BRECKENKIDGE ELLIS
 
 &. 

 
 ADNAH 
 
 A Tale of The Time of Christ
 
 ADNAH 
 
 A Tale o! the Time ol Christ 
 
 By 
 
 J. BRECKENRIDGE ELLIS 
 
 Author of 
 Garcilaso," "The Dread and Fear of Kings," etc. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS 6 CO. 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 350^ 
 L4M- 
 
 Copyright, 1902, 
 By GEORGE W. JACOBS & Co. 
 
 Published October,
 
 Dedication 
 
 Whence comes the beauty of the Rose ? 
 Not in a day its wonder grows, 
 But many a night and morning sees 
 It drink the perfume of the breeze, 
 
 And draughts of clear-gold sunshine cooled in mellow dew, 
 And song of birds, and voice of love forever new. 
 Then, when at last its Day has come, with every grateful leaf un 
 furled, 
 It but returns in other form that which it borrowed from the world. 
 
 Whence comes a Book-thought ? Not as sped 
 Full-armed Minerva from the head. 
 Nay, many a passing year has seen 
 The dust-thoughts blown about some theme 
 Till it becomes one s own. This book is but the flower 
 Of thoughts long fed upon song, light, and hope, love s 
 
 dower. 
 
 So in this book I but return the borrowed gifts, true, pure and rare, 
 Which a FATHER and a MOTHER gave in other form of love 
 and care. 
 
 If there is music in this book, 
 From them its sweetest tones I took. 
 If sunshine gleams along its line, 
 It was their smiles that made it mine. 
 If truth eternal precious perfume breathes 
 Of heavenly message from its outspread leaves, 
 That, too, is borrowed. As the rose doth dedicate its bloom to 
 
 earth, 
 
 So I this tale to those from whom its modest merits have their 
 birth.
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. A LOOSE PLANK .... 9 
 
 II. THE PLANK IS NAILED UP l8 
 
 III. BLUE EYES ..... 28 
 
 iv. MIRIAM S PUNISHMENT 37 
 
 V. THE SEVENTH HOUR ... 47 
 
 VI. IN DANGER ..... 60 
 
 VII. THE TWO BROTHERS ... 66 
 
 VIII. ENTOMBED IN THE CAVE ... 76 
 
 IX. ONE WAY OF ESCAPE ... 86 
 
 x. MIRIAM S BIRTHDAY GIFT . . 96 
 
 XI. THE MAN OF THE ABYSS . . . 107 
 
 XII. A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD . 11 7 
 
 XIII. IN MID-AIR . . . . .124 
 
 XIV. ADNAH LEARNS THE TRUTH . -134 
 
 XV. REVENGE ..... 144 
 
 XVI. ALONE WITH HIS ENEMY . . . 156 
 
 xvii. THE CENTURION S SLAVE . . . 162 
 
 XVIII. THE GLADIATOR . . . 17! 
 
 XIX. IDDO ...... 189 
 
 XX. DESPAIR ...... 2O4 
 
 XXI. PURSUIT . 222
 
 8 
 
 Contents 
 
 XXII. MIRIAM S VOICE . . . 232 
 
 XXIII. THE VOICE OF LOVE . . . 242 
 
 XXIV. GOTHINUS ..... 254 
 XXV. ADNAH AND IDDO .... 260 
 
 XXVI. THE WATCHERS .... 275 
 
 XXVII. MUST ADNAH DIE ? . . . . 284 
 
 xxvin. THE GLADIATOR S LAST STRUGGLE . 293 
 
 XXIX. IDDO s VICTORY .... 302
 
 Adnah 
 
 A Tale of the Time of Christ 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A LOOSE PLANK 
 
 HERE, at last, was the opportunity for which 
 Miriam so long had waited. Her father, who was 
 one of King Herod s chief officers in Capernaum, 
 had departed for the custom-house. Her mother 
 and her brother Reuben had left home at the same 
 time, the latter to attend school. Thus Miriam and 
 the servants were left in possession of the large 
 estate. 
 
 She hurried into the front court where a fountain 
 sparkled in the midst of flowers; and the house, 
 freshly whitewashed, seemed to smile and say, 
 " Who would ever believe that I am made of black 
 lava?" 
 
 But Miriam did not pause to admire the beauty of 
 the court, for this she saw every day, she was 
 tired of it; and she never forgave the high stone 
 wall that surrounded it, excluding from sight the
 
 i o Adnah 
 
 slightest glimpse of the road. However, it was not 
 the street that excited her thirst for exploration, but 
 the court that adjoined her father s. In the cool of 
 the evening when the family were accustomed to 
 gather upon the flat roof of the house, Miriam 
 sometimes caught sight of a forlorn figure in the 
 next yard. It was a boy, older than herself, she 
 thought, and surely very miserable; for when the 
 family next door gathered upon their roof, this 
 youth did not ascend with them, but either crept 
 forth into the court to sit beside the fountain, or 
 else kept within doors. 
 
 Miriam often wondered why the boy was so sad, 
 and why he did not mingle with the others. " He 
 is a slave, no doubt," Reuben had suggested. Since 
 Reuben was two years older than Miriam, his sister 
 never dared to contradict him. But she was sure 
 the solitary child was no slave. "He is a very 
 wicked child, no doubt," her father had once sug 
 gested; "for you know how religious Iddo is, a 
 strict Pharisee. Iddo would not forbid a good child 
 from sitting with him and his wife upon the roof." 
 Again Miriam did not reply, although she felt cer 
 tain that the boy was not very wicked. 
 
 Yesterday one of the broad planks of the gate 
 that stood between the two courts, had suddenly 
 fallen to the ground, while a strong wind was
 
 A Loose Plank 1 1 
 
 blowing. One of the servants, an old man whose 
 name was Zuph, had replaced it. For, since Iddo 
 moved next door, this huge gate had never been 
 used. "I must make this strong with nails," said 
 Zuph. Then he went away and forgot all about it. 
 This was the opportunity for which Miriam had 
 waited. She hurried to the loose plank. It was an 
 hour after the noon meal, and Iddo, the Pharisee, 
 had left with his wife, or rather, he had been fol 
 lowed by his wife, since Iddo was too good a 
 Pharisee to make a woman his equal. And the boy 
 was in the court. Miriam had seen him from the 
 latticed window of an upper chamber. 
 
 Looking quickly behind her to see that none of 
 the servants were at the windows, the girl seized 
 the thick dusty board by means of a rusty spike 
 that had failed to do its duty. She tried to lift the 
 board out from among its neighbors, but it was too 
 heavy. She put forth a more vigorous effort, and 
 suddenly the top trembled, and then the entire 
 plank bent forward. She had barely time to spring 
 out of the way before it fell into the court at her 
 feet. She uttered a low cry of alarm, but in a brief 
 time recovered her courage and crept to the open 
 ing. There stood the boy, peering into her court. 
 
 "How shall I ever get it up again?" she ex 
 claimed.
 
 1 2 Adnah 
 
 "It fell yesterday," said the boy. "Get a slave 
 to put it up. But how did it fall ? For no wind 
 blows." 
 
 "I pulled it down," said Miriam. 
 
 The boy stared at her. "Will they not beat 
 you ? " he whispered. 
 
 Miriam laughed. "I am not afraid," she said. 
 " But why have you been crying ? " 
 
 "I have not." 
 
 "But the tears are not yet dry upon your face," 
 said Miriam. "When I cry it is because I am not a 
 boy; but why &oyou cry?" 
 
 "It is the water from the fountain," said the 
 other. "The water-drops splash upon my face 
 and you call them tears. But cry no more to be a 
 boy. It is no great thing to be a boy! Sometimes 
 I think I would rather be Iddo s dog, for then I 
 should have enough to eat." 
 
 " Why do you call your father so ? " 
 
 "Iddo is not my father, but my uncle." 
 
 "Is, then, your father dead ?" 
 
 " You had better call a slave to put up the plank," 
 said the boy sharply. "I do not wish to talk with 
 you!" 
 
 "Do not say that," exclaimed Miriam. "I will 
 not speak another word about your father. But 
 there is something I wish very much to know."
 
 A Loose Plank 13 
 
 " I can tell you nothing, for I know nothing. I 
 can neither read, nor write, and there is no one to 
 teach me the law. But now, there are tears in 
 your eyes, wherefore are they ? " 
 
 "Because you want me to go away, and you 
 have spoken to me, as others do not speak." 
 
 "I am sorry I have grieved you, Miriam, yes, 
 that is the name they call you. Often, ah, often, I 
 have longed to see Miriam, for they will not allow 
 me upon the housetop. And when your family is 
 gathered upon your house, I dare not look up to 
 see. So I have often sat wondering how looks the 
 girl they call Miriam, the girl who is tired of her 
 flowers and playthings, while I have nothing. 
 And when the plank fell, and I saw your face, it 
 was a dream coming true, but so much fairer than 
 the dream! But when you spoke of my father, a 
 devil entered within me." 
 
 "I will never, never mention him again," said 
 the girl. 
 
 "It is on his account that I am treated so," said 
 the other. "Is not the sin of the father visited 
 upon the child ? That is about all of Moses and the 
 prophets that / know! Well we will say no more 
 about it. Forgive my anger. Tell me what you 
 would learn." 
 
 " I would ask if you were at Cana last year,
 
 14 Adnah 
 
 when Iddo and his wife went down to the mar 
 riage feast." 
 
 "Iddo takes me nowhere. I know when you 
 mean, for then I was very ill. I heard Iddo say to 
 his wife, whose name is Hodesh, If he dies, 
 but no matter what he said." 
 
 "I am sorry you were not there. But you may 
 have heard your uncle speak of the wonderful thing 
 that happened there." 
 
 "He tells me nothing. But I pray you, tell me 
 what you heard, for there is none who ever speaks 
 with me, unless to say, Do this, or, Come, take 
 your beating, or, The master says you are to fast 
 this day. " 
 
 "Then this is what I heard," said Miriam; " for 
 one of the servants of Iddo told Zuph, and Zuph 
 told my father. At this marriage feast, the wine 
 gave out. There was a man there of Nazareth, 
 His name is Jesus. His mother said to Him, The 
 wine is all gone/ and her son said, Why do you 
 come to Me ? Am I the master of the house ? I 
 know you can give them whatever good thing they 
 need, His mother answered, or something like 
 that. Well, there happened to be a dozen big 
 water-pots standing along the wall, and Jesus said 
 to the servants, Bring water and fill them to the 
 brim. They did so. And Zuph says, that the
 
 A Loose Plank 15 
 
 servant of your uncle told him, that the water 
 turned into wine then and there, upon the spot! " 
 
 " It is a strange story," said the boy. " And if it 
 is true, He must be a strange man, this Jesus; a 
 magician, doubtless." 
 
 " I am sorry you were not there," said Miriam, 
 once more, "for I would know what word Jesus 
 said when He turned the water into wine, or how 
 He moved His hand, and how it tasted, after 
 wards." 
 
 "I would I knew the magic, also," said the other, 
 "for in that case, I would turn this whole fountain 
 into the choicest vintage; though to be plain, I 
 would rather convert these stones into bread and 
 meat." 
 
 "Stay here," cried Miriam, "and I will bring 
 you something." 
 
 " How swift and beautiful your feet! " exclaimed 
 the boy. "You go and come like a thought that 
 the mind has grown fond of. And what have we 
 here ? Dates, bread, cold mutton, and an angel ; 
 all four!" He began to eat ravenously. " Iddo 
 must not see this," he said apologetically, as he 
 took a large bite of meat. He was very thin and 
 white, and Miriam enjoyed his eating more than she 
 could have imagined. "Things don t taste very 
 good to me, any more," she mused! "There are
 
 16 Adnah 
 
 days and days when I would as soon not eat as eat. 
 But you have eaten bread, meat and dates; you 
 must save the angel for another time! " 
 
 "If I could only do something to make you as 
 happy! Iddo is a miser. That is why he makes 
 me fast so often, and feeds me upon bread and 
 water, till I grow a shadow. And he only keeps 
 one slave, the one who knows your Zuph. Iddo 
 is growing rich. He is a great Pharisee. He 
 spends most of his money in almsgiving, for 
 others to see. You think I ought not to speak so 
 of my uncle. Perhaps. How old are you ? " 
 
 "I am fourteen. But I dare not stay longer. I 
 am afraid they will find me here, does that show 
 I am doing wrong ? But I am not a very good girl. 
 I do not go to the Synagogue if I can help it. Any 
 way, religion is for men, Reuben says; Reuben is 
 my brother; he will be a priest. You must help 
 me lift up this plank, although you don t look very 
 strong, do you ? " 
 
 The boy blushed. "Why do you mock me?" 
 he returned. "I would not have thought that of 
 you." 
 
 " Why! " exclaimed Miriam. " It is for that very 
 reason, your not being strong, that I like you, 
 and talk to you. Don t you understand ? But I 
 must go, now. I would I knew your name; then
 
 A Loose Plank 
 
 1 7 
 
 when I see you in the court, I can give my thought 
 a name, and send it to you." 
 
 "I am Adnah," said the boy, "and my age is 
 sixteen. And the next time you are upon the roof 
 of your house, and I am in my court, I will look up, 
 and see you, and think, There are good wishes for 
 me up in the blue sky! 
 
 The heavy plank was now in place once more. 
 " Good-bye," said Miriam. "Good-bye," answered 
 Adnah. The girl knocked with her knuckles upon 
 her side of the plank. "What a friendly sound 
 that is!" cried Adnah, and he knocked also. Then 
 Miriam ran away.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE PLANK IS NAILED UP 
 
 " I HAVE been looking for you, Zuph," said 
 Miriam. " Let us sit upon this bench. I have a 
 favor to ask." 
 
 The old servant smiled kindly at the girl, and 
 obediently followed her across the court to a spot 
 where the flowers formed a cozy retreat. "Now 
 we are all alone, Zuph, and you are to hear my 
 secret. It is this, that a very unhappy boy lives on 
 the other side of that ugly fence, a boy who never 
 has enough to eat, and no one to talk to. And al 
 though the house is large, and his uncle is rich, 
 for Iddo is not his father, does that matter? For 
 if I lived in the palace of King Herod, and there 
 should be no love for me, I might as well be a bird 
 in a cage." 
 
 "How know you these facts and this philos 
 ophy ?" asked the old man, rumpling his white hair 
 in some perplexity. 
 
 "As to how I know these facts, that is a 
 mystery. As to philosophy, I know it not. But 
 
 when one is without food, he is apt to be hungry, 
 
 18
 
 The Plank is Nailed Up 19 
 
 is it not so ? His uncle is a miser, and starves 
 him." 
 
 " I cannot imagine how you know these things," 
 remarked the old man. "Who has been here? 
 Surely the gate has not been opened." 
 
 Miriam laughed. "I have a story you do not 
 know. But I will tell it, if first you tell again about 
 that marriage feast in Cana." 
 
 " You have heard it twenty times, Miriam." 
 
 " But I like to hear it over and over again. It is 
 just as strange as when it was new." 
 
 " Iddo s slave told me," said Zuph. " He went 
 with his master to this feast. There was great re 
 joicing, and three days were to be the limit of the 
 festivities. But it appears that the bridegroom was 
 so taken up with thoughts of his fair bride, that he 
 had failed to provide for the wants of his guests. 
 The wine gave out. At this feast was Mary, the 
 widow of Joseph of Nazareth, and her son, Jesus. 
 His mother told Him the wine was no more. There 
 happened to be eight water-pots 
 
 " Was it eight ? I told Adnah twelve." 
 
 "And who is Adnah?" demanded the old man. 
 " And where have you been telling this tale ?" 
 
 Miriam laughed. "1 will tell you story for 
 story," she said. "But go on; eight water- 
 pots
 
 2o Adnah 
 
 "And Jesus turned the water into wine. Here 
 is a strange thing; only the water that was drawn 
 from the vessels became wine; that in the vessels 
 was still sparkling water. And the master of the 
 feast said it was the best they had drunk. You see, 
 he didn t know where it came from." 
 
 " And did no one know but the servants ? " 
 
 "Yes, Jesus has five followers, who think Him 
 some great one. Four of them are of Bethsaida, 
 you know that little town just north of here. John 
 and Philip, are two, and the other two are brothers; 
 Andrew and Simon. The fifth lives in Cana, itself. 
 He is Nathanael. They saw what Jesus did, and 
 now they believe Him to be some great prophet. 
 But who is this Adnah ?" 
 
 " In a moment, Zuph. But why do these five 
 men follow Jesus ? Have they no homes of their 
 own?" 
 
 " I know not. But this I know, that Jesus is but 
 a simple carpenter. However, there are most 
 marvelous tales about Him, and these I have not 
 from Iddo s slave, but from many who have seen 
 Him. But why should I speak these things ? Are 
 you not the daughter of a nobleman, a great Sad- 
 ducee, the officer of King Herod ? It is not for 
 your ears to learn of a poor carpenter! " 
 
 "Ah, but tell me, dear Zuph. My ears have
 
 The Plank is Nailed Up 21 
 
 never been proud because their mistress is the 
 daughter of a nobleman." 
 
 "That is true, you are a kind child, Miriam, 
 and never impatient with an old man. Jesus is 
 about thirty years old. Now, what I am about to 
 tell you are reports, merely. I know not if half is 
 true. I care not if you disbelieve it all, so you are 
 entertained. When Jesus was born, some great 
 men from the far East came to do Him honor be 
 cause they thought He was a prince and would one 
 day become king over the Jews. Herod, the Great, 
 the father of our King Herod, heard of the birth, 
 and being naturally jealous of any one in power, 
 and always afraid his throne would pass to another, 
 decided to kill the child. Joseph heard of his in 
 tention, and went far away to Egypt with his wife 
 and babe. Herod had every infant in that part of 
 the country killed from two years old and under, 
 thinking he would certainly destroy the prince, 
 if prince He was. 
 
 "After Herod the Great died, the family came to 
 Nazareth. Joseph was a carpenter, and he followed 
 his trade. He had other children, sons and daugh 
 ters, but somehow, they were never just like Jesus. 
 They were not educated; no one taught them to 
 read and write. The others didn t want to learn. 
 But Jesus was studious. He loved the synagogue,
 
 22 Adnah 
 
 and He would listen to the law with such an at 
 tentive face and large serious eyes! as if His child 
 ish mind was seeking to grasp its meaning, 
 something that is beyond the accomplishment 
 of a lifetime, He was the admiration of the 
 scribes. They said, That lad will one day be 
 a great Rabbi, for you know the poorest and 
 lowliest may, by study, become famous as a 
 teacher. 
 
 "When He was twelve or thirteen years old, His 
 parents took Him up to Jerusalem to the feast of 
 the passover. The robbers were very numerous in 
 those days, just as they are now, and in the same 
 way as now, many people went together. You 
 have heard of Simon the leper ? " 
 
 Miriam shuddered. " Yes, I have heard." 
 
 " He was not a leper, then. He lived in Bethany. 
 He met the caravan that went up from Nazareth, he 
 and his family." 
 
 "I never heard that the leper has a family," said 
 the girl. 
 
 "Yes, he has a son, of about the same age as 
 Jesus, whose name is Lazarus. It is from Lazarus 
 that I got this story. The two boys became greatly 
 attached to each other on the journey, and during 
 the seven days of the feast. They were much 
 alike in their gentleness and kindness. On the
 
 The Plank is Nailed Up 23 
 
 eighth day, the caravan set out on its return. 
 Scarcely had they lost Jerusalem in the distance, 
 when the rumor of a band of thieves spread among 
 them. The women were put in the midst, and the 
 men stood with stout clubs waiting for an attack. 
 Suddenly Lazarus cried out, Where is Jesus? 
 And sure enough, the carpenter s son was not to be 
 found ! Full of uneasiness the whole party hastened 
 back, searching along the way, thinking He might 
 have been captured and carried off for ransom. 
 They entered the city, and went to the inn where 
 Mary and Joseph had been staying. Nothing had 
 been seen of the boy. Perhaps He is at the 
 Temple, said Lazarus. 
 
 "And there they found Him! Mary asked, 
 Jesus, why have you treated us so? Your father 
 and I have been looking everywhere for you, and 
 our hearts were torn with fears and grief. The 
 boy answered, It is strange you searched for Me; 
 you might have known I would be only in one 
 place, the Temple. Do you not know, He said, 
 that I must be about My Father s business? 
 Those were His words; Lazarus heard them. 
 What did He mean ? Surely a strange boy was 
 this son of Joseph! If you will believe me, Miriam, 
 that child was surrounded by a circle of doctors, 
 and was listening attentively to their words, and
 
 24 Adnah 
 
 answering their difficult questions in such a man 
 ner as to overwhelm them with astonishment." 
 " What sort of questions were they, Zuph ? " 
 " Questions about the Christ who is to come." 
 "The Christ?" repeated Miriam. "Who is 
 that ? " 
 
 "No matter, dear. This is not for women to 
 know. Besides, your father, as a Sadducee, does 
 not believe in any such. But Jesus went back with 
 His parents and lived with them, and worked at 
 the trade. Joseph died but this is enough. You 
 must tell me of Adnah." 
 
 "Dear Zuph, tell me more about Jesus. I know 
 I should have loved Him. Tell every word." 
 
 "There s little more, that I know. Year by year 
 He grew more and more unlike His brothers and 
 sisters. He seemed to be always thinking, think 
 ing, thinking. His face grew brighter as if there 
 was an inward light that flamed higher all the time. 
 And although the living was sufficient, and affairs 
 went well, a sadness began to settle upon Him, as 
 if He felt more and more some strange, wild destiny. 
 Yet when He was with others, He strove to throw 
 aside this melancholy. He was accustomed to 
 wander at night in solitude, and sometimes when 
 He returned there would be tears in His eyes. He 
 was never heard to blame Providence, nor to cen-
 
 The Plank is Nailed Up 25 
 
 sure the faults of the poor. Once He disappeared 
 for forty days and nights in the wilderness, and 
 when He came back, He was changed. He wore 
 the look of a man who has accepted the inevitable 
 with meekness, and who has resolved to bear sor 
 row with cheerfulness. Yet what is this sorrow ? 
 Nobody knows. 
 
 "After He turned the water into wine, He and 
 His disciples went up to Jerusalem to the feast. 
 After that I know nothing. It has been nine or ten 
 months ago. Now, who is Adnah ?" 
 
 "He is the boy who lives next door. And oh, 
 Zuph! this is my request, do not nail up that loose 
 plank in the gate! " 
 
 "Ha!" cried Zuph. "Now I see it all! So it 
 was through the opening that you two became 
 acquainted. Who would have thought it! " 
 
 "But, Zuph, you are not angry? You will leave 
 the board loose ?" 
 
 "Let it be nailed up at once!" said an angry 
 voice behind them. Miriam turned pale. It was 
 her brother, Reuben. "So you have spoken to 
 that wretch!" continued the boy advancing. 
 "Well it is, that the Rabbi was sick and we held no 
 school to-day! Some one is needed to watch over 
 you. What will you do next, 1 wonder? Truly 
 did our wise Rabbi say, but yesterday, there are
 
 26 Adnah 
 
 two things never to be left alone; a fire, and a 
 woman. " 
 
 Reuben was a handsome youth, sixteen years old, 
 and full of the authority that belonged to so great 
 an age. Tears sprang to Miriam s eyes. " I saw 
 no harm in speaking to him," she said. 
 
 "It is not for a girl to see the wrong, nor the 
 right," said Reuben more calmly. " I do not blame 
 you, for such is your nature. But while 1 do not 
 blame, I shall protect, for you are my sister. Be 
 sides, if you knew about that Adnah, even you, 
 perhaps, 1 am not sure, but perhaps you, would 
 scorn him." 
 
 "Tell me," said Miriam, while old Zuph hastened 
 away to nail up the plank. 
 
 Reuben s voice assumed tones of awful meaning. 
 "Miriam, girl, that Adnah is the son of a thief! His 
 father is even now a slave in the palace of Pontius 
 Pilate. Pilate took a fancy to him, and spared him 
 from the cross. Do you understand ? Justice de 
 manded his crucifixion! " 
 
 " But what did Adnah do?" inquired Miriam. 
 
 " What did he do ? Is not his father s sin his sin ? 
 But you do not know these things. It is well. The 
 law is not for women." 
 
 "Do tell me this, Reuben, since you have studied 
 all such matters. Do you believe in angels ? "
 
 The Plank is Nailed Up 27 
 
 " I am a Sadducee, and believe in nothing but the 
 law. Angels? No more than in the resurrection! 
 Who has been speaking to you of angels ? Old 
 Zuph ? " 
 
 "No, brother." 
 
 "Then it was this profligate thief, Adnah. For 
 there is no talk of angels in this house! What said 
 he ? I command you to tell." 
 
 " He said nothing, only he called me one." 
 
 For a moment Reuben stood spellbound in his 
 wrath. Then he dashed across the court to Zuph. 
 "Hammer, hammer with a will!" he said. "And 
 if there are not enough nails in Capernaum, send to 
 Cana!
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BLUE EYES 
 
 MIRIAM was very unhappy until her mother re 
 turned from her visit. The girl sat in the large liv 
 ing-room, furtively watching her brother. Reuben 
 held a long roll in his hand, his eyes austerely fas 
 tened upon the Hebrew text. Once she had spoken. 
 "Brother, will you tell about Adnah?" Reuben 
 did not lift his eyes. Instead of answering, he read 
 aloud, 
 
 " If a thief be found breaking up, and be smitten 
 that he die, there shall be no blood shed for him. " 
 Why did he read about thieves ? Was it not because 
 Adnah s father was a thief ? And so by the law, the 
 killing of a thief is not to be a matter of retaliation. 
 A thief is nothing, his life of no account. But 
 what then? Adnah was no thief. Could he help 
 what his father had done ? Was he not to be pitied 
 for having such a father? True, the law held him 
 guilty, or at least so Reuben said, and Reuben must 
 know; but Reuben had said, also, that the law was 
 not for women. Then Miriam could pity Adnah; 
 
 and she did, with all her heart. 
 
 28
 
 Blue Eyes 29 
 
 Her mother returned. Miriam said to herself, 
 "Now Reuben will tell." But her brother put up 
 his roll, still looking stern and threatening. The 
 mother had many things to relate concerning her 
 visit. Her daughter listened with a heavy weight 
 upon her heart. Would her mother smile so ten 
 derly, and speak so cheerily, if she knew about that 
 episode of the loose plank? "I am sorry," she 
 thought, "so very sorry ! If the plank were^ow?, 
 I would never go there again." 
 
 "How still you are, my daughter!" said the 
 other at last. "You ask not a word about your 
 aunt. And Reuben, you appear sorrowful. Has 
 anything happened ? " 
 
 Miriam held her breath. 
 
 Reuben looked upon the floor. " It is nothing," 
 he said and left the room. Miriam s eyes filled with 
 tears. She loved her brother dearly, and she 
 hastened after him, although she felt a little 
 afraid. 
 
 "My brother," she said, "I am so very sorry it 
 happened. I will never do that again." 
 
 "Truly, since the plank is nailed up," returned 
 Reuben coldly. 
 
 " But even if it were loose! It is because I have 
 offended you; and I fear my mother and father will 
 feel as you. Are you going to tell about it ? "
 
 30 Adnah 
 
 "So that is it!" said Reuben. " I have not yet 
 made up my mind." 
 
 "No, that is not it, Reuben. Well you know 
 how I ever seek to please you, my brother. What 
 would I not do to increase your happiness! But 
 always, yes, always, you treat me as if I were alto 
 gether out of your life." 
 
 "No, Miriam, you are unjust. My affection for 
 you is not shown in idle words, but in the nailing 
 up of planks and in making other hedges about 
 you." 
 
 "Hedges! It is because I am a girl that no trust 
 can be put in me." 
 
 "Miriam, we might stand here and argue for 
 hours, but that would not alter this fact; you have 
 sinned. A sin which is not punished, is like a good 
 deed unrewarded. However, I do not say I shall 
 tell about your misdeed. But leave me now; I 
 would meditate, and your face reminds me of 
 your secret dealings with that wretched Adnah." 
 
