lightning. Against this background of cloud and fire loomed a terrible shape — the shape of a cross. Upon the cross hung the figure of a man. Despite the darkness, the face of this man shone out clear and distinct, a face whereon God-love and mortal anguish struggled for the mastery ; then the mortal vanished, and the glory of the Eternal settled down upon it. There were voices now — voices of the prophets, sad and yearn- ing : "The assembly of the wicked have closed in upon me ; they have pierced my hands and my feet !" " Wounded for our transgressions ; bruised for our iniquities :" "Taken from prison and from judgment, who shall declare his generation ; he was cut off out of the land of the living ; for the trans- gression of my people was he stricken." Above and beyond the wailing voices sounded a paean of triumph, sweet and far-reaching — a many- voiced song of angels, dropping — it seemed — from infinite heights of heaven like the light of stars. " Glory to God in he highest ! On earth peace,- -good-will to men !" Then on a sudden the veil dropped with a sound of thunder, and the voices blent in awful harmony : "We are departing hence !" » 236 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. When Phannias came to himself, he beheld once more the great chamber of the Holy Place, dim and bare save for the seven-branched candlestick, the golden table of shew-bread and the altar of incense. Hefore the Holiest Place hung the double curtain of scarlet and purple and white — vast, motionless — veiling emptiness. Upon the floor at his side lay the scattered incense, and the coals from the altar, black and dead. He arose to his feet and passed out before the eyes of the waiting congregation ; there was a look upon his face before which the sneering priests shrank back in terror. He advanced steadily to the sp4ce before the altar and raised his arms high above his head. Instinctively the people fell upon their faces, awaiting the high-priestly benediction. But no empty syllables of blessing fell from those white lips. " Men of Israel, ye have slain your Messiah !" was the sentence which fell from them, each word distinct — terrible, like the blows of a scourge. "The hope of Israel hath gone out, like a lamp that is quenched, and as live coals that perish on the altar ! Hear now the word of the Lord : * When ye fast I will not listen to your cry. When ye offer burnt offering and an obla- tion, I will not accept them. I will consume you by the sword, and by famine, and by pestilence ! Behold, the house which is called by my name is become a den of robbers in your eyes ! I, even I, have seen it. Behold, there shall not be left here THE LAST man viukst. 237 one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down !' " There was silence for an instant — such silence as stalks majestic before the presence of the whirl- wind ; then a long, loud wail burst from a woman's throat. Phannias beheld a surging wave of furious faces, which rose and broke shrieking upon a fringe of spears. He was dragged backward — downward ; the priestly robes were torn from his shoulders. " Accursed of God and man — die. Thrust him through — quickly !" Phannias knew the voice and the face, black with murderous passion ; a mighty strength came upon him ; he rent his assailant with his naked hands and flung his limp body against the foot of the altar. "Well done, priest," cried a harsh voice at his side. "Take the sword — thou wilt need it. — Shut both gates below there ! So, we have beat them back into the Court of the Gentiles ! Now slay every priest and Levite within ; the knaves will betray us else !" The Zealot chief turned upon Phannias with an oath. " I was minded to slay thee also, but I have spared thee, since thou hast shown thyself an honest enemy to these whining coward >. Come, off with the priestly gauds, or I cannot save thee from the swords of the Sicars." , With his own hands Eleazar stripped off the breastplate and ephod, casting them with a shud- Il ' m 2r^ THE CROSS TnrcMprrANT. dcring curse upon the smouldcrinjr fire of the altar. " They will be wanted no more if what thou saidst be true," he fjrowled. " liut wliy saidst thou it? Thy words were as coals of fire flun<; upon chaff." Phannias shook his head. " Nay, I know not," he said dully. " 'Twas the stones yonder ; they are accursed ! Look you, if the temple be no longer a temple it is a citadel and mine. Go now ; guard the Gate Beautiful." Drawn sword in hand, Phannias made his way through the Gate of Nicanor, down the Steps of Degrees, slippery with blood and heaped with dead bodies, into the Court of the Women. Frightful scenes were taking place here ; the Zealot soldiers had beat back the assault of the people led by the priests, and had finally succeeded in closing the heavy brazen doors. Now they were carrying out the commands of their chief, hunting down and killing without mercy the wretched priests and Lc- i^ites who had been shut into the sacred enclosure. Cries of mercy, shrieks, curses, execrations arose from the cloistered courts