^\k ^. ■iu ^^\ k**^. p^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET ;MT-3) / o /A >^ -^^<5 1.0 LI 1.25 WIIIM 1125 li iU U. ilM 1^ IM I.S III! U 11.6 Pm ^ <$» >^ ^^/J CT J^ >^ ^> -ii °w Photographic Sciences (brporation #> ^^v •o>^ ■1>^ ^--A V ^ 2017 Entered aceordin<< to Act of the Parliament ot Canada, in the year one thousand ei«;ht hundred and ninety five, h.s C. J. MusHON, at the Department of Agriculture. 'HT' ■tt*f>Wff*,i'^^^aKtttiM^¥<^, PREFACE In offering this oriental story in book form to the reading public I do so in the hope that it may entertain and help to make leisure hours pass pleasantly. This was my purpose when it appeared as a serial I con- fess 1 had no other in writing the tale. To entertain is the mission of fiction. All else that it may accomplish is so much extra, in the way of good measure— and judging from the success of Zerola of Nazareth in the columns of Dr. Talmage's great paper, The Christian Herald, there seems every reason to believe that this may be considf arable. In the present decade of realism and natural- ism, of the nasty sort, there is undoubtedly a place in the hearts of thousands of people for wholesome romance which will arouse and hold the attention by means of methods that are admirable. The demand is for no- vels that are intensely human, painting scenes that are vivid, events that are dramatic - all animated by characters that seem to be actual men and women moved by desires and passions similar to our own. Surely this can be done without going for material and color to certain sides of life that are as well left to those whose pro- fession it is to heal or to bury. This mod- ern literary creed does not necessarily imply any ethical or didactic motives whatever. These are for persons engaged in other spheres. Upon the above theory I have written Zerola op Nazareth. As to the critics. I ask them to be mer- ciful, though not patronizing. I acknow- ledge that this is my first effort in fiction e ■■I I r«.If.<»,,*qj|, and promise that I shall try to do better in the future. As to my noin de plume. The name on the title page is not the one used in the Nev/ York journal, although after careful revision the story is essentially the same. With every good wish for the enjoyment of those who, I trust, may be added to the number of Zerola's friends, I leave the east- ern story to those generous people for whom it was written — the western public. Louie Barron. November, 1895. «tp'<»»*!M«|;^, ■'1 { fcirf, ,H'i .♦ .. ■ *ij;,ft',t ;,-, '',,-<• |'ii*';'|)gi :.» »»i«2 chaptp:r XVIII. WHIRLING IN WILD CAROUSAL - - - - 140 chapter XIX. DEPARTING ^^^ CHAPTER XX. A BRIDAL MORNING - - - ' - J 57 m . t.M«»»W«lfH^ ZEROLA OF NAZARETH CHAPTER T. CUPID IN THE OIllKNT Twilight in Palestine. In the sky few stars yet shining. Streaks of color golden and roseate still lingering in the glowing west. An olive grove in Nazareth. At one end of it a large house resembling in architecture those of Egypt. Here a number of stately palms were waving. F^ehind sonio of the trees its swarthy owner was standing, concealed and watching. It was blossom time. All around the grove were gardens of purple lilies and bushes of all tints of roses Upon tl>em in tlie breeze the white olive flowers were dropping like a shower of soft warm rain. "Come," said Thaeon, taking his compan- ion's hand, "we should be going now," ^tfffi iiifiJ '' On our coming happiness," added Thaeon, smiling and kissing her again. So they hastened homeward. Never be- fore had the road seemed so short as it did to these two that night, when they walked together under the shining stars, with open hearts and beamiog eyes. As they neared the dwelling of Zerola's mother, two figures crossed their path ; one that of a tall stalwart man, the other that of a little dwarf-boy. "Karmes and Sati," muttered Thaeon " the Egyptian and the imp. that we should meet them." ^t IS strange i«*»»«»»»«»f»^ 10 :5 i I ^.?^ I Th^^ older went on, th^ younger waited. As Thaeon and Zerola approaclied, he said, performing an obsecifuious salaam : '•' My master, Karraes, the noble Egypt- ian, whose vast riches are hidden in the treasure pyramids along the banks of his native Nile, bids me ask the gracious Zerola to speak with him. He awaits her pleasure." A flash of indignation gleamed on the girl's countenance. But she rejoined simply and calmly : ' Zerola will not come." As the boy turned and walked quickly away Karmes met him. " What message?" he queried, "what mes- sage ? " In a moment he knew the reply. In an- other the dwarf was running back along the path.' "Zerola!" he called. No answer. "Zerola!" The two heard him and they walked more slowl3\ Coming up the dwarf stepped beside the young woman and sneered : " My master says, let her remember this liour. From now on Zerola carriers the curse of Kaimes. Therefore, let her rememb(»r ' 1^,.^^^ tM«r»^'>i^. 11 this }iour yoar.s to come ! He swears that thou wilt yet be his unpitied slave. And when he is tired of thy beauty, so corrupt shall be thy blackened soul that compared with it my Ethiopian skin will be as white as I iidian pearls and thou shalt be glad to crouch in some dark hiding-place amongst the outcas' and the vile and die accursed — cursed with the curse of Karmes. Ay, says my master : Let her remember this hour years to come ! " Thaeon would have stopped this impetuous torrent, but the girl put up her hand and checked the impulse. They walked onward, the imp following. At length Zerola said : *' Sati, go tell yuur master Zerola neither likes nor fears him. Go ! " " So you play the tigress Ha, ha— we laugh at you ! " '' Away ! " The dwarf sped back and soon was ascend- ing the steps of the old house in the palm grove, where Karmes awaited l.im. A few questions were asked, and he knew all. What would he do next ? Jt was no secret in the village that Karmes was a man of cunning and intricate ways : no principle of ethics or religion ever restrained his desire or his dagger. ft; ■ •^ 12 *' Let li(;r iviiieniber this hour years to come!" "What," Thaeoii asked himself, " couJd he mean ?" Only the future would reveal the mystery of these ominous words. iXs they crossed the threshold of Zerola's home in Nazareth that night, both Thaeon and the girl felt that a shadow had come over their lives -and it was the shadow of the Egyptian. . inmi'imt^ CHAPTER II SETTING THE NETS Four days went by, days of liappiness. Again it was ev^ening. At the house of Zerohi's father, all was music and light and joy, for it was the night of the betrothal feast. In the East, especially in ancient times, betrothal was a ceremony of nearly as much gladness and solemnity and almost as sacred- ly binding in its obligations and vows as marriage. Among the Hebrews, this relation was usually determined by the parents or brothers without consulting the parties until they came to be betrothed, and often while the youth and maiden were mere children. But from this national custom Thaeon and Zerola departed, in at least one respect. Their marriage was to be the result of two minds in communion and two hearts in love. They had chosen each other. The formal betrothal was usually performed a year be- fore marriage, either in writing or by a piece of silver given to the espoused in the presence of witnesses, as a pledge of their mutual en- 14 I '1 ^agenieuts. It .somotinios happened that a regular' cfintratt was made; in which tho bride^iooin was ))Oun(l to provide a certain sum of money as liis l)ride s portion. From tlie time of espousal, tlie woman was consid- ered as the lawful wife of him to whom she was atiianced. At the same hour in which tlie betrothal rejoicings were taking place in Zerola's home, a very different scene was in progress at the mansion of the Egyptian. Karmes had learned of the j)roposed departure of Zerola for Jerusalem, and had matured a scheme which he felt certain would result in the girl being delivered into his hands. He was now engaged in preparing instructions for the guidance of his chief steward during his ab- sence. Looking up a moment he said to his attendant : " 8ati, go to the stables and see how soon the caravan will be ready to start." Then he hurriedly resumed his writing on the wax tablet. He had determined to send a swift messenger on before, thinking that certain matters would thereby be expedited. Looking up again he inquired where the man was. Just then the messenger entered, equipped for the journey. >**.»**** * >ffT «t*'v, in I 1 that a lich th(^ , certain From ; coiisul- loni she etrothal 's home, IS at the les had f Zero! a scheme the girl ^vas now for the his ab- d to his ovv soon iting on to send ig that )edited. ihe man ntered. •'You start to-night ? " asked Karmes. " Tn an hour," wtis the respectful answer. " This letter," and he handed the mess- enger a small scroll, "take at once to Saul of Tarsus. lie lives not far from the palace of Joseph Caiaphas, the High Priest, which is near the temple." " T will obey your wishes." *' This to Corbulo, general jf the legions. You will easily ascertain his place of resid- ence. He is coming from Rome to visit Pilate." "I will." " And this to my sister in Rome. Give it, with that," and he tossed the man a small bag of shekels. '* To the captain of the first Egyptian ship bound for the Imperial City." The listener bowed submissively. *' And now, off with all speed ! " The messenger disappeared, and almost at the same moment Sati entered the chamber " The camel driver bids me tell our master that they are ready to start at his command." " That is well." "What is Karmes' pleasure?" asked the dwarf. The Egyptian thought a moment, then re- sponded : "We start for Jerusalem in the morning at sunrise." »»«*'>#»«-«'^ i ■ i i 1i ' < c: • ' H !■ I ' In i! !l< 16 About two days after this, the oaiiiels and their riders arrived at their destination in the Holy City, and immediately Karmes be- gan setting the nets, as the fowler sets iiis snare for the unsuspecting bird. To a dwelling close to the palace of Herod the Great, he first took his way. "Good morning, Karmes," was the sjiluta- tion of the master of the house. " The noble Arni is well, I hope." " Excellent well, I thank you." "lam indeed glad," was the Egyptian's urbane reply. "You have just arrived ?'' " Our caravan came into the city last night." " No doubt after wandering through an exceedingly pleasant wilderness." Tlie room in which they sat was adorned most luxuriously with all that the East could furnish to please the eye and charm the im- agination. " Well, Arni, how hums our Jewish hive to-day ? " " Most noisily. I have not heard such buzzing since that day you caught the imp tending his bee.s on the mountains of Ethi- opia." .«,*rt*(»v4*««>fe' 17 lels and ition in lues be- sets his t Herod saluta- yp turn's ty last »ugb an idorned st could the im- Lsh hive rd such the imp )t' Ethi- "Tliey are fond of honey." " And of blood." • "But leave their stings in the wound." ' "Therefore by each encounter they are the more unarmed." " And the more prepared for us crocodiles of the Nile to eat them up." " Ha, ha, Karmes, well said ! And we will snap our huge a?id hungry jaws at the very smell of such a banquet. Wherever the carcass is, there will the " " The crocodiles be gathered tt)gether," in- terrupted the elder with a sinister twinkle in his black eyes. " But we must be indeed watchful " " Your reason ? " " Lest the Roman eagles may swoop down before us." " An eagle's wing may be quicker than a crocodile's claw, but a crocodile's belly is larger than an eagle's body." " Ha, ha, %i your old game ! " laughed Arni. The door of the chamber opened, and a servitor entered beai'ing a letter addressed to Karmes. The Egyptain took it, br-oko open the seal liastily, and read : k s i««af*.«^- r j, la 1!! ■11 i 1.1 'l! J ' ' Mil 111! ' 1 'if iPi *' Saul to Karmes : " Most noble friend, Greeting. ** The Sanhedrim meets to-day at the ninth hour in the sacred court south-east of the temple. *' Fail not to be witbrn call. " Farewell, " Saul." Crumpling up tliis letter in his hand, the Egyptain explained with gr ^ater detail to his fellow-countryman, )iis desire and plans to obtain possession of Zerola. The two men had been companions in many a plot, and usually galloped their horses — or donkeys — to success. Now they glanced at each other, and smiled vc:;ry knowingly. An acorn looks little, but it contains a whole forest. **I suppose," continued Arni, '' this Zerola must be fair to look upon?" ^' Most pleasant, indeed," responded Kar- mes. " Rivaling even the bewitching little black- eyed nymphs of Egypt?" " Surpasj-ing them." .. " Oh, Karmes ! " "Too true, Arni." " What a flame the Jewess has lighted in your heart." 19 e ninth of the >j VUL. ,nd, the il to his 5lans to vo men lot, and ikeys — h other, •n looks 5 Zero! a ;d Kar- e black- lited in " True too, Arni." " Why, Karrnes ! " ; ' 1 " Arni,'' he went on, rising, " whether in the temples of the Nile, in the bazaars of the Euphrates or in the palaces of the Tiber, I have never beheld a girl, woman or goddess of such wondrous l)eauty as this simple but enchanting Zerola of ISTazareth." 