 A little after sunset, Miriam s father returned 
 home, his manner denoting a pleasant excitement. 
 "A treat for us all," he cried. "Lucius, the cen 
 turion, takes a moonlight ride upon the sea to 
 night, and he has invited me and my family. Get 
 you fin? apparel, little girl, and look as brave as you 
 may! "
 
 Blue Eyes 31 
 
 Miriam looked at Reuben beseechingly. Suppose 
 he should speak now! In that case, perhaps she 
 would be ordered to remain with the servants. 
 "Why don t you hurry?" Reuben asked her, not 
 unkindly. She could have fallen at his feet with 
 joy at his tone. Perhaps he would never tell about 
 her adventure; perhaps he thought her punished 
 enough. 
 
 There were two reasons why Joel, the father of 
 Reuben, did not hesitate to associate with a Roman. 
 In the first place, he was a Sadducee, and his party 
 was the friend of Rome, having a contempt for the 
 "purifications" of the Pharisees. In the second 
 place, this centurion was only half a pagan. He 
 had lost all belief in his own gods, and being won 
 by the purer religion of the Jews, he had built for 
 them the beautiful marble synagogue in Capernaum. 
 
 The moon rose early, and its light fell upon the 
 deck of a small Roman galley which the centurion 
 had built for his pleasure. The Roman officers and 
 their wives and children had thrown off the restraint 
 of garrison life. Joel, as a nobleman, the chief 
 official of the custom, mingled with them as an 
 equal, although, of course, it was never forgotten 
 that he had not been born in Rome. Lucius the 
 centurion seated himself upon a rich cushion by the 
 side of Anna, the wife of Joel, while at his feet lay
 
 32 Adnah 
 
 a boy of about Reuben s age, whose features were 
 neither Roman, Jewish, nor Grecian. Miriam, who 
 sat beside Reuben, looked at the boy curiously, 
 wondering to what barbarous nation he belonged. 
 The boy s eyes were blue, and as fair as the Sea of 
 Galilee over which the galley-slaves were speeding 
 the ship. His hair was long and yellow, like the 
 moonlight which flooded the deck. His face and 
 hands were white, and in contrast with them, 
 Reuben s face appeared unusually stern and dark. 
 The monotonous splash of the oars, the rushing of 
 the water as it sped past the vessel, and the con 
 tinuous hum of voices, mingled with music from a 
 band of players. 
 
 It was the gayest scene in which Miriam had ever 
 been placed. With deep breaths of delight she 
 watched the great moon circling above the hills 
 which drew their skirts back from the water s edge; 
 and the line of brilliant white left in the wake of 
 the ship, which foamed and bubbled till far away it 
 melted and became lost in blue; and that strange 
 white face of the blue-eyed youth. Presently she 
 stole forth her hand and found Reuben s and drew 
 his hand to her. "Is it not all beautiful?" she 
 said. 
 
 Reuben drew his hand quickly away. "Your 
 touch is cold," he said the next moment, as if to ex-
 
 Blue Eyes 33 
 
 plain his impatience. But Miriam suddenly remem 
 bered that he was offended, she had forgotten all 
 about her sorrow. And then tears came to her eyes 
 and blotted out the sea and the moon, and happi 
 ness. 
 
 Lucius, the centurion, was speaking to Anna. 
 " Does not Iddo s house adjoin yours ? " 
 
 "It does," Miriam s mother replied. " There is 
 only a high wall between. Reuben began to 
 cough significantly. Miriam turned cold. 
 
 "So 1 thought. And I suppose he is no great 
 friend of your husband, since Iddo is a Pharisee?" 
 
 "He has a true Pharisee s contempt for us all," 
 said Anna, smiling contentedly. 
 
 The Roman laughed. " I would you could have 
 seen him to-day! He passed me in the street, and 
 my robe touched his hand. He scowled. See 
 what trouble you have given me! he snarled. 
 1 What trouble, my friend ? I asked. What 
 trouble? said he; must not I now go home and 
 baptize myself and all my garments in water ? for 
 a Gentile has polluted me with his touch! And 
 away went he. By the way, that boy who lives 
 with him his nephew, he is the son of a thief, 
 Iddo s brother. But Iddo has renounced his brother, 
 of course, as he is now Pilate s slave." 
 
 Reuben groaned.
 
 34 Adnah 
 
 "Yes, this brother of Iddo, his name is Samuel, 
 right good cause have I to know ! For Samuel 
 was under me, he sat at the receipt of custom. It 
 appears that he would never study, when young, 
 or cultivate a liking for the law. He was an easy 
 going fellow, with a healthy scorn for his brother s 
 sect. So he was content to be a publican, and col 
 lect the taxes. That is how he became a thief. He 
 had no friends on account of his trade, for who will 
 speak with a publican, my our country ? I suppose 
 the temptation was too great, and he saw before 
 him a short cut to riches. So his receipts dimin 
 ished. I suspected and watched. His account was 
 correct, but the money in his bag, where was it ? 
 So he became subject to Rome, and Pilate took a 
 fancy to him and spared him the cross. There is 
 another man in his place, now, with two names, it 
 appears, for some call him Levi, but he calls himself 
 Matthew." 
 
 "But this brother of Iddo, this thief whom you 
 call Samuel," said Reuben, "has he a family ?" 
 
 "Only the boy. His wife, there is another 
 strange thing, is a Samaritan woman. Oh, this 
 Samuel was a reckless fellow, by all accounts! His 
 wife went back to Samaria, where she married four 
 more times, her husbands having a convenient 
 manner of dying. If she has got her a sixth hus-
 
 Blue Eyes 35 
 
 band, now, I know not. But one thing is sure, 
 she cared nothing for her son, Adnah." 
 
 "Then this Adnah s father is not only a thief, but 
 his mother a Samaritan! " exclaimed Reuben. 
 
 "You have said," replied the Roman. Reuben 
 looked at Miriam. "Now do you not hate this 
 wretched son?" he whispered. A sudden spirit of 
 revolt rose up within the girl. She turned to the 
 centurion. " But wherein is Adnah to blame ? " she 
 demanded in a clear voice. 
 
 " Miriam! " exclaimed her mother. "Is it fora 
 girl to speak in the presence of men ?" 
 
 "She speaks as a Roman!" cried Lucius admir 
 ingly. "I thought no Jew would have asked that 
 question! " Miriam became suddenly ashamed and 
 hung her head. Reuben rose impatiently, and 
 backed from her, as if he could no longer endure 
 her presence. But his youthful dignity was destined 
 to a brief existence. He had forgotten that he was 
 near the railing of the deck, and as he retreated with 
 indignant eyes and tossing hair, he suddenly struck 
 against the top-rail, lost his balance and fell back 
 ward. His body disappeared from sight in the very 
 water that was being beaten by the strokes of the 
 massive oars. Anna and Miriam each gave a loud 
 shriek, for his doom appeared certain. The soldiers 
 in their heavy armor remained motionless, surprised
 
 36 Adnah 
 
 at the cries, and Joel, the father, was so far away 
 that he did not even notice the excitement. 
 
 The rowers were each chained by a leg to the 
 bench upon which they sat, so no help was to be 
 expected from these slaves. The centurion in a 
 hoarse voice shouted to the master to stop the ship. 
 The command was obeyed, but not instantly, since 
 the ship had gained an impetus which was for a 
 time irresistible. In the meantime Miriam, without 
 an instant s hesitation, had run to the youth with the 
 yellow hair and blue eyes. She scarcely knew why 
 she did so, unless it was because she had observed 
 his strong, massive limbs, and the look of gentle 
 ness, yet resolution, upon his face. The boy still 
 sat cross-legged upon the deck. Miriam fell upon 
 her knees beside him and clasped her hands wildly. 
 " You can save him!" she faltered. 
 
 The youth sprung to his feet and lifted her from 
 her knees. Then he fell upon one knee before her, 
 and said, in a foreign accent, " I ask no more, than 
 to die for you." The next moment he rose, and, 
 leaping upon the top-rail, stood poised in that dan 
 gerous position, while his flashing blue eyes scanned 
 the water eagerly. Suddenly he threw himself into 
 the sea.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MIRIAM S PUNISHMENT 
 
 REUBEN lay cold and dripping upon the deck. He 
 was still unconscious. The youth who had rescued 
 him from the sea, was below. Anna and Joel were 
 chafing the limbs of their son. Miriam wept apart. 
 Lucius, the centurion, had taken his own red cloak 
 from his shoulders to wrap about the boy. The 
 ship had been turned about, and was making for 
 the northwestern shore where Capernaum s white 
 washed houses gleamed in the moonlight. The 
 band of players had stopped their music, and the 
 Roman soldiers conversed in low tones. 
 
 At last the pale boy sighed and opened his eyes. 
 Anna gave a glad exclamation, at which Miriam 
 sank down beside her brother in the sudden revul 
 sion of hope. Now she dared open her eyes and 
 look at him. Yes, he was alive! Miriam caught 
 the passive hand and pressed it to her lips. " What 
 is it?" Reuben asked. "Why are your faces so 
 anxious ? But it is very cold ? " 
 
 "We shall soon be home," said his father. 
 "You fell into the sea, but now you are safe 
 enough." 
 
 37
 
 38 Adnah 
 
 Reuben rose upon one elbow. "Who drew me 
 from the water?" he asked, weakly; "for I know 
 nothing." 
 
 "It was the youth with the blue eyes," said 
 Miriam. His sister s voice recalled him completely 
 to himself. Why was she holding his hand ? The 
 boy drew it away, as he said to her in low tones, 
 "What know you of the color of men s eyes?" 
 Certainly this sister was a great care to him; he 
 vaguely wondered what would become of her, when 
 he went up to Jerusalem, as he would soon go, to 
 be initiated into the priesthood. Who, then, would 
 call her "Angel"? Whose eyes would she then 
 find blue ? She was not like other girls, content to 
 keep snugly in the women s quarters till old enough 
 to walk the streets with a discreet veil hiding her 
 face. She seemed ever thinking of the outside 
 world, and she took an unlawful interest in green 
 fields and market-places, and even in throngs of 
 beggars and sinners. 
 
 "Who is this blue-eyed person?" inquired Joel; 
 "for we owe him thanks, and something better." 
 
 " He is my slave," said the centurion, "a faithful 
 lad, but a barbarian. One of our legions was sack 
 ing a town in Lower Germany, when I chanced 
 upon him, then about three years old, lying deserted 
 in a hut of earth and stone."
 
 Miriam s Punishment 39 
 
 " I noted him as he sat at your feet," said Anna. 
 " I wonder his parents would desert so fair a child." 
 
 Lucius shrugged his broad shoulders. "No 
 choice of theirs, I warrant you, lady! For his 
 father was put to the sword, after killing many 
 of our auxiliaries, his own countrymen, against 
 whom he was outrageously incensed, because they 
 had entered our service against their native country, 
 for pay." 
 
 "And his mother?" asked Anna. 
 
 "I forget who took her captive," replied the 
 Roman. " But whoever it was, sent her as a pres 
 ent to our most glorious emperor, the saintly Tibe 
 rius, for she also was fair. As for me, I took this 
 infant, and went lugging him from camp to camp, 
 till 1 grew fond of him, and he of me. For I never 
 married, lady; and it was sweet to feel his tiny 
 fingers close upon my great hand, as if he would 
 say, You are now my only hope. Perhaps he did 
 say so, in his barbarous tongue." 
 
 " I pray you call him up," said Joel, "and though 
 he is your slave, do not forbid me giving him a 
 token of my gratitude." 
 
 "Well well as you like. Soldier, call for me 
 Gothinus, I named him so, because he was of the 
 tribe of the Gothini." The slave quickly appeared, 
 dressed in dry apparel, and fresh and rosy, as if the
 
 4.O Adnah 
 
 cold bath had been much to his liking. "These 
 Germans, you can never kill them," said the cen 
 turion, giving Gothinus a hearty blow upon the 
 back that would have sent Reuben reeling, at his 
 strongest. The German smiled merrily, and it was 
 easily to be discerned that Lucius treated him more 
 as a son than as a slave. 
 
 "Slave," said Joel, kindly, " I wish to thank you 
 for the recovery of my son." Gothinus smiled, 
 but made no answer except his bow, for it was not 
 etiquette to speak to a freeman. 
 
 "But thanks are not enough," continued Joel, 
 thrusting his hand into his pocket, "though doubt 
 less they are better than nothing. Since the value 
 of a slave is thirty shekels, and since my son is 
 worth twice as much to me as a slave, and since 
 we never give more than a sixtieth part of the 
 value of a thing for the thing , if we can help it, 
 behold, here is a shekel. Take it, my boy." 
 "Ask not this of me, also," said Gothinus. 
 " How say you ? Is it not enough ? " 
 "Yes, my lord; a shekel too much." 
 " But I insist. Come, you must obey me! " 
 "I saved your son," said Gothinus, "and that I 
 did willingly. But to take money is more than I 
 can do for any man, unless my master bids me," 
 he added, looking beseechingly at Lucius.
 
 Miriam s Punishment 41 
 
 "He is a strange barbarian," said Lucius, shaking 
 his massive head. " Remember, a German! " 
 
 "If you will not take it from any man, perhaps 
 you will from my daughter. Here, Miriam, offer 
 the money to this very peculiar slave." 
 
 Reuben watched his sister, and was scandalized 
 to see that she showed not the least hesitation, or 
 embarrassment. 
 
 "Yes, just as if she were a boy!" he thought. 
 "She does not draw back, but takes the shekel in 
 her hand. So far from her cheeks blushing with 
 righteous modesty, her eyes sparkle, yes, actually 
 sparkle with pleasure! " Reuben groaned. 
 
 " Are you in pain, my son ?" Anna asked. 
 
 Miriam advanced fearlessly to the blue-eyed slave, 
 just as if she were not a Jewess. " I pray you take 
 the money," she said, "and with it, our love. And 
 to-night your name shall be first in my prayers." 
 
 Gothinus took the money gravely. 
 
 "Now, my son," cried Joel, in high spirits, "it 
 is your turn to say a word of thanks." 
 
 "If any more can be said," replied Reuben, 
 coldly, " let it be imagined that I have said it! He 
 has the money, and he has been promised our love; 
 and my sister has agreed to pray for a Gentile." 
 
 "A Jew, a Jew!" cried Lucius, laughing. "I 
 myself think you have had your share, Gothinus!
 
 42 Adnah 
 
 Get below, or we poor Romans will receive not a 
 glance! " 
 
 Reuben thought to himself, " And now my sister 
 has two friends; the son of a thief, and the slave of 
 a Gentile! " As he mused over this, it suddenly oc 
 curred to him that his sister took delight in others 
 because he, himself, gave her little attention. He 
 loved Miriam, though he did not think it consistent 
 with his dignity to proclaim the fact. Now it ap 
 peared otherwise. As they went up the street 
 towards their home, he fell behind with Miriam. 
 As they entered a dark shadow, he took her hand. 
 She was overjoyed. "I know you are glad," he 
 said, "that your brother does not lie out yonder in 
 the still sea." 
 
 "Never would I again have been happy," said 
 Miriam with a sudden sob. " It was as if the sun 
 of my life was about to go out." 
 
 "Ah, "said Reuben, "but there would have re 
 mained the stars! " 
 
 " I would never have seen them," returned 
 Miriam, "for a cloud would have been be 
 tween." 
 
 " Then, dear sister, since I am so much to you, 
 why will you not try more to please me ? Hold 
 this thief, Adnah, in contempt 
 
 " Adnah is no thief, brother."
 
 Miriam s Punishment 43 
 
 " But his father is; and pray not for this heathen 
 German, this proud Gentile! " 
 
 " Dear brother, what would not I do for you, be 
 cause you have been saved ? I can say to my feet, 
 Go thither, and they go; or to my hand, Do 
 this, and behold, the thing is done. But I cannot 
 say to my mind, Think thus, or to my heart, 
 Here thou shalt love, and here hold in contempt! 
 For the soul is not a horse that one may turn it over 
 to another s guiding and spurring." 
 
 Reuben drew away his hand. " You mock! " 
 
 "No, brother. For if I were not true, I would 
 promise anything to content you. But never will I 
 promise that which my heart whispers, You shall 
 not perform! 
 
 " Girl," said Reuben severely, "you are a model 
 to be copied, in your words! but when it comes 
 to peering through broken planks, but I say no 
 more. I pray you go on with your mother, and 
 leave me to my thoughts." 
 
 The next day Reuben was ill from his drenching 
 in the lake, but, while he could not attend school, 
 he would not go to bed. At noon Miriam came to 
 him and said, " Reuben, may I not bake for you 
 your favorite cake ? " 
 
 " Why does not mother prepare the meal ?" in 
 quired Reuben.
 
 44 Adnah 
 
 "So she does; but I would like to do this for 
 you." 
 
 "I shall not be sick," returned the other impa 
 tiently. "To-morrow I shall be at school. I do 
 not need any one to do things for me. Let mother 
 cook what she pleases. But I think it my duty to 
 tell about that loose plank." 
 
 " Reuben! " 
 
 " Well, may be not; we shall see." 
 
 At night he was worse, but he insisted on sitting 
 with the others upon the flat roof. Miriam glanced 
 shyly into the neighboring court. There sat Adnah 
 beside the fountain, while Iddo and his wife were 
 upon their housetop. Iddo was praying at the top 
 of his voice, in the manner of Pharisees. Reuben 
 caught Miriam looking at the forlorn figure by the 
 fountain. When she found herself watched, she 
 started and turned pale. " It is my duty ! " he whis 
 pered. Suddenly Miriam sprang up and fell upon 
 her knees beside Joel. 
 
 " Father," she said, speaking rapidly. "I have 
 been very wicked and I must tell you all about it, 
 for it is breaking my heart." 
 
 " I was not going to tell," spoke up Reuben with 
 the irritation that belongs by right to the sick. 
 " Come and take your seat." 
 
 But Miriam had gone too far to retreat. "A
 
 Miriam s Punishment 45 
 
 plank was loose in the gate. I pulled it away and 
 talked to that boy, Iddo s nephew. It was yester 
 day, when no one saw me. 1 knew it was wrong, 
 but I didn t seem to care though it was. But 
 since then, my life has been very unhappy. And I 
 carried Adnah things to eat because he was so 
 hungry. And then I came away." 
 
 " But not before Adnah had hailed her as an 
 angel," spoke up Reuben, who would not have told 
 this, if he had not been pverpowered by surprise 
 and shame at hearing of the provisions. 
 
 Miriam burst into tears and hid her face upon 
 Joel s knee. " Well, my daughter," said her father, 
 "it was a great wickedness, without doubt! A 
 fearful thing, indeed, to feed one who was hungry! 
 But it seems that the worst part is that you did it 
 secretly." 
 
 " Yes, yes, and I am very miserable, father." 
 
 "What! Have you not been miserable long 
 enough? Kiss me, Miriam, and forget it all!" 
 She fell into his arms, but Anna looked very grave. 
 
 "Adnah, the son of a thief!" expostulated 
 Reuben. 
 
 " My son speaks with wisdom," said Anna. 
 
 " And he called her angel, " cried Reuben. 
 
 " I know not if there be so many as two angels," 
 observed Joel, as he smoothed Miriam s hair. " But
 
 46 Adnah 
 
 if there are, Miriam is certainly one, and Adnah was 
 right. If there is but one angel, her name is Anna, 
 and Adnah was wrong." 
 
 " Joel," said Anna, " treat not this case so lightly. 
 See how Reuben is grieved! " 
 
 "Thus I shall settle the case," said Joel, rising 
 and leaning over the parapet. " Zuph, come up, 
 for I would speak with you." Then turning to 
 Miriam, "My daughter, promise me never again 
 to secretly remove a plank from that gate, or hold 
 converse with any one through openings in walls." 
 
 Miriam smiled through her tears. " How could 1 
 remove one of those planks, father?" 
 
 " But come! a promise! " 
 
 "Then I promise, indeed." 
 
 By this time, white-haired Zuph had joined them. 
 "Zuph, "said his master, " to-morrow when Iddo 
 is from home, draw out every nail from that plank, 
 which I have reason to suppose, by my son s ex 
 pression, he has put into it; and leave the plank 
 loose! " 
 
 " It is folly," said Anna. 
 
 "No, dear wife, it is faith." 
 
 Miriam kissed her father again.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE SEVENTH HOUR 
 
 THE next morning Reuben was not well enough 
 to leave his bed. His cheeks were flushed with 
 fever. "I want no physician," he persisted. "I 
 can be sick enough without hiring an assistant." 
 Joel s duty called him to the custom-house, and all 
 morning Anna and Miriam stayed in the sick cham 
 ber. Of course these two were uneasy, which irri 
 tated the youth. "I shall be up to-morrow," he 
 said. "I wish you would do as usual, and not sit 
 so silent, looking at me." But Anna remained by 
 his side. Miriam longed for her mother s place, but 
 her mother had no intention of letting even Miriam 
 supersede her. The noon meal came. 
 
 Now was the girl s chance. While Anna was 
 superintending the cooking, she crept to her broth 
 er s side, and timidly felt his cheek. She shuddered 
 because his flesh was so hot. Reuben turned his 
 head on the pillow, and looked at her. He smiled. 
 "You will be glad," he said, " when I am a great 
 priest, and go with my course to Jerusalem twice a 
 year. You will say, I am the sister of Reuben, 
 
 47
 
 48 Adnah 
 
 the high priest, perhaps. Who knows what will 
 happen. Caiaphas must die presently. Who will 
 succeed him ? Perhaps his son. No matter, I can 
 wait. But I must become a great friend of the 
 procurator. Pilate can do what he wishes. He 
 can make me high priest, when I am old enough. 
 Will you not be proud, then ?" 
 
 "So proud," said Miriam with a delighted smile, 
 "that my feet will say to the earth, Earth, you are 
 not good enough for me, and then they will be 
 gin to tread upon air." 
 
 Reuben laughed. " What a girl you are! And I 
 will not need to lay up riches, since father, who 
 was once a priest, but has been made a nobleman, 
 has enough to influence even a Roman procurator. 
 Aristobulus was high priest at seventeen. But I 
 am in no hurry. I care not if fame marches slowly, 
 so it comes my way." 
 
 "While you march to meet it," said Miriam, 
 pleased extremely at this very unusual confiding of 
 hopes. And certainly Reuben would not have con 
 versed with her so freely, if he had not been ill. 
 
 "Sister, I pray you bring me yonder fifth book of 
 Moses, which you see upon the table. I must be 
 prepared for my fate." 
 
 " But will it not make you ill to read ? " 
 
 " 111! What know you of the effects of reading t
 
 The Seventh Hour 49 
 
 Reading is not like a malaria to catch one unawares. 
 Do me this favor." 
 
 Do him a favor ? Miriam sprang up breathless. 
 "Now, Miriam," said Reuben s warning voice, "do 
 not be careless. Walk slowly. There are many 
 things on the table, and the book must not be in 
 jured." 
 
 Miriam laughed as she ran across the room. "A 
 favor loses half its worth when it is done slowly," 
 she cried gaily. She seized the roll of parchment, 
 and in her haste, struck it against a little jar. "Oh! 
 oh!" she cried. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Reuben sharply. 
 
 "Oh, brother, I have spilled some ink on the 
 book! " 
 
 "Bring it here. I expected this! Why did I 
 ask you to do anything for me ? For it is always 
 thus. Yet I cautioned you, I said, Walk slowly. 
 You would not. You ever think your way the 
 best, and your girl s wisdom equal to a man s. Let 
 me see the place. The Lord thy God will raise 
 up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, from 
 thy brethren, like unto Me; unto Him ye shall 
 hearken. You have blotted it all over! A Prophet 
 like unto Moses. . . . It is yet to be fulfilled; a 
 leader; a ruler. He is yet to come. Isaiah, Jere 
 miah, Elijah, these were not as Moses. So you
 
 $o Adnah 
 
 weep ? I am not angry, but I am just. You did 
 wrong, and is a wrong to be passed lightly over ? 
 Leave me to my thoughts, girl, you make my fever 
 rise." 
 
 Miriam fled to the upper chamber, and threw 
 herself upon her bed, where she sobbed wildly. 
 But it was not long before she was again in the 
 room. Anna was at the coveted place of honor, 
 by Reuben s side. The youth had not tasted food. 
 Soon he was forced to lay down the manuscript. 
 "Mother, put it away, I pray," he said faintly. 
 "Miriam is so heedless, but you are sure!" 
 
 Anna beamed and Miriam caught her breath. 
 Later in the day Reuben asked to have his face and 
 hands bathed with the clear water from the foun 
 tain. "Let me! let me!" cried Miriam. 
 
 "You indeed!" exclaimed Anna, smiling, but re 
 lentless. " Am I not his mother ? " 
 
 " But I can bring the water," said the girl eagerly. 
 
 "No," said the calm, judicial voice of Reuben. 
 " You would doubtless spill it upon the floor." But 
 while Anna was gone with the leathern bottle, here 
 was another opportunity. Miriam slipped into the 
 seat beside the bed. "Oh, Reuben," she whis 
 pered, "I wish I could lie there in your place!" 
 
 "Yes," said Reuben gravely. "You ever wish to 
 assume another s duty. Why not heed your own ?
 
 The Seventh Hour 51 
 
 You have a place to fill, and if you do as well as 
 you can, the part you are given to act, Herod in 
 Tiberias, or Tiberius in Rome, could do no more. 
 You are a foolish girl to wish to take my place. 
 Such wishes, what do they accomplish ? Such 
 wishes are but words! It is when I ask you to act 
 for me that you fail." 
 
 When Anna came with the water, she found her 
 son alone. "Where is Miriam ?" 
 
 "Who can tell? "said Reuben fretfully. "She 
 passes from smiles to tears before half-a-dozen 
 thoughts can follow after their captain. She is 
 heedless and full of faults, but she cares not, so you 
 are blind to them. A word sends her to her bed to 
 weep, and a smile almost makes her dance for 
 joy!" 
 
 The next day a physician was called. A week 
 later he said, " It is useless; the boy will die. If all 
 is well, he may last two days. But there is no 
 power to save him longer. He was delicate from 
 hard study, and the sudden shock of falling into the 
 lake was more than he could endure." Joel, who 
 had never left the place since the physician was 
 called, attended him to the gate. Then he sat down 
 beside the fountain, and wept bitterly. His only 
 boy, the pride and hope of his life, and all about 
 him the flowers sent up fragrance towards the blue
 
 52 Adnah 
 
 sky, and the water of the fountain sparkled joy 
 ously. 
 
 "My master," said a voice near him; it was 
 Zuph. " May I speak ? For I have a thought." 
 
 The haggard father did not raise his head. 
 
 " Listen, my master. I have told you of the man 
 who turned water into wine. Now since He could 
 do so marvelous a thing, may He not be able to do 
 even more ? Why could He not turn sickness into 
 health, or sorrow into joy ? For you and I could no 
 more make water redden into wine, than we could 
 heal poor Reuben! " 
 
 The nobleman looked up. "Where is this 
 man ?" 
 
 "I know not. But this I know; four of His fol 
 lowers have come to Capernaum, where now they 
 live. They were formerly of Bethsaida. They are 
 a pair of brothers. You know of Zebedee ? Two 
 are his sons, James and John. They live in one 
 house. Then Andrew and Simon are in another. 
 They have become partners in the fishing business. 
 Andrew and Simon are not very well off, but Zeb 
 edee has hired servants. Perhaps it would not be 
 greatly below you to go thither. At least you need 
 not go into the house, but call them forth." 
 
 Joel had risen. "Show me the way," he said 
 briefly. Zebedee s house was not far from the
 
 The Seventh Hour 53 
 
 coast. As they came up, they found James in the 
 doorway, mending a net. John sat apart, his eyes 
 fixed dreamily upon the distance. Salome stood 
 beside James, her more practical son, making but 
 ter by shaking a bottle of goatskin filled with milk. 
 
 " Peace be with you," said Joel. "Are you not 
 followers of Jesus of Nazareth ?" 
 
 James looked up and smiled. " We were His 
 disciples. We went with Him up to Jerusalem, and 
 then, through Samaria. But now we have gone 
 back to our old business." 
 
 "If you were with Him in Cana, about ten 
 months ago, you saw Him turn the water into 
 wine." 
 
 "We saw that; and many marvels afterwards. 
 He is a great prophet, this Jesus. He is another 
 Elijah. Perhaps He is even more." 
 