and chambers where the pursued had taken a last vain refuge. Phannias beheld with horror the dead bodies of women and children mixed with the slain. From under one of the great treasure chests which stood on either side of the cloister, a baby crawled, screaming for its mother. A Sicar reached toward Till': LAST ma If V HI EST 2\0 it with .1 swoop of his crooked sword. Phannias snatched the cliild unscathed from beneath the blade and darted away amon^ the cloisters. "To the Gate Beautiful!" he shouted. •'De- fend the ^ate !" A band of soldiers who were busy breaking open the door of a chamber in the court of the sacri- ficial wood paused at sound of the cry ; then they abandoned their task and hurried away. Phannias stared helplessly at the burden in his arms ; the child looked up into his face and laughed aloud. '• I must save thee, little one," he mur- mured, " — but how?" He looked despairingly about him, recognizing with a throb of gratitucl the spot where he had labored with his hands in the first days of his ser- vice in the temple. " Jachin !" he called aloud. A faint voice answered his cry ; then the head of the old priest was thrust cautiously out from be- hind a pile of knotted sticks. " Praise be to Jeho- vah, it is thou, Nazarite ! Come, thou art a lusty fellow and canst protect me. If they are gone we will get us down to a place of safety ; I know the way." ** Take thou the child — for the love of God, and get thee down !" cried Phannias, and rushed away toward the gate. He had now but one desire, and that was to escape from the desecrated temple. Jachin stared at the babe, which again wept pit- eously. •* By the stones of the breastplate !" he I \ '■':rm iiif '" ', 240 THE CBOSS TRIUMPHANT. muttered, " shall I endanger my life for a crying brat ?" Turning his back upon the child he plunged among the heapcd-up wood of the sacrifices. " God of the sanctuary, remember thou the years of my faithful service !" he ejaculated, making obeisance toward the altar — and disappeared down a hidden stairway into the depths. As for the babe, it shortly found its mother. For the innocent, death is but a siiigle step from terror into joy. THE SUOPKEEPEH OF THE AGRA, 241 '' I CHAPTER XXV. THE SHOPKEEPER OF THE AGRA. THE times were assuiedly evil ; all men de- clared it ; yet in spite of the times — or per- haps because of them, Ezra Ben Ethan, shrewd, cautious, far-seeing, was doing a thriving business. He chuckled to himself often in these days, and rubbed his dry withered palms together with an air of stealthy enjoyment. There had been a time, and that not many years back, when the little shop close by the Old Wall had been of the humblest. Few pilgrims had chosen to purchase their Pass- over bread or their oil cakes for the meat-offering of Ben Ethan. They had preferred rather to lay in their supplies of these commodities on the tem- ple platform, where a multitude of rich and pros- perous merchants offered a dazzling variety of sac- rificial goods ; all guaranteed to be legally clean, and therefore of a certainty acceptable to that Je- hovah of Hosts whose shining temple looked down in solemn grandeur on the bustling thoroughfares at its feet. Formerly Ben Ethan had never {massed through these rich market places of th^ ^^gra without ex- periencing a fierce pang of envy. He hated the 16 wm ■> , ! ■■ M mi 242 THE CilOSS TRIUMPHANT. sleek merchants who lolled indolently behind their stalls, scarce troubling themselves to cry their goods to the passers-by. Times were changed in- deed ! The fierce soldiers of the Tyrant and the Zealot — as John of Gischala and Kleazar had come to be called, had wasted all that prosperous district with fire and the sword. The sleek merchants had disappeared to a man. Some had fled at the first outbreak of the internecine warfare ; others, braver or more greedy of gain, had stuck to their business, only to be stripped of all they possessed ; and later to lie unburied, save for the smoking ruins of their houses. •'Jehovah is just!" ejaculated Ben Ethan, piously rending his garments in token of his grief at this disaster. " He abaseth the proud and he also set- teth up the humble ; blessed be liis holy name ." As for the small shabby booth near the gate Miphkad, its owner took good care that there should be no unseemly display to tempt the cupid- ity of the soldiers ; a paltry basket of cakes, a bottle of oil, perchance ; a heap of mouldy olives. " It is all I have, patriots !" he would cry, lifting his lean shoulders and spreading abroad his hands. *' All that I have — Jehovah be my witness ! but such as it is, honored defenders of Jerusalem, you are kindly welcome to it !" And the marauders, sleek with stolen provender and wine, swore with maudlin generosity that Ben Ethan was an honest man and should not be dis- THE SHOPKEEPER OF THE AGRA, 243 turbed in his business. After a time, certain of these worthies found the obscure shop a convenient place of resort. One could always be certain of a skin of good wine there, and the baskets of wheaten cakes were never