'Mio! Karrnes," laughed Arni, "I fear tliis flame of yours will out-fire even the con- Hagr-ation of Troy." "Or of Alexandria when Antony was there," suggested Karrnes. " But enough, Arni, let us to another subject." " First, however, let me say : beware, lest you pay too many pearls for your torch." " What do you mean ? " "This, Saul would exalt the priest at the expense of the prince. Though I regard both these as foes— twin vultures, hatched from the same egg— yet I am not forgetful that Karmes is of regal lineage." "Yes." "And your royal sister an exile in Rome." "What then?" Well, Saul is a Jew, so are his masters. Tiberius is a Roi.,c.n, so are his minions." "Honest Arni '" 20 *' And Egypt's true dynasty is a tree which will grow only when watered by tlie blood of Jews and Romans ! " " Ah, right ! But not so fast, you will have to " Knock — knock. *' Enter, Siti." The imp appeared in tlie doorway and an- nounced that a scholar of Tarsus requ(^sted entrance. In a moment more the distinguish- ed visitor was ushei'ed in. *' Welcome, 8aul," said Karmes, extending his hand. " Welcome," repeated Arni. cordially. " Good morrow, noble friends," responded the cultured Jew. Immediately they proceeded to discuss the business in hand, whicn on the Egyptian's part concerned Zerola, and on the Hebrew's, the suppressing of Christianity. Widely dif- ferent purposes tliese, yet the aim and end of both was the same : destruction of life and honor. Jt was now Karmes' self-imposed and not very difficult task to persuade Saul that it would be advantageous to dispose o*' the youth Thaeon. Arni saw that they would prefer to be aione ; so he arose, muttering cynically as he went out : , tM«4)«lushes. neither . The - well, h(3 pic- ple un- ^n des- But, if as we 3e two in was the PrjetoriuH), *' that Zerola will be sen- tenced to be sold as a slave." " My slave ? " " By first right of purchase." " It is agreed." "Then, farewell," said Saul. " Farewell," answered Karmes. " But, re- member, to-morrow at the Damascus gate. Farewell." " I shall remember." And they parted for the night. taking armes, (( To- e sun )amas- " you wards M CHAPTER III. hidi)p:n by the draperies " O CoRiiULO, I have such a pretty surprise for you ! " " A request ? " was the genial answer. Wives in the first century were often quite as astonishing and fully as roguish as are those delightful creatures in the nineteenth. " No, a gift." *'For me, Niane ? " "Yes, my husband, for you." ** You have always been so good to me sweetheart. J]ut tell me of it." "8ee if you can guess." " Oh, I am sure I could not." " Try and see." " A span of white Ara})ians," ventured the general. "Why, Corbulo, your stables are full of the shapeliest prancera already." " A new gilded galley ? " "No." • " Another chariot ? " "When yours are already the envy of every patrician in Rome." 25 They wore walking along tb(^ banks of the historic Tiber. It was evening. Those thou- sands of luminous messengers in heaven were shining as tliey appear to know how to gleam only in a sky that bends over old romantic Italy. The ripples on the water seemed to be (lirting with the stars. " What can the gift l>e, Niane ?" the Ro- man asked again. " Though the treasures you have mentioned may be splendid," she resj)onded, "it is more beautiful than any of them " " But not more precious than this," lifting up the sword dangling at his sid(!, and point- ing to the hilt. " Look, Niane, here is the pearl you gave me whefi 1 won my first bat- tle." " A pretty jewel, my own." " And white as the giver's heart," was her husband's fond response. " And lovingly you have cherished both," added Niane. Then the shadows hid something. The general and his wife belonged to that army a-march on the matrimonial pilgrim.age, who, as the years go by, remain lovers still. Would that their number were legion ! It was alway a puzzle for them to understand those mis- 26 gu'dod niaiifKus who set sail oti tin; nuptial sea, and aio continually Hndingsf)m(! rock on which to split, and \vf(»ck two lives. " But toll nit!, Corhulo," came a question in a moment, " must you really go away so soon?" *' I fear it, Niane. Tiberius desires me to hasten to Jerusah'in for tlu; puipos(5 of con- consulting wi h Pihite." " Concerning some new concjuest for the (^ueen of the Seven Hills— why cannot you soldiers rein in your ambition ? " ''It is not extension of Imperial sway this time." "What then?" " Keeping what we have already won. The Emperor has heard peculiar rumours of the new religion, so lately arisen in Pales- tine." " Tiberius listened to these strange re- ports ? " " For a long time they have been like wasps in his ears " "Hurely he does not fear the Nazarene?" " No, despises him. As well might a wolf or a lion dread a caterpillar." '' But—" " Ay, Niane, that fated word — but ! Tibe- ■■*u.. •t/*-*"*'. »M.'«''*?«t>»*-ffi 27 lius foresees Uiat out of the wood of the GaHlean's cross, his followers may build a throne." " To rule—" " The world ! " " Impossible," answered the woman, more to learn her husband's opinion than to ex- press her own. " Yet not improbable. Impossible ? Did you say impossible 1 Then I would answer, yes— impossible, as for an eagle to fly, as for a dolphin to swim, as for a wave to roll. Live three hundred years, and you will see the successors of the apostles swayng scep- tres and wearing crowns." " Come, come, Corbulo. You make an ex- cellent orator for the new cause. Perhaps some day you may do battle in forum or in palace with Saul of Tarsus or son:e other famous foe." " Perhaps, Niane, this same Saul of Tarsus may be found fighting on the other side." "Advocating the religion of the Naza- rene?" » "Yes." " Never ! " " Stranger things have happened." "Well, according to that logic, my hus- band is quite likely to " 28 **Not T, Do not say it, Niaiie. T am too much attaclietl to tlie gods of Home."' "Why so, Corhulo?" " Their blood is in our nation's arteries." "To .taint them?" "No. To animate them, to vivify, to en- rich, to inspire. At least so say the priests. Thou,i(h at times I am almost prepared to adnut that you have uttered the truth. But enough, my wife. Here is our chariot wait- ing. Let me assist you to step in." After a few minutes they were on the way homev/ard. Hovv^ exhilarating was such a ride ! No modern exercise is one quarter so exciting or so fascinating. Corbulo was passionately fond of it and Niane was in full sympathy. The general was noted in the city for his superb horses and his brilliant equipages. He was a known admirer of any- thing — man, woman, or animal — that was spirited. Away they went, like the sweep of a gold- en cloud. Get out of the way or the chariot will roll over you. The galloping Aral)ians were soon drawn up in front of their master's p.'dxce. Servitors were swinging open the great iron gates. In a few seconds more Corbulo and Niane were walking up the ,;♦«,..<. »«.«i"f?.'-.|s;^". 20 m marble sU^ps and were seated in a luxurious mom vvithin. "And take this also," added their mistress to the slaves who were removing some of her tlowing robes. " T think,'' said the general, addressing his wife, "that when I go^ to Palestine I shall endeavor to obtain some pretty Jewess as slave for you, Niane. I have been told they are unusually graceful." " I have often wished for one, Corbulo. T, too, have heard they are lovely." '• Then I shall look for some Hebrew girl, well-born, well-bred, well-formed — to be friend as well as slave.' " Who can read to me, sing to me, talk to me. }} " And play for you, on lute or harp." '• How^ pleasant " "I shall diligently search for such a Jewess." " And send her to me as a gift." " Yes, a memento, a souvenir of my visit to Palestine. But your gift, Niane — have you forgotten ? " " What, Corbulo ? " " The surprise you spoke of when we were walking an hour ago along tlie banks of the Tiber." 30 (( Oil, I remember — the time vou took two cherries when I only meant you might have one," his wife added, smiling. " They were dropping from your lips and I — " he stoj^ped a moment, looking into her bright eyes. ' '* Well, I am waiting to hear your inno- cent little explanation." " I only caught them as they fell." " So I suppose I shall have to pardon you. But come, Corbulo, it is upstairs." The more magnificent mansions in ancient Home had two and even three stories. On the second was usually situated the main dining-room, an apartment always adorned with the costly crciations of artist and sculp- tor. For here were held the banquets. Up the broad staircase with its bronze balus- trade Niane and her husband proceeded to this chamber. All around were paintings and statues, upon which the tapers threw a soft weird glow. " Here is my surprise," she said, taking hold of some princely Tyrian draperies to di'aw them aside and disclose the subject of their conversation. " A picture ! " exclaimed Corbulo. '* Is it a landscape ? " »»awds to gather, unless attracted by some unusual occurrence. " Perhaps," she conjectured, " it may be one of the imperial legions now stationed at Palestine, leaving Jerusalem for C?esarea, or some other town or city of the empire." Then she stood still a moment and lis- tened. Shout! Yell! Curse! " No, it cannot be," she reasoned, half aloud ; " that is not the measured tramp of soldiery." 4:{ H I *' By Eros, it is not ! " was muttered in lier hearing, as a man rushed past. " It is the angry roar of a mob." " Who can he be ? " forgetting herself, slightly excited. " Karmes I " was hissed into her ear. And another man hurried by. '* The Egytian and his leopard's paw, Arni," remarked Zerola beneath her breath, as the two disappeared in the throngs. Still the crowds were hurrying toward the Gate. The girl stopped to let them pass through before she reached it. Wild venge-* ful cries were making the turbulence more intense. ' iie young Jewess knew that there were in that crowd fathers whose daughters, distained and dishonored, were dying in the dungeons of the monsters on the Seven Hills ; mothers, whose sons, captured and enslaved, were carrying spears in Cu'sar's crimsoned ranks ; maidens, whose lovers were groaning that very morning in the cut- ting fetters of Herod. *' Can it be," she tried to guess, " that at last the bitter wrongs have become too heavy to be borne, and my countrymen, feeling that noble death is preferable to slow de- struction, are rushing to strike one mad- f-fii ^- 'H !• i! \'^^'.l 'i; 41 clened blow ? Oppression is the seed of revo- lution." But it was a guess drawn at a venture. The arrow whir'.zed above the mark. Not the cry of despairing patroitism did Zerola liear. " Death to the Nazarenes ! " " All of them ! "" " Stone them ! " " Long live Saul of Tarsus ! " Her doubts as to what was the meaning of this tumult were now gone. The girl cowered in the shadow of the gate to pray for the sufferers, whoever tliev might be. Her htart bled for them, and her words ascended in tender pleading to the Father of man- kind ; but what would have been her thoughts and cries if she had known that there was only one suflferer— and seen his face ! Priests, aristocrats, zealots, bigots, all — how they laughed in fiendish glee ! "Look at him !" *' His just reward," added a Pharisee, pointiag the finger of scorn at a prisoner who, manacled at wrist and ankle, was being dragged outside the Gate. *' ISee the dust and blood upon his face " ji^ .k::'.,s .'Jii'B-" 45 '* Tliaeon will be a warning to others of the nest," remarked or of the priests. " Stephen scarcely imagined," continued a third, " that the apple of his eye would be plucked out of this life so quickly." ** Corrupt father and corrupt son," came from another of the Pharisees, sarcastically. Outside the Gate the crowd halt, pressing round thu victiDi, whom they strike and spit upon ; then it separates, and great heavy stones are hurled at the youth. He is pros- trate now. The rocky hail ceases. " He is dead ! " shout several, simultane- ously. ^'No!" " Watch him ! " " He stirs — he rises ! " " The wretch is kneeling." The young man's eyes are raised heaven- ward, and the petition of his dying father leaves his lips : " Lord lay not this sin to their charge. O Jesu receive my spirit." And wrapping his loose upper garment around his face and head, he falls in his own bloc. Has death come ? No. A quiver of the limbs and a palpitation of the body show that the young life is still clinging. 4(} ^■~% " Death to the Nazareiie ! " And theie is determination in the cry. In it hundreds unite. ' . • ^ " Death to the Nazarene ! " ' '*The scorpion!" . ' ,. * " The traitor ! " ' ' '": " To our race — " "And to our Ood !" " Away with liim ! " "The cur!" • . • " Crucify him ! " One of the crowd raises a great stone. . " Hurl it ! " shout many of tlie populace. " No," another man interposes. " Let alone. It is too easy a death for one so false. Let him suffer, let him writhe ! " " And leave him 1 " - "Yes." "So shall his Hesh be carrion for vultures." " And his bones bleach — rot in the scorch- ing sun ! jj The first nodded his head and laughed. Then the five stood witli the others feasting tlieir eyes on the dying struggles of the young martyr. A disturbance was noted on the outskirts of the crowd, and a woman's pleading voice was heard. ym ■(.-.J'^-1 47 '* What is it 1 " asked a number of eager voices. "A woman. Back ! " " Room for the woman ! " Crack — plash ! A priest struck an earthenware vessel from her hand. " She brought water for the Nazarene dog to lap ! " rang out the voice of an Egyptian. And it was the voice of Karmes. " She, too, is a blasphemer," answered a Jew. " Let her die with him ! " commanded a few of the Pharisees, pointing at the youth. " And mingle her blood with the water she brought," rejoined one of them. Cries of one and another kind issued from various quarters of the multitude. Karmes, standing in the first ranks and recognizing the woman as Zerola, is loudest in the clamor for her punishment. But he nevertheless works his way through the throng, and keeps her from bodily injury. Saul also, at a signal fro. , the Egyptian, made his way to her side. The keen piercing gaze of the great leader, under which in fu- ture years many would quail, was fixed on the girl's countenance, and seemed to be read- u 'r^mmv^iijM.^:-}^:^^^ m 48 ing her soul. But as Zerola glanced from Saul of Tarsus to the form of the martyr, whom, his face being covered with his mantle, a new one, she did not know as her lover, she suddenly became resolute and defiant as she said in a voice tremulous with passion barely controlled : " You speak of a blasphemer ' I do not know where you will find one. But wait. Perhaps I can tell you. Dogs of that kind often carry scrolls, and skulk in crowns. Therefore, go look in the Temple or the Pa- lace ! But possibly I mistake your meaning. Blasphemer 1 If it is to have a human heart and a woman's soul, if it is to be a follower of the Nazarene whom ye despise and cruci- fied, then I am a blasphemer ! You priests, who only break the commandments you pro- fess to keep, look upon the bleeding body of your Ijrother, and behold in it the cruelty and the impotency of your corpse-like creeds. For even now the man whose blood is on your hands and sacred robes, is with that God whose servants ye kill as did your fath- ers, and whose laws ye blaspheme ! " Such words, at such a time, in such an age, could have only one result. The soldiers im- mediately received their orders : the fetters 'fttrt^min 'm'm ■ 49 were soon fastened upon the ankles and wrists of the captive girl, and ehe was dragged in disgrace through the streets of Jerusalem. The Egyptian followed the soldiers, keep- ing his black eyes on the maiden prisoner as he muttered to himself: *• My slave — yes, in the power of Karmes ! " and he smiled at the prospect. " What a fair slave!" Saul had hurried on ahead to the Judg- ment Hall to make the accusation. Of all the hat«s that reign enthroned in human breasts, perhaps none is at once so in- tense and so insatiate as that which has its source in theology. Swinging a sceptre drap- ed in black despair it rules and ruins with all the fierceness of a demon's sway. The bigot has ceased to be a man. Often a heart far less cruel is hidden by the armour of the soldier than by the surplice of the priest. Often a soul far less marred and maddened is expressed in the dagger of the assassin than in the sentence of the judge. That afternoon the court of Jerusalem which attendf^d to such prisoners, disposed of the young Nazarene. But she was not made aware of their decision until th*^ mornmg. ..^.