 "What more could He be ? " said Joel. 
 
 John now spoke. " You know how it is written 
 in Malachi, Behold, I will send My messenger, and 
 he shall prepare My way before Me; and the Lord 
 whom ye seek shall suddenly come to His temple, 
 and He shall sit as a refiner of silver, and purify the 
 sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver. 
 Is this not spoken of the Christ, who is to become 
 our King, and raise the Jews to the highest among 
 nations? John the Baptist has himself said that he
 
 54 Adnah 
 
 was sent before this very Jesus to prepare the way 
 for Him; so there is the messenger spoken of in 
 the prophets. And Jesus is the Lord. One day I 
 was with John the Baptist, and looking upon Jesus 
 as he walked, He said, Behold the Lamb of God. 
 Whereupon we followed Him, Andrew and I. 
 
 "Yes, we saw the water turned into wine, and 
 we believed on Him. He came here to Capernaum, 
 after that, He and His mother and His brethren with 
 us, but we continued here not many days, because 
 the passover was at hand. And so we went up to 
 Jerusalem, and Jesus found in the Temple those who 
 sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers 
 of money sitting; and when He had made a scourge 
 of small cords, He drove them all out of the Temple, 
 and the sheep and the oxen; and poured out 
 the changers money; and overthrew the tables; 
 and said unto them that sold doves, Take these 
 things hence; make not My Father s house a house 
 of merchandise. Was not this the very event pre 
 dicted by Malachi ? We disciples recalled the 
 words written so long ago, The zeal of thine house 
 hath eaten Me up! 
 
 "Tell me, where is this worker of wonders!" 
 cried Joel. " You stir up hopes in my breast. For 
 my son is at the point of death, and perhaps Jesus 
 can make him well."
 
 The Seventh Hour 55 
 
 "Jesus is in Cana," said James, " the very place 
 where He attended the wedding feast; He stops 
 with Nathanael for a time, but we expect Him to 
 come presently to Capernaum." 
 
 "It is twenty-five miles away, perhaps a little 
 less," said Joel excitedly. "I can reach the town 
 by the seventh hour, for it is yet early." 
 
 "Master," said Zuph, "if you would talk longer 
 with these, I will saddle your beast and bring Him 
 hither in all speed." Joel approved the plan, and 
 Zuph hurried away. 
 
 "And you think this is the Christ whom the 
 Pharisees look for?" said Joel. "And you think 
 He will become a mighty king ? Ah, you do not 
 understand the power of Rome ! I am a noble 
 man, a Sadducee. Of course / look for no Christ. 
 But I do indeed believe this is a prophet; I believe 
 He can heal Reuben, if I can persuade Him to come 
 up hither in time." 
 
 " Have no fear," said John, " no one ever wishes 
 Jesus in vain. He turns from no one. When we 
 journeyed through Samaria, where was Jacob s 
 well, Jesus, being wearied with His journey, sat 
 on the well, while we went away into the city to 
 get meat. When we came back, we marveled to 
 see Him talking with a woman of Samaria, one 
 who was a sinner, and had five times been mar-
 
 56 Adnah 
 
 ried! Yet no one said, Why do you talk with 
 her?" 
 
 "At Jacob s well!" said Joel. "That is by 
 Sychar. Could this have been the mother of 
 Adnah ? But see how calm I am! I cannot under 
 stand why my grief is gone. But ever since I 
 determined to go to Jesus, my heart has sung like a 
 bird with hope of the spring! " 
 
 In the meantime Reuben was delirious. "Here 
 is my genealogy," he muttered, fancying he had 
 applied for a sub-position in the priesthood. " You 
 will find I am descended from a priest of Solomon. 
 Put not the black robe upon me, but the white 
 tunic, for I am free of the one-hundred-and-forty 
 bodily defects. I shall be at the head of the San- 
 hedrin, mother. I shall be high priest! Then 
 father will be glad. I shall serve in the first course. 
 Have ready the ox for a sin-offering. And the oil 
 for my hair. How long it takes to become 
 great! " 
 
 An hour later he opened his eyes. Consciousness 
 had returned, but not so his strength. "Mother," 
 he whispered, " I feel very strange. I seem to be 
 floating in the Sea of Galilee, as I did that night. 
 What is it ? Mother, what did the physician say ? 
 Shall I get well ? " 
 
 Anna burst into uncontrollable weeping. After
 
 The Seventh Hour 57 
 
 a pause he whispered, "And how long did he say 
 I might last ? Shall I die at once ? " 
 
 "No, no, no ; not he said two days." 
 
 "Poor mother!" said Reuben. Then he added, 
 " Where is father? " 
 
 " He has hurried to Cana, to find a greater Physi 
 cian, my son. Perhaps ours did not know." 
 
 There was a long pause, while Anna held her 
 boy s hand. Then a voice broke the stillness. 
 " Reuben, Reuben, have you no thought of me?" 
 
 " Hush, Miriam!" said Anna, gently. 
 
 "You and father are always upon his lips," said 
 Miriam in rebellious grief, "but me he never 
 mentions! " 
 
 " Miriam," said the weak voice, "come hither." 
 His sister crept to his side. "Miriam, we were 
 very happy when we were little ones, is it not 
 true ?" 
 
 "So happy! " sobbed Miriam. 
 
 "When we played with laughter in the court, 
 beside our fountain, ah, the cold, cold water, 
 how we plunged our arms into it! And we chased 
 each other upon the house-top, from parapet to 
 parapet. And the time Lucius, the centurion, sent 
 us that curious dish from his feast, made of pea 
 cocks brains, how we laughed! " 
 
 "1 had even forgotten! " said Miriam.
 
 58 Adnah 
 
 "Now, daughter," said Anna, "you have talked 
 enough. You will make Reuben worse." 
 
 "A moment more, dear mother. But, Miriam, 
 since we have grown older, we have not been 
 just " 
 
 " But it is always my fault," said Miriam, " for I 
 am a very wicked girl." 
 
 "There is one thing I must tell you, sister." 
 
 "I shall always remember it, I know." 
 
 "So I wish you to. It is this, and no doubt 
 you would never have thought it " 
 
 "For I arn not wise, Reuben. But tell me what 
 it is and I will do it. Anything, anything! " 
 
 "It is nothing I want you to do. It is just 
 that, I am very fond of you! " 
 
 Miriam gave a little cry that was broken half into 
 by a sob. Anna said, "You may kiss him, but 
 after that, you must draw away." Was Anna just 
 a little jealous ? Reuben kissed his sister, and then 
 as he looked up at his mother a faint smile passed 
 over his face; but he said nothing. Presently he 
 fell asleep, and his breathing grew so halting that 
 Anna was alarmed and sought to waken him. 
 
 Reuben could not be awakened. Some of the 
 oldest servants came in, among them, Zuph. Their 
 weeping was audible. Anna did not try to still 
 them. It no longer mattered. The hour of the
 
 The Seventh Hour 59 
 
 noon meal was at hand, but no one in the room 
 stirred. Anna sat with her eyes fastened fixedly 
 upon the white face, while Miriam sobbed with the 
 servants. Reuben was struggling for breath. He 
 was still unconscious. As a servant passed by the 
 stone dial in the court, her words were distinctly 
 heard, as they drifted through the open window; 
 " It is the seventh hour." 
 
 Even while she spoke, Reuben opened his eyes, 
 sighed naturally, and then rose to a sitting posture. 
 Anna who had constantly held his hand, gave a 
 loud cry of amazement. The pulse had become 
 regular, the hot fever was gone! "He recovers!" 
 she cried. 
 
 "I am already well! " said Reuben. He rose to 
 his feet, and they saw that he had spoken true. 
 
 Miriam cried, " Father has seen Jesus! "
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 IN DANGER 
 
 THAT evening they expected Joel to return from 
 Cana, but they were disappointed. Joy over the 
 recovery of Reuben needed only the father s pres 
 ence to be complete. Early the next morning Zuph 
 wished to start forth and meet him, and tell the 
 good news. Anna gave him permission, and he 
 set forth with a few of the servants. They had not 
 gone far when they met Joel returning. 
 
 "Your son lives," shouted Zuph. With bright 
 faces, the other servants echoed, "He lives!" Joel 
 also was radiant, but he did not appear surprised. 
 
 "At what hour did he begin to mend?" he in 
 quired. 
 
 "Yesterday at the seventh hour, the fever left 
 him." 
 
 "That was the time! " Joel exclaimed. "Now, 
 indeed, I know that Jesus is a great prophet, and a 
 mighty worker of wonders, as well! " 
 
 "Then you saw Him ?" said Zuph. 
 
 " I reached Cana about noon, dear Zuph. I went 
 
 unto Him, He abides with one Nathanael. I told 
 
 60
 
 In Danger 6l 
 
 Him that Reuben was at the point of death, and 
 I besought Him to come down to Capernaum and 
 heal him, for in some way, when I saw His face, 
 I could not doubt His power. I know you can 
 cure him, I said, for I have heard of the miracle 
 you wrought at the wedding feast. 
 
 " Then He answered, Except you see signs and 
 wonders, you will not believe! At that I began to 
 grow alarmed. I felt He could help Reuben, but 
 what if He refused to come ? I plead with Him 
 then, for was not my dearest interest at stake? 
 And I cried, Sir, come down ere my child die! 
 
 "But He had not intended to refuse my petition, 
 He was only trying me, I saw that by the won 
 derful look of kindness and mercy that shone in His 
 eyes. He said, Go your way; your son lives. 
 And the time at which He spoke these words was 
 the seventh hour. I believed Him. I was as certain 
 Reuben had recovered, as if I had seen him rise 
 before me, although he was more than twenty miles 
 away. I set forward towards home, but I felt no 
 hurry. I was too happy to be anxious about my 
 journey, and the meeting with Jesus had filled me 
 with strange thoughts and feelings. So I stayed at 
 night at the half-way inn, to think it over." 
 
 "And what do you think of Jesus?" asked 
 Zuph.
 
 62 Adnah 
 
 " As I said, a great prophet, one who can over 
 come the ordinary course of nature." 
 
 " And no more ? " said the servant. 
 
 "This is enough, surely. I believe in Him." 
 
 " But do you think Him the Messiah ? " 
 
 "Zuph, I am a Sadducee, as you know." 
 
 "True, master. But if Jesus could raise Reuben 
 from his deathbed, while twenty miles away, why 
 could not God raise up one who is quite dead, 
 though He is as far away as Heaven?" 
 
 "I perceive, Zuph, that you believe in the resur 
 rection." 
 
 "To my mind," replied the favored servant, "the 
 resurrection and Jesus go together. I think Him the 
 Christ. And I believe He will presently become 
 great and drive Rome out of Judea, and take His 
 royal seat in Jerusalem. Where, then, will Herod 
 Antipas and Pontius Pilate be ? Either in exile, or 
 crushed beneath the powerful foot of the great and 
 new king! " 
 
 Joel smiled at Zuph s enthusiasm. " I warn you," 
 he said, "not to express these views to Lucius, the 
 centurion." 
 
 Anna would not allow Reuben to return to 
 school for several days, although he had perfectly 
 recovered. When at last he was suffered to go, 
 Miriam felt very lonesome. She had spent many
 
 In Danger 63 
 
 happy hours in the sick room, for every time she 
 could be of service her heart bounded with joy. 
 And that time Reuben said, "I am very fond of 
 you! " would she ever forget it? Since his recov 
 ery, Reuben had appeared rather ashamed of his 
 confession, it is true, and he had done nothing to 
 prove it. But he had failed to find fault with his 
 sister, and was not this more than enough ? She 
 could still sit and watch him, in dumb devotion. 
 
 But now he was away, and she went into the 
 court. Suddenly she remembered the plank which 
 had caused her so much trouble. But she would 
 not look at it. There was no danger of her 
 betraying her father s trust. But after all, she 
 would like to see if Zuph had drawn out the nails. 
 There could be no harm in that. She crossed the 
 court to examine. Yes, there were the empty nail- 
 holes. And had she moved that great heavy 
 weight! Sure enough, here was the very spike she 
 had pulled upon, Miriam seized the spike. She 
 gave it just a little pull. 
 
 "Miriam?" said a voice on the other side; the 
 voice of Adnah. Miriam shrank back. "Miriam!" 
 the voice said, entreatingly. 
 
 Miriam wrung her hands. What could she do ? 
 She had promised not to talk to this wretch. But 
 to wound him was more than she could endure.
 
 64 Adnah 
 
 So she compromised. She knocked upon the 
 plank. 
 
 "Have they ordered you not to speak to me?" 
 said the boy. 
 
 Again Miriam knocked. 
 
 "Then listen, and you need say nothing. 
 Miriam, something dreadful is going to happen to 
 me. I overheard Iddo and his slave plotting. 1 
 dared not draw very close, and I did not hear every 
 thing. But I know this much; 1 am to be taken 
 from here and something is to be done to me. 
 After I have disappeared, Iddo will say I ran away. 
 But Miriam, it will not be true. For how could I 
 escape ? The gate is locked always, and you know 
 I could not scale the wall. I am in a cage. I sup 
 pose Iddo will murder me, he and the slave; 
 for Iddo hates me, oh, Miriam, he despises, 
 loathes me in his soul; and why, I know not. I 
 would have slipped through this opening, and 
 begged you to get the key to your gate, that I 
 might flee. But I heard your servant nail up the 
 plank again. So there is no help. And no one 
 would believe my story but you. Only this; when 
 they say I ran away, you will know better." 
 
 Miriam was in great perplexity. Should she 
 break her promise, and tell Adnah that the plank 
 was loose ? But how could she get the key to the
 
 In Danger 65 
 
 gate and let him out, even if the plank were gone ? 
 It must be at night, and Zuph slept with the key 
 under his pillow. She could not attempt that, she 
 was not so wicked. And yet, what if Adnah were 
 killed ? But surely a good Pharisee, such as Iddo, 
 would commit no crime. 
 
 " Miriam, do you believe my words?" 
 
 She knocked upon the wall. At that instant 
 Anna called her! Miriam went to her mother feel 
 ing guilty and miserable. How could she explain 
 her knocking upon the wall ? She stood with 
 downcast eyes. What, now, would her father 
 think ? And Reuben ? She trembled. 
 
 "Miriam," said her mother s cheery voice, "I 
 called to ask you to fill this jug, from the foun 
 tain." 
 
 " You dear, good mother! " cried Miriam, throw 
 ing her arms about her, "I would fill a thousand 
 jugs for you! "
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE TWO BROTHERS 
 
 ADNAH could not remember his mother, because 
 when he was only a year old, his father had given 
 that lady a bill of divorcement and had sent her 
 away. Back to Samaria, her native country, went 
 this lady, and presently married again; and yet 
 again; five times, in all. Whenever Iddo wished 
 to reproach Adnah most bitterly, he would refer 
 to his mother. Iddo seemed to take exquisite 
 delight in tormenting his nephew. This was be 
 cause he hated the very sight of the young man. 
 Adnah could remember his father, Samuel. They 
 had lived together six years after the divorce. 
 What a jolly person his father had been! full of 
 laughter and mad pranks, a very boy, though 
 whiskered over with tough gray hair. Despised by 
 his countrymen because he was a publican, and be 
 cause he had married a Samaritan, Samuel found 
 solace in his child. When he left the receipt of 
 custom, straight home to his little cabin he would 
 go, and "Ha, Adnah, what do you say to going 
 fishing, to-night?" Then they would take to the 
 
 66
 
 The Two Brothers 67 
 
 boat, and push off from shore. Darkness would 
 surround them. What of that ? Samuel would 
 light a torch and place it where the fish could see 
 its beautiful glory. For a fish dearly loves a light, 
 whether sun, or lantern. So the fish would set 
 their tails wagging, and come straight into the net. 
 And what then? Perhaps it would be midnight; 
 no matter. They would light a fire upon the shore, 
 and broil their fish upon the coals. And then, 
 pure happiness, without a thought of indiges 
 tion! 
 
 Or, Samuel might say, "Shall we take a tramp 
 to-night ? " Adnah was always ready for anything. 
 In the dusk of evening they would set forth, and 
 perhaps enter the hills and sit upon the huge 
 boulders, or even climb the mountainside; or make 
 an excursion to Bethsaida, and think it great fun 
 because all the town would be asleep and these 
 two so much awake. And Samuel would go to 
 work the next day as if he had slept all night. 
 Samuel was not religious, but there was one object 
 he worshiped; this was his brother Iddo. And in 
 deed, Iddo was so great a Pharisee, and so learned 
 a Rabbi, that most of the common people looked 
 up to him. And to think that this great and pious 
 man was his own brother! Samuel visited him 
 regularly, and lavished upon him a great part of his
 
 68 Adnah 
 
 wages, while Iddo never ceased to upbraid him for 
 being a sinner and a publican. 
 
 "Alas, that this money is made by the extortion 
 of your own countrymen!" Iddo would exclaim, 
 pocketing, meanwhile, the money. " How can 
 you be content to take from the Jews and give to 
 these vile Romans ? Were it not for the Pharisees, 
 the Jews as a people would cease to exist. Re 
 nounce the custom; become a Pharisee, and help us 
 oppose Tiberius Csesar. What grander work than 
 to fight for your people against greed, idolatry, and 
 oppression ?" 
 
 "Alas, dear Iddo," Samuel would return, waving 
 his powerful arm, "some men are not cut out to do 
 great things. You are; 1 am not. It is enough that 
 my brother is great, that the people bow before 
 him, that those from afar come to sip at his foun 
 tain of knowledge. Of you, I am very proud; 
 with myself, I am content." 
 
 "Think of the day of resurrection! " cried Iddo. 
 "While we Pharisees recline in Abraham s bosom, 
 where will be you publicans and Sadducees?" 
 
 But never did Samuel lose his serene indifference. 
 Iddo could not offend him. The day of desolation 
 came at last, the day that found Adnah a happy 
 child, and left him miserable. The Roman soldiers 
 were in the room, and by Adnah stood Samuel and
 
 The Two Brothers 69 
 
 Iddo. "It is true I stole the money," said Samuel, 
 boldly. "What would you have? So great a 
 stream of coins pouring through my fingers every 
 day, should not I close my hand some time ? " 
 
 "Come!" said the officer sternly. "No more 
 words. You confess the deed. To Jerusalem! " 
 
 "Iddo," said the prisoner, turning to his brother, 
 " remember; you take charge of my boy; you will 
 treat him as your own child; you will bring him up 
 to become great and good." 
 
 Iddo threw himself upon the publican s shoulder 
 and wept and sobbed. " He shall be my son! " he 
 declared. Never before had Adnah seen Iddo kiss 
 his brother. Iddo did not appear in the least 
 ashamed of his brother, though a thief. And 
 Adnah was taken to the home of Iddo. At first 
 Iddo seemed very fond of the boy, and would often 
 throw his arms about him, and burst into wild 
 weeping. But at the end of a few weeks, this 
 sudden love cooled. Then Iddo began to hate his 
 nephew. Why? Ah, why? What had happened? 
 
 There were three in this household; Iddo, his 
 wife Hodesh, a most irritable woman, and the 
 slave, a man with a cruel face, and with few 
 words. The house was scantily furnished, the 
 board frugally set forth, after the manner of Phari 
 sees. " Teach me to read," once Adnah implored.
 
 70 Adnah 
 
 "First I will teach you to be good," returned 
 Iddo. "You may begin by fasting, to-day." After 
 that Adnah fasted often, but he grew no better. In 
 fact, his mind became filled with bitter and rebel 
 lious thoughts. Often he did not confine himself to 
 thoughts, but ventured into open rebellion. Then 
 Hodesh would beat him severely. He longed in 
 the evening to sit with the others upon the house 
 top for very company s sake, but this was not al 
 lowed. He tried to make friends with the slave, 
 but to no avail. He sought to soften Iddo s wife, 
 but she was adamant. Thus cast upon himself, 
 ever brooding over a happy past and a desolate 
 present, Adnah grew up, and was now six 
 teen. 
 
 But life is unbearable without love. To be loved 
 is the priceless blessing of a few, and like other 
 priceless blessings, is held cheap, compared with 
 blessings that may be bought with a price. But to 
 love, is the privilege of all generous natures. To 
 whom should Adrian s heart go out ? At first, it 
 was a voice that stole its way into his soul, a 
 childish voice, laughing, singing, on the other side 
 of that cruel fence. Once he heard the same voice 
 in another tone, for now it was sobbing. What 
 had happened to that unseen one? Adnah s heart 
 thrilled with sympathy. "I grieve with you," he
 
 The Two Brothers 71 
 
 whispered, no one could hear. " Have you been 
 beaten ? I, also, am often beaten. But who could 
 injure you, dear, laughing, singing voice!" For 
 it was just a voice he had grown to love. 
 
 A week later some one called, "Miriam!" and 
 that clear voice answered, "Here I am, Reuben." 
 Then, her name was Miriam. Miriam! a musical 
 name, a name that almost melts in the mouth before 
 it can be spoken. Miriam, he liked that name. He 
 would have had her named nothing else. The next 
 day he heard her singing. "Miriam sings," he said 
 with a smile, as he listened. "She is happy." A 
 sudden thought, why should he slink to his room 
 every evening, while the others were upon the 
 house-top? Would not Miriam be upon her own 
 roof ? And in the dusk he crept out by the foun 
 tain. He scarcely dared look up. For here was 
 a strange thing; he feared her as much as he loved! 
 When at last he raised his eyes, there were Joel and 
 Anna and Reuben; and a girl sitting with her back 
 to him. And it was so dim up there. How dim 
 all the world had suddenly grown! At last he saw 
 the form of Miriam, of her whose voice and name 
 had become the hope of his life! At last, after all 
 these days, he saw her; but why did she not turn 
 around ? And why was the world growing so 
 dim ? Now she was turning her face. But at that
 
 72 Adnah 
 
 moment the world was blotted from his sight. 
 Foolish tears, to spoil so fair a picture! 
 
 But at last he saw her face, he talked with her. 
 It was that day when the plank fell down. He 
 dated all after events from that day, until the next 
 time came when he spoke through the boards, tell 
 ing her how his life was in danger. 
 
 "Boy," said Iddo that very evening, "you go 
 with me, to-night, upon a journey." 
 
 "Whither?" Adnah asked, drawing back. 
 
 "Do you ask me, Whither? What is that to 
 you ? It is enough that you go." 
 
 "I shall not go," returned Adnah. "You mean 
 to harm me, perhaps kill me." 
 
 Then Adnah was beaten by the slave. "Will 
 you go?" demanded Iddo. This time it was quite 
 dark. 
 
 "What will happen to me?" asked Adnah. 
 
 "Miserable child of a Samaritan and a thief!" 
 cried Iddo. "Do you think you can resist my 
 power?" 
 
 "Yes," said Adnah, "I can resist you. I will 
 not go. Now beat me again ! " 
 
 "Bring the mule to the gate," said Iddo to the 
 slave. The slave departed. "Wretched boy," 
 hissed Iddo, "who must ever be a blot upon the 
 world, what can you hope ? There is nothing for
 
 The Two Brothers 73 
 
 you. To touch you is to become defiled. You are 
 unclean, spotted with sin. Yet you defy me; you 
 ever defy me. I give you food and lodgings, you 
 return me harshness and impudence." 
 
 " Give me a little kindness," said Adnah, " and I 
 will run to do your bidding." 
 
 "Kindness! Is not food kindness? Is not 
 shelter kindness?" 
 
 " But what are blows and curses ?" said Adnah. 
 "You would crush me, make me a slave. But 
 while I live, there is one thing I can do. I can tell 
 you my thoughts. Ah, had my father known " 
 
 Iddo struck him to the earth. When Adnah re 
 covered, he found his limbs tied, and his mouth 
 stopped by a bandage so he could not cry out. 
 Iddo said, "True, you can speak your thoughts; 
 but he who speaks his thoughts indulges in a luxury 
 for which he must pay a price! " 
 
 "The beast is ready," the slave called from the 
 open gate in a low voice. " Come, tie this fellow 
 upon his back," said Iddo; "and leave the gate 
 wide open. Then we will say, He ran away. " ! 
 Adnah was lifted in strong arms, and tied upon the 
 mule. They set forward through the dark night. 
 He was prepared for the worst, and his determina 
 tion was to die bravely. 
 
 They entered the hill country and at last came to
 
 74 Adnah 
 
 wild ravines, where rocks in fantastic shapes 
 loomed up in the darkness. Presently Iddo said, 
 "We are here." The mule stopped. Adnah was 
 dragged from the beast, and the ropes taken from 
 him. The bandage was removed from his mouth. 
 But Iddo grasped his arm in an iron clutch. " Now 
 shriek," said Iddo. "Now howl! Now implore 
 and beg and pray! Be not afraid. No one will 
 hear you but the slave and your uncle. Ask for 
 your life ; plead for your freedom ! " 
 
 Adnah said not a word. Iddo was in a curious 
 kind of frenzy, as if he were going mad. His eyes 
 blazed with fury. " You dog, you Samaritan, you 
 thief! Are you dumb? Speak before I strike you 
 to the earth! " He spoke not, and a blow on the 
 head sent him reeling down. "Speak! Ask my 
 forgiveness, my mercy. So ? Then a last blow, 
 for this is the last chance I will have with you! " 
 And he struck the prostrate form. "Now, slave, 
 we are ready. Drag him in." 
 
 Adnah, half stunned, and suffering cruelly, as 
 much from indignant rage as from physical pain, 
 was clutched by the arm and dragged over the 
 sharp stones. The rope coiled itself about his leg 
 and trailed after him. They had come to a perpen 
 dicular cliff that rose many feet above the gorge. 
 But there was a small opening in the rock, over
 
 The Two Brothers 75 
 
 which a mass of earth and stones projected. It was 
 the opening of a cave, so low that the slave was 
 obliged to go upon hands and knees, as he dragged 
 the youth after him. At last Adnah was left alone 
 in intense darkness. 
 
 What were Iddo and the slave doing, outside the 
 cave ? A sudden terrific crash was heard. An 
 enormous mass of earth and stones had been dis 
 lodged, falling to the ground, and stopping up the 
 mouth of the cave. Suddenly from a not remote 
 part of the cave sounded the voice of one who had 
 been awakened by the thunder of the avalanche: 
 "Unclean! unclean! unclean!" 
 
 Adnah gave a wild shriek of terror. He was en 
 tombed with Simon, the leper.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ENTOMBED IN THE CAVE 
 
 AFTER that agonized shriek, caused by the reali 
 zation that a leper was with him in the cave whose 
 mouth was effectually stopped up, Adnah started to 
 his feet. But he sank upon the ground, overcome 
 by the pain from his wounds, and from his fear. 
 
 Again that terrible cry arose from the interior 
 darkness, "Unclean, unclean, unclean!" The ter 
 ror which had before deprived the youth of strength, 
 now gave him energy. He tottered to his feet, cry 
 ing, " Keep away, I command you! " 
 
 From the intense gloom came the leper s voice: 
 " Who is this that would share the miseries of my 
 home ? Why have you come to the abode of an 
 outcast ? Do you not know that Simon the leper 
 lives here ? / am Simon the leper! Depart, depart, 
 I warn you, unless you, too, are a leper." 
 
 "Oh, infamous Iddo," cried Adnah, "then this is 
 why you brought me here! This is why you 
 loosed my feet and hands. But woe to you, oh, 
 
 Iddo, if we should ever meet again! " 
 
 76
 
 Entombed in the Cave 77 
 
 " Iddo? " repeated the leper. " I know him. If 
 you hate him, you are my friend. Wait, 1 will 
 light my lamp." After some delay, the lamp was 
 lighted, and by its feeble light, Adnah could gain 
 some idea of the cave. It consisted of a large 
 cavern, almost square in shape, the ceiling dome- 
 shaped, and many feet above his head; but of its 
 height he could not be sure, since it sloped up into 
 darkness; and when he looked up, it was as if he 
 gazed into the depths of a fathomless sky, unlighted 
 by stars. The walls were rough stone, and at one 
 corner of the cavern was a black space, as of an 
 open doorway, not higher than his head, and 
 scarcely two feet wide. At first he had thought it 
 a piece of black cloth hung upon the wall. 
 