empty. Little by little it became also the custom to entrust the shopkeeper with certain valuable bits of plunder ; which indeed a diligent man could accumulate with such ease and rapidity that the very abundance became at times a matter of embarrassment, it is certain that the owner of a particularly desirable article was fre- quently forced to exchange his booty for a dagger- thrust in the back, a thing which no man coveted. Ben Ethan trembled at first under the load of his new eases and responsibilities. It was, for ex- ample, far from pleasant for a law-observing and orderly Jew to be forced to witness the killing of a m?.n in his very presence ; and this happened not infrequently when the wine was strong and booty plenty. But there are two sides to every matter — if one will but take the trouble to reflect ; and no philosopher of them all knew better than Ben Ethan that a calamity turned inside out oftentimes displays a blessing. He was therefore not slow to observe that in c.ise a man quitted Jerusalem thus suddenly, neither he nor another ever inquired for his prop- erty. And so it came to pass that he shortly found himself the undisputed possessor of a very hand- some collection of silver cups, plates, candlesticks, jewels, chains, and the like ; all of which he be- ■ «■• 1- '!' '•4 k\ ii ,,.■ 344 THE CBOSS TRIUMPHANT. stowed for safe keeping in certain excavations under- neath his house, the secrets of which were known to no other but himself. There was one person in the house of Ben Ethan who regarded these enlargemjnts of his interests with undisguised alarm and anxiety ; this person was his daughter, Merodah. " Thou art a woman — which is to say a fool !" observed the old man sententiously, when the girl besought him with tears to fly the distracted city. " Have I lived in poverty all my days to turn my back upon plenty when it is within my grasp? Get thee to thy spinning and hold thy chattering tongue." Later he presented her with a richly embroidered robe, which a soldier had flung down in a corner of the shop and forgotten. But Merodah, observ- ing a jagged rent, deeply dyed about its edges in the folds which had lain across the wearer's breast, only shrank away aghast, her dark eyes fixed and staring. " What now, woman !" cried Ben Ethan angrily. "Art thou not pleased with the gift? A rent — eh ? what then ; can it not be sewn and the garment purified ? One must be zealous in these days to keep one's accounts straight with Jehovah !" By which it will be observed that Ben Ethan had by no means forgotten his religion ; indeed his prayers, oblations and vows had only grown more numerous and fervent as the demands upon his 1 1. \ THE ISHOPKEEPEH OF THE AGRA. 245 under- known I Ethan nterests person a fool r the girl ;ed city, turn my T grasp? hattering broidered a corner ^ observ- edges in 's breast, Ifixed and angrily, lent — eh ? garment [e days to I" • :than had ideed his )wn more I upon his piety increased. It was truly a difficult task for one to keep himself undefiled and walking orderly after the law, when the sluggish current in the gut- ters ran foul with blood, and the odor of corruption tainted the very air one breathed ; but Ben Ethan accomplished it to his satisfaction. "Jehovah will make allowance for these evil times," he reflected, recalling with gratification the fact that King David and his soldiers were once reduced to the impious extremity of devouring the shew-bread from off the altar. It was rumored that things even more terrible had taken place of late in the temple, where Eleazar, the Zealot chief, and his dissolute soldiers held high carnival in the intervals of battle ; but he, Ben Ethan, was surely not responsible for the misdeeds of others. Between whiles, when his patrons were busy with warfare or engaged in the accumulation of plunder, Ben Ethan pursued the legitimate lines of his busi- ness with energy and discretion. The prices of grain ran ruinously high, but notwithstanding this fact hundreds of bags of wheat and barley found a snug resting place in the cellars of the house by the gate. Ben Ethan contrived that for the most part this grain should be delivered under cover of the dark- ness. For more reasons than one, Jie was unwill- ing that his neighbors should be aware of these transactions. "It is written thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods," he said righteously. " Be- y ■^M 246 THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT. i: hold a wise man boasteth not himself; nor will he tempt his neighbor to sin by displaying his goods before the eyes of them which lack." As the time for the Paschal offering drew on, he became more and more zealous in his pious observ- ances. Also, he ventured to display in the front of his shop a large quantity of Passover bread, tied up with bunches of bitter herbs ; with a brave show of oil cakes, raisin wine, baskets of roasted grain, and other foods and condiments suited to the holy season. Never were the pilgrims more numerous or more devout, thought Ben Ethan. They poured throu