■.n--'^i^m' 50 That night Zerolca slept on the stones of a dungeon beneath the walls of a Syrian fortress, little dreaming that in the darkness of that same cell her brother had felt the pangs of the world's ingratitude and prepar- ed to pa\' the penalty of a life of sacrifice and self-devoi.ion, little dreaming that she might now be separated forever from her lover and from the fond mother who, that evening had seen the sun go down and the twilight darken into night, as she stood on the threshold of their home and watched for the return of her daughter across the hills and through the olive groves of Nazareth. w v>,,n .linr'^iUi- H te-^rlj.rtMn CHAPTER VI. ESCA PRD The night of the uprojir at the Damascus Gate, an astonished group of people stood in the house in the southern part of Jerusalem which Zerola had left that morning. Two of their number, who were in the out- skirts of the crowd and witnessed the ston- ing, had waited and watched for their oppor- tunity. So soon as the murderous throng dispersed, they took up Th aeon's body and conveyed it under cover of the evening to their home, to give it reverent burial. In washing and preparing it for the tomb, signs of life were perceived. " Thaeon is not dead ! " shouted one, as they all crowded around, beyond measure sur- prised. " No, no— he lives ! " Gladness quickly took the place of sorrow. " He lives, he lives ! " Every emblem of mourning soon vanished. " His wounds are indeed severe," remarked the first again, '* but careful attention and tender nursing will restore him to his wonted health." if. 7«J»\mf li-rmf-hiil^i- 52 ,v:.";fr^^ *'And to " ** Zerola," a third suggested as a smile came over the other's face. For well they knew that the moment Thaeon was well enough to hear the story of his betrothed's being imprisoned, he would never rest until he had started to fulfil the prayer that she might be found. His was that love which sometimes conquers calmer and colder consideration, tliat love which marks the difference between bravery and cowardice, so often misnamed expediency. "More water to his brow," reaching for the vessel. " It is so refreshing," handing it with a dampened cloth. " See how he revives ! " Thaeon's friends had set quietly and af- fectionately to work to help bring back the strength, whicli with sympathetic glances they saw returning. In the sunlight of their wise devotion the young man began rapidly to recover. " The tigers played fiercely with their piey," remarked an old man of their num- ber, " left him for dead — but he has escaped." CHAPTER VII. A B^LOWKRS DKSTINY It was in Rome. " The slave was a beautiful Jewess, Niane." " How did you send her to me, Corbulo ? " "I purchased the girl in .hTusaleni." " Yes, I remember." " And forwarded her in care of an old Egyptian." " Perhaps that is the explanation." " I fear it. Karmes has played me false." " There can be little doubt of it, Corbulo." " But 1 will find him. And when I find him, I will " and the Roman rang the blade of his unsheathed sword. " But enough Niane," kissing her, '' T must to the Capitol, farewell." " I shall follow in an hour." The city of the Ca'sars had on gala attire. A visitor on the streets would easily have imagined that every one of the inhabitants was a believer in the gospel of geniality. The gods were smiling upon the Seven Hills. All was festal. " A superb day ! " remarked one Roman, as he met a friend. i ll 54 if " By Hercules it ia an imperial day," re plied his fellow-citizen, laughing. *' But, where do you sup to-night ? " " With Corbulo." " Perpol ! That is well." *'Whyso?" " T have consented to favor him myself." " Ha, ha, ha ! And you think it is well that I should dine where you go." " Ha, ha ! " " Were J hungry, T had rather be where you are not." " But the general's dinners are good, very good." *'0h, most excellent." " And his wine " " Well, what about his wine 1 " " Is redder than " " Clustering cherries." "To the Tiber with your clustering cherries, that's a little too poetic for my soul." "Then tell me," turning to depart. " I will. Listen." The man took hold of his fr end's toga, drawing him aside, and whis pering : " It is redder than a vestal's lips." And he was gone, shouting as he went : " Come on ! Come on, to the triumph." Everywhere is brightness, glory, radiance. ■•«'%• nr. V li The multitudes are hastening;, and oheerinf]f as they go. *' Huzzali for Corbulo ! '' The streets are vocal. '' Long live CorViulo ! " The general's is the name of the day. It is on the tongue of the shouting plebians and on the tongue of the proud patricians. It is on the rosy lips of maidens giving merry jest or bright retort to laughing companions and it is the word of stately Roman matrons. Minions and magnates are all talking. Cor- bulo is the theme, in palace and in forum. What brilliant scenes ! Step of sandal and sweep of robe, voice of greatness and blush of beauty. Rome, the paradise of fashion and ambition. Rome, the city of pleasure and splendor ! To win a triumph there was a prize that even gods might well desire — it alone would procure adoration and confer immortality. That morning the marvellous glory of the sun, coming in heavenly radiance towards the Campagna, was almost rivalled by the mag- nificence of chariots plated with gold and silver, drawn by spirited horses prancing be- neath robes of purple bedecked with jewels, trophies of the war. For Corbulo had returned 56 from abroad crowned with victory, and was now marching in triumph tlirough the proud portals and crowded streets of tlie imperial city. " Long live Coi-bulo ! " rang out the cry. He rode beneath arches of Howers wliich kept dropping their blossoms to the pave- ment. And the people, as the chariot of the conqueror rode on, eagerly picked them up and carried them to a thousand homes, pa- trician and plebeian, to be treasured as memorials of this happy day. In his hands the distinguished Corbulo carried a floral tribute of the rarest treasures from Rome's most beautiful gardens, a present from the Senate. ^ Several of these, shaken from their fasten- ing by the motion of the chariot, had fallen to the stones of the roadway. One of them, blown by chance winds from the route of the procf sion, passed through a crack in the wall oi a certain subterranean dungeon And the blossom brought a kindly smile to the sorrowful face of a beautiful prisoner. Surely this was worthy of being the prettiest flower's destiny ! And if it only had had consciousness and a pair of speaking eyes ! CHAPTER VIII THE E(iYPTIAN A(iAIV The evening of the triumph. A huge fortress frowning on one of the Roman streets. Beneath the fortress a subterranean dun geon. " Perhaps this flower may be a blossom from the orchards of some peasant dwelling in peace beyond the Palatine," a voice was saying, " for it has the fragrance of humility. It may have slept on the fair bosom of some maiden of Rome, perchance the daughter of the Emperor— for it has the form of beauty. Or it may have dropped from the strong hand of some conqueror returning in tiiumph to his native land. Better still, it may be a lily from the grassy slopes of l*alestine or the quiet valleys, from the hills of Bethlehem, or the groves of Nazareth. No, it cannot be ! That loved land lies too far away across the blue waters of that waveless sea. And yet, O sweet flower, I thank thee for the message from the Father thou dost bring this lovely slave. Thou art crushed, as I, i ■' BR •II hut thy spirit is not broken — nor mine ! I cannot see thy tinted petals, yet I kiss thee for thy beauty. I love thee for tiiy purity." It could be the voice of no one but Zerola. And as it ceased if you had been near enough you might have heard the low regular breath- ing that tells of falling alseep. Night had already come, although the girl rlid not know it. To her all nights were days, all days were nights, all time an infinite calm of eternal darkness Sometime after the voyage from Jerusalem to Rome, whither she had been sent the morning after her imprisonment, as the slave for the wife of the general, who had been on a visit to Pilate from the capital of the empire, Ze!X)la had seemingly become quite blind. Doubtless this was trom the principle that if any part of tlie body is not used it soon loses its strength. The dark beauty of her large bright eyes remained, but sight was gone. Blind ! No more to wander in waving woodlands and see in caverns of the arching pines the Temples of the Father. No more to follow the crooked curves of noisy brooks and see in their winding waters a picture and a pro- phecy — the history of nations, the destiny of mankind ! > ■O ii( fii#6^ Jiiife«*s«^feJ M^in 69 And yet this very blindness kept Zerola from seeing some of the gloom amid which she seemed doomed to die. But why conceal the truth ! The girl knew it all. Two long years had she languished in those cankering chains. Two years slept with pitiless ston<^?' above on colder clay beneath, a pile of mo' «i with a bundle of straw having been hea >; d in one corner of the dungeon for a L^d. Each pillar though gaunt and hard, each slab through dead and hearth ss, was a friend. Full well the captive knew the weary way around that lonely tomb, for years ancl years ago her prison had been a sepulchre — as if it were not now ! No windows dispelled the dreary darkness of that dismal grave. True, there were crannies and cracks in the walls, but only one let in the light. And over it had been placed bars of iron, to keep a demon out — but surely now to keep an angel in ! Every day through this narrow crevice the sunbeams used to come and try to bring some hope from the great world outside. Zerola waited for their coming and knew the moment of their going. By their beck- oning cheering rays her rusty shackles were gilded. But chains of gold hurt just as much as chains of iron. 60 Those visitors from the skies were strong, yet very weak. How could a few wandering rays of sunlight alter the foulness of her cell, the hardness of her crusts ! The single meal a day lowered on a rattling chain through a hole in the dungeon ceiling was ample enough, but of such repulsive food, that Zerola sometimes could not touch it, and was glad to hear the distant echoes of the footfalls of the guard dying away beyond the bolted doors of brass and iron hanging in the long corridors of stone, ever death-like in their stillness. How many chapters of the volume of her life were now written the captive could not tell. But often, with comforting hand, did memory turn back the beloved pages of her youth and the blind slave wasting, though not pining, in the sepulchre dungeon saw in a book that needed no light of taper or of sun, the pictures of her girlhood days. And again the child of Palestine lived in Naz- areth. For so it seemed to her — she thought so often of the loved days that now were past and gone. *' How happy were those bright hours," Zerola would remind herself in order to chase away some of the gloom of her damp WM ,ji 61 cell athwart whose divsmal darkness would sometimes glance a gleam of joy, " when with my brother, my beloved brother, I played bener.Ui the waving palms and ran among the groves in my native land. No freer flew the swallows ! '' Ilecalling a pleasant past has made many a (Captive feel less forsaken. How like a creative angel is imagination ! It can even people the loneliest prison with the forms and faces of mother, father, brother, sister, lover. The men of imagination rule this world. And the women of imagination rule these men. It is able to set up thrones, build up honjes or knock down dungeon walls. " And in the evening," she went on, '' when father had finished hio work and mother could leave for a short time our two baby boys, the younger merry, as the elder gentle, would we three walk along the hill- side slopes sleeping in the twilight, along the darkening shores of quiet waters lulled to rest by softest winds, and speak together of tlie folding past and opening future, speak of that dark night when my father and my mother, as two travellers from Nazareth, lodged in Bethlehem. And lo, at the dread hour — yet the angels' hov^r — above the grreii ■;»ap%^, / 62 fields, above the blue hills, in the dark and silent sky the star of the Christ was shining to tell the children of men that a man was born who, by a life of sacrifice and self-devo- tion, was to show them the golden way of life — love to man the holy light that guides the soul to God — who was to be the Saviour of mankind, who was to teach by word and deed that wondrous truth whereby are fused the human and divine, whereby the sins and sorrows of earth shall be w4ped away, where- by justice and harmony shall be king and queen of every nation and rule in world-wide empire — the Creator a Father, humanity a family, the Fatherhood of God, the brother- hood of man." Zerola moved restlessly. In the stillness of her dungeon she usually slept long and deep. Perhaps that was the chief reason why she had survived so well. The kingdom of heaven was within her, and it is always a kingdom of peace. So sleep gave her ob- livion and she was spared the racking mental torture which men who have passed years in solitary confinement describe as maddening and insupportable. But on this night, the loud huzzas of the crowds in the streets pene- trated to the subterranean dungeon and dis- turbed her rest, 63 ** There must be life and movement there," she thought, " those shouts come from people who are free and happy." She was resigned to her lot. Zerola was truly Jewish in fortitude. But youth and natural vivacity would assert themselves and force upon her mind the grim contrast be- tween her lot and that of other j^irls in Rome. For a moment after waking she felt resent- ful. Then reproaching herself she forced her reflections into a channel where as experience reminded her, there was always tranquility. " Let me recall that morning," she said, ** when the clouds of a threatening storm kept the struggling sun-rays from shining on one of the cohorts of Rome, marching through the streets of Nazareth, dragging into exile a young man, afterwards found to be the prince Ben Hur, who, for some crime against the oppressors of his native land, an acci- dent, the people said, had been condemned to toil the remainder of his life as a galley slave. And then my brother came into the street. And, oh, how kind was he — so much a man that holy angels might stand in the shadow of his cross and say to all the world : this was a God ! And Jesus saw the youth lying in the chaius. Instantly there was E I - ^ ■ i 1 ^i pifl i .^WHrt- 64 I ■ coinpa.ssiou in his eyes, and in his hands. Such a look of mysterious sadness darkened the poor youth's countenance, so torn were his garments, so harsh were the soldiers, that the smile of human gratitude upon the cap- tive's face which thanked my })rother for his kind deed was enough to soften the scowls and sweeten the curses of those heartless lloman warriors who seemed to think it an insult to the glittering eagles of their haughty Emperor that a Nazarene should dare to give a cup of cold water to a slave. " O, Jesus, the slave in his chains in Naza- reth thanked thee for thy compassion, and now the slave in her dungeon in Rome thanks thee for thy lesson. " On the fatal day in Jerusalem when f saw the mob and the priests scourge and stone that helpless man, who b} his many wounds would have been even to his mother unrecognizable, then in my soul rose the re- membrance of thy noble deed on the streets of Nazareth. Then I resolved that J, too, wouid give a cup of cold water to one of the chi'dren of our Father. "• And for that T am separated from my mother, from my father, and from my lover, and buried in this sepulchre T fear for ever. 65 my row " Yet I had rather die in tliis dayless damp, this lightless gloom, and know that I have walked in thy holy footsteps of sacri- Hce and self-devotion, than roam forever in some paradise of cloudless clime and starry skies, and have in memory's haunted cham- bers such ever-crying spirits as the bitter re- morse and cliiii'ini' •'uilt of a urotlier's blood." The Jewess stopped a moment, walked to the crevice. The evening breeze was coming in. She thoujjrht of the free brij^ht world without, and spoke aloud : " But wrong is bitter, too, and stinging. Why should I be the victim of such in- justice ? " Just then the clanking of chains was heard on the stones of the silent corridors above her tomb, and Zerola recognized the footfalls of the sullen slave, whose duty it was to bring her food and lower it through the aperture in the ceiling of her dungeon ; a slave whom she had of course never seen, yet near whom she seemed to feel a presence not unknown. He had never spoken. To-night a strange sensation came over her as she stood listen- ing to the chain being lowered. It reached the floor. The girl did not touch it. She ft (^«r.'