 In the opposite corner was a mattress, laid upon 
 a heap of straw, some earthen vessels and others of 
 iron, while a gray circle showed where a fire some 
 times burned. A heap of wood and brush was 
 piled against the wall, near which lay an ax, and 
 other implements. The lamp stood upon the earth- 
 ern floor. It consisted of a wick thrust into the 
 neck of a bottle containing oil. As the pale flame 
 played, monstrous shadows danced upon the floor 
 and wall, or fled, as in a magic race, to the black 
 ness of the roof. Adnah hardly knew that his eyes 
 had seen all these things, for his mind was op-
 
 78 Adnah 
 
 pressed with but one of the objects in the cave, 
 the leper. 
 
 Simon the leper sat upon the ground beside his 
 lamp, staring at Adnah. His leprosy was not in its 
 initial stage, but had already reached a frightful de 
 velopment, so that he might be said to be " full of 
 leprosy," the phrase then in use. Had he been 
 wandering abroad, he would have been obliged to 
 conceal his mouth and the lower part of his face 
 with a bandage. But now he was at home, and his 
 hideous deformity was unconcealed. His skin lay 
 in shining white scales, which in places were falling 
 off, revealing disgusting sores. One foot was 
 eaten away, up to the ankle-bone; an eye had dis 
 appeared, for the disease had first begun by a small 
 white spot upon his eyelid. Upon one side of his 
 head, the hair grew raven black, but the other half 
 had been invaded by the disease, and here the hair 
 was perfectly white; the contrast was terrifying. 
 Adnah, almost as white from terror as was Simon 
 from his leprosy, shrank to the farthest wall. 
 However, the leper gave but one look at the youth. 
 
 " What has happened ? " he cried, pointing to the 
 opening of the cave. The avalanche had not only 
 stopped up the mouth, but had rolled a vast amount 
 of earth and stones into the cavern, so that the true 
 opening could not be approached.
 
 Entombed in the Cave 79 
 
 " It was Iddo," said Adnah. " He has buried me 
 alive in this place, and with you!" The leper 
 was more terrifying to him than the thought of 
 starvation. 
 
 "Woe, woe!" moaned Simon. "Entombed 
 alive! This, then, is the end! " 
 
 Adnah could not take his eyes from his compan 
 ion in misery. The frightfulness of his aspect fas 
 cinated him. He stared until his eyes began to 
 glitter, and his breast heaved convulsively. He 
 hated the leper with a mad passion. Why must he 
 share this tomb with such a being ? Life indeed 
 could not last long, for starvation must end all. 
 But there would be days, and all that while his eyes 
 would see that emaciated face, the limbs scaled and 
 eaten with sores, the bones dropping away. Per 
 haps madness would seize him before starvation. 
 His mind burned with terrible thoughts. He 
 glanced at the ax. A sudden power sprang along 
 his veins. A sudden heat boiled in his blood. His 
 hands clenched with the rigidity of steel, and his 
 young face became terrible. And then, suddenly 
 and unexpectedly, as all dreams come, he seemed 
 to hear a girlish voice singing, singing as if nature 
 had chosen her to express its sunniest mood, 
 singing of fountain-play, of birds circling in the 
 blue heavens, and of the scent of wild flowers
 
 80 Adnah 
 
 which only God s hand has trained to blossom. 
 And Adnah sank upon the ground and burst into 
 loud sobs. Thus Adnah was saved from the crime 
 of murder by the remembrance of Miriam. Blessed 
 is that life, the memory of which, coming to one 
 inflamed by passion, is as a divine voice speaking 
 to the tempest raging on Galilee. 
 
 " Yes, it is hard for you, poor young man," said 
 the leper, " and it is wicked in me to think only of 
 my own fate. For you, so young and full of hopes 
 have a right to bright dreams. But what have I to 
 expect ? If I were outside, free, even rich, instead 
 of the beggar that I am, what could I hope for ? 
 Pain, and ever more pain! But thus do the most 
 abject cling to life! My poor boy, these tears are 
 for you, and not for myself." 
 
 Adnah sobbed louder with self-reproach. 
 
 "Perhaps I can say more to comfort you," 
 Simon added presently. " Doubtless you think my 
 disease contagious. It is a foolish notion with 
 those who are unlearned. It is not true. Was not 
 Naaman, the leader of the armies of Syria, a leper ? 
 Think you the soldiers would have fought under 
 him, and encamped with and about him, if he 
 could have imparted his misery ? And do not the 
 priests go to the ones suspected of leprosy, and 
 touch them ? Yet the priests are clean. Gehazi
 
 Entombed in the Cave 8l 
 
 was a leper, yet the king conversed with him. And 
 in their own partitioned room, may not lepers at 
 tend the synagogue ? You must know that. There 
 is a leprosy, so I have heard, that is contagious; 
 but not the flaky disease of the Jews." 
 
 " Your words fill me with comfort and despair," 
 cried Adnah. " For I feared you. And more than 
 that, I had wicked thoughts about you. Forgive 
 me, Simon. How small a thing it is for me to wit 
 ness your suffering, compared to what you suffer 
 in your endurance! " 
 
 " Dear friend, your words are like cool water to a 
 parched tongue. For what is sweeter to an outcast, 
 hated by all, and by all avoided, than to hear the 
 word, Forgive! Think no more of your wicked 
 thoughts. Remember that lepers are avoided just 
 in the same way that the dead are shunned. If a 
 Jew touch a dead body, he is unclean; and if he 
 speak to a leper he is unclean; it is all one. Not 
 long ago I ventured into Capernaum, for I was 
 starving. I cried for bread. Iddo saw me, and 
 laid thirty-nine lashes upon my back, ah, cruel! 
 Yes, that is the law. He loves the law, for he is a 
 Pharisee. But he was not afraid to touch me, nay, 
 to hold me, to tie me to the post! " 
 
 "If this is true," cried Adnah, "then he thinks 
 not only to starve me to death, but to drive me
 
 82 Adnah 
 
 wild by your presence. But I will not fear you, I 
 will not injure you." 
 
 " You are brave. But speak no more of Iddo. 
 When one is close to death, he has no time to re 
 member injuries." 
 
 "Simon, whither leads yonder dark and narrow 
 opening behind you ? " 
 
 I will show you." The leper arose, and holding 
 the lamp, advanced upon a crutch. Adnah, no 
 longer fearing, or hating him, followed through the 
 natural doorway. For a time they passed along a 
 narrow hallway in the rock and then they 
 entered a strange place. Just at their feet yawned 
 a chasm, seemingly bottomless, and in width about 
 twelve feet. It extended the width of the apart 
 ment. Beyond this crevice, with its smooth black 
 walls, the floor rose with startling abruptness, at an 
 angle of more than forty-five degrees. It was 
 perforated with curious holes, some very small, 
 others, yards in diameter. This steep floor rose 
 as far as the feeble light of the lamp could il 
 lumine. 
 
 "Now I will show you something strange," said 
 Simon, and he hobbled with his lamp, back into the 
 hallway. " Now look up! " he called. 
 
 "I see a light," cried Adnah. "It is far, far 
 above, like twilight upon the peak of a mountain."
 
 Entombed in the Cave 83 
 
 Simon returned. " Yes," he said, " up there is the 
 light of day." 
 
 " But to reach that place ? " faltered the youth. 
 
 "Ah!" said Simon. He shook his head. 
 " Hitherto I have had no wish to explore. And 
 now I cannot. For this abyss at our feet cannot be 
 crossed. And if it could, who could go up that 
 smooth, steep wall, so many, many feet ? Not 
 you, poor youth, for see! There is blood upon 
 your head where you have been beaten, and in you 
 is no strength." 
 
 "No matter!" cried Adnah. "Let us return to 
 your home, and there let us plan. Already hope 
 shines through the darkness of my despair, like a 
 lamp seen in a window when one is on the wild 
 plains with one s father, alas! " 
 
 " Is then your father no more ? " 
 
 " He is no more," replied Adnah vaguely. "And," 
 he added grimly, "my mother is no more, 
 also! I have had no one to love me but Iddo. 
 And my great object in escaping is to reward 
 him! " 
 
 When they were in the first cavern, Adnah 
 asked, " Have you any food, or drink ? " 
 
 "Yes, thanks to that trip to the city that got me 
 a beating. For some took pity upon me, and as I 
 left, bleeding and hobbling, they came and laid
 
 84 Adnah 
 
 things along the road, then ran back that I might 
 not pollute them. I made several trips and brought 
 it all here. There is meal in yonder bag to last 
 many days; and in those bottles, wine; and in that 
 great jar, water. That is all. Would you eat?" 
 
 "No, no! For who can tell how long we must 
 remain here ! Let us save the food as we may. 
 Perhaps some one will see the mouth of the cave 
 covered over, and rescue you." 
 
 "Not they; they will think I have deserted this 
 place, and have closed it up, to keep others from 
 being polluted. If, indeed, they come hither, for 
 all dread and avoid the place." 
 
 "Consider, now," said Adnah. "There is an 
 abyss to be crossed, about twelve feet wide, and 
 as deep as the world. How can we bridge it ? 
 Here are short sticks; here is brush, even small 
 branches of trees. And yonder is the rope with 
 which I was bound; it caught about my leg, and 
 was dragged with me. It was wrapped all about 
 me, and then about the mule. It is longer than the 
 abyss is wide. Do you see no hope here ?" 
 
 " Hope not, boy; for can you walk upon a rope, 
 whose ends are fastened to nothing ? Hope not; 
 for greater will be your misery! " 
 
 Adnah answered fiercely, " I must hope, or die! " 
 Then he added thoughtfully, "Could not the sticks
 
 Entombed in the Cave 85 
 
 be tied together in such a way as to form one long 
 pole, strong enough to hold up your weight?" 
 
 " But I could never cross on it," said the leper. 
 " You see how helpless I am." 
 
 "Well, / can cross, and, if I succeed in getting 
 out, return for you." 
 
 Simon did not answer, but he sighed to see 
 Adrian clinging to this hope. 
 
 "But I am very weary," said the young man pres 
 ently, after he had sat trying in vain to think. " Let us 
 sleep, for it grows late. And even outside, in the 
 world, it is night. When I wake in the morning, I 
 shall be strong and well. Then you shall see what 
 1 will do. Fear not, Simon! If the food holds out, 
 no, that is impossible. I was thinking of bur 
 rowing through that accumulation in front of the 
 cave. But one can t dig through a mountain with 
 his fingers, even if his hope is bigger than the 
 mountain. Well, let us sleep."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ONE WAY OF ESCAPE 
 
 WHEN Adnah awoke, a bright fire burned upon the 
 ground. The wild and terrible form of the leper 
 hovered over it, while goblin-shaped shadows that 
 seemed akin to him, fled from the circle of fire, then 
 danced back again as the flame sank. It was as if 
 an evil dream had pictured itself upon the black 
 sheet of darkness. But this picture did not fade 
 away. Adnah started up. 
 
 "Outside, it is morning," said Simon, "for I 
 awoke. And I am baking us a cake apiece." 
 
 " Use not the stouter and longer sticks," said the 
 other. 
 
 "Wherefore not? What would you, with 
 them ? " 
 
 "To make that long pole that may bridge the 
 abyss," said Adnah rising. 
 
 " Alas! " said Simon, but he added no more. He 
 had no hope of ever escaping. Adnah stared to 
 wards the mouth of the cave, where tons of rubbish 
 blotted out the morning light. "Is there anything 
 
 to dig with ?" he asked. 
 
 86
 
 One Way of Escape 87 
 
 Simon answered patiently, "There is the ax. 
 That is all. Think of it no more. Here is a cake. 
 You are already unclean, since you have spoken 
 to me, so it will be no worse for you to eat with 
 me. And there is no water for your purifica 
 tion." 
 
 Adnah laughed scornfully. "What is it to me, 
 if I be clean or polluted ? What am I that I should 
 cleanse myself after converse with a leper. I am no 
 Pharisee, I am nothing! In the world, there is 
 nothing for me. In thoughts alone, there are a few 
 sunbeams. Some fancies come, they are very 
 fair. But of realities, there is only one thing, 
 this; to escape from the cave, and find Iddo, and 
 thank him for his love! After that, nothing! " 
 
 "Say not so," cried Simon, as they ate together. 
 "The words that fall from your lips, belong to me. 
 There is indeed no hope for me. But you, my 
 friend, why! you are young, and so full of life. 
 Alas! for there is no escape. . . . But if you 
 should escape, why were not all hope before you ? 
 Who are you ? What great crime have you 
 done ?" 
 
 " My name is Adnah. I have done no crime." 
 
 "Then do you despair as an amusement ? For 
 there are only two things that can make a true man 
 miserable; sin and ill-health."
 
 88 Adnah 
 
 "Or parents," said Adnah bitterly. "You for 
 get that the deeds of the parents are inherited 
 by the children, if they are evil deeds. If 
 good deeds, the world steps in and claims a 
 legacy." 
 
 Simon looked curiously at the young man and 
 did not pursue the subject. After the meal, Adnah 
 began his work of forming a long pole out of the 
 short sticks. He would put the end of one against 
 the middle of another, then wrap his rope about 
 each as tightly as he could draw the knot. He sat 
 upon the ground with his back to the flickering fire. 
 Simon had withdrawn to his mattress upon the 
 straw. Presently he spoke. 
 
 " 1 see you have been very unhappy, Adnah. As 
 for me, my share of happiness has been as great as 
 my misery. In Bethany is my home. There lives 
 a young man, well, he is about thirty, now, and 
 his two sisters. These three are my children. 
 Would you make me happy, Adnah ? " 
 
 " Surely, if I could!" 
 
 " Then let me tell you of them. For to speak of 
 one s children is to be young again." 
 
 "I listen gladly, Simon." 
 
 " Their mother died when the younger girl was 
 but two. So I reared them up till the boy was 
 nearing twenty. So gentle he was, so kind, so
 
 One Way of Escape 89 
 
 meek, never was there another such born into the 
 world! Adnah, he would not avenge an insult! 
 Sometimes when he was spitefully used, for you 
 know it is the good who are treated so, and if you 
 have ever an easy time, be sure you are a sinner! 
 then I would say to him, Lazarus, remember. An 
 eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! 
 
 "Ah, yes!" cried Adnah. " What is that ? Say 
 that again. Is that written in the law ? " 
 
 "To be sure. Know you not the law ?" 
 
 " I know only about children being visited by the 
 sins of their ancestors. But this new one is prime! 
 An eye for an eye, yes, I shall remember that! I 
 will remind Iddo of it when we meet! " 
 
 "As 1 said," resumed Simon, "when I quoted 
 this precept to Lazarus, that is my son s name, 
 he would say, Father, I would you could have 
 heard him say, Father! You would have thought 
 the southern breeze had found a voice! That law 
 is not for me, he would say." 
 
 " Was he, then, timid ? " asked Adnah. 
 
 "No, but so kind, he could not hate one who 
 injured him! Even so were his sisters, Martha and 
 Mary. Martha took the management of the house 
 hold, as soon as she was large enough. We were 
 not rich, we had no servants, except contentment 
 and love; they waited upon us."
 
 90 Adnah 
 
 Adnah looked up from his work. " I should 
 have been very badly served," he said, "if they 
 alone had attended my wants." 
 
 "Because you had not love," remarked Simon. 
 "First get love, and you will not have to hire con 
 tentment. Well, and Lazarus, when he was about 
 twenty, began to fancy that he wanted very much 
 something which I had not been able to get him, 
 that is, a wife. She was a lovely maiden, and as 
 gentle as a doe, and he had not the courage to tell 
 her of his love. But I said to myself, Let us wait. 
 It is waiting that gives courage. And when he 
 speaks, there is no maiden s parents in Judea who 
 can refuse his suit! 
 
 "It was about that time, Adnah. one morning, 
 I remember the sun shone very brightly and as it 
 looked through my window, it formed a broad 
 sheet of light that stretched like a bridge from 
 window to wall, while in the light played a million 
 tiny creatures that had been born with the warmth 
 and color. That morning, Adnah, I felt a strange 
 sensation on my eyelid. I examined the place, and 
 saw a small, round, white spot. And after eating 
 breakfast with my little fold, 1 told them I must go 
 upon a journey. And I kissed them all, they 
 wondered at my tenderness, no doubt! And I set 
 forth upon my journey. I went to the wilderness
 
 One Way of Escape 91 
 
 of Judea, there to wait and see what would happen. 
 What happened, you see." 
 
 Adnah shuddered. 
 
 " So I sent them a letter, and, not telling any one 
 whither I was bound, I traveled through Samaria, 
 and came to Galilee, a country which the Judeans 
 hold in light esteem. They know not whither I am 
 gone, I hope they think me dead." 
 
 "And since then, you have not seen them ?" 
 
 "Yes, Adnah, once, more than a year ago. I 
 had both feet then, and could travel without so 
 much pain. I journeyed by night, when Jews stay 
 at home. Little by little I crept over hills and plains, 
 towards Judea. Sometimes I met bands of robbers. 
 But when I cried, Unclean! they would vanish as 
 mists before the sun. When one is a leper, he 
 fears no one but himself." 
 
 "And Iddo," added Adnah, thoughtfully. 
 
 "I waited a long, long day, in sight of beloved 
 Bethany," continued Simon. " When it grew dark, 
 I crept towards my old home. I stole forward in 
 dark shadows, and the night was dark. The dogs 
 fled from me; no man was abroad. There was a 
 light in the room. And Adnah, there, where I 
 could plainly see them through the wide window, 
 sat there were 
 
 "Were all three there ? " asked Adnah.
 
 92 Adnah 
 
 "I looked for a fourth," resumed Simon, pres 
 ently. "I sought her whom I had left a maiden, 
 the one Lazarus loved. She was not with them. 
 They were talking about a new prophet who had 
 just arisen, and who. clad in camel s hair, girded 
 about by a girdle of leather, was preaching repent 
 ance and baptism, and the coming of the Christ. 
 Lazarus had just been baptized by this prophet in 
 the river Jordan. The prophet s name was John; 
 he was called the Baptist. Strange were the words 
 spoken by this Baptist, which my children repeated. 
 Listen to this, The law was given by Moses, but 
 Jesus Christ will give grace and truth. John said 
 that! 
 
 "Then, as I stood there drinking in the tones of 
 their voices as a wanderer in the desert delights in 
 a new-found spring, the subject changed. And 
 Mary said to her brother, Have you never yet 
 regretted ? Lazarus answered, Sister, my place 
 is here. Then Mary said, I know not how much 
 it will grieve you, but soon you must know. My 
 brother, she is in Tiberias; and she is married. 
 There was a brief silence. Then Lazarus said, It 
 is well. Peace be with her. But we three, who 
 have been brought close together by a sorrow so 
 strange and so sad, it is for us to live together, 
 and in each other find comfort. Mary kissed him
 
 One Way of Escape 93 
 
 and said, Till death parts us. But now tell once 
 more that wonderful story of the baptism of Jesus, 
 and how a voice spoke from the sky. And Martha 
 said, But first, I will close the window, for the air 
 grows misty with dew. Martha was always so 
 thoughtful, little did she know she was shutting 
 out a father s tender gaze! And I heard and saw 
 them no more." 
 
 " Then they did not speak of you ? " 
 
 "1 did not hear my name called. But did not 
 every tone speak of me ? Do not their lives speak 
 of me? Ah, Adnah, think not I am forgotten! " 
 
 Adnah rose. "Now my bridge is ready!" he 
 announced. "First I shall test it." He leaned it 
 on edge against the wall, and standing under, seized 
 the improvised pole, and threw his weight upon it. 
 At first it shook, then began to bend down like a 
 bow. Then there was a crackling of the wood; 
 one stick broke in two; at another place the rope 
 slipped and unwound. The "bridge "gave way, 
 and Adnah fell to the floor. He rose greatly disap 
 pointed. But he said, "There is one comfort how 
 ever; I am not at the bottom of that abyss! No, it 
 cannot be crossed in this fashion. But it may be, 
 may I light the lamp and explore, Simon ?" 
 
 "As you wish," said the leper, remaining mo 
 tionless. " But be sure not to slip over the edge! "
 
 94 Adnah 
 
 The very thought caused Adnah a shiver. But he 
 lit the lamp, and passing through the hallway, 
 again stood on the verge of the crevice. He held 
 up the lamp, hoping to find a jutting rock upon the 
 opposite side, over which he could throw a slip 
 knot. He was disappointed. The surface of the 
 floor was perfectly smooth, till it began that strange 
 slant upwards towards the opening that admitted 
 the daylight. But the chasm must be crossed. In 
 its depths was death; but, on this side was death, 
 also. On the opposite side was at least a faint 
 hope. How to cross this space of twelve feet ? 
 There was only one way, no use to revolt from 
 the thought, or seek to deceive oneself; it must be 
 leaped over. And it must be a running leap. The 
 thing could be done, he could jump farther than 
 that. The main point was, in running up to make 
 the jump, to stop on this side of the chasm; a very 
 important point, indeed! and one not easy. But, 
 if he failed, if he slipped, if he did not get a 
 sufficient impetus, well, not to jump meant 
 death, as well. 
 
 Adnah returned to the living-chamber. He 
 measured a line upon the floor with the end of a 
 blackened stick, and set the lamp where it would 
 discover this line. Then he drew back, took a fair start, 
 stopped just before reaching the line, and jumped.
 
 One Way of Escape 95 
 
 " What is that for ? " inquired Simon. 
 
 "1 am practicing," said Adnah. "How far do 
 you think 1 jumped, then ?" 
 
 "Seven or eight feet," replied Simon, measuring 
 the distance with a critical eye. 
 
 " Watch again," said Adnah.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 MIRIAM S BIRTHDAY-GIFT 
 
 IT was several days since Miriam had seen Adnah 
 in the adjacent court, when Reuben came home from 
 school with a triumphant smile, holding aloft a 
 parchment. " At last! " he cried. 
 
 Miriam s heart sank, and tears rushed to her eyes. 
 " Reuben, it is not a dismissal ?" 
 
 "Yes, Miriam, the Rabbi says in this that lam 
 now qualified to go up to Jerusalem and begin my 
 novitiate in the Temple." 
 
 "Oh, my brother! " and Miriam sank upon the 
 bench beside the fountain and wept. 
 
 "Well! " exclaimed Reuben, stopping to stare at 
 her. " Well! And I thought to make you glad and 
 proud! Only think! I said to myself, I will tell the 
 news first to Miriam. What follows? Tears! 
 Gaspings! I shall never understand you, Miriam. 
 God wills otherwise." 
 
 "It is not that I fail to be proud, Reuben. Ah, I 
 am proud enough. But can pride make one happy ? 
 Perhaps pride and tears belong together. For your 
 
 sake I am glad; but for my own sake I weep. For 
 
 96
 
 Miriam s Birthday-Gift 97 
 
 you will be gone from us for years, and when we 
 live together once more, I shall be a child no longer." 
 
 "Truly," said Reuben, not regretfully. "But 
 you will be something much better, a woman; 
 and discreet. Besides, you will see me three times 
 every year when you come up to the feasts. And 
 perhaps I shall sometimes visit home, who 
 knows ?" 
 
 " But to see you every day, and watch your life 
 as it is lived beside my own, this is what I long 
 for. Other people will enter your life, and their 
 words will dwell in your mind, their faces linger in 
 your memory, people all unknown to me, but I 
 shall hate them all, for they have come between us, 
 and stolen my brother from me! " 
 
 " These are wicked words," said Reuben, "that 
 you will hate my friends! How say you thus ?" 
 
 " Because I am a foolish girl, Reuben. And first 
 you came and told me your good news ? See how 
 1 have turned your joy to sorrow ! I wish it were to 
 be done over again. Then I would give you smile 
 for smile. And I would say, It is my brother who 
 is about to become great! But I was so unpre 
 pared, and greatness is so sad a thing, since it lifts 
 one from the level where we common people walk 
 and love and die. Now, Reuben, I pray you go 
 back, and come to me again, and say, Here is my
 
 98 Adnah 
 
 leave to enter the Temple-service. For five years I 
 am to leave you. Then see how bravely I shall 
 act, and what I shall say! " 
 
 Reuben frowned and then smiled in spite of him 
 self. "You strange, inconsistent girl!" he cried. 
 "What! Are we to act a play like the Romans and 
 Greeks ? Is this a theatre ? Is life a play ? " 
 
 "You smile!" cried Miriam; "that is the door 
 through which a request is granted. Come, Reu 
 ben, let us be children for this once. Remember 
 that from this day, your childhood is past. Grant 
 my request. I would have you remember how glad 
 I was to hear of your success." 
 
 Reuben hesitated. Then he remembered that he 
 had ever been too averse to humoring this child. 
 With an expression half ashamed he left the court, 
 then entered waving his parchment and crying, 
 "Here is my leave to enter the Temple-service, 
 Miriam. For five years, dear sister, I am to leave 
 you! " And Reuben entered so thoroughly into his 
 part that his eyes sparkled and his breast heaved 
 with exultation. 
 
 "Oh, Reuben! "cried Miriam, "lam very gla 
 Then suddenly her voice failed her, and she cried 
 harder than before. 
 
 "What is that?" cried Anna, who had over 
 heard the loud announcement. " You have passed ?
 
 Miriam s Birthday-Gift 99 
 
 And you have not first come to your mother to tell 
 the proud news ?" 
 
 " I did first tell Miriam," said Reuben, looking at 
 his sister with extreme dissatisfaction. " But she 
 takes it so very ill, I think she would rather I had 
 failed!" 
 
 "Heed her not, Reuben, she is but a girl, and 
 foolish. It is a mother s heart that reflects back, as 
 from a mirror, the happiness of her child." 
 
 That night when Joel heard the news he said, 
 " We will all go up to Jerusalem, and see you safely 
 placed, my lad. A vacation of several weeks will 
 do us all good, and Miriam would no doubt like to 
 see the city." Miriam looked at her father in speech 
 less gratitude. 
 
 A few evenings later, Joel had scarcely taken his 
 seat upon the house-top with his family, when 
 Zuph announced a visitor. " Bring him up," said 
 the master. It was Iddo, who never before had 
 polluted himself by entering the house of this Sad- 
 ducee. 
 
 " It is my neighbor! " cried Joel heartily. "Peace 
 be with you! I pray you, seat yourself." 
 
 "Not so," said Iddo. "I come not in friendly 
 concourse, but upon an affair of business. You 
 know I am a Pharisee, and hold to the traditions." 
 
 "Yes, truly, but I aver, O Iddo, that yonder
 
 loo Adnah 
 
 corner hath not been sat upon by any one since last 
 the roof was washed; so sit you down; it is not 
 polluted." 
 
 Iddo waved his arm. " I am weary, Joel, but I 
 sit not down with you. And well may I be weary. 
 I did pray three hours this morning in the market 
 place, and as long this afternoon, standing all the 
 while, till husky grew my throat. And I must re 
 pair to my house-top and pray three hours more, 
 before night comes. I have not taken a bite to-day. 
 I fasted yesterday. Twice was I touched in the 
 street, once by a Gentile, once by a common per 
 son, so twice have I baptized myself. I went to 
 the synagogue and had my slave sound my trumpet 
 and then I gave alms to the miserable beggars. I 
 attended a council of Rabbis, where I argued with 
 much heat, yes, I am very weary." 
 
 "I should think so!" cried Joel. "It makes me 
 weary even to hear of it. And I suppose at this 
 same council you plotted against Pilate and King 
 Herod and all Rome, and how you could raise 
 the Jews to the power they enjoyed under 
 David?" 
 
 "Seek not to learn our secrets," said Iddo se 
 verely. 
 
 " Not I. But, see, Iddo, there is a man who some 
 think is the Christ, at Cana. Why not plot with
 
 Miriam s Birthday-Gift 101 
 
 Him ? He can do wonders, He saved Reuben 
 from death; why not the Jews from Rome?" 
 
 " You speak of Jesus of Nazareth ? An impostor 
 a magician, nothing more. Why, His father was 
 a carpenter! There is no mystery about Him; 
 every one knows where He lived, they can show 
 you the house, but I would speak on a matter 
 more important. My nephew has run away." 
 
 "Ah! "said Joel. Miriam turned cold. She re 
 membered Adnah s words; indeed, she had often 
 recalled them, but she had not spoken of his fears. 
 