--.T'!3^^^g*!aB it :! 66 Ri felt as if she did not want to. Tlie guard above became inpatient. He shouted to her : " Your bread, your bread." Zerola shrank back as through from the cold edge of a sword. A shriek rang through the prison : " Karmes ! " And still another cry in that girlish voice echoed along the stony corridors : " Karmes ! " ' i CHAPTER IX, THE UPSETTIN(J OF PLANS Could you have seen the Egyptian as he walked away from the aperture in the ceiling of Zerola's dungeon that night you would have looked upon a prisoner-guard who might have suited some sculptor as model for a statue of crafty disappointment. " How strange," he was thinking, " that those Nazarenes should have obtained per- mission to carry away the body of Thaeon from the Damascus Gate after the throngs had dispersed. The wretch ? And Arni told me that in washing and preparing it for the grave, signs of life were observed. So Thaeon is not dead ! Well, well ! I wonder where the youth is now? I suppose he is search- ing for Zerola. Most likely. Fool ! But he'll find her, and when he finds her ~ perpol ! He could as easily find a sandal in the desert. Perhaps this very moment he is crossing the hot sands, perhaps he is in Alexandria, or in Athens, or— in Rome! Ha, ha ! I>ut she's safe." And he tossed the chains on tlie floor fiS ..*mni^ : ii; Ilii Ml toward Zorola's cell, niutterin;;; as lio drow them back rattling : "Oh, she's so safe ! Ha, ha!" The Egyptian's lot was now only one remove better than that of his victim. Karmes and Saul had left one factor out of their calculati(jns. And that factor was the presence of Cor})ulo at the palace of Pilate, Naturally neither could foresee that the wealthy lioman would he inipressed with the beauty of the young Jewess and determine to send the girl to his wife as a slave. And what Corbulo wanted, Pilate would take care should 1 granted. It is ever this way in human o* signs : some factor is omitted from the prol)lem as you work it out so cleverly on the tablet of the mind But a man of an intriguing nature never accBpts defeat with- out a struggle. So Karmes followed the slave to Rome. On this night as the Egyptian went back to his own room, he paused for a moment at the grated window to listen to the noise of the city. But there were sounds nearer to him that arrested his attention. A man beneath the window was giving instructions to a score of others. Karmes pressed his swarthy coun- tenance afijainst the bars and listened. 'Hi 69 I the tin I'd iiitiM*- the To-niglit in dozen muttering " Gladiators, remember ruption is the signal. Forum ! '' Answers came from a throats. "The third?" " Tn the Forum ! " *' We swear !'' " It shall be done." These words wore evidently the conclusion of a speech. But there were enough to make known to the guard at least the vocation of the conspirators. Well might it have been if he had known the conspiracy — and told it. However of what was about to happen before another sun would dawn in Rome Karmes little thought as he stood at the prison window and watched the gladiators drawing theii- daggers as they took the solemn oath, saying : " We swear, we swear ! To-night in the Forum ! " t: t ii^m^miimmmimmt ' "WT^kiit.f'-*^^^^ CHAPTKK \. : .III M ! I' I i I ,ii t AMONG THE FLASHES DuRiNCJ the past two years Saul of Tarsus had become a Nazarene. Hearing of Zerola's imprisonment he earnestly set about the task of finding her. On account of the record of her sentence having been destroyed by the jailer in Jeru- salem, who was intriguing with the com- mander of the ship wliich conveyed her to Home, the task of ascertaining her where- abouts was exceedingly difficult. Karmes had succeeded in securing the co-operation of the captain of the galley which was to carry Zerola from Jerusalem. Paul had searched diligently in Arabia for her, then he had travelled to Athens, Corinth, Ephesus. But there had come no success. Now he enlisted the services of Pilate's friend, Corbulo, who was himself seeking the slave, and also the captain who had dared to set aside his will. " Corbulo, farewell," said the apostle, ex- tending his hand. " Farewell," answered the Roman, his 71 voice apjjarciilly tclliii*; liis c(>in[)«'inio!i thai feelings the couMtiuiance had l)een kept from expressin*^ were at contliet in his mind. Rf^ceiving a lett(M* from his friend, vviiicli he at once concealed Ijeneath his toga, the g(;n(^ral and the aj>ostle separated. The two men liad heiMi slowly walking along one of the secluded avenues near the Til>er. Little had they thought that the subject of their conversation was th(;n so near as to be listening to the great bell toll- ing in the Capitol, announcing in mournful and muffled tones the death of the Emj)eror. Th(5 general had prcjceeded on his way but a short distance whc^n he drew forth the let- ter, broke it open, and in the characters of the Grecian language read : " Paul to Corbuli) : " Most noble friend, peace : " If the slave be not found before mid- night, write to me at Nazareth. J thank thee for obtaining the permission of the Senate allowing me to visit my home. Have T not sworn 1 Never shall my pledge be broken. Before the nones of October, Paul will return to Rome. Before to-morrow's sun shall shine upon thy legions, thy swift galley will b(^'ir me leagues upon the watei". T3T»i??fe/;««««ez 72 " I Jut now I go to visit tlie Kjfyptiaii woman tluit dwells across the Tiber. Still she refuses to ])ecome a Nazarene Friend to the followers of the Christ, forget her not. She it was who sheltered the holy mother of him who is now the Saviour of the world, when l)efore the wrath of Herod, Joseph and Mai'y found refuge in that lanvd where once their race were slaves. O Roman, remember the Egyptian ! But l)eware ! Thou knowest the ti'uth— the woman longs to slay thee. Her love is deeper than the Nile, but her ha^e is stronger than the pyramids. " Soon, O Corlmlo, I will preach the reli- gion of humanity to the cliaipi-kings of Jtaly. Once more the proud citizens of the Si^ven Hills shall hear the despised story of Calvary. Ay, Paul will uphold the cross of the Nazarene in the very Forum of Rome ! " Rebuke not ti)y friend. " Peace to thee, Coi-bulo. "Again farewell. " Paul." This letter the Roman re-read, then placing it carefully away, proceeded. A group of Senators greeted the general as he emerged into a more cr'owdbl street of the city, and together they hurried off to attend ^01»^ ^•^ the funeral rites at the palace of the Em- peror. Magnificent they were, royal and im- perial ! Maay days were consumed in the per- formance of these rites of the dead. Under the care of a body of functionaries, called pollinctores, the body was prepai'ed for burial 01 cremation, according to the wishes of the d"^eased or his friends, and these prepar- ations were on a scale commensurate with his kingly position. On the eighth, day the b »dy was conveyed to the mausoleum on a •golden bier amid the sorrowful music and lamentations of an empire In the cortege were thousands upon thousands of the Roman nobles and princes. The sons of the deceased went veiled and the women beat their breasts. The capital was plunged in gloom while these ceremonies lasted. During the period of scjrrow after the interment, when the days of mourning were concluded, a funeral feast was spreaerty, I might again labor among the poor in Jerusalem -as on that fateful nr;oining. Had T liberty, I miglit again help my mother in our home at Nazar eth. And more, I might again return the fond greeting— why should I be ashamec' to say it?— the kiss of my lr)ver, and walk with liim }>y tlie I)lue hills and laughing streams of Galilee. Where thou a-t now, my beloved, T do not know : nor do I suppose that thou eanst tell where is thy Zerola. Yet I feel that supreme iiappiness, the consciousness that I am loved by the man I love. Still, sometimes 1 fear that we have been separated forever ! But, to-night, as the changeless stors look down upon us, T know that thou art thinking of me. For I love thee : I love thee Thaeon, more than " Suddenly Zerola was aroused from these rejections. She shrank from the bars in very terror. The giil thought she heard again the dnnid tones of that voice which slie last had heard ui'ging on the mob in Jerusalem. I ^p"^j^-?a'iw.i--xFTi#«»»i«i»iBt'.cWjai^aiKtMA»fl 75 :]iese ^s in letard hich lb ill The voice was drowned a moment in the shouts of the people. Again the Forum was silent. Had that man of so scholarly an appear- ance come also to Rome to persecute 1 Surely Zerola had suffered enough I The girl creeps closer to the bars. Listens ! The man is addressing the po})uhice. In the tumult she can hear oidy here and there a phrase or sentence : " As a greater tlian 1 hatli said, Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, T am bec(jiae as sound ing brass or a tinkling cymfjal . . . As an Athenian poet — " " Quote no Greek in Home ! " sJioutfcfJ O^ie of the crowd, whom the spenker, cMi^ld lie have seen, would at once have ift(!OgnJ/.fed ^is one of the leaders of the gladiators then ho numerous in the capital. "As one of the poets hafcli wilM-firi," coi^- tinued the speaker, " we aie also his off spring . . . for God lialli made of one blood all nations of men . . . The com- mon origin of the human race, and the com mon yciarnings of the liuman heart theref(»re it is that I preach tlie kingdom foreseen alike by poets and philosciphersj M "9'' -.., ■ ■"■ .'- T • 1 iliMihntfUiT!li[l_T>ri>*i'iil.»lit~~ '^WM-WWWs 1 :;: ' 76 which they both join in predicting and aid in establishing ... a kingdom v^ here there is neither Greek nor Jew, Barbarian nor Scythian, bond nor free ... a kingdoiM whose one hiw is love — love to God and our fellow-inen." But Zerola seemed to feel a charm of mellowed strength about the voice of the man now addressing the people in the Forum, which in addition to his theme — the religion Jesus taught by word and deed — caused her to conclude that it could not pos- sibly belong to the leader of the mob who had caused her imprisonment. Still, so glad was she to hear the gospel of the Nazarene, she again listened eagerly. The Forum now thronged with a vast crowd, over whom the speaker was gaining that mysterious power of elo(|uence, as he continued : " As time sweeps on the false passes awKV, and the true climbs upward to the throne. And he that wears its crown rules with more tlian any monarch's power. " i^ut against the vvorld's progress the palace and the temple are linked in solemn leHgue. The friends of might, the foes of right are prince and priest — who win lir:}'s ^rA 77 bread l)y swiiifijing sceptre and censer. Doves and roljes are for them. Kags and scorpions for the people. " But both are doomed to perish. As in the physical world, so in the religious, there is decay and growth ; and ever from the grave of buried shrines and the wreck of ruined thrones shines out the light of truth, speaks out with thunder tones the voice of justice. " Night is the pledge of coming day, and in due course its Ijeams illume the world. From out the darkness always gleams th<* morning sun. The hated and despised of one age are sometimes destined to become the mind-kings of the next, and their very name is worshipped. Thus let it be with the imperial Nazarene I " Men and matrons of Home, look now across the darkening sky of the Campagna. See ye yon cloud, warning of a coming storm '? Behold therein a picture of your destiny — ay, a prophecy of your doom. Already the forests of the North swarm with men sworn to hui'l death to the city of the Seven Hills. " Oh, Home, thy sun is sotting in lu^ver- ending night I Proud city, thou art hasten ing to an eternal grave ! " I 5#?*»r*-^fi -- iii J B Wil Wi W i J MW i' W M ^B ft HWIIIIIIIillM ! I "?^^S^ 78 M] But there was one in that listening crowd who wished not to hear such words. Cor- bulo saw the corruption which was destroy- ing the spirit of patrician and plebeian. Still the general cared not to think that Rome might ever find a grave. As the orator enlarged upon this theme, Corbulo turned and walked away. He had not gone far when, just as he en- tered the shadow of a huge statue, a woman grasped his arm. It was on the Appian Way. The night was now dark, he could scarcely see her face. Only a few moments elapsed, however, when a Hash of lightning — for the storm to which reference had been made in the Forum, n as approaching rapirjly — revealed to the Roman the hard features of the Egyptian to whom Paul had referred in his letter. Jjimg and sulh/j liatred had given the wo- rpan a scowl which one could easily have seen was not hers by nature. The last known living descendant of tbe Pharaohs — a fact wliich ha(i causeil her exilement from her (//itive land — she once had been, il not btinctiv«lv shrink. mM^Hh^tsiMi 79 (( " Ha, ha ! " she cried in a liittcr lau^'li, the Egyptian at last has found the Roman. Corbulo, if yon river were tlie Nile and not the Tiber," glancing toward it, " before an- other lightning flash thy flesh would be as lifeless as this marble," and the woman raised her bared and bony arm, and with a rusted dagger pointed toward the statue standing cold and spectral-like in the rain. Though I dare nob kill thee — else I would — yet, torn by thee from friends and home, an exile in this hated city, here I stand and hate and curse thee, curse thee with a wo- man's — ay, with a hag s curse ! Upon thy perjured head shall \ye wreaked tke wrath of fallen ni«>narchs ; and beyond the tomb, in caverns of t-ternai darkness, thou shalt writhe forever in the awful agonies of a death- less dying, for fiends shall hound thy spirit, aod to crush thy fatei soul with the tiercest tortures of revenge, tiae very iaeav ens shall join with hell ! ' '' Egyptian,' calmly rnterrapted Corbulo, ** thy curse I scorn, but thy life — " ** Is mine," she shouted, plungijag her weapon at him, "for the sake )f re«eD| " No," he replied, warding oflf the blow But she sprang at him. I }} imk 80 ** Take that ! " she shrieked. " No, no ; I would rather take — thy life." A dagger gleamed a moment in the light- ning, then a cry was heard. The steel had pierced the woman's heart, and she, in whose royal veins coursed the haughty blood of Egypt's Pharaohs, lay dead on the stones of Rome. But Corbulo was watched ; two women had seen him through the window of a house behind the statue. He looked a moment on the corpse, then, placing a cloth over its face, walked away. And as he walked his thoughts were in a far-off land ; in a palace built on the ruins of an old Egyptian temple, on the banks of the flowing Nile. A most fascinating vision was alluring his mind. He saw — but why di- vulge the reverie he ended with so signifi- cant a muttering : " This passion in its blinded power would hurl me from the future's throne ; this pas- sion must be crushed." The storm was now raging at its fiercest. Fearless as Corbulo was, a man whose per- sonal courage in battle had (jften inspired the bravest of the legions, yet as he saw the lightning flash and glare, and heard the .'^"-j^-J-U-i, '^t^-^f. 81 thunder crack and rumble, the slayer of the Efj^yptian woman trembled beneath the fancied anger of the gods. Soon he was within reach of the preacher's voice. " Speaking s( ill," thought Oorbulo. " Tlie gladiator dehiys long. If I remember r-ightly, the third interruption was the signal agreed upon by the conspirators. Paul passed off the first. Surely h'> cannot suspect the priests. They pray by day, but by night — ! Yet I will defeat the holy plotters," he mut- tered. " I will save the preacher from the lion and the Tiber." He hastened to the Forum. There, instead of a scattered few, was a crowd still blacker and denser, although moment by moment the wild fury of the storm was growing greater and more intense. Seemingly the theme of the orator had changed. To silent and eager thousnnds he was now speaking the thoughts of his very soul. Corbulo had reached the edge of the mul- titude. Now watching the scowls of the clouds, now scanning the faces of the people, he pushes his way through towards the preacher. " How fierce the storm," he thinks, " how m H2 ■ i ';,''! mr til'll swift tlu! rain. In north or south sings no nightingale, gleams no star. The heavens mock, scorn the earth. Again I feel the Egyptian woman's clutch, hear the hag's curse. But why do I fear ? Am T a child ? Such spectres, I despise them. What magic power keeps this crowd so silent in the storm 1 " This last question was addressed to one of the listeners. IWoro the man had time to answer, however, the speaker had directed the attention and gaze of all to a board which hung almost above his head. On it was the superscription : JESUS OF NAZARETH THE KIN(J OF THE JEWS. That Pilate wrote in Greek and Hebrew and Latin, which Paul had read last when he stood and watched the weeping group of mourners surrounding Golgotha, when they, with feelings and thoughts the world can never knov/, beheld the Son of Mary die for mankind, on the cross of Calvary. " Ten such mighty souls," thought Corbulo, " and in as many years all Romans would be 83 ■A Nazarenes. But where are the priests and their minions ! " He glanced around. Then his face grew stern ly passionate. *' T see the gladiator ! He is i ising — he speaks- interrupts. O gods ! Can it be the third? It is— it is the signal ! J hear the clash of their sworn daggers. He too, sees them — yet trembles not. Priests and gladi- ators rush on — on. See them ! On for their victim's blood I " Crash — crash ! A roar — a rumble. The Forum a seething mass. The audience a mob. The Capitol in flames ! The deadly lightning has fired the house of the Caesars ! On rush the mob — crushing, trampling the fallen and the falling. Cries and shrieks of terror, mingling with curses and yells of ven- geance, make more awf\ii the intense and sullen glare of the distant flames, as they devour the timbers and lick the gold from the tumbling dome of that proud palace and proclaim with forked tongues of fiercest warn- ing the impending doom of Rome ! Corbulo hastens on with the mob, thrusting in his haste to right and left the weaker and the ^" !MAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) t /. M^ i^j<^ /!/ ""4;^ 1.0 [f I.I ,;;liM 12.5 2.2 1.25 1.8 U 11111.6 -i»» ^i. w .^V ^'•i**' &.. /A Photographic Sciences Corporation m \^ «\\ 6^ "Nothing." ■> r •■, "WelU" " And there was an Egyptian with him who appeared as though mad with rage. I have since heard that he is now a prisoner in 94 Home. When Saul joined the Nazarenes he learned who the girl was, and his sorrow and remorse liave Vjeen terrible." *' Yes," said Niane, " It would be strange indeed if it were not so. Poor girl ! " '* For years Paul has been searching for the slave," continued Corbulo. " Her parents he dared not meet. To tell the mother of her daughter's fate he was ashamed. But one morniiig, at one of the gates of Jerusa- lem, the Damascus I think, on the very scene of Thaeon's martrydom, almost at the same hour as Zerola's enchainment, the apostle came face to face with the woman whose child he had enslaved." " He met her mother ? " "Yes." , ' *' Was she searching for him ? " " No. She and her husband were on their way to Egypt, having received a letter from a friend there, which said that the jailer who was the accomplice of the captain, had con- fessed his guilt to an old priest — both are dead now though — and thought to atone for his crime by telling where she was imprison ed." " How did the mother treat him, Corbulo?" " That I do not kno\y, Niane. Paul would not tell me." 95 re )r This «|U«'sti<)i. the Roir.aii's wife asked out of no idle curiosity, l)ut foi* a far different reason. As lier liusband feared, she was almost persuaded to })econie a Nazai'ene, but bcsfore taking a step so perilous and perhaps fatal, wished to know if the diciples of this new religion regally did live the life of the Crucitied. For it was that which was win- ning her. *' It is gi'owing lat(;, Corbulo." lifting her face toward his. " Good-iJght." "Good-night, Niane." And as he kissed her it was with the blush of youthful love, whose warmth had never chilled, perhaps, because it was a passion with them, deriving its beauty from a sin- cere constancy, and its power from a suppress- ed intensity. In addition to this, they both knew that faithfulness seals love and makes it changeless. " Had I found that base Karmes," Corbulo muttered, as he lay awake, surrendering him- self to different thoughts, " I had sent him where he might welcome the Egyptian wo- mfin. But r am resolved I will tind him — and when I tind him, may the gods use this arm to swing their sword of vengeance." :: I CHAPTER XIT. »■■, IN THE ALCOVE Just as next morning's sun came flowing in the eastern windows, Zerola awoke. She lay still for some time trying to realize what had happened. The soft couch, the fragrant odors, the clear air, were certainly not of the dungeon. " Where am I ? " she asked hen;elf half- aloud. Day after day for two lon;j years, the damp earthern smell, the close fetid atmosphere half choked her as she emerged from dreams to consciousness. Dull, weary, oppressed, there had been none of the exhilaration that she had known on awakening in her home in Nazareth. But on this morning the old sen- sations seemed to have come back. And what was that strange feeling in her poor blind eyes ? It was painful at first, like the thawing of some frozen member. Vaguely distinguishable was something brilliant, whicn she knew must be a stream of sunlight pene- trating the darkness of the apartment. ** Am I dreaminjr still ? " she wondered. 97 Hhe closed her eyes, and the glory was shut out. She opened them — it returned. " Oh, what joy ! " she cried. For her eyes were really resuming their functions. "I see, I see I " And a prayer of gratitude ascended. And the couch, what was that ? Zerola's lingers strayed around its edgft, touching in- quiringly delicate carving, soft silky cover- ing and heavy tapestry. To one who had lain night after night on the straw on the ear til/ mould, this was indeed a strange awakening. Presently a sweet low voice fell on her ear, and swiftly Zerola perceived a new evidence of her returning sight, for the sunlight Avas intercepted by something moving across its path. The old knowledge and association helpud her to recognize the moving thing as a hiDiian figure, and by the robe and graceful undulating movement, it must be the figu'-e of a woman. The voice set the question at rest, for it was a feminine voice, soft and caressing. " Are you awake, little one ? " i^; asked in melodious accents. " Ah, I see you are. Will you not rise and eat ? T will send my maids to help you bathe and dress. Do not hasten, all the day is your own. I shall re- turn soon." ^ -^» 98 And the figure vanished from the room, as silently as it came. " Where am I ? " the girl said again half- musingly. " But I will see." So she arose from the couch and looked around, though her eyes were not yet very 8t''ong. She saw the hea .y curtains hanging, costly pictures, exquisite scatuary. On the walls were swords and spears, antique and bejewelled. And in several corners rare flowers sent their perfume from sculptured vases. " Surely this is some rich Roman's palacr/' she thouglit. " Perhaps I may be made a slave again." The thought filled her with abhorrence. " O God," she cried, " do not let it be I I have suffered enough ; I cannot be a slave. No, no, no— T will not I" She glanced around the luxurious room. How was she to flee f lom here ! She might run into the very arms of her captors in some other part of the building. " The woman said she would return," continued Zerola. I nmst escape. But what I do, I shall have to do (juiekly." She crossed to the window and looked out. There was an attractive garden, and farther 90 off a blossom in ji; orchard. But the ground was too far below where she was standin<(, " I will try the doorway. It may open to some dark corridor." Rapidly and silently she stepped over the patterned rugs to the left side of the cham- ber, took hold of the curtains, drew them aside slowly, almost stealthily. " This way," she said, beneath her l)reath, " I will go, for I think I see a staircase." Then the girl listened. What was that noise ? " Men's voices. I cannot go throuijh this doorway, I would be discovered." Retreating noiselessly, she went to the other side of the room, where was another entrance. " I wonder where it leads to ? Perhaps T can escape through this doorway," drawing aside the oriental hangings. " It is shadowy. Good ! They cannot see me, and I can walk easily. I am used to darkness." And she took a step into the hallway, then stopped. She heard the sound of music and women singing. Then c^^ne the tripping of graceful feet. Zerola rushed back into the room. " What can I do now ! " she asked herself 100 excitedly. "They are coming, tluj maids the voice spoke of, coii)iiig to dress me — perJiaps to bind me." 'J he Jewess gazed eagerly about the apart- ment. The music was coming nearer. "Do those s^urtains hide another en- trance ? " she questioned, looking toward the far end of the large room as her face lit up with hope." She liurried, or rather glided, quietly to- ward them, took hold of them, listened a moment to the footsteps coming. " Now I shall escape, shall be free," draw- ing the curtains quickly aside. A scream — a shriek rang through the palace. It was no doorway, merely an alcove. " Mother, mother ! " Zerola cried. For there before her stood Niane's picture — the painting of Mary the mother of the Nazarene. " O my mother ?" the young girl sobbed, falling in tears upon the floor. Just then, as the maids came into the room, the lost daughter looked up into those whispering eyes again and all the girl's heart seemed to be melted into her voice as she sobbed : " Mother— -mother ! " CHAPTER XIII. THE BEST OF NEWS " You have been so good to me, but tell me, what has happened ? Where am 1 ? " *' You were taken out of your cruel prison Zerola, and — " ' " Oh, I know, I know it ! " the Jewess ex- claimed exultingly. " But this palace, this room, your kindness, I do not understand " " Corbulo, my husband, found you there during the storm and the great fire last night and brought you here. This is his home and we shall protect you and try to make you happy. You have been the victim of a wicked plot but you are safe now, for you belong to us. Have no fear. My husband's influence is strong enough to save you from your enemies. I will leave you now. But answer me, is the story true which I have heard that you are a near relative of the young Teacher of Nazareth ? " "Yes, it is true,"' Zerola responded. "I am his sister. And I love him more it seems to me than sister ever loved brother before He is all in all to me." 102 " You iiKvan lie was. Ho is d(!ac1. I li('aiusy with lettei's bi'ought to him by one of his soldiers. Niane was at work on the exquisite em- broidery in which, like other Roman ladies, she was an adept. Zerola looked timidly around as she entered. Her slowly return- ing vision perceived the objects in the bright light but vaguely and without accurate re- recognition. She moved uncertainly but lo:^ witli a native ^racc, and the rich garnieiits witli wliicli Niane had ordered her to he clothed, set oiF lier Htln; f(»rm to a perfection that was indeed channi!i«»-. The slave, in obedience to a gesture from Niane, led Zerola to a seat near the general and his wife, and retired. " Good morning, Zerola," was Corbulo's greeting in his genial voice. " You have been so kind to me — oh. so kind ! " faltered Zerola, taking his extended hand. "Do not mention it. We are more than pleased to have you in our home." After a few minutes the general added, to supplement a remark by Niane : " I know something of her story, but I should like to learn all the facts from her own lips." "And I should be glad to tell you, if I could. But I know so little." " How^ was it that after buying you legally in Jerusalem and sending you to my wife in Home, 1 do not hear of you again until I learn that you are in that dungeon, where I found you last night more dead than alive.'' " J fear," answered Zerola, " that I cannot give a connected account of the circum- stances." ■«■ ■■I Mm mm I ; I , : I 1 Tw 104 " Why not ? " *' I do not know what really occurred. I was taken on the first day of the voyage and secluded, treated as a prisoner. When v/e reached Rome I was confused with the great city, was hurried from place to place and finally thrust into the dungeon." " But why did the captain of the ship treat you so ? " " Yes," said Niane, '' this is the very thing we must find out. Whv was it, Zerola ? " " The captain was not really to blame." " That is strange," remarked Niane. " But wait a moment," put in Corbulo, listening. " There was a man on the ship,'" continued the Jewess, " who hated me." " Because " "Yes, what was the reason?" " I would not give up my lover for him. I think it was he who persuaded the captain to treat me harshly." " Was he an Egyptian ! " asked both the Romans at once. *'Yes," she replied. "Karmes?" exclaimed Corbulo. "The very man," responded Niane, *' Or rather, the very reptile," suggested 105 li(;r hiis});infl. " T tliink you am probably right, Zerola, about your misfortunes being due to his influence." "So deceitful, so treacherous," added Niane. " Where is he now, Corbulo 'i " "Punished." " How ? " " He was in the same prison with Zerola, but not for what he did to her. Where is he now ? Dead." Corbulo had noticed several bodies in the ruins of the prison, with all their life crushed out by the falling masonry ; but had not the time to examine them. Yet in the few quick glances which he could get, he thought that one looked very much like the carcass, as he called it, of the plotting Egyptian, who had persuaded the captain to betray his trust and play him false. Nevertheless the Roman was mistaken. Karmes had escaped. And perhaps by this time, the swarthy adventurer had learned from the two women who witnessed the scene by the statue, that Corbulo had killed his sister. For Karmes was a half brother to the hag. Hate and revenge, how strong they are! To what would they next prompt the daring Egyptian 1 Who can ttil 'i ■■?