 "Yes, an ungrateful boy, a wicked boy. We 
 found the gate wide open. I hear you go up to 
 Jerusalem." 
 
 "We do; in two days." 
 
 "Should you meet Adnah upon the way, or in 
 the city, pray him to return," said Iddo. " Remind 
 him of my love and care, how I gave him food 
 and shelter, and the warmest love of this heart. 
 And tell him that every day I pray an hour-and-a- 
 half that his wickedness may be cast out of him. 
 But alas! An evil spirit resides in his breast. And 
 just think! I intended to rear him up, a great 
 Rabbi, a learned man. But his tastes ran contrari 
 wise." 
 
 "I shall remember what you tell me," said Joel, 
 and the Pharisee departed. Joel looked after him
 
 102 Adnah 
 
 thoughtfully. "Now, he will go home and bap 
 tize himself anew," he mused, "and then we will 
 harken to the roaring of his prayers till bedtime. 
 I would I had his baptizing in my hands! 1 would 
 so hold him under the stream that he would have 
 enough of purifications for a time! " 
 
 "It is his religion," said Anna. 
 
 "True enough; and making friends with Rome 
 is mine. That reminds me, Lucius very kindly 
 has detailed some soldiers to escort us to the city. 
 And you ladies are to ride in a Roman cart." 
 
 "No, no!" cried Anna. "Shall I forget my 
 blood ? A lady rides upon a mule, not otherwise." 
 
 "As you wish. For me, I would as soon go in a 
 Roman chariot. These foolish revolts of the Phari 
 sees simply plunge the Jews deeper into subjection. 
 For me, I stick to Rome, as to my life. There are 
 some who would rather sleep in a patriotic grave, 
 than live upon a foreign soil; but among them is 
 not Joel!" 
 
 The next day came Lucius, the centurion, with his 
 soldiers. The centurion made the family a farewell 
 visit, and then entered into particulars relative to 
 business. Anna was very busy in the women s 
 quarters, preparing for the journey. Miriam wan 
 dered into the court, feeling delightfully thrilled 
 over the prospect of new experiences. She was
 
 Miriam s Birthday-Gift 103 
 
 surprised to find some one in the court. It was 
 Gothinus, the blue-eyed slave of the centurion. 
 
 "I did not once think of your being here!" said 
 Miriam, advancing with a smile. 
 
 " My master left me to await orders." 
 
 "And do you go up with us to Jerusalem ? " 
 
 " Alas, no, fair lady." 
 
 "But I am not a lady, only a girl who was 
 fifteen this morning. See what a pretty birthday- 
 gift the sun and sky have given me! " 
 
 " I would I could give you something! " said the 
 German slave. 
 
 "And so you can. I have just thought! Oh, 
 Gothinus, what a very strange name! Do you 
 like it?" 
 
 "I never did till I heard it from your lips." 
 
 " That is strange, Gothinus. But I know exactly 
 what you mean. There are things I have been so 
 used to all my life, I scarce give them a thought, 
 it may be a flower, or a star, or a name. And sud 
 denly I will realize that the familiar thing has a 
 beauty, and I will wonder! Perhaps everything is 
 beautiful, only we have not thought of it, or seen 
 its beauty in the right light. So with your name, 
 it is a pretty name, and it goes so well with your 
 blue eyes and yellow hair. Do all Germans look 
 like vou ?"
 
 104 Adnah 
 
 "How can I tell, lady? I was taken from my 
 country when a baby. But tell me what gift I can 
 give you." 
 
 " I will. Can you keep a secret ? " 
 
 "I pledge my soul." 
 
 " I know you so well, you saved my brother, 
 and I have thought much of you 
 
 " Have you, indeed, lady ? That was kind. 
 And did you pray for me, a Gentile ? " 
 
 " Yes, and not once only." 
 
 " What did you pray for me ? " 
 
 " I prayed for you that you might be happy, 
 Gothinus. And again I prayed that you might al 
 ways be my friend." 
 
 "That was the same prayer!" cried the slave. 
 "What beautiful prayers you have, lady! And I 
 would have you pray once again." 
 
 "What then ?" 
 
 " That I may become free." 
 
 " Is not Lucius kind to you ?" 
 
 " He is as a father. But if he should die, ah, 
 well! Tell me the secret." 
 
 " On the other side of that wall lives a Pharisee, 
 Iddo; and with him was his nephew, Adnah, a 
 youth of about your age; a Jew. My family for 
 bade our speaking together. But one day he called 
 to me through the gate, and told me this; that
 
 Miriam s Birthday-Gift 105 
 
 Iddo meant to carry him away somewhere and 
 injure, perhaps kill him. Then Iddo would say he 
 ran away. Now, I thought Adnah was alarmed by 
 his idle fears. For is not Iddo a great Rabbi ? I 
 said nothing. I did not believe. But last night 
 Iddo came, and said, Adnah has run away! Well, 
 I have not seen Adnah in his court for days. So I 
 remember Adnah s fears. But I tell no one. Why ? 
 Because they would not believe Adnah s story 
 against great Iddo. And Reuben would say Adnah 
 ran away, and made up his story to me, to make 
 me think otherwise. And all would be displeased 
 because I listened through the gate. And certainly 
 it was wrong. For 1 am not a good girl, and I am 
 always doing deeds that give trouble and mix up 
 things dreadfully! So this is my secret. And hear 
 what gift you are to give me, namely, a promise." 
 
 " I give it you." 
 
 " But hear it first. If it is ever in your power to 
 aid Adnah, if he is alive, you will do so. If you 
 can trace his fate, you will do all you can. I have 
 thought he may be chained somewhere to a tree, in 
 the wilds of Arbela; or lying half dead on the 
 plains; or lost in some cave." 
 
 " In my leisure moments, I will search for him," 
 said Gothinus, " and alive or dead, I shall find him, 
 unless he lies at the bottom of the sea."
 
 106 Adnah 
 
 As these two stood conversing, Reuben, who was 
 in the house, seized his father s arm, and drew him 
 to the window. "Look!" he said, pointing at 
 Miriam and Gothinus. 
 
 " I see," said Joel. " But it is only a slave." 
 
 " But, father, Miriam never remembers such dis 
 tinctions. A slave, though a Gentile, is to her as a 
 human being! When we get to Jerusalem, keep 
 her fast in the house. What will she not do, if 
 suffered to so much as sniff the air through a win 
 dow ? And what will become of her when she 
 returns hither, and I remain at the capital of 
 Judea?" 
 
 "And what would have become of her, and of 
 the Jewish nation, and of the universe, if you had 
 not been born ? " returned the Sadducee.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MAN OF THE ABYSS 
 
 "SEEK not to dissuade me, Simon. It must be 
 done now, to-day, if it is day." Thus spoke 
 Adnah, in the awful gloom of the cave. 
 
 " Be not so rash, young man," said the leper. 
 " There is food yet for days." 
 
 "That is true. But if I do not make this leap 
 while I have strength and food, then it will be too 
 late. For when I am across the abyss " 
 
 " Ah!" said Simon. " Yes, if you get across!" 
 
 " And why should I not? How often have you 
 seen me leap a farther distance, here before you ? 
 Is the abyss wider because it is deep ? " But 
 Adnah s words were bolder than his heart. Many 
 times before Simon, the leper, had begged him not 
 to make the attempt. This was his last appeal. 
 He relapsed into gloomy silence. For days Adnah 
 had practiced the skill of making a running jump. 
 It was easy enough, when failure meant only a 
 laugh and a new attempt. But he could not forget 
 that though he sometimes made, in succession, 
 
 leaps which would more than clear the frightful 
 
 107
 
 io8 Adnah 
 
 crevice between him and life, yet there were other 
 times when most unexpectedly he would jump 
 short of the goal, or fail to stop at the right place. 
 It was this uncertainty that haunted him. Often he 
 carried the lamp through the narrow hallway, and 
 stood at the edge of the chasm, looking across at 
 that slanting floor that rose towards the daylight. 
 If he left the lamp in the other room, he sometimes 
 caught sight of that far away, dim glimmer. It was 
 as if the light said, " Up here is Heaven; but death 
 lies between." 
 
 After this conversation with the leper, Adnah 
 crept to the edge of the dividing gap, without a 
 light. He always advanced to this place with an 
 oppressive sense of awe and mystery. Straining 
 his eyes, he caught sight of the mellow glow that 
 told him it was day. Day at last! for he had made 
 this trip many times in the past few hours. Day at 
 last! the day which was to determine his fate. For 
 he could no longer endure the suspense. The terror 
 of uncertainty was shaking his nerves, and unfitting 
 him for the attempt. Vague ideas, as well as real 
 dangers, were beginning to haunt him, and he was 
 more afraid of these ideas than of realities. The 
 phantasm which took strongest hold of his imagina 
 tion was the Man of the Abyss. 
 
 Whence came this strange thought ? When did
 
 The Man of the Abyss 109 
 
 the idea begin to shape itself in his inner mind ? 
 He knew not. But as he stood upon the edge of 
 the chasm, gradually there was outlined before his 
 morbid fancy, a Something, a Personality, down in 
 that bottomless black space. What was in this 
 crevice, which seemed to divide two worlds ? 
 Nothing. Yet this Nothing assumed proportions, it 
 became a fantastic being, a living thing with long 
 arms reaching up, for what? To drag down into 
 its solitudes the one who would dare to leap across 
 its prison-house. 
 
 This Man of the Abyss was a prisoner. He could 
 never hope to come forth into the light of day. 
 For ages he had dwelt in that sepulchral darkness, 
 alone, alone, and his heart thirsted for company, 
 even if it be but a cold white corpse, dashed against 
 the walls of stone. Listen, and you can hear a 
 murmur down in those unknown depths! Can 
 stone and earth murmur ? Perhaps a stream, lost in 
 the earth, lies there, its black waves, cold as ice, 
 washing lifeless shores. Perhaps it is the breath of 
 the Man of the Abyss, asleep, but ready to start up, 
 and spread out his long sinewy arms. Adnah re 
 turned to the room. 
 
 "It is day," he said. The leper did not reply. 
 Adnah lifted from the floor a long pole which he 
 had made of sticks, in the manner already de-
 
 lio Adnah 
 
 scribed. He knew it could not uphold his weight, 
 but it was strong for his purpose. "Simon," he 
 said, " when I am across, we know not how long I 
 may wander before I escape. Will you not cook 
 me cakes, that I may go prepared ?" 
 
 The leper rose, and began to prepare the cakes. 
 Adnah poured some of the water from the jar into 
 a goatskin bottle. Into another bottle he poured oil 
 for a second lamp, and he filled the lamp, but it was 
 not yet time to light it. While these preparations 
 were going forward, an oppressive silence reigned 
 between them. Adnah was very white, and his 
 mouth was set in hard lines. Simon looked more 
 terrible than ever, for his face was convulsed with 
 sorrow. 
 
 While the bread was baking, Adnah began his 
 old exercise of jumping. He put forth all his 
 strength, and presently sank panting upon the 
 ground. " I must rest," he said, " nor jump again 
 till the great leap. But have no fear. I will save 
 you, Simon. We shall escape. Is not my revenge 
 strong? It will bear me up. Ah, Iddo, Iddo, see 
 what I have for him!" He held up a long sharp 
 knife. " You will spare me this, Simon. Let your 
 blessings rest upon it! The first stroke shall be at 
 his heart, that blow for me. The second shall cut 
 off his head, that shall be your blow. Those
 
 The Man of the Abyss 1 1 1 
 
 cruel desolate years, when I was hated and beaten, 
 those days of fasting and starving, while he upon 
 the roof-top prayed so loud and long! There was 
 nothing for me to love, there were none who took 
 a thought of me, except as of a weed which has no 
 right in the marble pavement. Already I feel my 
 hand about his throat. Already I see him with his 
 cruel face and harsh, pleading, lying at my feet. An 
 eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and for misery 
 and shame, a life, yes, Simon, a life! How easy it 
 would have been for him in those days, a kind 
 word, a loving touch, a look to encourage. But 
 no, it was always my father, always my mother, al 
 ways my disgrace! Morning and night, his taunts 
 rang in my ears. Why did he hate me so ? What 
 had 1 done ? I cannot understand why he hated me 
 so! He kissed my father when he was arrested. 
 He wept, yes, Iddo wept like a child that day. But 
 after that, all his tenderness dried up. Cursed is 
 the man who has no more tears to shed. Cursed is 
 Iddo! Let him die like a dog!" 
 
 "Should you escape," said Simon earnestly, "be 
 ware of Iddo! He is a man; and you, a stripling. 
 
 "Speak not of that, I am rested. I am ready." 
 Adnah rose hurriedly, and put the cakes in a bag. 
 He tied the bag and the two bottles to the end of 
 the pole. "Go before with the light," he said.
 
 1 1 2 Adnah 
 
 The leper took up the lamp and hobbled through 
 the hallway, followed by the young man with his 
 burden. He placed the lamp upon a stone that had 
 been rolled there to serve as a stand. The light 
 streamed duskily across the abyss, and faintly re 
 vealed the farther floor. Adnah thrust his pole for 
 ward carefully, and succeeded in getting the other 
 end with its burden of food, upon the farther side. 
 "There it will wait for me," he said, placing his 
 end upon the edge. "If it were only strong 
 enough to hold me up! But no matter. You your 
 self have seen how far I can jump. It will be done 
 in a moment." 
 
 "Let us return a moment," said Simon. They 
 went back to the large apartment. " Here I will 
 bid you good-bye," said he. "It is so dark you 
 cannot see me. Forget that I am a leper. You 
 have been kind to me, and I have grown to love 
 you. Soon I shall be alone. If you ever escape, 
 bear my love to Lazarus, and Martha, and Mary, 
 and tell them why I never came back, and how I 
 always thought of them, and how the thought of 
 them became the one pleasure of my life." 
 
 "I shall tell them, Simon. But fear not, I shall 
 return for you. Will you come and see me make 
 the leap?" 
 
 " No, dear friend, I will abide here."
 
 The Man of the Abyss 113 
 
 "lam glad," said Adnah; "we do so ill when 
 our friends expect much of us! So remain; but 
 pray for me. Good-bye, Simon. There is a girl 
 named Miriam, but lepers deal not with the liv 
 ing, it is true. As for my father, he was crucified 
 by Pilate, because he was a thief. As for my 
 mother, I have no message for her. Good-bye. 
 And presently we will say how great a matter we 
 made of a small leap!" 
 
 Simon did not answer. Adnah rose, and went to 
 the edge, where the lamp burned. He looked 
 down into that murmuring depth, and seemed to 
 hear the monster stir, and stretch his arms up 
 wards. He went back to the mouth of the hallway, 
 to make his run up to the edge. The feat had 
 never before seemed so dangerous, so hopeless. 
 What if the Man of the Abyss should reach up and 
 drag him down into the chasm ? What if the gulf 
 sucked him down between its walls as a feather in 
 a maelstrom? Idle fancies! Vain fears! He set 
 his teeth hard, he put his foot forwards, he gave his 
 body a quick impetus and ran swiftly, with held 
 breath, through the darkened hallway, out into the 
 wider chamber. He saw the flash of the lamp, and 
 it seemed to possess a dazzling brilliancy. In the 
 same moment he was conscious of the appalling 
 depth and width of the abyss. His swift motion
 
 1 14 Adnah 
 
 caused the cold unnatural air to stream through his 
 long hair as if he had entered a gale. His feet left 
 the earth with a mighty spring, and as he soared 
 above the chasm, he was terrified by the awful con 
 sciousness that he had jumped too soon, that he had 
 lacked several feet of the line which he had marked 
 as his starting-point. How many thoughts rushed 
 upon him in that instant! But more terrible than 
 all was the fancy that the Man of the Abyss had 
 awakened, that he was reaching up, that he was 
 shrieking with victory, with mad exultation, 
 that his slimy, dripping fingers were clutching 
 at his limbs, drawing him down, down. He 
 fell. How long he lived in those few seconds! 
 He reached out his arms wildly. His feet had 
 struck upon the farther edge of the chasm, then 
 had slipped away. His body had fallen upon the 
 floor, and it also was slipping back. His hands 
 fought with the smooth stone floor, and found 
 nothing to which they could cling. So near suc 
 cess! He cried for help, as if that were possible. 
 He delayed his fate, he fought inch by inch for his 
 life. But the floor, as we have said, sloped down 
 towards the crevice, sloped with fatal abrupt 
 ness. 
 
 A voice answered his, not now the voice of that 
 monstrous Man of the Abyss, but the wild accents
 
 The Man of the Abyss 1 1 5 
 
 of Simon the leper. "On your right!" it cried. 
 "Reach out upon your right! " 
 
 Adnah slowly extended his arm in that direction, 
 slipping almost imperceptibly all the while 
 slipping more and more toward death. Then his 
 elbow encountered something, other than the 
 smoothness, as of glass, which had filled him with 
 despair. It was a resisting substance. He trusted 
 his weight upon it. It yielded somewhat, but held. 
 It was enough. Slowly, carefully, he drew himself 
 up, putting as little burden as possible upon that 
 saving object. Now his knees were over the edge. 
 Now he was saved! 
 
 It was the end of the pole, with its goatskin 
 bottles, which had offered him something to which 
 he could cling. Simon had thrown all his weight 
 upon the other end, thus holding it across the 
 chasm. In this manner the rudely fastened 
 "bridge," incapable of sustaining a heavy weight 
 in any one part of it, had saved Adnah s life, be 
 cause his weight had been thrown upon it in the 
 direction of its length. 
 
 For a while Adnah and Simon stood locking 
 at each other across the abyss. They were con 
 quered by overwhelming emotion, and nothing 
 was said, except with their eyes. These were 
 as points of fire, leaping towards each other
 
 ii6 Adnah 
 
 through the distance and the gloom and causing each 
 heart to burst into flame with love and grati 
 tude.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD 
 
 ADNAH was the first to speak. "Safe! " he cried. 
 
 "A wonderful leap!" exclaimed Simon. 
 
 "I said I would do it!" Adnah shouted, in his 
 excitement. 
 
 "No other would have made the attempt! " the 
 leper declared with tears of pride. 
 
 "It was a little thing!" faltered Adnah. Then 
 he sank upon the ground and burst into tears. 
 What a curious ending for an heroic adventure! 
 He soon recovered, however, and said in a broken 
 voice, "What a silly child!" Simon did not an 
 swer, he was doing likewise. Adnah stood up. 
 "Now, dear friend, take hope. This is the first 
 jump toward success. Tie my lamp to your end 
 of this pole, that I may draw it across." 
 
 Simon shook away his tears, and did as he was 
 bidden. Adnah drew the pole with its burden, 
 which had been lighted from Simon s lamp, across 
 the abyss. The light from the second lamp 
 gleamed strangely as it hung suspended over that 
 
 unfathomable chasm. Presently it was landed. 
 
 117
 
 1 1 8 Adnah 
 
 Adnah untied the rope which held the "bridge" 
 together. He wound it about his waist, and placed 
 the sticks where he might find them again in case 
 of need. The bread and water hung from his girdle. 
 His feet were bare. He fell upon his hands and 
 knees, not daring to trust the slippery floor, and 
 pushing the lamp before him, began the ascent. In 
 this position the goatskin bottles dragged upon the 
 ground. For awhile he and the leper continued to 
 shout good-bye to each other, but at last the voices 
 came like faint echoes through the cave, then 
 ceased altogether. 
 
 For some distance the floor too preserved its 
 glassy smoothness, calling forth every effort to 
 maintain one s place. But when the cavities were 
 reached, the ground grew rough, while it started 
 upward dizzily. The surface was now perforated 
 with cavities, of unknown depth, but doubtless 
 leading down to the horrible mystery of the abyss. 
 Adnah soon found them all about him. The lamp 
 revealed their ugly gaping mouths, small and large, 
 round and irregular. Sometimes a hole of many 
 yards in width opened its mouth directly in his 
 path; then he must circle round it upon that dizzy 
 slant. At other times the holes were like wells, 
 only a few feet in width, but so numerous, the eye 
 could not see a place where they did not threaten.
 
 A Glimpse of the World 119 
 
 Then it was necessary to proceed between them, 
 sometimes upon a neck of rock so narrow, the bottle 
 swung from the rope over chill space. Well for him 
 that the ground was grated and ridged! but its 
 roughness was not always sufficient to prevent him 
 from losing his hold. 
 
 Pausing to look back, he saw the leper s lamp 
 like a tiny spark in the engulfing darkness. He 
 shouted a word of encouragement, but his voice 
 was sucked down into the depths. But though his 
 voice had risen cheerily, he was very weary. Now 
 he lay panting upon a little ridge, wondering how 
 long he had been upon the way, and how much 
 farther he must go. He looked up, but his lamp 
 prevented him from seeing any glow of daylight; 
 still, so far from the goal! 
 
 And now the grated peculiarity of the surface 
 was disappearing. It rose in ridges, like waves of 
 a raging sea, which had been dashed high and 
 turned into stone. The space between ridge and 
 ridge became smooth and slippery. Sometimes the 
 bottles swung between his feet, and prevented him 
 from making his position sure. As he was obliged 
 to hold the lamp with one hand, his danger was in 
 creased. But ever up and up, slowly, painfully he 
 crept, ever nearer to freedom and revenge. And 
 every difficulty he encountered increased his hatred
 
 1 2O Adnah 
 
 of Iddo and his resolution to require from hkn the 
 uttermost. 
 
 In one of the most difficult places, while he clung 
 with his feet, elbows, and the disengaged hand, the 
 bag containing the bread swung around and struck 
 one bare foot from under him. Taken unawares, 
 he struggled to regain his place. He slipped and 
 began to slide downward with sickening rapidity. 
 Straight towards the cavities which had nearly all 
 been left behind him, he glided. His hand seized 
 upon the edge of an opening. He circled round it 
 to its base, then hung upon a narrow strip of rock 
 between two abysses. His lamp dropped from his 
 hand, and fell. Clinging there, he watched it dis 
 appear in the darkness. It whirled down into the 
 open throat, it vanished, he listened, but not 
 even an echo was to be heard. And now, alone in 
 the darkness, he seemed suddenly to find weird 
 company. The Man of the Abyss was seeking him 
 once more. 
 
 Cold with terror, Adnah crept from the narrow 
 strip of rock, and began the ascent. He must be 
 more sure, he must go more slowly. Was not the 
 Man of the Abyss darting from cavity to cavity, 
 waiting for a misstep, holding up his black arms ? 
 Now he could see that faint halo of the day, to 
 wards which his way was directed. He left once
 
 A Glimpse of the World 121 
 
 more the cavities behind him, he found himself on 
 the smooth waves of stone. He gained a resting- 
 place, where a boulder had been poised upon the 
 hillside. Here he must rest, for his strength was 
 gone. He crept upon the other side of the refuge, 
 and throwing himself at full length against the 
 shelter, soon fell asleep. 
 
 He woke with a chill dread of the darkness. He 
 looked up, but the light was not visible. It was 
 no longer day. He must wait for that signal else 
 how could he direct his path ? It was difficult to 
 sleep again. Often he started up, only to find that 
 the time had not yet come. He was rested, he was 
 eager for the battle against nature, and this waiting 
 became very hard to bear. Still the light of the 
 leper s lamp, like a dim spark, shone upward with 
 a friendly gleam. 
 
 Day came. Adnah drew forth a cake and ate, 
 for hunger was with him in the solitude. He drank 
 sparingly of his water, then left his desolate bed 
 chamber, and proceeded up the acclivity. Steadily 
 nearer he drew, and steadily brighter and more 
 defined became the daylight. The vast extent 
 of the cave contracted. The walls rapidly ap 
 proached each other, the ceiling descended within 
 a few yards of the floor. Now the light shone 
 all about him. The yards between ceiling, floor
 
 122 Adnah 
 
 and walls, became feet. He had reached the 
 neck of the extensive cave. He pushed his way, as 
 through a small door, into a chamber cut in the 
 rock. The glare almost blinded him. Outside that 
 opening, was the world. 
 
 He heard a whirring sound all about him. 
 Winged creatures fluttered above his head, then 
 shot out into the daylight. They were pigeons. 
 Eager to be free of the cave, Adnah did not pause 
 to drink in the fresh air. He rose to his feet, and 
 ran across the room. He reached the outer door 
 way and looked out. 
 
 The wild cliffs of Arbela, which rose hundreds of 
 feet above the wild gorge that directs its sinuous 
 way towards the two Horns of Hattin, were noted 
 for their caves. Far above the valley, inaccessible 
 from below, the mouths of these caverns looked 
 forth, while above them rose the sheer rock, cutting 
 off escape from above. They had their entrances 
 somewhere far back from the visible mouths, but 
 most of these had been closed up and forgotten. 
 In the time of Herod the Great, these caves were 
 inhabited by robbers and their families. They had 
 only been driven out of their airy retreats by means 
 of iron cages, let down from the summits of the 
 precipices, cages filled with terrible soldiers. 
 Armed with iron hooks, these soldiers had dragged
 
 A Glimpse of the World 123 
 
 forth the miserable fugitives, casting them below, 
 to certain destruction. In some caves, bonfires had 
 been built at their entrances, smothering the in 
 habitants. It was in one of these caves that Adnah 
 found himself. 
 
 Far below, lay the narrow green valley. Far 
 above rose the beetling precipice. On a level with 
 the opening, nothing but a patch of blue sky.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IN MID-AIR 
 
 AFTER that first long despairing gaze, Adnah 
 crept back from the opening of the cave, and threw 
 himself upon the stone floor by one of the walls. 
 That vision of the outside world had filled him with 
 bitterness and futile rage. To have come thus far, 
 and through so many dangers, only to find his hope 
 a mockery! The sight of the sun, and green trees, 
 and a dancing rivulet among the hills, gave him 
 the impulse to hide from these beautiful things, 
 from all cheering objects. He closed his eyes, as if 
 even the light were hateful to him. But when his 
 eyes were shut, he feared that black space beyond 
 the room, which slanted downward towards the 
 abyss. He could never return to the leper. Here 
 he must die. The very thought of slipping down 
 between those horrible pitfalls without his lamp, 
 caused the image of the Man of the Abyss to peer 
 through the doorway. If he could have closed up 
 that door! Still lying motionless, he looked about 
 him, muttering, "Ah, Iddo, Iddo!" 
 
 The room was not large, but in the opposite wall 
 124
 
 In Mid-Air 125 
 
 a hollow place had been eaten out by the teeth of 
 time. The floor was strewn with twigs and leaves 
 which the birds had brought here to use in building. 
 Adnah now observed that a white pigeon had re 
 mained upon her nest, her feathers ruffled up about 
 her neck, her eyes alternately looking at the in 
 truder, and the opening. She would have dearly 
 loved to soar out into the sunbath of freedom, but 
 she had her duty at home, as duty is understood by 
 birds, and she was resolved to stay with her two 
 eggs till they were eggs no longer. There was a 
 purple ring about her neck. "I would I had your 
 wings, Purple Necklace," said Adnah. 
 
 As he continued to lie motionless, the other 
 pigeons one by one returned. Besides Purple 
 Necklace there were four; one her mate, gaudy in 
 his bronze plumage, a very plump and overbearing 
 bird; then a pair of dove-colored pigeons, the male 
 plainly afraid of the bronze cock, edging away 
 from him continually, till driven to the opening, 
 when he would fly away a short distance, then re 
 turn to be beaten off again. His mate in the mean 
 time unconcernedly went about her household 
 affairs, which consisted at present in feeding a 
 gawky, scantily-clothed pair of children. Adnah 
 had not observed these young ones before, and he 
 was displeased both by their ungainly motions, and
 
 126 Adnah 
 
 by the greedy cries with which they divided their 
 worm. The last pigeon was snow-white, and 
 while she felt at home with the others, she was 
 plainly unhappy. She stood upon the ledge that 
 formed the bottom of the window, looking out 
 into the sunny world, and ever looking, turning her 
 beautiful neck from side to side. "Poor Snow- 
 white!" whispered Adnah, "what cruel one has 
 shot your mate with his bow ? Or what fate has 
 befallen him ? Plainly you are lonely, fair one, 
 though in the midst of such a company." 
 