■ ^M lOfi rn TlM;duti(!S of his office deiiianding (Joihulo's attention, he left his wife and Zerola togetlier, while he went to meet his lieutenants. Niane rose, and approaching the girl, said : " You spoke just now of your lover, tell me of him. Is he living?" " Alas, I do not know." " Why did he allow you to be seized and sold ? Where was he then?" "I parted from him in Jerusalem one night. He promised to meet me in the morning to accompany me to my home at Nazareth. I have not seen him since. As I was going to our meeting-place, I was seized and taken to court. A zealot called Saul, who hates the Nazarenes and was the cause of tlie murder of my lover's father, a noble man named Stephen, denounced me to the rulers of the people. T was sold as a slave. Perhaps my Th.i^eon never knew what became of me, or he may be searching for me now. " Poor child ! It is cruel to have used you so, A curse on any man who robs a girl of her lover. Do you know what has happened to Saul ? " " No." • " He is now himself a follower of the Nazarene." 107 " Saul a diciplo of Jesus ! " exclaimed Zer ola ill astonishment. " Surely you are mis- taken." " Far from that. My husband knows all the circumstances. Paul — he is now known by that name — told him of them. Ft was a very sudden affair, and Paul seemed to think it was miraculous." " It must have been so," agreed Zerola. " Nothing less than a miracle could have changed the man. He was very fierce and relentless." " But is now one of the most active of those who preach for the Galilean. He is at pre- sent in Rome. "You know him?" " No ; but Corbulo does." " Has talked with him then ? " " Yes, and has a great admiration for him, thinks he is a wonderful man." " Most gifted, richly endowed," acquiesced the girl. " Since he adopted the new faith, he has grieved over your suffering and repented of his share in bringing it about. He has sought for you every where that he might restore you to your parents." " But could not find me." t i\ ^ 108 '* Can you forgive liim for being the cauric of your misery ? You said that the great Teacher taught you to love your enemies. That is a hard duty. VVas all his teaching as contrary to human nature as that? Tell me about him. I know so little, but I want to know everything. I would have you stay with me. But you must want to go to your home, to your mother and to your — lover. Well, you will stay for a time to tell us, Cor- bulo and me, and then we will set you free and send you back to Nazareth." Zerola needed no urging to speak of him whom her soul loved. Niane listened intent- ly, asking many questions as the narrative proceeded. In those days the good news was carried so from one to another. There were no books full of the story, no theologies re- plete with cold and repulsive dogmas. Men and women treasured up all they heard and repeated it lovingly and tenderly. This was an eloquent speaker — one who spoke from a heart overflowing with love, who had looked OQ that divine countenance, who had listened to the heavenly voice and had seen much of that life of sacrifice and self-devotion. Zerola could not weary of her subject, and regretted only that she was unable by any words she 109 could utter to present her brother an)errily on, and Zerola felt tliat secret pleasure which all girls love and deny, the pleasure of being ardently lov^d by a noble man. For she knew that Thaeon loved her with all the intensity of a strong and passionate nature. She was his soul's joy. Yes, sunshine had indeed come. Very soon she would be in Nazareth. And then — what happiness ! But the sunshine always brings the shadows. Thaeon, full of hope, was then seeking her in Rome. The two lovers, each seeking the other, were journeying in op- posite directions. How often this same misfortune befalls people in life ! Two hearts that should be one go farther and farther apart. Sometimes they drift, some- times they journey with determination. And then again it is for lack of information which, if known, might change their whole careers. And so these two travelled past one another, as ships pass in the night. H 112 > Tliaeon's ({uest was like many a modern searcli, not very satisfactory. He knew thao the utmost caution was necessary. The clue he was following in journeyiiifij to Rome was of the slightest kind, but he was pursuing that as he had others. They had failed him, but love of the ardent kind that glowed in his heart is never given to despair. He arranged his plans on the voyage. He would g(j first to some Nazarenes he knew and inquire of them the way to gain access to to C(-Tbulo's liousehold. He must learn first if a slave answering to Zerola's description had been brought into it two years ago. That was the first step to be taken. If that failed he would try the other clue that cen- tred in Karmes, for Thaeon still clung to the belief that the Egyptian was in some way concerned in the abduction of Zerola. With these plans arranged Thaeon landed at Rome. He had some difficulty in finding the Nazarenes of whom he had resolved first to seek information. The prejudice against them was bitter and they had sought safety in hiding. Thaeon's inquiries were all met by evasion. People would not admit that they knew their place of residence, and in this they were trying to protect the fugitives. 113 " A Jew — a Jew ! " they would whisper to i^ch other upon hearing hini speak ; for, although lie used creditable Latin, his tongue l^etrayed his nationality. ^^ Yes, beware ! A Jew ! " would come in breathy answer. For the early Christians in Rome had no enemies so dangerous or so relentless as the Hebrews. Days drew out to weeks, and still Thaeon pursued his search without success. Every morning he watched for an hour oi- more outside the palace of Corbulo, hoping that at some door or casement he might catch a glimpse of the beloved face. Then he would go away sadly to resume his inquiries for the people of his own faith who he thought might help him. Oh, had he but known that she whom he sought was sailing toward lier nitive land, thao her long trial was past, and th it she was going with, joy in her heart to Nazareth, hoping to find him there ! Had he but taken courage and gone boldly to Corbulo and asked him about Zerola, how much toil and weariness and danger he might have been saved. " But," thought Thaeon, as this idea oc- curred to him, " Corbulo is a distinguished f ■ ^ 114 man ; thf great general would never receive me No, no. Why, the Roman might even liave me seized and cast into prison on the charge of designing the liberation of one of his slaves. And if ever I shall find Zerola — but, no ~-I will find her 1" So Thaeon wejit on blindly seeking. He was running more risk than he knew. One day he noticed that he was followed by dan- gerous looking men, and he suspected that some enemy w as becoming interested in him. Karmes had seen Thaeon, and following him, looking closely at him with his black eyes, the quick brain behind that swarthy countenance suddenly remembered who he was. Then the Egyptian began to plot anew. CHAPTER XV. CROSSlNfJ A DESERT Life often seems to be full of cross purposes. Zerola was her wav to Palestine, count- ing the days and hours until she should reach a pretty home in >iaza?eth and lay her head on her mother's bosom. And may it not be wondered if she was longin«^', too, to see Thaeon, and tell him how she had loved him through all her sufferings ? He also would be at Nazareth, she thought, and in a few more days she would be with him, and their long-delayed marriage would take place. Vain hopes, both of them. Mary and Thaeon, had they known of Zerola's coming, would have been as eager for it as she. The;y would have been at Nazareth waiting to welcome her and pour into her ears the glad story of love and sym- pathy, wherewith we comfort the sorrowing and help the sufferer to forget his troubles. But they knew not. Mary was in Egypt, hoping yet to gain tidings of her long-lost daughter. Thaeon was in Rome, seeking her place of conceal- fi ¥i 116 ment. It was to an empty and cU'serted nest that Zerola was flying on the swift white- winged vessel. Disappointment mnst add its sliarp en- venomed stab to the wounds already borne. And who does not know how hard to bear is t hat wound ? Who is there that has not learned the sting of that laceration, the ache fi'om that blow, the heart-sinking from that crushing weight ? The mountains of life on which we breathe the exhilarating air of hope and joy are surrounded by the valleys in which we pant for air, and our spirits sink and our liml)s are heavy and benumbed. We stand on the higher levels, looking oflf to other heights near and far, glowing in the sunlight and radiant with glory. Would that we had wings as an eagle, that we might soar from one bright spot to another. But we can reach them only by descending into the valley and ascending wearily and labori- ously with feet bruised by the rocks and torn by the briers of the thorny road. With many a stumble and painful fall we go down and climb upward, and the hours of exhilira- tion on the mountain-tops are sepai-ated by long intervals of toil and depressing sadness. Knraptured on some cloudless peak, soul all 117 aglow, present golden and future roseate, the joy we have seems only the prophecy of greater happiness to come, while it is really the prelude to sorrow, whose depths are measured by the elevation on which we stand. All classes share the same experience, al- though some stay longer than others on t\m mountain- top. Less eager are they for new joys and fresh delights, and are content to enjoy without effort or anticipation. But even to them the bitter water of disappoint- ment is no unknown cup. They whom they love and hope to keep ever at their side, die or go to distant lands. Or the love that seemed destined to grow and give fruit, withers and dies, being unreciprocated. The affection that seemed personal and disinter- ested, proves to have been jnercenary, and the discovery wrings the heart and drains it of its life-blood. Our hopes withei-, our plans are thwarted, our affections wasted. To Zerola, as to Mary, the cup of disappoint- ment must be presented, and it was already mixed. What was life worth to this .spirited girl without mother or lover? Without tliese two, liberty and the recovery of sight were only a mockery. Her elation on the 118 m h ^ if I •. , . ; s ■ ; ; ' '^ ! i 1 A,. J^ . — . voyage was preparing her for the more acute suffering when she should find the emptiness at the end of it. Mary was spared that pain She hoped only for tidings, while Zerola was hoping for the joy of personal reunion. But even Mary's hope failed at last. No sure intelligence of her daughter could be obtained, and she set out on her long and weary journey homeward, sick at heart and despairing. Egypt to Palestine— it was a lonely jour- ney. Mary's way to Nazareth lay through the desert of Paran, sandy and rocky, stretch- ing from the historic country of the Nile to the borders of that revered land watered by the flowing Jordan. Paran, though so barren, had for her a loveliness and a sadness all its own. She had crossed it more than once before and it was hallowed to her by solemn associations. For here her husband died and was buried. Plere her forefathers had been laid to thqir long rest a thousand years ago. Beside the cool waters the palm trees threw soft waving shadows on their graves. Beside the jagged rocks, safe from the noon-day sun, their last remains reposed, for many decades covered by the sands. For here her ancestors, des- 110 pising the oppression of Pharoah and his princes, had ceased to be a race of slaves. Here was Sinai, destined to be forever sacred to all the nations of the world. And many a holy tale the prophets and the priests had written in the Temple scrolls, made this desert hallowed in her memor". ft. Far, farther than the eye can see, the dreary waste lifts its barren almost lifeless bosom to the hot yet cold caresses of the desert winds, as they grasping toss the sea-like '^finds, and whistling, moan and howl through the wild caverns of the mountains. Far to the east the cedars, tall and proud ^ extend oheir strong arms and shelter the raven and the nightin- gale. Far to the north Mount Serbal's gran- ite slopes, engraved with ancient writings and strange symbols, greet the first beams of the morning sun and welcome the earliest twink- lings of the evening star. Twilight brings a mysterious calmness to the desert, not the stillness of peaceful repose, but rather a timid voiceless awakening. The very sands beneath your feet seem trembling to tell their dread secrets — well it is if your camel keeps from stumbling over some grim skeleton, well if yoiir cheek recoils not from the fancied touch, the clanuny kiss of some 120 spectro seeuiing to rise from the dark graves and flit adown the lonely caverns. Here thoughts of all kinds crowd through the human mind — thoughts simple and mys- terious, noble and unworthy. Sometimes angels from holier worlds than this, some- times the enemies of men. Thoughts of the dim dark past, of its sighings and its yearn- ings, of its victories and its triumphs, of its failures and its ruins. Thoughts of the dim- mer unknown future, thoughts of immortal- ity, or its longings and its beckonings — for the soul shrinks from an eternal grave, and so pn-using in the midst of this forever to catch some echo of the past, some whisper of the future, feels the places whereon it stands is holy ground, feels its heart throb in unison with the great warm heart of humanity. Thoughts of riches and of poverty, of the wealthy hundreds and the poor millions, of bright happy homes of pleasure and of sweet- est hope, of dark miserable hovels of pain and despair, of children's faces curved with virtue, of others seared with vice — and won- ders if this be justice ! Thoughts of love and thoughts of hate, thoughts of sorrow and of joy, thoughts of things and of men, of being and of doing. Thoughts worthy of the hadow, thoughts worthy of the sunlight. 121 But memory is not always queen nor thought at all times king. The mind knows that he who hears the raven's cry hears also the carol of the nightingale. And so yield- ing to the charm of beauty, not less holy per- haps, feels the thrill of an oriental night. Paran was now in darkness, yet not silence. Frequently the roar of a lion ransr through the forest and echoed from the rocks of the desert, heard only by one, the woman travel- ling alone along the winding caravan rofid which at the foo^ of Mount Serbs 1, or among the shrivelled struggling herbage that fringed the parched sands of the desert proper, could easilj" be distinguished, but farther on amidst the black-and-white drifts was entirely lost. Though a leopard or a hyena sometimes rose and straggled or galloped off to right or left, it was not because it had been awakened from its slumber by the tread of the camel. For on being reminded that it v/as not of the Bactrian but of the true Syrian breed, you will at once perceive that that would be as noiseless as stately, and that in curvature of neck and color of body the dromedary would not be without some of the grace and charm of a white swan. The furnishings of this ship of the desert were almost of the mmm 122 1 'i' .1 ; ! ! '? 11 :: usual kind, except that no ornaments of gold or silver shone or tinkled on either the har- ness of the camel or the litter of the rider. Just when a short distance from the edge of the foliage bordering the trackless waste, the woman spoke to the camel It careened a moment, then kneeled. Eager eyes glanced all around, scanned the tufts of arbutus and acacias languishing at the foot of Herbal. "Yes, this is the very place," she said, '* there is the granite boulder." So, placing her sandal upon the neck of the camel, the woman stepped upon the sand. As she walked toward the palm tree, her flowing robe falling in folds almost to the black thongs of her sandals according to the custom among nations of the East, there was a certain power of spirit, seemingly subdued ]}y some gentle passion, surrounding her like an atmosphere which you could be felt but not defined. Soon she stood beside the granite. That very boulder was the stone which marked her husband's g ave. Beautiful indeed was the night : blue hills standinij: dim in the dis- tance like dark-clad sentinels, nightingales singing among the waving })ranches of the trees, purple clouds tinged with silvery light 123 casting their shadows on old Mount Herbal and drifting ever onward toward the lovely land of Palestine. And the stars were shining. And they shone upon the gi'ave. The wf)inan now was kneeling, kneeling beside the grave beneath the palm-tree and praying — Mary the niother of Zerola was praying to him whom she be- lieved to be too wise to err and too good to be unkind praying to God the Father of the Nazarene and of all mankind, of the great Brotherhood. Meanwhile the dromedary had arisen and was browsing on the camel grass growing in the neighborhood, having wandered some little distance from the place where left by its rider. The night was dark now, but more fas- cinating. A calming presence seemed to give the desert that mystic charm, that almost weird stillness wherein the soul of the trav- eller feels each blade of grass, each palm -tree leaf, the rocks, the hills, and all the stars are whispering those beckoning truths that angel hands have engraved in eternal gold deep down in the unvoiced thought of every hu- man heart. Mary soon arose and saw where the camel 1 ■ u 124 M n had wandered to. Walking towards it she observed far up tlie mountain what seemed to have tlie appearance (jf a cross. Then all the past flashed through her mind : the star shining above Bethlehem announcing the birth of the Saviour of men, the flight from Herod across this same desert, and then the warm welcome friendship of the Egyptian woman, the childhood of the boy, the concep- tion of his purpose in life, the manhood of the man, then long happy years of sacrifice and self-devotion, deeds of kindness prompt- ed by love, and then — the cross ! Again she stood in imagination in the throng on that darkest night the world has ever known> and beheld the Christ, her own son, die for his fellow-men, on the cross of Calvary. " But I must hasten back to Nazareth," she reminded herself. She remounted. The time flew quickly. Soon the camel and its rider had travelled far over the desert. In the eastern sky wandering beams of golden light looked like seraphs of the morn- ing, for the day was coming. And the woman saw them, but was not glad. How could she be *? Her husband in a desert grave, Zerola in a living tomb, her husband buried by her 125 own liaiids when on the wa,y to Alexsi.ndria, her (laughter exiled l)y her own people when on the way to Nazareth. " Had Joseph lived," thought Mary, " and had we seen the Egyptian woman, life would not look so ray less, almost hopeless. For we thought her letter meant that she conlH aid as in our search. But she, too, has gone. Exiled to Rome ! This has been a cruel, unjust world. Two yearning years seeking our daughter, and she is not found ! O Zerola, on earth I fear we shall meet — never I never I " ' f ; J ! '■«il! CHAPTER XVI. HOME AGAIN It was morning in Nazareth. Nestling among the hills on the south of Lebanon, Esdraelon stretching wide and far, lay the city. The sun, shining over the waving cec" .t; > brightening the (juiel streets through which the shepherds were at that early hour lead- ing their herds and flocks to the pasture- lands beyond, gave the city that peculiar charm which scarcely ever fails after long absence to make one's native place more dear, to call back the pretty scenes of child- hood. It did not fail with Zerola : she felt its strange power. She was now walking along a street where years ago some few be- side herself had seen a carpenter's regal son give a cup of cold water to a slave. Perhaps the prince — as he had proved to be- may have looked upon in after times the cross that now marked the spot where he had lain in chains and shown his wordless gratitude. For to the followers of the Nazarene the cross, being so significant of sacrifice and self- 127 devotion, had become the emblem of their religion. Zerola saw it as she passed, thinking : " The sky was dark then, but i ow all is bright. And hope, ever cheering, still leads me on. Again in Palestine ; what glad, what holy thoughts its hills and lakes sug- gest ! Again in Nazareth, again to help my mother. Again to meet — my lover." She hastened through the olive-groves, past the Hat-roofed houses, of which the city mainly consisted, varied here and there by a pyramid roof or less frequently by a dome. And as the girl, now a woman, walked along the winding streets the people seemed to remember a bearing and a countenance not unknown. Soon she stood before her home, and in a moment was walking ((uickly up the path to the house. There w(?re the same flowers, the stars of Bethlehem and the lilies, strug- gling to lift their white and purple blossoms from out the foliage growing so green and tangled in the shadows of the old date-palm standing just in front of the door. Two years in prison — now on the very tlireshold of home ! Should slie go in innnediately, or wait a I Ian' 128 nionient and see if mother would come out? She waited, then entered ; hurried through each room, glanced anxiously around, and in an instant realized it all — the house was de- serted, desolate ! " My father, my mother have gone," she said aioud, half shrinking from the words. " O (lod; tell me, where are they ! Oh, where is Thaeon '? " But this was not the utterance of despair — no, rather of decision. 8uch circumsta-nces and revc -ses simply make weak natures still weaker. Zerola was made stronger. She arose quickly and went out through the door of the carpenter shop behind the house, without, however, hearing the front door open at the same moment and a man enter. Walking through the garden this time she did not fail to observe its particularly un- tended and deserted appearance. Yet the very wildness of the foliage gave it a certain beauty which is not always rivalled by the most careful culture. Sitting down not far from the date-palm to consider what course had better be pursued, the girl fancied she heard within the house footsteps, but dis- missed the idea as one of her own imagina- 129 1 1 lion. And Paul, for the man was none other than tlie great apostle, little thought he was so near Zerola. He had sought tidings of her wherever he had gone, but hitherto had learned nothing. Of all the Nazarenes whom before his con- version he had been the means of leading to imprisonment and death, the fate of none was regretted more deeply than that of Zerola. Her kinship with the Master he loved and served so faithfully probably origi- nated the feeling. There was a pathos and romance, too, about the act of mercy and love that she was doing when she was seized, which appealed to Paul now as it had never done before. The scholarly Hebrew also feared from what he had learned of the character of Karmes since that time, that he had handed the girl over to a fate worse than death. It was a cruel thing — this thing that he had done in his l)lind zeal. Among the long list of atrocities that his conscience re- proached him with, this of Zerola seemed the deepest dyed. It was a crimson sin. Mercy and forgiveness he had, but he grieved sorely. Persecutors in all times might learn from it how easily prejudice blinds the eyes and how wrong one may be at the moment m 'I ii r 9B 1 i i ! i i i t i, : -4 1 ilji t i I I, 130 when most sure of being right. Paul could not l)e near Nazareth without going to the house from which he had snatched the bright- est lewel. He was ever eii^er to know if any tidings of Zerola had been received. The emptiness of the house did not oppress Paul as it had Zerola. He had seen the family not many months before, while to Zerola no word had come for more than two years. He waited a while, and then went out to ascertain if anyone in the village knew where Mary was, or when she would return. He learned there of her journey into Egypt, and that even then she was ex- pected. " I shall remain in Nazareth until the morning," he resolved, " and will visit the house again before nightfall." Zerola could take no such measures. She dreaded making imjuiries. What might she not hear '( " Mother may be dead, Thaeon may be dead," she thought, and trembled as the idea passed through her mind. It was now nearing noon. Scarcelv a cloud was in the sky. Tlie heat was hv- cuming very oppressive. Zerola, fairly ex- liausted by her long, wearisome journey, lay 131 down to lost awhile, and very soon sho foil asleep. Fortunately, only the comparatively few who have been dwellers in a lionian prison of the first century, have had that experience which would enable • ne to picture even in- distinctly the dreams Avhich would naturally present themselves to the brain of a girl so recently and strangely liberated. Indeed, very few have ever been in such a prison as Zerola. Therefore it will readily appear that repose in a place like this was what she now most needed. And both the sleeping and the dreaming were delightful. »'■ mifi m.--''^ •'•mn:<*'i*(^tK'»i*i.^H^:^n -p'^ CHAPTER XYII. THE UNIVERSAL TRIAL The very hour tliat Zerola lay sleeping and dreaming beneath the date-palm a woman ridiiiij on a camel mii'ht have het*nt«^iri^liSi^;iH'l^ m 130 '* Zerola," he faltonHi, but it was with the voice of a man acioss whose patliway in life lias fallen some dark shadow, "you know all. I will not, T can not ask you to forgive uie. I have earned your curses." " Speak not so," said Mary, " she has al- ready — " " No, no," he went on, " her curses would blast nie less than her forgiveness." But he could add no more. Looking upon the ground, h(; said in his very heart ; "God be merciful to me a sinner." He felt a ten- der hand take his, and raising his eyep ^hey n^et Zerola's. And there was that in ^ch and voice and look which said, "The past is all forgotten, forgiveness lights the future." "You are indeed worthy of being the sis- ter of the Galilean," he answered. " But no, I cannot do it— I cannot take ycur pardon." Looking at Mary, Zerola then asked : " Mother; where is Thaeon ? " Paul turned and walked away. "O God," he said, "howl have wronged her ! " In their conversation about the martyr, they had not mentioned his name. The apostle was tilled with remorse. What a crime his bigotry had led him to commit ! What sor- ■-.■*« •'(fk>V*^» '»..•#»».>. i:i7 row h(i had brought to this Ikjiiic ! Mary and Zerola liad forgiven him. God had for- given him. But lie could not forgive him- self. A small nature might easily have done so. Paul's was large, noble. When Mary answered her daughter's question she; thought Paul was out of hear- ing, but Jis he walked away he caught the words : " Zeioia, v/hen thou didst take the cup of cold water to the maityr on that morning in Jerusalem, it was t ^ — '" "Speak, mothei, speak!" "To Thaeon, thou wast carrying it." " No. That cannot be ! What do you mean?" " Daughter, thy lover — is — dead." Suddenly becoming as if lifeless, the girl fell upon the ground, overwhelmed with that sorrow wliich can be felt only by one who has learned to truly love with all the fervor of a passionate woman's heart. Mary, ([uickly kneeling beside her, took her in her arms and carried her to the house where in years gone by they had all lived so happily. And pressing her to her bosom she prayed as never before. Had she found her beloved daughter only t '.- -«» ..■»."«*.#-.««W,*^f „«^^«J^-; i:i8 to lose her at a stroke ? Zerola'd face Icjokcd like the; face of the dead. The mother wept over hev and labored tc bring life back to the beautiful form, Zerola thought she had schooled herself to say, " Thy will be doae," but as she heard that Thaeon was dead, her heart seemed to cease beatini^. AH around had grown dim. And she remember? d no more. But the young life, even in so delicate a frame as Zerola's, does not easily yield itself under a mental shock. It was only a swoon, and IVlary's eifforts ^vere rewarded after some minutes with the returning color in the pale cheeks that showed the blood was once more circulating in iier arteries. She did not hasten returning consciousness, realizing that the desolation would come on her child with renewed weight and that this oblivion was. merciful. At last Zerolas lustrous eyes looked up piteously into her face. " Mother,'' Fhe asked, *' is it true 1 An- swer mo ! Is it true what you have told me 1 Is Thaeon reallv lost to me forever? O mother, I was so fond of him. Shall I never see him again ? O God, how I loved him ! " '' Not on earth, my eliild," Mj'.ry replied, #:! m .■^.i-atHM/lrl-f 139 I! ill sadly, '* You cannot see him here. F>ut, Zerola, %ve sorrow nob as those who have no hope. You have not parted forever. Do you not remember the words of your brother — your Saviour ? " '* Repeat them to nie, mother." " I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth on me though he were dead, yet shall he Hve " " Yes, I do not forget, But it is very hard. O mother, it is so hard ! " And through the years how many thousands of human hearts have felt this cold sorrow of bereavement, and from whom this same mournful cry has been sobbed to heaven. It is the lamentation of the universal trial. II "P. .5 ' ■*s'f'-mrM\:^'mA.ihmti-^%imii ' CHAPTER XVIII. WHIRLING IN WILD CAROUSAL " Roo:\i there I Make room for tlie cha- not of Corbulo ! " So shouted the people as his black Arabians driven by the general himself, galloped along the ringing pavement of the Appian Way, whose large hexagonal blocks of Basaltic lava formed a road hard and smooth as skill and stono. could make it. Half the city, both citizens and strangers, were now enjoying the pleasures of the pro- menade. For it was evening. " A costly four ! " exclaimed a certain Egyptian as Corbulo flashed by. " Magnificent chariot ! " responded his companion, a man whom you would at once have seen was also from the country of the Nile. " But cursed charioteer," muttered the other. They now quickened their steps. "That," remarked the taller of the two, pointing at the Roman's brilliant equipage, and following it with his black eyes, " that ■ifitu^^, .t», 'tui . ^jm»««rii«i -#^#.