 The pigeons soon lost their fears of Adnah. 
 They held a consultation about him in their alcove. 
 "Clearly this is some huge bird," said the bronze 
 cock; "otherwise, how could he have flown 
 hither? And therefore he is our brother." " It is 
 true; your cooings are those of wisdom," declared 
 the dove-colored male. " And who asked you for 
 your opinion ? " demanded Bronze Plumage. Then 
 Bronze Plumage began to turn himself about and 
 about, in order to work up his rage; and when he 
 had described many narrow circles, he darted at 
 Dove-color and chased him to the window-sill. 
 Then again he followed his tail round and round 
 till his fury was in such a state that he plunged at 
 poor Dove-color and bounced him out into the un 
 friendly world. After this demonstration of his ex-
 
 In Mid-Air 127 
 
 ecutive powers, Bronze Plumage hopped toward 
 his own Purple Necklace, so swelled out with rage 
 and pride that his breast almost smothered his bill. 
 Poor Dove-color circled in the air outside till he 
 thought it safe to enter once more. Bronze Plu 
 mage looked at him with his wicked little eyes and 
 said, " If you come cooing around me, I ll do it 
 again!" Then Dove-color hopped meekly over to 
 his ungainly children, and hid his head under one 
 wing. In the meantime Snow-white continued to 
 gaze from her perch with searching eyes, looking 
 for that mate who would never return. Ah, poor 
 Snow-white, he is gone from thee, he lies, not stiff 
 and cold, but hot and browned by his own gravy, 
 upon some cannibal s board. But take heart, 
 Snow-white, are there not other mates to be 
 sought and found? Fear not! Somewhere in the 
 wide world, a friend is looking for thee, even as 
 thou lookest for a friend. 
 
 Night came and found Adnah s bottle of water 
 and bag of cakes materially reduced. All that day 
 he had remained in a dazed state of inertness that 
 comes when hope flees. At night he slept heavily, 
 the result of exhausted sorrow. On the morning 
 he was awakened by the cooing of pigeons. 
 "Good-morning, my friends!" he said, feeling 
 new life steal into his blood with the fresh sun-
 
 128 Adnah 
 
 light. For in the early morning the light flooded 
 the stone room. He drew in new activity under 
 that golden bath. Purple necklace still sat upon 
 her two eggs, as if the hatching of a pair of squabs 
 was of more importance than the downfall of 
 nations. Wise Purple Necklace! If those pigeons 
 who leave their nests to soar into higher spheres, 
 would only learn of thee! Still stood Snow-white, 
 her eyes circled by red rims, staring into the world, 
 and finding it lonely and desolate. But what was 
 this going forward on the window-sill ? A strange 
 pigeon had come, and was battling for Snow-white. 
 How had he heard of the lonely one ? Strange 
 how hearts speak together from remote regions! 
 
 Bronze Plumage is battling with the stranger. 
 And O, time-serving Dove-color! Thou, too, hast 
 joined thy forces with those of thy domineering, 
 hectoring master. It is two against the stranger. 
 How they fight and roll in their fluffy feathers, and 
 swell and coo with rage as if they were not sweet 
 innocent birds, but human beings without wings! 
 He is defeated, the stranger turns, his breast quite 
 red with blood, he staggers over the sill, he falls. 
 But his beating wings find the air, and up he soars, 
 and flies away. And Snow-white, who all this 
 time has pretended to see nothing, spreads her 
 wings, and follows the stranger, never to return.
 
 In Mid-Air 129 
 
 Then Bronze Plumage after swelling till his head is 
 quite hidden by his breast, till his breath comes in 
 gasps through his buried bill, turns upon his recent 
 ally, and gives him chase. 
 
 Adnah crawled to the window-sill and looked 
 down at the remote valley, and up at the distant 
 overhanging precipice. He uttered a sudden cry. 
 He had seen something which yesterday was not 
 visible. About ten feet below the sill ran a ledge 
 along the face of the cliff, scarcely a foot in width. 
 It began under the window, and ran past the short 
 turn in the wall. Much farther it did not go, for 
 when the crooked wall turned back again, it was 
 gone. Yesterday he had gazed intently at this 
 ledge, he had seen how he could reach it. At the 
 side of his natural window stood a stone column, to 
 which he could conveniently tie his rope. By the 
 rope he could reach the frightfully narrow ledge. 
 The very thought of standing on that strip of rock 
 in mid-air made his blood turn cold. Hitherto, he 
 had seen nothing to be gained in reaching the 
 ledge. Now, it was different. At that turn in the 
 wall, which for several yards hid that part of the 
 surface from him, something white lay upon the 
 ledge. It was a parchment, such as was then used 
 in the writing of letters. 
 
 How had it come there ? Certainly not from
 
 130 Adnah 
 
 above; it was clearly impossible that it could have 
 come from below. A pigeon could not carry so 
 heavy a weight, even granting a bird should show 
 such an abnormal taste as to seize upon a manu 
 script. The conviction shaped itself in Adnah s 
 mind that the turn in the wall hid the mouth of an 
 other cave. Why not ? Below him he could see 
 openings. And if the letter had been thrown out 
 of a cave, either somebody was, or had been 
 within. Still, that ledge was not to be traveled 
 without more certainty. Adnah set himself the 
 task of watching that turning point in the wall, 
 much to the annoyance of his pigeon friends, who 
 wanted the window-sill to themselves. And indeed 
 Bronze Plumage looked at him with eyes that said, 
 " Ah, if you were only a little smaller, my friend! " 
 On the preceding day Adnah had tied his cloak to 
 the stone pillar, hoping it might be seen by a chance 
 traveler in the gorge. He had put it on at night, as 
 the air grew cold. Now once more he divested 
 himself of the garment and let it flutter as a signal, 
 having little hope that it would be discovered. 
 The day wore on. The sun had passed its highest 
 glory when his watching was rewarded. A stray 
 pigeon, after circling about his window-sill, darted 
 to the right, made straight for that part of the wall 
 that was hidden by its corner, and vanished. Evi-
 
 In Mid-Air 131 
 
 dently it had entered a cave, only a few feet above 
 the narrow ledge of rock. Or had it simply clung 
 to the rough surface ? No, the parchment had 
 surely been cast from a cave. Here was proof. In 
 his excitement Adnah leaped up and by his sudden 
 motion struck the water-bottle. It bounded out of 
 the opening. He watched it fall to earth with a 
 sickening sense of loss. He became aware, at the 
 same time, that he was quite thirsty, for he had 
 been hoarding up his treasure. His nerves were so 
 shaken by this loss that he threw himself upon the 
 ground and wept and bewailed his misfortune. 
 His spirit of adventure was quite gone. The day 
 came to an end, another night, bright with stars, 
 succeeded. His longing for water had become in 
 tense. He had eaten more of the bread, but it did 
 not give him ease. Through the long night he 
 tossed and moaned. In the first light of day he 
 arose. "It must be done this morning or never!" 
 he said. 
 
 He waited till the sun shone bright, then tied one 
 end of the rope to the stone pillar. Without daring 
 to look down, he seized the swinging rope, and let 
 himself down upon the ledge. Then he crept for 
 ward sideways, his face against the cliff, both arms 
 outspread, as if seeking to grasp the grim surface. 
 "If I can keep from looking down! " he thought.
 
 132 Adnah 
 
 "If I can keep from thinking!" He came to a 
 place where his foot told him the ledge had 
 dwindled to a mere rim of a few inches in width. 
 He stopped. He could not remember any place 
 where the ledge grew narrower. He began to 
 tremble, and a cold perspiration broke out upon his 
 brow. He leaned his head against the wall, think 
 ing, "I am growing dizzy! " But perhaps the nar 
 row place did not extend far. He cautiously 
 advanced his foot. Yes, he could feel be 
 yond it. But could he make so far a step ? 
 He must! He dared not delay to consider the 
 danger. 
 
 Well for him that he had left behind his bread- 
 bag and all unnecessary burdens! Slowly planting 
 his naked foot beyond the dangerous point, steady 
 ing himself with his palms against the wall, he 
 threw his weight upon the advanced limb. Now 
 he was over. And now he had come to the angle 
 where the wall slightly turned. Near him lay the 
 parchment. He saw that it was written over in 
 Greek characters. But that brief glance had also 
 shown him the swimming world far, far below 
 him, a world that seemed to rise in curious bil 
 lows as if to receive him. Oh, for the will to turn 
 his eyes away from that enchanting danger, that fas 
 cinating terror! How could he gain the resolution ?
 
 In Mid-Air 133 
 
 Think of Iddo and of his revenge! Ah, yes! He 
 was strong again. 
 
 He raised his eyes, and scanned the surface of 
 the cliff. One foot touched the manuscript. And 
 yonder the ledge came to a sudden end. But here, 
 within easy reach of his hands, even as low as his 
 shoulders, was the mouth of the cave. Oh, deli 
 cious feeling of safety! He stared into the open 
 ing, he laid his arms over the second window-sill. 
 
 What sound was that from the interior of this 
 new cave ? A wild scream, a scream of fear and 
 rage. What white thing was this darting towards 
 him through the gloom ? Were these the gnashing 
 teeth, the bloodshot eyes of a savage beast ? Yes, 
 and of more than a beast of prey! 
 
 Two hands caught his arms and tore them away 
 from the coping. He was bent backward over the 
 fearful depths. A frenzied voice shrieked in his 
 ears. He gave no heed to the words. 
 
 It was enough to comprehend that the voice was 
 the voice of Iddo.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ADNAH LEARNS THE TRUTH 
 
 WHEN Adnah recovered consciousness, for in 
 that frenzied grasp of Iddo he had swooned away, 
 his first sensation was one of surprise that he 
 should recover at all. Coupled with this was a 
 curious contempt for the dangers of the cliff, since 
 he had fallen hundreds of feet, yet was alive! 
 What of his bones? He tried to move, expecting 
 excruciating pains. He experienced nothing of the 
 sort. He opened his eyes, and saw a strange face 
 bending over him. " Where didyou come from ? " 
 said Adnah faintly. 
 
 A strange voice answered, "It is enough that I 
 am here." 
 
 "You see before you a strange being," said 
 Adnah, closing his eyes, the better to enjoy his 
 own greatness; "one who can leap frightful 
 abysses, scale glassy slopes full of gaping mouths, 
 cling like a fly to stone walls, and fall hundreds of 
 feet, yet be perfectly safe and unhurt! " 
 
 " As to your being like unto a fly, I know not," 
 34
 
 Adnah Learns the Truth 135 
 
 said the voice. " But as to your falling such dis 
 tances, think it not. You are in the cave." 
 
 Adnah started up. " I did not fall ? " 
 
 "That you live, proves it," returned the other, 
 who was also a youth of about his own age. 
 
 At first Adnah felt a foolish disappointment, as if 
 he had not quite come up to his own expectations. 
 Then his mind grew clearer. He rose to his feet 
 crying, " What of Iddo ?" 
 
 The stranger pointed. And there lay Iddo upon 
 the ground of the second cave, securely tied to a 
 projection from the wall, so he could scarcely move. 
 His arms were bound behind his back. His legs 
 were so wrapped with cords that they were almost 
 hidden in the meshes. Adnah walked to where he 
 lay upon his side, and gloated upon the prisoner. 
 "Ah, Iddo," he said, "I have dreamed of this 
 moment! I have seen you lying thus, many a time, 
 as Simon and I passed dreary days, and even weeks, 
 in the cave." 
 
 " Have mercy upon me! " moaned the Pharisee. 
 
 "Listen, Iddo; you know the law. Heard you 
 ever such a saying as An eye for an eye, a tooth 
 for a tooth ? " 
 
 "Adnah, my nephew, you will not murder a de 
 fenseless old man ?" 
 
 "I am your nephew, and that is one more charge
 
 136 Adnah 
 
 against you. But you are not too old to die, 
 Iddo. See, this is the knife I have carried next my 
 heart, to keep it warm for you! " 
 
 Iddo rolled his terrified eyes toward the stranger. 
 " Do not let him kill a poor, innocent man, who is 
 great in Israel. Save me from him, and great shall 
 be the ransom given you! " 
 
 The stranger shrugged his shoulders. " I want 
 no ransom for a dog," he said. 
 
 "You are my friend!" cried Adnah, grasping the 
 stranger s hand. "What is the name of him who 
 saved my life ? " 
 
 " I am Gothinus; but take not my hand, for I am 
 a slave, and no Jew, but a German." 
 
 " I care not if you be Jew or Gentile, rich or poor; 
 there is an honest heart in your bosom!" cried 
 Adnah, seizing the reluctant hand. "Good Gothi 
 nus, how can I thank you ?" 
 
 "Thank me not; it is Miriam, the daughter of 
 Joel, who has sent me to deliver you. I saw the 
 signal given yesterday, fluttering from a cave. All 
 last night I was climbing among the rocks. When 
 at last I saw the mule and found the path, and 
 Iddo s slave standing at the back entrance, 1 re 
 joiced." 
 
 "Ah, the slave!" cried Adnah. "What of 
 him ?"
 
 Adnah Learns the Truth 137 
 
 "Nothing of him," returned Gothinus coolly, 
 "save a breathless head cut from a lifeless body. 
 For he sought to oppose me. We fought, and I 
 hewed him down." 
 
 Iddo gave a despairing cry. 
 
 "Yes, Pharisee," said Gothinus, "no one knows 
 of this place, save we three. Look, Adnah, see 
 what a pleasant occupation Iddo had, before you 
 interrupted him! " 
 
 The slave pointed to a spot where aheap of coins 
 lay scattered. "Here he keeps his money," con 
 tinued Gothinus. "He comes to count it, to take 
 away what he needs. Only he and the slave know 
 of this place, else he would never cast his money 
 about so freely. How came he by such a store, 
 think you? For Iddo is a poor man! Well, as I 
 stood watching him, suddenly you appeared at 
 yonder opening. You should have seen Iddo s face 
 turn white! He thought you a ghost! I ran for 
 ward, but he was quicker. He seized you, he 
 would have hurled you from the ledge. But with 
 one hand I caught you, with the other, your uncle. 
 Both of you swooned in my grasp. He fell back 
 ward upon the floor, and I could give you all my 
 strength. When he recovered, he found himself 
 bound as you see him. What a surprise for 
 Iddo!"
 
 1 38 Adnah 
 
 " Gothinus, I love you as a brother! And you 
 know Miriam ? And she sent you hither ? Strange, 
 how forces are being put into motion for our happi 
 ness, while we, unknowing, despair! As for you, 
 Iddo, prepare to die!" 
 
 "Gothinus, save me!" pleaded the Pharisee. 
 " All this money shall be yours. It will make you 
 a rich man. Dear Gothinus 
 
 " I am a Gentile," returned the slave, "but I know 
 a little of your law, for Lucius, the centurion, loves 
 it. Does it not say, Refuse to accept the price of a 
 dog? Whether it does or does not, save your 
 wailings! If I were Adnah, I would give you a 
 quick passage to your second world!" 
 
 Adnah drew his knife. "In the name of my 
 miserable years, and not forgetting the wrongs to 
 Simon!" he cried. "But I remember, a parch 
 ment lies outside upon the ledge. Gothinus, can 
 you read ? " 
 
 "Yes; for am I not a slave? I will get the 
 parchment! " Gothinus hurried to the opening and 
 leaning over, secured the manuscript. 
 
 "It goes exceedingly against my taste," observed 
 Adnah musingly, "to strike a defenseless man. 
 Read, Gothinus. It may be, here is something to 
 soften my heart towards this villain." 
 
 Iddo, seeing the parchment, gave a wild scream,
 
 Adnah Learns the Truth 139 
 
 and fought to free himself, but the attempt was in 
 vain. Gothinus read, 
 
 "To Iddo the Pharisee, my dear brother, peace 
 and wisdom and prosperity. 
 
 "What!" cried Adnah, starting violently, "his 
 brother? It does not say his brother?" 
 
 "So it reads," responded Gothinus, who saw no 
 cause for excitement. " Shall I read on ? " 
 
 " But when was this written ? " 
 
 "There is no time specified. But you can see the 
 writing is not very old." 
 
 "Not old! how could it be otherwise? Ah, but 
 it has been well preserved in this cave; that is it. 
 Iddo s brother died eight years ago. ... He 
 was crucified. Read on, Gothinus." Adnah cov 
 ered his face with his hands and shook violently. 
 
 " / write, as formerly, from the palace. Since 
 you came last in Jerusalem, I have beard nothing of 
 my son " 
 
 "Since he came last in Jerusalem?" repeated 
 Adnah, dropping his hands and staring first at the 
 reader, then at his cringing uncle; "I must have 
 been very young at that time. I cannot remember 
 that my father ever left me to go up to Jerusalem. 
 And how could my father have written from a 
 palace ? And he says he had written from the pal 
 ace formerly. This is a wild forgery, indeed! "
 
 140 Adnah 
 
 "I know not," said Gothinus calmly. "Will 
 you have the rest, or pause to digest what has al 
 ready been given you ? " 
 
 " Read, read quickly, good Gothinus! " 
 
 " / have heard nothing of my son, and this 
 
 long silence has grown heavier than my heart can 
 bear. Remember, Iddo, I am a foolish, fond old 
 father, old, at least, in sufferings, and all the 
 happiness of my life now comes from hearing of my 
 dear boy. " 
 
 "Strange, strange," murmured Adnah. "This 
 must be to another Iddo, from another father, but 
 how he loves his child! " 
 
 "Perhaps the light will presently dawn," ob 
 served Gothinus stoically; " surely we have had 
 twilight long enough! I read: // has now been 
 eight years and well have you kept your 
 trust. 
 
 "Eight years?" interrupted Adnah sharply. 
 "Did you read eight years ? Eight years since 
 when ? God of Israel! eight years ? " He turned 
 upon Iddo. "Who wrote that letter? When was 
 it written ? What does it mean ?" 
 
 Iddo lay stretched upon the floor with a livid face. 
 There was a white foam upon his lips. He made 
 no answer. His eyes wore the glassy stare of one 
 who is suffocating.
 
 Adnah Learns the Truth 141 
 
 "Read read read!" cried Adnah, wildly. 
 
 "Eight years, oh " he caught the arm of 
 
 Gothinus to steady himself. 
 
 " Dear brother, cease to reproach yourself. 
 Banish your foolish and vain regrets. For what 
 you did in those fatal days, surely you have alto 
 gether atoned by years of tender devotion to my dar 
 ling boy. Do not brood upon my tramp to Jerusalem, 
 the soldiers on horseback dragging me by a rope, 
 / was scarcely conscious of those tortures, for the 
 shadow of the cross fell upon the world, look where 
 I might ; and still less do I care for my sufferings, 
 since I have escaped crucifixion " 
 
 "Read that again!" came Adnah s voice, low, 
 muffled, dangerous. 
 
 " / have escaped crucifixion, therefore I pray 
 
 you think of this, and be of good cheer. What 
 though eight years have dragged by ? Has not my 
 Adnah " 
 
 "It says My Adnah ?" 
 
 " Has not my Adnah grown up under your 
 
 care and instruction, one of the most promising 
 among the coming great ones of Israel ? 
 
 " He was not crucified," whispered Adnah to 
 himself; " my father lives! " 
 
 " Therefore, Iddo, let your conscience no longer 
 reproach you, since my Adnah is already in the
 
 142 Adnah 
 
 palace of King Herod, one foot upon the ladder of 
 greatness, the other about to leave the earth. 1 >: 
 
 "Ah!" whispered Adnah with a glance at his 
 uncle. Iddo quivered convulsively. 
 
 "Truly," said Gothinus, glancing up at Adnah, 
 " I knew not I was dealing with so great a person 
 age! But I read; / am strong, I am able to bear 
 the blame into the grave. 
 
 " I begin to understand," said Adnah in the same 
 curious whisper, while his face grew more white 
 and terrible. 
 
 " After all, I was not a fit father for so talented 
 and gracious a boy. I could not have trained him 
 aright. You who know everything, and who have 
 done everything well except that one time, you are 
 the one to educate him and develop his powers. So 
 he is the son of a Pharisee, not of a Publican ! Ah, 
 if he could lie taught to love me just a little ! then 
 it would not be hard for me, this life as a Roman s 
 slave. But that cannot be, of course, for he must 
 believe me a thief, and believing thus, cannot feel 
 for me even kindness. Better so. Now for this 
 time, farewell, my brother, but I beseech you, delay 
 not to write and tell me how fares my child. For I 
 cease to be a slave in this great palace, and become 
 its master, when I have tidings of my Adnah. " 
 
 " Villain! " shrieked Adnah, finding his voice at
 
 Adnah Learns the Truth 143 
 
 last, and rushing upon the prostrate Iddo, "so it 
 was you who stole the money from the receipt of 
 custom, while my father took the blame! It is you, 
 you, Iddo, who are the thief and who should have 
 been crucified! Your heart is black with that crime 
 while your hypocritical lips pray that I may be for 
 given the sins of my father. His sins ? nay, yours, 
 the infamy, doubly infamous because of your pre 
 tense of innocence. Woe unto you, Iddo! whose 
 crime is visited upon your brother by his own con 
 sent, who is a slave in your stead an innocent 
 man, my father; a noble man; but a foolish man, 
 to imagine that his son could receive aught but 
 curses from the one for whose guilty sake he en 
 dures shame and suffering. Better for you, O Iddo, 
 if you had never been born! "
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 REVENGE 
 
 IDDO struggled to rise upon his knees. 
 "Speak! " cried Adnah, " speak, false uncle, false 
 brother, false Pharisee! Speak, or this dagger will 
 find your heart. Confess! Were you the thief ? " 
 "Adnah, Adnah, mercy!" 
 " Did you steal the money ? Quick 
 
 "Yes, O yes Stay your hand, Adnah, my 
 
 nephew." 
 
 " And you let my father bear the blame ?" 
 "Hear reason, Adnah, hear me; that was not 
 my fault. It was his choice. Before I could con 
 fess, he cried out to the soldiers that he was the 
 thief, not I. Do not condemn me, since he, of his 
 own choice, went to meet crucifixion, which the 
 mercy of the Romans changed to slavery." 
 
 "Yes. . . . But why did he take the blame 
 from you ?" 
 
 "O, Adnah, he loves, he venerates me. Adnah, 
 Adnah, remember your father loves me with his 
 very soul! " 
 
 "Nay, he loves not you, but a dream which 
 144
 
 Revenge 145 
 
 his fancy has named Iddo. But speak: what 
 were you to do for me ? " 
 
 " Give you food and shelter; have I not done so ? " 
 
 "And no kindness, withal?" 
 
 "I would have been kind, Adnah, had you let 
 me." 
 
 False Iddo ! Were you to educate me, and place 
 me in Herod s palace ? The truth, Iddo, or instant 
 death!" 
 
 " But yes, I still mean to do so, Adnah. Did you 
 think I meant to starve you in the cave ? Oh, no, 
 my slave and I were coming this very night to tell 
 you it was only a a little jest, it was only to try 
 your courage, it was only a a 
 
 "You hear him ?" said Adnah, gazing a moment 
 at the wretched man with unutterable scorn, then 
 turning to Gothinus 
 
 " I hear," said the German calmly. 
 
 "What would you do with him, Gothinus?" 
 
 " Silence him," advised his friend darkly. 
 
 " The dagger is too quick a death," said Adnah, 
 still awful in his wrath. "After my revenge is 
 completed, what does life offer ? My father is a 
 slave and I am homeless, outcast, scorned. Who 
 will believe my word against Iddo s ? The world 
 would call this letter a forgery, as even I declared it 
 half an hour ago. If I drag Iddo before the tri-
 
 146 Adnah 
 
 bunal, his words will cast me into a dungeon. 
 And though I slay him, what can my father do ? 
 Eight years he has declared himself a thief. Sup 
 pose he should say, After all I am innocent. The 
 great Pharisee, my brother is the thief. He would 
 be mocked as a liar, and reviled for seeking to cast 
 a blot upon his dead brother. There is no justice 
 for me, no help for him, save in my revenge. 
 Therefore let my revenge last long, ay, let it last till 
 there is not a drop of blood in this vile body that 
 can leap with the thrill of agony! " 
 
 Iddo uttered a terrible cry. 
 
 " Gothinus, you are my friend. You will reveal 
 to none that Iddo is my prisoner?" 
 
 " Your secret is safe with me." 
 
 "Iddo," said his nephew, "my father is a slave 
 in some palace in Jerusalem. Whose palace? and 
 does he still bear the name of Samuel ?" 
 
 "Adnah, Adnah 
 
 " Quick the truth will buy you a respite! " 
 
 " He is the slave of Caius Marcellus and he goes 
 by the name of of of Galba." 
 
 "Let us go," said Adnah to Gothinus; " I shall 
 leave Iddo here till Simon is liberated from the other 
 cave. I am very thirsty." 
 
 "Mercy, mercy, Adnah! Will you leave me 
 alone to die of starvation ?"
 
 Revenge 147 
 
 " I shall return, fear not! and I leave you in good 
 company." And pointing to the slave s head, he 
 departed, followed by Gothinus, deaf to the fren 
 zied supplications of the miserable prisoner. Wild 
 and well-nigh impassable were the heights about 
 the back entrance of the cave. Gothinus who 
 knew the way, led Adnah forth with the greatest 
 difficulty. There was no danger of any one seek 
 ing Iddo in these almost inaccessible cliffs. He was 
 entirely at the mercy of Adnah. The white counte 
 nance of the youth boded no good for his uncle, as 
 he proceeded silently among jagged rocks and wild 
 brambles. At last they left the worst part of the 
 way, and came to the place where Iddo s mule had 
 been fastened. As they proceeded, Adnah led the 
 beast, and told Gothinus about Simon s captivity. 
 
 The first thing to be done, was to liberate the 
 leper. Lucius the centurion would send men to dig 
 through the accumulation that buried the entrance 
 of the first cave. There was to be no secret about 
 the part Iddo and his slave had taken in the throw- 
 ing-down of the avalanche, nor of the imprison 
 ment of Adnah. Of course no one, at least, no 
 Jew, would believe the story. But Iddo and his 
 slave would be gone. Presently people would be 
 gin to suspect they had run away. At last their 
 guilt would appear manifest.
 
 148 Adnah 
 
 "And in the meantime, what of Iddo?" said 
 Gothinus. 
 
 "I have not yet decided. But I shall keep him 
 there for days, as 1 was kept in the cave, ever with 
 the fear of death, as I feared the dark abyss. Some 
 times I shall let him almost starve, or perish for 
 water; perhaps at last I shall cast him down into 
 the valley, as in his intention, he cast me down. 
 An eye for an eye, Gothinus!" 
 
 "You enjoy your revenge! " remarked Gothinus. 
 
 " It is all I have in the world," said Adnah. " My 
 soul is wedded to it." 
 
 " A ghastly bride," said the slave. 
 
 "Yet you, my friend, cannot blame me?" 
 
 "Who could? Only if it were my revenge, I 
 would have it quickly over, the sooner to enjoy my 
 victuals!" 
 
 Adnah went to the centurion with Gothinus, and 
 told him how he and the leper had been entombed 
 by Iddo, and how Gothinus had found him and led 
 him to freedom, not mentioning the second chap 
 ter of Iddo s story. The Roman, who had a great 
 love for his slave, agreed to send some workmen to 
 clear away the avalanche. 
 
 Adnah sighed with relief. "I feared, O centur 
 ion," he said, "that my words would not find be 
 lief."
 
 Revenge 149 
 
 "To be frank," said the Roman, "this much I 
 believe; that as you and the leper lay in the cave, 
 the avalanche fell; and that you had run away from 
 home to the cave, not knowing the leper was 
 within. As to Iddo and his slave picking up a 
 mountain of stone and earth, and laying it against 
 the mouth of the cave, that is manifestly false. 
 Had Iddo done such a thing, Hercules must by this 
 time have melted in his own hot blushes! " 
 
 "Yet, my master," said Gothinus, "you know 
 how easily a mighty avalanche is started." 
 
 "And I know this even better," said Lucius; 
 "that when you hate a man, you make him the 
 villain of your romance. Enough. The avalanche 
 shall be cleared away. As to Iddo, I shall not mo 
 lest him." 
 
 "It is well," said Adnah gloomily. "But be 
 hold, here is his mule we found upon the road. 
 Take him for I shall never return to Iddo s home." 
 