^i^^|^. ' .-iia^ •'«^*'K^ilO'iKuaa^gKrgt-g'5r-^; ::rz- z - 142 " What of tho Roman ? " "Cleopatra netted him in a minute." Then there was silence for a time. In a few minutes it was broken by the smaller of the two. "Aha, Karmes," he laughed, "the girls are cunning as their master. Look ! There they are ! " " True, Arni, true." " Let us approach then and listen." " But we have not time." "Why not?" " Remember the message : By the statue at day-break ! And the wine and the dance precede." " Yes," repeated Arni, " the banquet comes first. And then — By the statue at day-break 1 It will go hard with Corbulo to die so." "Yes. But it went hard with my sister when he killed her beside that same statue," replied the first Egyptian^ coloring with anger. ** Well for the general if he knew our our plot, Karmes," remarked his companion, Moraewhat pityingly. " Ay, well ! " was the answer. " And he will know when — " ■'•*'*^^■^^.^i*m^-t^'^^^ - 143 " When this daggei' tells him," interrupted the half brother of the hag, muttering and patting his breast. The two men hurried off to their meeting- place. Well might it have been for them if they had only known how much Corbulo did know of their conspiracy ! For he knew all. But they trusted to their cunning. By this time tlie two women resf erred to had caught up to Thaeon, and were now talking with him. Misled by their speak- ing his own language he seemed to have forgotten liis usual caution. " Pardon me," said the elder of the two, " but do you not come from Nazareth ? " He looked at them a moment. " Yes," he responded. " I do." " Then your name is Thaeon," she added scanning the man over, and smiling wiu- ningly. He was perplexed. How did they know who Jie was. It seemed to be explained, however, when she contiiued : " "Several years ago we lived there our- selves. But now our home is here in Rome." Although neither of them had ever seen Palestine they had been furnished with all necessary facts by Arni and Karmes. They '■•'p*miips,-!ii>4^iNtHi- 144 knew thoroughly the history of the Dian before them. In addition to this both had the tact of their sex and the cunning of their race. "And have you not found Zerola yet?" inquired the younger after a sUght pause in the conversation. Thaeon looked astonished. They might know his nationality and his name, but how could they have found out his errand. '• Oh, be not surprised," they said together, looking archly at him, " we know her well." "You know her," he repeated, trying in vain to conceal his feelings. But they knew only too well the workings of a manly heart when its owner is blindly and intensely in love. " Can you tell me where Zerola is .' " he asked. " Yes, we can." "Then tell me I" " Come with us, and we will take you to her," was the answer." What possibilities belong to every woman ! How noble she may be, if she only will. But yet how false sometimes — how treacherous. The three turned and walked in the op- posite direction to that in which they had f '^■^''*^,ti'*ft^<,,Mt^f~, 145 been going Past the spraying fountains, past the marble columns, tiie sloping gardens and triumphal arches, they hastened onwaid. Ihe gn-ls aughed to themselves at his trust and credulity. Soon they reached their destination. It was a house situated behind the statue' No sooner had Thaeon entered this place than he began to doubt. . "What," he thought, would Zerola be do- ing in such company as this ? " Weated around the spacious room were a dozen men and as many women, all drinkinrr in a moment he realized the truth • he had been deceived ! J^ut how could he make his escape ? It would not do to let them see that he^even wished to go. That was evident. -Niti, called one of the women as the dwart went to open the doors at the end of the room, "keep away from there -?" "Why?" " There's a lion in there." The boy smiled. ''Keep away, Sati. Keep away from the den she continued. '' That lion eats three little black imps like you every mornincr "He does?" said the young Ethiopian with wonder in his big eyes. rr^tttKi .m-m^. ft - 'fn^o-t t^iim ■ uc ' Yes." "Three every morning ! " " Yes." "Then-." "Then what?" the woman asked. "AVhy after this I will never get up till » " noon And he smiled at her imp-like, and walked away to where Thaeon sat thinking, trying to devise some way of escape. " Look ! " said Hati. Thaeon raised Ids eyes. The doors at the farther end of the room were now swinging softly open, and strains of music floating through the long torch-lit corridor. Then was lieard the march of sandalled feet stepping to the touch of luto and tabret. In a few minutes a score of dancing girls entered dressed in all the attire of processional display and oriental attrac- tiveness. And the revel commenced. And the revel galloped. And the revel whirled ! An hour or more passed when Karmes leaning over whispered to Arni : "Remember, 'By the statue at day- break.' The hour draws near." " And our men are ready for their work," ^, <'^.tii:m*m^*im*'v*n^*'*Htttm^ti'm 147 «!! ('1 J) answered Arni. " Nine are hiding by the roadside, waiting to drag the Roman from his chariot as he passes. And then " *' Then, ay, then Corbulo ! O revenge, how sweet thou art ! " Meanwhile the feast was going on. *' But, Karmes, asked the other, " how comes it that Corbulo is driving along the Appian Way so late to-i light ? " " He has gone to meet Paul, who but yes- terday arrived from Palestine," was the an- swer. " The general will be turning Nazarene next," suggested two or three of the women sitting near and listening. They all laughed in derision. *' Well, this to the apostle," sneered Arni, as he emptied his goblet. " And this to the general," responded the tall Egyptian. Another now joined them. " The girls," he said, '* who saw Corbulo kill your sister say they have something to tell you, Karmes. Thc^y wish to speak with you." " Bid them come to me, then." In a few minutes they were before him. " Thaeon will have nothing to do witli u«, " .«?»•' ■•■•r*fl«*5'c*'^i*'«MM<»*»)i 148 they said appeal i ugly, " and we cannot over- come his dfitermination." " Why, I thought you could overcome any- thing masculine," was the half-joking reply. " So did we," one of them re})lied. " And we can, too ! " added the other, with emphasis. " You jest." " No, wc do not, Karmes." with a siren smile, ''are you not mc^culine ? " " Ha, ha, ha ! " sounded loudly from all the grou]). " Oh, away, away ! " commanded Karmes, not quite appreciating the sally. They turned to go. '* But I'll overcome him," continued the man, aroused, not by means of any feminine wiles, but by means of " " Of what r' they asked, returning. " Of this," he replied. And with his finger- tips he made his dagger ring. " But what did you come to tell me ? " he demanded of the girls. "To tell you?" " Yes." " It is this : let not pleasure be forgotten in your anger, Karmes," was their answer. They looked at him. And their look said : -'^mmmifm»^,»hn.m^iin^.^- 149 " Come." The men arose. of iior^sii' - ''-^ '"^ '^-"h Again thegoblets were filled. Ihese,' said they all as they quaffed H.p " Wine ! " "And women! " "Huz?a !" ^And through the hall the shouts went Song and jest and laughter, what a iollv KhZmTtf "^' '^'^^^"^ ^^ ^-^ -S wine the pxl-. 'T\'' u^'^ ^^^'^''^^^ ^^ ^^e wine, the excitement of the dance- eastern enticing, voh.ptuous- who could resist such asc^nat^ng pleasure? ^one now. NonS then, feo all, save one, Egyptians inrJ T?.; ;--s, women, men and girf^^^Twent whirl-" ing m wild carousal. "i^wniri- Knock, knock. A trumpet blast ' cJnT''"'' '' •'^-•^ and clanking of Spears, armor, swords shining weirdlv in the torches' flickering light. ^ m Was it a dream ? No. A hundred .soldiers stood within tlie room. Every man armed and resolute. The revellers were silent, almost sobered. "As many more are waiting for you outside," said the centurion, glancing from one to the other. And his iron will was in his voice. In a few minutes the men were prisoners. The women were permitted to go to their homes. How wearily they tramped along the Appian Way. In less than an hour the prisoners were in the presence of Corbulo. There stood the great Roman, calm, cold and immovable as the marble walls around him. " Karmes," he said, "your plot was dis- covered. I kno> all ; yes, all ! " Then, turning to the guard he said, with a wave of the hand, " These to the galleys, except one." A murmur ran through the crowd. ^ In a moment, he continued, " Thaeon is free ! " How sullen looked the conspirators. To be chained to an oar, to be treated like a do^, it seemed their future life would be ftr*^'r*n: " *r ii ' iM'h -}lf 151 but a slow fleatli. And worse than that, into its darkness would never sliiiie a ray of hope. The voice of Karnies lirst broke the silence of the chamber. '*Than be a sfalley slave," he shouted "T had rather be a corpse ! " Corbulo waited a moment, deliberating. Then, looking into the Egyptian's black eyes, said slowly : " I grant thy wish." Then to the centurion : "Karmes dies to- morrow^ — by the statue at day-break ! " All the conspirators glanced hurriedly at each other, and dropped their eyes. Looking again at the old intriguer, Cor- bolo continued : '* I permitted you to make a voyage on one of my ships. But how was my confidence rewarded ? By fickleness, falseness, treach- ery. You betrayed my trust. You tried to betray Zerola, but failed. Then for some crime you were immured in the same sepul- chre. In its wreck by the lightning I thought I saw you lying dead. However, you escaped ; then formed a plot to take my own life, and Thaeon's. But you have failed — failed in all ! And now, now Karmes, pre- pare to follow the hag ! " 152 Then the doors of the room swung open. And through the long corridor were seen a hundred soldiers ranged and standing by the walls. Forth came the sound of the she^'thing of a hundred swords, as, at the signal of olie centurion, they shouted : " By the statue at day-break ! " And every conspirator trembled as the avails echoed the words : *' By the statue at day-break ! " » ^Mkjjmm^tmpf^f'm^mm'^ CHAPTER XI.X. DEPARTING What changes may take place within the limits of a single day ! When next morning's sun appeared above the eastern hills the conspirators were toil- ing at the heavy oars of war galleys. And by the statue white and gleaming on the Appian Way the body of Karmes was dang- ling lifeless in the breeze. Thaeon met Paul at the palace of the gen- eral, and with a reception by the Romans and the Hebrew which imagination may truthfully picture as an occasion of joy. Amid narration of events which all were anxious to hear, the golden bringer of new days travelled upward to its zenith. And the scene in the palace was changed. Corbulo was bidding warewell to Niane. He was about to embark with the imperial legions to engage in another campaign, from which the army of the Ctesars and their dis- tinguished leader, the hero of many battles, were expected to return with more glory than ever Ijefore. Crushed must be every 154 enemy of Rome. Great was the genius of Corbulo. Splendid would be his triumphs. Victor, comjueror — he would become ! Why not Emperor ? ^^m;!^rim¥'^f**^m^ !i |.S<'e l>Ufft' 157 "A FORM STANDINC. BENEATH THE FRAGRANT BLOSSOMS " -iim^.ig!f>,^^^>^f»m* CHAPTER XX. A liHlDAL -MORNING Again it was twilight in Palestine. Jn the sky few stars were yet shining. Streaks of color golden and roseate%vere still lingering in the west. a ong the pretty slopes you might have seen" as the shadows were darkening, a form stand Z waT'? ''lf/-«-"* W--ms. IK able to distinguish a countenance and a voioe which you would at once have recognized. Ihe woman was thinking of an evening in ^^azareth ,n that same Slive-grove, vWien Karmes the Egyptian spoke the words ■ come M' '•«'»<"»''er this hour years to Zerola was recalling also that n.o.ning in Jerusalem when the cup of cold water^sl« was carrying to her lover was dashed from her hands the time spent in Rome and Z return to ner native land. She had recovered from all the effects 158 ot* hei; imprisoiitiicrit. As she stood there in the kindly rays of the evening sun you would have said the girl of Palestine possessed that strange charm of presence, tliat wondrous synnnetry of form, that enchanting fascina- tion of countenance which poets and histor- ians of ancient times have ascribed to eastern queens. T\\v. .Jew(^ss seemed more royal now, more lovely than ever before — for sor- row and love had graced wdth more than beauty the olive brow that oidy lacked a crown. The stars cast long golden whispers down to whei'e she stood beneath the waving branches of the trees, praying : " Father, forgive them, they knew not what they did." Then a strojig purpose tilled her soul. It was an inspiration. Tliis would be a brighter day ! And taking a few steps forward she heard the disciples chanting near by, in a temple not made with hands, a hymn of the Nazarenes : Wc l)elieve in Iniuiaii kiii'hie.ss : Large Jiiuid the hiuis of men, Nobler far ir willing blindness Than in eensure\s keenest ken. We believe in self-denial, And its seciet throb of joy ; In the love that lives through trial, •■ Dying not though death destroy. m,x:i{!^mmm'^^mi*im 159 We believe in dreams of Duty, Wprning us to self-control, — Foregleauis of the glorious beauty That shall yet transform the soul • In the godlike wreck of nature >Sin doth in the sinner leave. That he may regain the stature He hath lost, — we do believe. We believe in love renewing All that sin has swept away, Leaven-like its work pursuing Night by night, and day by day : In the power of its remohling. In the grace of its reprieve ; In the glory of beholding Its perfection, we believe. We believe in love eternal, Fixed in God's unchanging will ; That, beneath the deep infernal, Hath a depth that's deeper still ! In its patience, its endurance To forbear and to retrieve. In the large and full assurance Of its triumphs — we believe. Turning to go homeward, she looked in- deed beauteous, some would say divine. " But listen ! " she said beneath her breath. " I heard some sound." A brighter day 1 Yes. 160 For there, before her stood her lover. " Zerola ! " It was the voice of a man enraptured. " Thaeon — my own ! " " My love, my love ! " he cried as he drew her to his bosom. Then for a while there was that silence which is sometimes the language of the purest and most passionate afiection. And as Zerola rested her head on her lover's breast, and Thaeon pressed his lips to those of his betrothed, they stood clasped in one long embrace, each listening while the other whispered those words which lovers long so much to hear, and told of the past dark years, and spoke of the brightening future. It is true. What great changes may take place within the limits of a single day ! When the sun again appeared above the eastern hills, it was shining upon a happy morning — the radiant bridal morning of Thaeon and Zerola op Nazareth. THE END