 "I know not how you came by the beast," said 
 Lucius. "That proves nothing. But leave him 
 not here. Is my garrison a stable for the stray 
 mules of Pharisees?" Adnah turned the beast 
 loose. A deep draught from a spring that he had 
 encountered among the stones had given him 
 strength. He went with the few slaves who were 
 sent to dig before the cave. Indeed no men were
 
 1 50 Adnah 
 
 found who would go willingly, since none wished 
 to defile himself by approaching so near a leper. 
 A work of many days lay before the three work 
 men who had been forced to go, and these days 
 promised to become weeks, since the laborers 
 talked a great deal, and rested, to do so with more 
 ease. Lucius needed Gothinus, and Adnah alone 
 was present to oversee the work. Although 
 Lucius had given him this position, which earned 
 him a shelter and food, he was so young and 
 ragged that the slaves paid no heed to his com 
 mands. There was one comfort; Simon would hear 
 the digging, and know help was drawing near. 
 The leper had enough food to keep him alive, even 
 at this tedious rate, since he had kept all the wine, 
 and much flour. But the stubborn perverseness of 
 the diggers fretted Adnah without ceasing, and 
 kept him in a continual state of nervous excite 
 ment. 
 
 Nor did he forget Iddo. How well he grew to 
 know the way among the rocks! Almost every 
 night he found his way to the high second cave, 
 there to taunt and mercilessly punish his captive. 
 Had he not eight years to avenge, and not only 
 his own wrongs, and those of Simon, but the suffer 
 ings of his father ? And terrible, indeed, was the 
 punishment of Iddo, with that ghastly dissevered
 
 Revenge 151 
 
 head of his slave ever grinning at him, when day 
 light shone through the opening! 
 
 What had become of Iddo ? was the question 
 asked by the outside world. Impossible that 
 Adnah s story could contain a grain of truth! but 
 if Iddo had gone to Jerusalem as Hodesh asserted, 
 why had she been left without a farewell ? Of 
 course, it was not the duty of a well-regulated 
 Pharisee to tell his wife when, or whither, he was 
 going. Still, it was strange. The mule had ambled 
 back to his home with the dignified, serious mien 
 assumed only by mules who design mischief, or 
 know of mischief designed. Where was Iddo ? 
 Where was his slave ? Why did they not come 
 home and chastise Adnah for the tale he had spread 
 broadcast ? 
 
 "Come, Adnah," Gothinus said, one morning 
 appearing where the workmen toiled intermittently 
 between their more serious occupation of conversa 
 tion. "Soon your friend the leper will be 
 free. The master has given me this day, and I 
 would have you walk with me, and ease your 
 mind." 
 
 "You are kind," said Adnah, who never suc 
 ceeded in shaking off his gloomy mood. Then 
 raising his voice he shouted, "Simon!" 
 
 Faintly came back the cry, "Adnah!"
 
 152 Adnah 
 
 "He hears, he hears!" cried Adnah, and tears 
 came to his eyes. 
 
 " Ah," said Gothinus, " you said revenge was all 
 there was left for you. But was it not worth 
 while to live, to hear the call of a friend ?" 
 
 " It was well worth while," responded the other 
 with a tremulous smile. 
 
 "So I would persuade you that there are many 
 things in the world to woo you to a love of life. 
 Let us walk hence. There is the sunshine, the 
 flowers; and yonder the blue sea; and there are 
 ever thoughts of good women and brave soldiers, 
 are not these enough ? Adnah, kill this Iddo to 
 night, and have done with him! " 
 
 Adnah put his hand to his heart. " Here is my 
 father s letter," he said. " It cries for revenge, and 
 ever more revenge! " 
 
 "Revenge!" echoed Gothinus. "A slow re 
 venge is a slow death to him who seeks it. In 
 these days past, you have been dead to smiles and 
 happiness, dead to comforts and interests. All of 
 you might as well have been buried deep in some 
 grave, except that part of you which is kin to the 
 wolf, to the wild beasts! " 
 
 "What say you?" cried Adnah angrily. "The 
 wild beasts ? Speak not thus to one who seeks 
 revenge as his honor, and his duty! Think
 
 Revenge 153 
 
 you it is a pleasure to torment Iddo? It is no 
 pleasure." 
 
 "Well, well, Adnah, let us talk of other things. 
 But I wonder whither go this multitude ?" 
 
 "I wonder also. Behold, they take the direction 
 of the mountain." 
 
 "It must be," said the slave, " that they follow 
 Jesus of Nazareth; for no multitude is so great as 
 that which follows in His footsteps." 
 
 "Jesus? Where have I heard that name ? For 
 it is like no other. Ah, it was Miriam who told me; 
 He it was turned water into wine." 
 
 "I know nothing of that, Adnah. But sure it is, 
 He raised Miriam s brother from his deathbed, 
 while over twenty miles away, such was His 
 magic! After that, He came here to Capernaum to 
 live. He has selected four of our fishermen to be 
 His disciples, whom formerly He had taken to 
 Jerusalem with Him. Peter and Andrew, are two; 
 and John and James, brothers. I will tell you how 
 I know so much of Him." 
 
 "Do so; and in the meantime, let us go with the 
 throng." 
 
 "This carpenter is hated of the learned Rabbis," 
 said Gothinus. "Therefore Iddo despises him. I 
 have lately been tracking Iddo, hoping thus to learn 
 your whereabouts, or fate. Once I followed Iddo
 
 1 54 Adnah 
 
 to Nazareth. Jesus had been preaching in the 
 synagogue. His doctrine did not please the Phari 
 sees. Iddo and others stirred up a mighty tumult. 
 And they seized the Preacher, and dragged Him to 
 the brow of a dizzy cliff, meaning to cast Him 
 down, as Iddo would have cast you." 
 
 "And how did he escape?" 
 
 "I know not. Escape He did, from their very 
 midst. Perhaps in the same way that He heals 
 people. The mother of Peter s wife He has healed 
 of a terrible fever. He has cast out a devil. He 
 has made a man stricken with the palsy, walk. 
 And a great number He has made well, who had all 
 manner of diseases. So you see He is as great a 
 physician as He is a preacher, or carpenter. But, 
 shall we go up this mountain ?" 
 
 "Yes, with the others. How we are jostled! 
 The people seem in a strange hurry." 
 
 " Yonder He is! " cried Gothinus. " Those about 
 Him are His disciples. They sit, Jesus is about to 
 speak." 
 
 "He looks like no man that ever I saw," said 
 Adnah, as the vast concourse seated themselves, 
 he and Gothinus with the rest. " Do but see His 
 eyes! I believe a man with those eyes could do 
 wonderful things!" 
 
 "Hush!" said Gothinus; "He speaks."
 
 Revenge 155 
 
 Over the vast audience floated the words as sweet 
 and clear as the music of silver bells; " Blessed are 
 the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of 
 heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they 
 shall be comforted."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ALONE WITH HIS ENEMY 
 
 IT was night. Adnah made his way among the 
 giant rocks that lay strewn upon the heights of 
 Arbela. The moon shone brightly over the wild 
 scene. The young man reached the back entrance 
 of the second cave, and entered with slow steps. 
 He was greeted by a low wail from his prisoner. 
 Iddo remained in the same position in which he had 
 first been bound. Adnah lighted his lamp. 
 
 The ghastly head of the slave lay upon the floor, 
 unspeakably repulsive. The Pharisee was white 
 and emaciated. A burning thirst shone in his eyes. 
 Adnah carried a leathern bottle containing water. 
 
 "Adnah, Adnah," groaned his enemy, "give me 
 to drink, and then let me die! " 
 
 The boy sank upon his knees beside the prostrate 
 form, and held the water to his dry lips. Iddo 
 drank. When the bottle was put aside, he said, 
 " You give me strength for a while, that you may 
 torture me more effectively. Is it not so ?" 
 
 Adnah took up the knife which had been lying 
 for days just beyond the reach of Iddo s hand. The 
 
 156
 
 Alone With His Enemy 157 
 
 Pharisee began to implore. "Save me, good 
 Adnah, do not kill me at once! Since I drank, oh, 
 how I long for life! With the water, I drank this 
 love deep into my being. Only for a few days 
 only till to-morrow! Do what you will except 
 that beat me, starve me, but let me live." 
 
 Adnah bent forward with the knife. 
 
 " I have been a very wicked man, Adnah, it is not 
 that I deserve mercy. But there is so much I would 
 do, there are so many to whom I would speak a 
 farewell! Oh, Adnah, I cannot die, all is so un 
 finished, so incomplete!" 
 
 Bending over the prisoner, Adnah began to cut 
 with his knife in silence. The blade severed the 
 rope in several places. Iddo felt the intolerable 
 agony of his bondage relax. He could move at 
 last. He stretched his hands and feet, luxuriating 
 in his new freedom. But his mental distress in 
 creased with his physical relief. What was about 
 to happen to him ? He watched Adnah as a beaten 
 dog watches its master. 
 
 " You may rise," said the youth. 
 
 Iddo remained upon the ground. " Adnah, 
 mercy, I beseech you! Adnah, remember that 
 your father loves me." 
 
 At those words Adnah buried his face in his 
 hands, and remained motionless. A struggle was
 
 1 58 Adnah 
 
 going on within him. Presently he repeated, 
 " You may rise." 
 
 "Good Adnah, strong and powerful Adnah, 
 what will you do to me?" Iddo rose, not daring 
 to refuse the permission. He stood unsteadily 
 upon his feet, before the strong youth. 
 
 "Iddo, you are free. Go!" 
 
 The Pharisee stared at him fixedly. " You know 
 I cannot escape you," he whined. "If I should 
 seek to run away, I should fall. Do you play with 
 me ? Well, since it is your will." He stumbled 
 towards the opening. He had not gone far when 
 Adnah in a whisper said, "Stop!" 
 
 Iddo stood motionless. 
 
 "There is something else," said Adnah raising 
 his voice unsteadily. " Yes, and this is the hardest 
 part. Iddo, I have been cruel to you." 
 
 "Adnah, child, what do you mean? You can 
 not intend that I am to go free ? You do not mean 
 that I am no longer your prisoner ? That I am to 
 live ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, have I not said so?" 
 
 Iddo fell before Adnah, and sought to kiss his 
 feet. The boy shrank back with a shudder. 
 "Touch me not, thou thief, thou merciless man! 
 Nay, Iddo, forgive me those words. But come no 
 nearer. It is enough that you are free. You want
 
 Alone With His Enemy 
 
 no more. But, oh, there is more that I must 
 do!" 
 
 Iddo remained upon his knees, looking at Adnah 
 as if he doubted his sanity. Adnah approached 
 him with a white face. Iddo crossed his hands 
 upon his breast, expecting new tortures. Adnah 
 laid his hand upon the feverish head. "O my 
 enemy, I bless you," he said. "May you be happy 
 and prosperous in life, and henceforth avoid evil, 
 and injustice, and cruelty. May the blessings of 
 God rest upon you, and clear your path before you, 
 and crown the memory of you with glory and 
 dignity." 
 
 Iddo s head sunk upon his breast. Adnah now 
 knelt beside the Pharisee and raised his eyes up 
 ward. "Our father who art in heaven, hallowed 
 be Thy name," he prayed. "Thy kingdom come. 
 Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. I pray 
 for Iddo, who has despitefully used me, and who 
 has persecuted me. 1 pray that Thou wilt forgive 
 him even as I forgive him, because I know my own 
 sins will be forgiven only as I forgive. So has 
 Thy Prophet spoken, and His words are true. The 
 sins of this man are many, but I pray that I may 
 not seek to judge of them lest I be judged. But 
 however great his wickedness has been, Thou art 
 God; Thou canst forgive. Therefore, I pray Thee,
 
 160 Adnah 
 
 take this shadow from him, and help him to be a 
 good man, and help me to love him, O God, help 
 me to love him as if he were my brother. Grant 
 that evil thoughts may not rise within me when I 
 think of him, but that ever and ever, when my 
 mind goes back to those days to remember my 
 wrongs, and my father s wrongs, and my enemy s 
 face rises before me grant that at the same time I 
 may remember the words and the face of Jesus of 
 Nazareth ! " 
 
 Adnah rose to his feet, and helped Iddo from the 
 ground. The Pharisee was sobbing. "There is 
 this more," said Adnah; " can you forgive me for 
 what I have done to you?" 
 
 "It is not for you to ask my pardon," returned 
 Iddo. "It is for me, upon the ground, to implore 
 you to forgive my wickedness." 
 
 "Iddo, you are forgiven, as freely as if you had 
 never done wrong! " Adnah put his hand upon the 
 man s shoulder, and bending forward, kissed him. 
 
 When Iddo s voice was more sure, he said, "I 
 will go up to Jerusalem at once. I will seek Pilate, 
 and tell him the truth. Your father shall be free 
 once more. In his place, I will bear captivity with 
 out a murmur. This little I can do, to repair the 
 past. This little I will do for the goodness you 
 have shown. Life seems all changed since an
 
 Alone With His Enemy 161 
 
 enemy has blessed me! Strange that I owe my life 
 and your kindness to Jesus, Him whom I sought to 
 kill in Nazareth!" 
 
 "Ah, Iddo, how could you!" 
 
 "It was His doctrine I despised. Listening to 
 the sermon hardened my heart. But seeing it lived 
 out in a human life, has softened my soul. Fare 
 well, dear boy. Blessings be with you! " 
 
 "Nay," said Adnah, "I will help you through 
 the desert, for you are weak." 
 
 "This also!" cried Iddo, and he began to weep 
 again. Adnah put his arm about him, and the two 
 went forth into the moonlight. Adnah raised his 
 face, and there was a light upon it more dazzling 
 than that of the moon. 
 
 " Iddo," he whispered, " this is the happiest night 
 of my life! "
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE CENTURION S SLAVE 
 
 WHEN Iddo was safe in the narrow streets of 
 Capernaum, Adnah left him, and returned to the 
 first cave. The work of a few hours would liber 
 ate Simon the leper, and this last labor the work 
 men refused to do, because they feared a nearer 
 approach to the imprisoned man. Adnah could 
 have freed him some hours earlier, had he not been 
 engaged in a terrible struggle; this was a battle 
 against his desire for vengeance. After listening to 
 the Sermon on the Mount, he had left Gothinus to 
 lose himself in the vast throng. But it was as if he 
 walked alone. In his mind two thoughts fought 
 for supremacy; that of Iddo, that of Jesus. It was 
 as if the Friend of Man had placed his hand 
 upon Adnah s enemy. Jesus conquered. When 
 ever the remembrance of the Pharisee s villainy 
 threatened to become dominant, Adnah seemed to 
 hear these words repeated: "Love your enemies, 
 bless them that curse you, do good to them that 
 
 hate you, and pray for them who despitefully use 
 
 162
 
 The Centurion s Slave 163 
 
 you and persecute you; that you may be the chil 
 dren of your father who is in heaven." 
 
 Wonderful hour that heard these words spoken 
 in the world! Wonderful words, such as had 
 never before been spoken, the significance of which 
 had never entered the mind of man! Wonderful 
 words which still ring muffled in the unheeding 
 ears of mankind, their meaning lost, or veiled so 
 deeply, the light breaks not through; which yet 
 contain the power to revolutionize the world, and 
 make it new. And still man builds up innumerable 
 theories of happiness, upon the wrecks of former 
 theories, still he looks for a golden key to unlock a 
 golden future, blind to the path that has already 
 been pointed out, and to the key which has been 
 given. 
 
 It was nearly morning when Simon was liber 
 ated. Adnah s first impulse was to rush to him 
 with extended arms. But he remembered in time; 
 and as if divining his intention, the latter exclaimed 
 hastily, " Unclean! " Then he crept forth from the 
 cave. 
 
 "You have not suffered from hunger?" Adnah 
 asked. 
 
 "No, dear friend. Nay, come no closer. Ah, 
 how sweet smells the world! " 
 
 " Here is cool fresl, water," said Adnah. " How
 
 164 Adnah 
 
 my heart beats to see you free once more!" And 
 presently he had told his adventures, beginning 
 from the time he leaped across the abyss. 
 
 " I am glad it is still dark," said Simon. " I wish 
 you to leave me before it is day. Try to think of 
 me as if I were no leper. Adnah, never seek me 
 again; let the remembrance of me lie clean and 
 fresh in your memory. But what of Iddo?" 
 
 "This night I loosed him from his bonds and 
 turned him free." 
 
 " Ah ? But what did you first to him ? Lop off 
 an arm, or leg? Put out his eyes? You do not 
 deceive me by saying you turned him free! You 
 terrible one, I know you well." 
 
 " It is true I did something to him." 
 
 "Ha! What said I? Let us hear." 
 
 "I blessed him, I did good to him, I prayed for 
 him, and 1 sought to love him." 
 
 There was a brief silence, then Simon said, "You 
 do not speak as if you jested. It is rather as if you 
 had lost your mind, Adnah." 
 
 "I care not what I have lost. What I have 
 found, O Simon, is a peace that passes all under 
 standing. I heard Jesus speak to the multitude. 
 Yes, He spoke to them, but every word was for me, 
 for me, the outcast, the despised. When He spoke 
 of love, it was for me, whjn of an enemy, He
 
 The Centurion s Slave 165 
 
 meant Iddo; when He said Blessed are the merci 
 ful, yes those were His very words, He was 
 looking into my heart; when He said Blessed are 
 they who mourn, it was as if He had wiped away 
 my tears. When He taught us to pray to God 
 thus, Our father, He remembered that I had 
 been deprived of my own dear father; and when 
 He said it was wrong to require an eye for an eye, 
 He was reading my wicked purposes. It was all 
 for me, every word. Few, indeed, have been the 
 chances I have had to hear men expound their 
 doctrines. But on those few occasions, it was as if 
 the speakers said, Why are children fetched hither 
 to stare gaping at the moon ? These words be for 
 gray hairs! It was not so with Jesus. Though 
 untaught and young, I, as well as the aged, knew 
 His meaning." 
 
 " A strange pass indeed, if we are not to hate our 
 enemies," said Simon. "Whom then are we to 
 hate?" 
 
 "No man, I think, dear Simon." 
 
 "What, then, are we to do with this great ac 
 cumulation of hot passions and indignant heat that 
 surges in our natures, like volcanoes that seek a 
 crater?" demanded Simon. " You yourself know 
 that where we love one man, we hate ten." 
 
 "I have thought of that, Simon. Perhaps it is
 
 166 Adnah 
 
 this; hate the evil men do, and hate it so much 
 that there will be no hatred to spare for the doers 
 of the evil." 
 
 "These are curious theories," said Simon, "and 
 I confess they are better suited to the disposition of 
 my son Lazarus, than to mine. But beside these 
 fancies, let me place a fact, this; that Iddo will 
 surely put an end to you and your fancies at the 
 first merry chance! So beware of him! Now 
 leave me, for it begins to grow light. Farewell 
 forever, my friend. It has been sweet to know 
 you, and to have a little company once more, 
 though entombed in a cave. Beware of Iddo! 
 Leave me, now, my courage fails." 
 
 When the morning came, Adnah went to the 
 centurion s to bid Gothinus farewell, as he intended 
 to set forth for Jerusalem to seek his father. He 
 was dismayed to learn that Gothinus had been 
 suddenly smitten with paralysis. Lucius admitted 
 Adnah to the chamber, and these two watched be 
 side the pallid form, for the Roman dearly loved his 
 slave. It was strange how soon his robust health 
 had vanished. Shaken by the palsy, wracked by 
 agony, he lay a ghost of his former self. 
 
 When Adnah would have left, Lucius said, "Nay, 
 he loved you; stay and wait upon him, and this shall 
 be your home."
 
 The Centurion s Slave 167 
 
 Adnah remembered Jesus. At mention of His 
 name Lucius started up. " It is the only hope," he 
 said, "since the physician despairs." 
 
 In order to increase his hope, Adnah hurriedly re 
 lated how Jesus had healed Reuben. The centurion 
 sought out the elders, and sent them to the Naza- 
 rene. Although the centurion was a Gentile, the 
 Jews were ready to become his envoys, since 
 Lucius had built for them their synagogue, and had 
 ever shown a partiality to their religion. Lucius re 
 turned to Adnah in the sick-room. "The elders 
 have gone," he said. "Presently they will be at 
 the house." 
 
 He seated himself, but a shriek from Gothinus 
 caused him to spring up shuddering. After that 
 cry the slave lay still and white. " He is dying! " 
 Adnah wailed. " Is he not already dead ?" 
 
 "Nay, he breathes. Now they must be with 
 Jesus. But how can I bear this uncertainty! I will 
 go to meet Him, to plead with Him. Alas, Adnah, . 
 were I a Jew! I am not worthy to appear before a 
 prophet of that exalted race. Their God is the true 
 God, and all others are false. Ah, if I were a Jew, 
 how I could love that God, and this, His prophet! " 
 
 " Go to Him, my lord," cried Adnah. " I do not 
 believe He will turn away from you, although you 
 are a Roman."
 
 1 68 Adnah 
 
 "Do you not, Adnah? You are a Jew; you 
 should know. Will He hear me, think you ?" 
 
 " I know He will. Jesus will hear all who sor 
 row; yes, and He knows how to comfort them, 
 too." 
 
 " But what can I say to Him ? Yes, I will go, for 
 Gothinus is about to die; 1 can do this for him. I 
 will say to Jesus, Trouble not yourself to come to 
 my house, I am not worthy for you to enter under 
 my roof. Even as I have authority over my serv 
 ants, saying to one, Go, and he goes, even so 
 have you authority over fell diseases, and evil 
 thoughts and cruel despair. And I will say, Speak 
 but one word, it will be enough, my servant shall 
 recover. " 
 
 "He will hear you, O my lord; hasten for the 
 sake of Gothinus! " 
 
 Adnah was left beside the stricken slave, but 
 great was his hope. Gothinus presently opened his 
 eyes, and they fell upon Adnah. The slave smiled. 
 
 "I have had a pleasant dream," he said, lying still, 
 as if to keep it from slipping entirely away. "I 
 was in such a beautiful place, yet now, I cannot 
 remember if there were flowers, or birds. And 
 some one told me that in that place were no Goth- 
 ini, nor Jews, nor Romans; but all were brothers, 
 children of one father."
 
 The Centurion s Slave 169 
 
 "You are much better!" cried Adnah joy 
 ously. 
 
 "Better? Nay, I am well!" And when Lucius 
 returned, they met him at the door. The centurion 
 caught Gothinus in his arms and embraced him, 
 while his eyes glowed. 
 
 " What said Jesus ? " Adnah inquired. 
 
 Lucius answered in a tone that rang with exulta 
 tion. " He said He had not found such great faith 
 in all Israel! " 
 
 The next day Adnah set forth for Jerusalem, 
 seated upon a mule, the gift of Lucius. He was 
 alone, but his heart sang to bear him company. 
 For was he not to see once more his father ? Yes, 
 and he would plead for Iddo s release from volun 
 tary captivity. He had learned that Iddo had al 
 ready set out for the capital of Judea. Adnah did 
 not wish to overtake him, therefore he traveled 
 leisurely. The first night he put up at a quiet cara 
 vansary, and the next morning resumed his way 
 with a merry heart. 
 
 A man who had reached the open inn the night 
 before, set forth at the same time. He was a mid 
 dle-aged man, with a long, black beard, a broad 
 and open countenance, cheerful eyes, and a manner 
 of walking as if he would make all mankind his 
 friend. Adnah was so drawn towards him, that he
 
 170 Adnah 
 
 let his beast walk. " Go you far upon this road ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 "To Jerusalem," said the man with a smile, as if 
 there were so much sunshine in his heart, he did 
 not have to hoard it up. 
 
 "Why, so also go I thither," cried Adnah. 
 " Why cannot we go in company ? " 
 
 "Your wish is a jewel in the setting of my de 
 sire! " the pedestrian declared. 
 
 Adnah laughed. "Then do you first take turn 
 upon the mule!" and he sprang to the ground. 
 "Ride till I grow weary, and I promise you, that 
 will be a long time hence! It is a joy to walk in 
 the world, when happiness is at the end of the 
 way. But you would know my name; Adnah." 
 
 "Adnah ? Why, surely, I have heard of you! " 
 
 " Doubtless; for my story has gone abroad. And 
 you, what name do you bear ?" 
 
 "You once knew me," said the other with the 
 same sunny smile, "as Simon, the leper. But 
 since our parting, I have seen Jesus!"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GLADIATOR 
 
 JOEL hired a house in Jerusalem befitting his dig 
 nity. Reuben was accepted in the temple to do 
 simple service and learn by object-lessons the com 
 plex system of sacrifices and modes of worship. 
 He could not expect to be admitted into the Saddu- 
 cean priesthood, the vast majority of the priests 
 were Sadducees, and were held in light esteem by 
 the learned Rabbis, until he should become 
 twenty, how long that period of waiting seemed! 
 
 In the meanwhile Miriam was looking about her. 
 Anna made it a strict law that the girl must not go 
 alone into the streets; Joel added the clause that she 
 might venture forth in the company of old Zuph. 
 He, himself, sometimes went with her, for he knew 
 the city well, and in his company Miriam was 
 shown the temple, the pool of Bethesda, the palace 
 of Herod and all the wonders of Jerusalem. Beau 
 tiful and grand stood that temple perched upon its 
 lofty hill, from which Solomon and all his glory 
 had passed away. So many years the wise mon 
 arch had labored in the building of the former 
 
 171
 
 172 Adnah 
 
 temple, so many workmen had toiled and suffered 
 with its brick and mortar and in the hewing of its 
 cedar! But a few centuries had drifted their sands 
 across the world; monarch, workmen, bricks and 
 cedar lay buried, and the new temple of Herod 
 stood proudly overlooking Jerusalem, in its turn to 
 fall. Did these thoughts haunt Miriam ? 
 
 "Of what do you think, my daughter?" Joel 
 asked, seeing her looking up from the Tyropoean 
 Valley, to the crowning glory of Mount Moriah. 
 
 " I was thinking," said Miriam, "that in there is 
 Reuben." What to her was Solomon and the 
 passing of ages ? 
 
 And there was the magnificent bridge stretching 
 from Mount Moriah to Mount Zion, that holy 
 mount where once stood the palace of King 
 David. Gone now that palace, and in its place 
 the frowning castle where Pontius Pilate rules the 
 Jews with a Roman rod. Even the bridge that 
 hangs in mid air is not the one which knew the feet 
 of David and Bathsheba, the haughty step of Absa 
 lom, the passing of Joab with his soldiers. The 
 power of David, the empire he consolidated and be 
 queathed to a wise son, all are crumbled to ruins, 
 nothing left of him but a voice, a voice, indeed, 
 that can never die. But will not all this in its turn 
 pass away, this material majesty and beauty ?
 
 The Gladiator 173 
 
 After all, the most transcendent thing a man can do 
 is so to speak that, after his death, his voice rings 
 on, rings through the ages, rings true to the har 
 mony of eternal truth. 
 
 Well, my daughter,and now of what do you think ? 
 For your eyes seem to gaze upon great things! " 
 
 "It was that beggar under the arch of the bridge," 
 said Miriam; "see, he is blind!" 
 
 The next day Joel went up to the temple, and left 
 Miriam in the care of Zuph. "Whither shall we 
 go?" the old servant asked. 
 
 "To the bridge," said Miriam. The beggar was 
 at his place, for the arch was at the edge of the 
 road. The man, he was past thirty, sat upon 
 the ground, his back against the stone pillar. A 
 stout stick lay across his lap, and before him v/as 
 his cap, in which already lay a coin, a kind of 
 nest-egg, to show passers-by that the cap was a nest. 
 
 " Here is a coin for you," said the fresh voice of 
 Miriam. " And how are you, to-day?" 
 
 " I am blind," said the man. 
 
 " How, then, do you find your way hither? " 
 
 " My father or mother conducts me, and leads me 
 home." 
 
 " And is it always very dark to you ? " 
 
 "Dark? I have often heard the word. But I do 
 not understand what it means."
 
 174 Adnah 
 
 "If you don t know when it is dark, or when 
 light," said Miriam in wonder, "being blind is then 
 not so terrible a thing, after all! " 
 
 " Miriam," said Zuph, " let us pass on." 
 
 " I know this/ said the beggar, " that those who 
 are not blind can go where they please, without 
 beating a stick before them, and can handle fire 
 without being burnt, and can tell the time that is 
 called day. But a blind man can only beg." 
 
 " And you get tired sitting all alone, do you not ? " 
 inquired Miriam, " everybody passing and passing, 
 sounds of hoofs and feet and wheels, and shouts, 
 and music, and the soldiers marching, and you 
 seeing nothing! " 
 
 "My life is a weary one," said the man. " But 
 I must sit here, or at the temple gate, and beg, for 
 otherwise I would be a burden to my parents." 
 
 " Miriam," said Zuph, "what would your father 
 think? Or Reuben! Let us away! Is it for the 
 daughter of a nobleman to pause and converse with 
 blind beggars ? " 
 
 "Now, good Zuph, forget I am the daughter of 
 a nobleman, and remember I am but a girl with 
 more wonders in her mind than there are in Jeru 
 salem. Tell me your name, poor man." 
 * " It is Rinnah, Heaven bless you for your sym 
 pathy!"
 
 The Gladiator 175 
 
 "I have a thought, Rinnah. Would you like to 
 walk ? I am going to my home. If you follow 
 behind me, I will steer you clear of dangers. I have 
 already given you more money than you could get 
 in alms. And afterwards, Zuph shall bring you 
 back to this place again, and you will not be lost. 
 Now, Zuph, you will do it! Good Zuph, remember 
 when you cut your finger it was I who bound it 
 about with a clean fresh cloth! " 
 
 "If you did, it was for your sake I cut my finger," 
 said Zuph, " trying to make you a wooden ball to 
 play with, and served me right! What would a 
 girl do with a ball ? " 
 
 "Oh, Zuph! I like that ball all the better be 
 cause I am a girl. Come, follow, Rinnah, for when 
 Zuph scolds, he is about to consent." 
 
 "I am worried beyond my judgment!" ex 
 claimed Zuph. "To have a blind beggar trailing 
 behind us, as if we were a triumphant army, bring 
 ing home a captive! But Miriam, who is that ? He 
 comes this way. Surely 
 
 "It is Adnah! " cried Miriam. 
 
 " Why, so I thought," exclaimed Zuph, staring at 
 the one approaching who had not yet discovered 
 them. " He rides a goodly mule ! What think you, 
 Miriam ? he has spread abroad the story that Iddo, 
 the great Pharisee, did seek to entomb him in a cave
 
 176 Adnah 
 
 with Simon, the leper! And Iddo does not appear, 
 to contradict the story." 
 
 "Iddo?" repeated the blind beggar. " He gave 
 me alms yesterday; 1 heard him say he had just 
 come up to Jerusalem." 
 
 "If he gave you alms," said Zuph, "we know 
 well he had some one with him to see him do it! 
 But I wonder what will happen when he meets his 
 nephew and hears the tale he has told ?" 
 
 "Do you not believe Adnah s story ?" said Mir 
 iam. "Iddo must either confess the truth, or hide 
 with shame." 
 
 "I cannot imagine him doing either," said Zuph. 
 
 "What a hurry he is in!" exclaimed the girl. 
 " Oh, Zuph, I fear he will pass without seeing us." 
 
 "And what then ? " returned the old slave. 
 
 "Oh, call him, Zuph ! It would be a pity for him 
 to pass and never know friends were so near." 
 
 "Why, where are his friends?" inquired the 
 other somewhat sharply. " You have seen him but 
 once, and then only through a crack in the wall." 
 
 "Adnah!" cried Miriam. 
 
 He was almost abreast of the little group, but 
 his eyes had been fixed upon the distant road. 
 Now he started violently and turned his head. 
 
 "Oh, Miriam!" he cried, leaping to the ground as 
 soon as he could check the mule. He approached,
 
 The Gladiator 177 
 
 his face beaming. "Gothinus saved me, and he 
 told me it was you who sent him." 
 
 " We must not detain you," said the old man. 
 
 "I thought I would call you," said Miriam tim 
 idly; "I wanted you to know there were good 
 wishes for you here in the street." 
 
 " It was so like you, Miriam! You are not one 
 to let a friend pass without a kind word. And you 
 are my friend, Miriam!" 
 
 "Not so, not so!" cried Zuph. "Miriam can 
 have no friend who does not enter through the 
 door of her father s approval. If she sent Gothinus 
 to save your life, thank her and go your way, lad; 
 for if your path through the world runs east, hers 
 runs due west. Or, if yours runs west " 
 
 "Old man," cried Adnah, "would you rob me of 
 the only flower my life has known ? That is the 
 thought of Miriam, which has never faded from 
 want of care and nurture. Oh, Miriam, say you do 
 not despise me as all the world despises, because my 
 father is a slave. Say you do not shrink from me 
 even because he is thought to have been crucified 
 as a thief; tell me I may always think of you as my 
 friend." 
 
 Miriam caught his hand, which he had not dared 
 hold out to her, and clasped it a moment in both of 
 hers. "If the thought of me is a flower in your
 
 1 78 Adnah 
 
 life," she said, smiling upon him, " may it grow 
 and bloom there, always! " 
 
 "Although I am a blind beggar," spoke up Rin- 
 nah, "I can see when two fish are caught in the 
 same net." 
 
 "What does he mean?" asked Miriam, dropping 
 Adnah s hand. 
 
 "I mean two hearts," Rinnah explained. Miriam 
 blushed scarlet. 
 
 "You have heard what has befallen me," said 
 Adnah hastily, seeking to overcome her sudden 
 embarrassment. " But you have not heard the best. 
 Iddo has confessed that it was he who stole the 
 money, and my father assumed the guilt to spare 
 him. My father was not crucified, but is a slave in 
 the palace of Caius Marcellus. I go to him, that 
 is my errand, the only cause, I am sure, that could 
 ever have led me past you in the street, blind to 
 your presence. Oh, I shall soon see my father! 
 And Iddo, doubtless, has already gone to Pilate 
 with his true history. My father will soon be 
 free, free, Miriam ! Are you not glad for me ? " 
 
 " So glad! " said Miriam, with downcast eyes. 
 
 "Look up, friend Miriam," said Adnah gently. 
 "You do not mind the words of a blind beggar. 
 Look up and let me see my happiness in your eyes 
 before I go."
 
 The Gladiator 179 
 
 Miriam looked up an instant and met his gaze, 
 but the words of Rinnah came to her afresh. She 
 dropped her head, seeking to hide the surging color 
 over which she had no control. Tears came to her 
 eyes. "Come, Zuph!" she said hurriedly, "father 
 will wonder why I am gone so long. Good-bye, 
 Adnah; indeed I am glad for you. Hurry now, 
 Zuph!" 
 
 " The time for hurry was at the other end of this 
 meeting," grumbled old Zuph. " But come! " 
 
 Adnah in great distress mounted his mule, feeling, 
 with a sad sinking of the heart, that his absence 
 would relieve " friend Miriam." 
 
 Miriam and Zuph started homeward, the girl 
 walking rapidly, her head still downcast. Presently 
 she heard the voice of Rinnah; " No one has a care 
 for me. Take me back to the bridge, lady, do not 
 leave me in the road alone." 
 
 "I forgot you," said Miriam, running to his side. 
 "Here is my hand. But you were a wicked man 
 to say those words. And do not call me, Lady. 
 I am yet but a girl, so young, I do not understand 
 you when you speak as you spoke to Adnah." 
 
 "I thought you would like it," said Rinnah 
 simply. "I only meant to make you smile. I 
 thought you and the young man were lovers." 
 
 " But I am only a girl, a girl, Rinnah. Oh,
 
 180 Adnah 
 
 Rinnah! do not say such hateful words, or I will 
 lead you back to the bridge, and not take you to 
 my home, where 1 meant to give you so happy a 
 day." 
 
 "Forgive, forgive!" cried the beggar in distress. 
 " How could I know you would feel thus? You 
 are the first lady I ever knew who thought Love 
 a hateful word." 
 
 " But I am not a lady; it will be years and years 
 before I am grown; I do not mean to be a lady un 
 til I am old, 50 old! And now I am but a girl. 
 Zuph, tell him I am just a child, for remember, he 
 is blind." 
 
 " She is taller than I," said Zuph drily, " and she 
 is fifteen years old, and she stops young men in the 
 street who talk to her about her eyes. You can 
 make of that what you please. But I know this 
 very well; I shall take her no more about these 
 streets till we have come to an agreement touching 
 young men and blind beggars. As to her being a 
 flower in anybody s life, that is a piece with her be 
 ing called an angel. You can make of it what you 
 please. But as for me, I am an old man and have 
 my duty, which is to guard this lady, damsel or 
 girl, as you please 
 
 The old man stopped, not because his breath or 
 irritation had failed, but because he was startled by
 
 The Gladiator 181 
 
 an approaching tumult. The disordered sounds 
 drew nearer. 
 
 " Look, look! " cried Miriam, forgetting her tears. 
 "They come this way, what a multitude! Oh, 
 we shall be trampled underfoot! " 
 
 "Alas, alas!" cried the blind beggar, grasping 
 her hand more securely. 
 
 "And look the other way! " cried Zuph in terror. 
 "Roman soldiers, hurrying to meet the mob! 
 We shall be caught between the two forces." 
 
 Zuph had clearly foreseen what must happen. 
 From the direction of Miriam s home advanced a 
 fierce mob composed of Jews armed with staves 
 and knives; their faces were wild with the light of 
 patriotism, or fanaticism; from their throats burst 
 harsh cries, "Down with the tyrants of Rome! 
 Down with Pilate! Up, up, brave Judeans, fight 
 for your God and your liberty! Barabbas, Barabbas, 
 forever!" As they rushed along the road they 
 were joined by a few Jews, but others ran away as 
 if to escape the contagion of revolution. Irresolute 
 faces looked from doors along the way, to see what 
 would be the issue. 
 
 Behind Miriam and her companions came the 
 Roman soldiers in regular array, as if pushed for 
 ward by a single hand. The sides of the road 
 were hemmed in by high smooth stone walls that
 
 182 Adnah 
 
 ran under the bridge. Zuph groaned with despair; 
 there was no means of flight. At the head of the 
 mob was a man of towering stature, his face 
 lighted by the fire of enthusiasm. He was Bar- 
 abbas. 
 
 "How much longer, O countrymen," he cried, 
 "will you lie prostrate- with the Gentile foot upon 
 your neck? Remember Judas the Zealot! Re 
 member the Maccabeans! Remember the former 
 glory of Zion! Remember that these who approach 
 would keep us slaves forever! Remember the his 
 tory of our race and the bondage of our children, 
 and forward! " 
 
 The stone wall formed a concave deflexion on 
 either side of their course under the bridge. Zuph 
 hurried Miriam into one of these doubtful protec 
 tions, while Rinnah followed closely. Scarcely had 
 they secured this position when the soldiers swung 
 by, an organized unit, and just beyond the bridge 
 encountered the frenzied rush of the mob. The 
 first onslaught of the men under Barabbas was so 
 furious that it drove the Romans back under the 
 bridge. 
 
 "Out of my way! " cried a Roman soldier, falling 
 back with drawn sword. Zuph was thrown to the 
 ground. Miriam fell upon her knees and bent over 
 him for his protection. Thus kneeling, she looked
 
 The Gladiator 183 
 
 up piteously at the swaying throng. The air 
 rang with shouts, death-cries, and the clash of 
 arms. 
 
 "What have we here?" cried another soldier. 
 " Is this a place for women ? Oh, it is only a Jew 
 ess! " Back and forth trampled the mailed soldiery, 
 while their huge shields clanged. 
 
 Barabbas ! Liberty ! " cried the Jews. 
 
 "Now, soldiers," came the steady voice of the 
 centurion; "once more!" A stream of blood 
 slowly moved its sluggish way across the road to 
 wards where Miriam crouched. 
 
 " Another sword! " said a voice. " I broke mine 
 on a Galilean s skull! " 
 
 Another laughed. "Tough heads, these Zealots! 
 See this blind beggar! These wretches would come 
 for alms to a crucifixion! " 
 
 "Here, beggar, take my sword and help us 
 fight," said the first, thrusting his broken weapon 
 into Rinnah s helpless hand. 
 
 The Jews renewed their desperate charge. 
 
 "Now, soldiers," came the steady voice of their 
 officer, " remember you are Romans! " 
 
 "Death seize you!" hissed a veteran, stumbling 
 over Miriam s foot. "Twice have I circled around 
 you and missed my enemy." He raised his voice; 
 " Where is Pilate s gladiator ? "
 
 184 Adnah 
 
 "Here!" answered a man of herculean appear 
 ance. 
 
 "Hither! This girl, old man and beggar, slay 
 them or carry them hence; they confuse the men." 
 
 As the gladiator hurried up he pushed aside a 
 soldier who stood in his way. 
 
 " Who jostles me ? " snarled the other. " By the 
 deified Augustus! if it is a Jew " 
 
 "It is a Jew," said the gladiator; " what then?" 
 
 "Oh, is it Sextus? It is nothing, then!" 
 
 Sextus reached the niche in the wall. "Here is 
 insolence! " he said, staring. " You three spoil the 
 sport. Will you have your heads lifted off ?" 
 
 " Have pity! " sobbed Miriam. 
 
 " Quick then, old man, climb upon my back. 
 Girl, catch your breath." He caught her up in his 
 powerful arms and carried her towards the rear, 
 crying, "Make way in the name of Pilate! I am 
 Sextus." 
 
 A great feeling of safety soothed the maiden in 
 those powerful arms. " The poor blind man! " she 
 murmured. 
 
 "Make way, make way! " shouted Sextus. " Let 
 the blind man die in his own darkness. Am I an 
 elephant to carry three at once? In Pilate s name! 
 Now! here we are, safe as may be." He placed 
 Miriam gently upon her feet and Zuph dropped be-
 
 The Gladiator 185 
 
 side her. "It is easy, you see. Now, say there is 
 no use in the world for a gladiator! And what is 
 this? Behold, the blind man. Lo! you cannot 
 kill a beggar. Victory, victory, the mob flees, 
 Barabbas escapes, ah, we shall have him, one 
 day!" The Romans swept on in pursuit of the 
 panic-stricken Jews. As the road under the bridge 
 was deserted, Rinnah was exposed to view stand 
 ing beside the wall, the broken sword in his hand. 
 "The last soldier!" shouted Sextus with a great 
 laugh; " he sticks to his post! " 
 
 Miriam ran to the beggar and took his hand. 
 "Here I am," she said, "did you think I would 
 leave you ? " Zuph had sunk upon the ground, his 
 strength exhausted. 
 
 Sextus stood beside Miriam. "I am waiting for 
 a kind word," he said with his genial smile. 
 
 "I owe you my life!" exclaimed Miriam. 
 " Come to my home, and father will reward you." 
 
 "Nay, girl, no one can reward me but you." 
 
 "lam but a simple maiden ; I own nothing of value. " 
 
 "Not so, maiden. There is a look in your eye 
 worth all your father s wealth. Let us sit here 
 under the bridge and talk until the old man is 
 rested, that is all I ask." 
 
 They sat in a row, the old slave, the blind beggar, 
 the gladiator, the maiden.
 
 1 86 Adnah 
 
 "What an assembly!" cried Sextus with his 
 boisterous laugh. " We all look as dirty as slaves, 
 and as happy as kings! Nay, never mind your 
 torn dress, you cannot go through a war unscathed. 
 What is your name, child?" 
 
 " Miriam." 
 
 "Miriam? Why, I like the sound; yes, it is a 
 good name, it will do to call by! And whence? 1 
 
 "Capernaum, Sextus." She called his name, it 
 was a sign she liked him, and he understood. 
 
 "Capernaum? What! Then, do you know 
 one, Iddo ?" 
 
 " He lives next door." 
 
 Sextus grew excited, while Zuph still panted, 
 showing no disposition to resume his journey. 
 "Next door, Miriam? In that case perhaps, yes, 
 
 surely, Poof! The dust has choked me. 
 
 There was there is a young man " 
 
 "Do you mean Adnah ?" asked Miriam, looking 
 brightly at the gladiator. Rinnah dropped the 
 broken sword, and a blush dyed the maiden s 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Perhaps I do," said Sextus. "Adnah, you say ? 
 I believe Adnah is what Iddo calls him. You must 
 have seen him, since he lives next door." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What a strange world! " cried Sextus, clasping
 
 The Gladiator 187 
 
 his hands nervously. " If I had cut off your head, 
 you would never have told me this! You have 
 seen him more than once?" 
 
 " Yes, Sextus." 
 
 " I think I have heard he is a very ugly youth, 
 a miserable pinched nose a stuttering voice 
 knocking knees leering eyes shambling feet 
 ay, Miriam ?" 
 
 "No," said Miriam, indignantly. 
 
 Sextus looked at her wonderingly. "What has 
 happened ? Your words have grown as short as if 
 I were a beggar. Surely you cannot dislike Adnah! 
 yet you will give me no word of comfort, though I 
 would hear all the good that might be said of him." 
 
 Miriam lifted her head with an effort and shook 
 back her hair while she answered with a flush, 
 "He is very handsome; and though slender, he is 
 as straight as a palm; and his voice is like music in 
 the Temple; and I like him as my dear friend; and 
 the thought of me is a flower in his life." 
 
 Old Zuph groaned deeply. 
 
 "Heaven bless you!" cried Sextus, and tears 
 rushed to his eyes. 
 
 " Surely you know Adnah, also!" cried Miriam, 
 forgetting her embarrassment at sight of the tears. 
 
 "I know Iddo," said Sextus hurriedly, "and he 
 has told me of his nephew of this Adnah who has
 
 l88 Adnah 
 
 been received into favor in King Herod s palace. I 
 love Iddo, and therefore I love the boy." 
 
 "But look! but look!" cried Miriam suddenly, 
 "yonder comes Adnah now ! " From their position 
 they could see the road at the point where it turned 
 to cross the bridge. Adnah was visible one 
 moment before the sound of his passing mule could 
 be heard overhead. Sextus covered his face with 
 his hands till the rider had crossed the bridge. Then 
 he rose hurriedly. 
 
 "Must you go?" asked Miriam regretfully. 
 
 "Yes," he said abstractedly, "yes, good-bye, 
 Miriam, good-bye. Duty calls me to the palace; 
 duty duty He hastened away. Zuph rose 
 
 stiffly. 
 
 " What a strange man ! " exclaimed Miriam, look 
 ing after the retreating form. 
 
 " Truly," said Zuph, " any man is strange who is 
 both Jew and gladiator! A singular combination! " 
 
 "But I like him," added Miriam gently. 
 
 " And truly, he loves Adnah ! " observed the blind 
 beggar thoughtfully. 
 
 "What said he of King Herod s palace?" mut 
 tered Zuph to himself.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 IDDO 
 
 THUS far Iddo has hovered dimly in the back 
 ground of past scenes, his presence rather felt than 
 descried. A villain is more endurable in the life of 
 which we form a part, than in the history of a life 
 whose leaves we turn, helpless to wound the man 
 there painted, with the shafts of our indignation. 
 But the time has come to look into Iddo s soul that 
 we may better understand the story of Adnah. We 
 have seen his shadow; let us scrutinize the man. 
 
 Given a few leaves from the childhood of a man, 
 one may write a history of his maturity. When 
 Iddo was a boy, he and his brother Samuel dwelt 
 with their father in Jerusalem. Their father was a 
 Rabbi, therefore a Pharisee, and saturated with all 
 the pride, and slave to all the rites, of his caste. 
 The boys never knew a mother s influence. Iddo 
 was the first-born, the pride of his father s heart, 
 and no pains were spared to perfect him in a 
 knowledge of the traditions and the law. But 
 Samuel, three years younger, showed a hostility to 
 
 learning. Having deprived himself by his own 
 
 189
 
 190 Adnah 
 
 choice of the only legitimate ambition a Pharisee 
 could entertain, the younger lacked a motive to hold 
 him to a steady course of life. Willingly he would 
 have renounced the privileges of his race, if he could 
 have become a soldier; but alas! a Roman is born, 
 not made, and a Jew is a Jew forever. 
 
 Finding time hanging heavily upon his hands, 
 Samuel sought to lighten its burden in his own free 
 way. He shunned the Temple and the schools and 
 mingled with great throngs, the common rabble so 
 despised by his father and brother. His father 
 looked upon Samuel as a disagreeable incident in a 
 life devoted to learning. Samuel regarded his father 
 as a rainy day when one desires to travel. But the 
 boys were closely knit together, as most dissimilar 
 characters may be, by a lonely childhood. 
 
 Samuel had two objects in life; the first, to find 
 amusement; the second, to enjoy the greatness of 
 his brother. And Iddo loved Samuel with a con 
 descending half-ashamed affection, as if he felt that 
 his love should have known better. They were 
 young men when the revolt of Judas, the Galilean, 
 struck at the Roman government. Their father held 
 secret meetings with Judas and at last carried his 
 sons to Galilee to aid in stirring up the Jews. Tak 
 ing advantage of the indignation which had been 
 aroused against the Roman Prefect, Quirinus, the
 
 Iddo 191 
 
 revolutionists embarked upon a. sea of war, to find 
 shipwreck against the legionaries of the Imperial 
 government. Judas and Iddo s father were slain. 
 Iddo, one of the wildest enthusiasts, succeeded in 
 hiding from the authorities the fact that he had 
 been engaged in battle. His protestations of inno 
 cence found credence because Samuel, who had 
 shown no sympathy with his countrymen, had 
 openly, and in defiance of the custom of his race, 
 married a Samaritan. 
 
 Iddo hugged his secret to his breast while his 
 friends and kindred were falling victims to the ruth 
 less vengeance of the Romans. When a spy, to 
 test him, met him one night with the watchword of 
 Judas, " No master but God! " Iddo retorted in his 
 sonorous voice, "And Tiberius! " 
 
 The spirit of revolt did not die with Judas the 
 Galilean. Presently a new leader arose who em 
 ployed secret methods. His name was Barabbas. 
 Iddo entered into communication with him, and 
 aided in weaving an intricate network of plots. 
 For years they worked in the dark ever with the 
 danger of crucifixion hanging over them; but the 
 fire of liberty in these hearts threw all dangers into 
 shadow. Iddo s life of scheming reacted upon his 
 character. He became secret in private life, the 
 generous traits of his disposition were consumed by
 
 192 Adnah 
 
 hidden fires. He was living two lives; one for the 
 observation of his neighbors, another, as he thought, 
 for the future glory of his race. Thus the falsehood 
 of his life, which he imagined devoted to religion 
 and patriotism, was built upon the foundation of 
 hypocrisy and deceit. 
 
 A nation cannot be rescued by love alone. There 
 are those who see both sides of a question in the 
 same light, until the gleam of gold throws one side 
 into darkness. Patriotism and enthusiasm must be 
 bought, but whence the money? Alas! the Rabbi 
 is not allowed to charge for his instruction; even 
 his daily wants are at the mercy of generous friends. 
 For it is the glory of a Pharisee to be always poor, 
 always great. It is the hated Sadducees who are 
 known for their material prosperity, their holding 
 of lucrative offices, their aspirations to the high 
 priesthood. Money must be had before the power 
 of Rome crushes forever the spirit of God s peculiar 
 people. 
 
 Whence shall this necessary money come ? From 
 that very iniquitous taxation which defies sacred 
 liberty. When one has a brother who is at the re 
 ceipt of custom, and who holds the money-bags, 
 may not means be found of sounding the capacity 
 of those money-bags ? Is not this money extorted 
 from righteous Jews by idolatrous Gentiles ? This
 
 Iddo 193 
 
 is not theft! It must be snatched from the Roman s 
 Publican, though one s own brother, and returned 
 to its rightful owners, Barabbas and his agents! 
 This does not make Barabbas a robber, but a 
 martyr. Thus Iddo blinded his eyes, called evil 
 deeds by fair names, and committed them with a 
 smiling conscience. And even if one s brother be 
 punished for the good cause, it will be no more 
 than his desert, when one remembers his baseness 
 in falling in love with a pretty face, and in marry 
 ing the owner of that face, her, a Samaritan, hated 
 of all true Jews! But perhaps Samuel will not be 
 suspected ! Then Iddo committed the crime, and 
 hoped for the best. 
 
 When Samuel found the money gone, the night 
 after he had shown Iddo its place of concealment, 
 he almost lost his mind because he dared not trust 
 its logic. White and terrible he sought the Phari 
 see, and in piteous broken tones, told how some 
 evil spirit had visited the treasury. But Iddo, in 
 sudden terror at sight of Samuel s agony, confessed 
 the truth. "But, oh, my brother, it is for the glory 
 of our poor people. Have mercy upon us, Samuel, 
 we are very near success! Liberty hovers over the 
 head of Barabbas. Soon he will reach forth his 
 hand, clutch her and perch her upon our standard. 
 Yonder come the soldiers, brother, quick promise
 
 194 Adnah 
 
 to deliver us! I ask this not for myself, but for my 
 race, for my God ! " 
 
 Samuel, with his simple heart, blinded by the 
 brotherly adoration which had sweetened his life 
 from the cradle, consented to bear the blame, if 
 Iddo would promise to treat Adnah as his own son, 
 and to rear him to be a great Rabbi. It was promised 
 with sincere tears; the soldiers came; Samuel van 
 ished from Capernaum. When Iddo gave his 
 promise, he meant to keep it; and during the first 
 days of Samuel s disgrace, he was tender with the 
 child; and when he felt tenderness no longer, still, 
 when others were present, Adnah could not detect 
 the change. We are ourselves only when we are 
 alone; Hamlet is not Hamlet when conscious of an 
 audience. When Iddo was alone, his conscience 
 whispered that he was a thief, that for his sake a 
 simple heart must suffer. As he realized deeper 
 and deeper the misguided heroism of Samuel, his 
 sentiments towards Adnah darkened from indiffer 
 ence to hatred. For Adnah s sake he had been 
 spared disgrace; therefore he hated the boy. This 
 hate became a monomania, the revenge his crime 
 played upon him. The sight of the pale face, 
 pale because of his cruelty, drove Iddo at length 
 to the attempt upon Adnah s life. 
 
 At last in that cave where the stolen money had
 
 Iddo 195 
 
 been hoarded and where other ill-gotten wealth had 
 accumulated, at last came Adnah with a blessing, 
 a prayer, a kiss. It was so wonderful, that revela 
 tion of love from an enemy, that living out of a 
 divine command, that every motive for hatred, 
 every reason for hiding his guilt, was swept from 
 Iddo s soul. To become great in Israel became a 
 thing pitiably small and weak, beside the kindness 
 of the youth he had loathed. When Adnah left 
 him, the Pharisee had but one object, reparation. 
 He put Hodesh aside bluntly; he was deaf to the 
 questions of his neighbors as he hurried from Ca 
 pernaum upon his swiftest mule. If he should die 
 before he had an opportunity to confess! Let him 
 but be spared to implore the pardon of his brother, 
 to take his place, and, if it must be, suffer death! 
 Adnah s prayer echoed day and night in his ears, 
 and as Jerusalem drew near, he thought heaven 
 drew nearer. 
 
 The course of a lifetime is seldom changed in a 
 moment. Even when melted by Adnah s kindness, 
 Iddo did not tell the truth concerning Samuel; he 
 was not known as Galba, his master was not Gains 
 Marcellus. Samuel, upon being dragged to the 
 Holy City, had escaped crucifixion to become a 
 gladiator of Pontius Pilate; and he was known as 
 Sextus.
 
 196 Adnah 
 
 When Iddo rode into Jerusalem, he did not re 
 pent of his repentance, but he feared the return and 
 mastery of his old self. The city was so full of 
 fond and proud memories! Yonder he had gone to 
 school seeking to build stairs of thought to great 
 ness. Here he had stood with Barabbas, making a 
 program of the destinies of nations. On that corner 
 his father had predicted for his boy great things, and 
 in that market-place he had prayed long prayers for 
 the delectation of the passers-by. Iddo turned his 
 bloodshot eyes from one familar object to another, 
 and everywhere was the sunshine to which he was 
 about to bid adieu, everywhere were faces he 
 would see no more. But Adnah had kissed him ! 
 And at last he was about to free himself of the 
 horror of his life, the thought of his terrible 
 wrong to Adnah s father. Giving himself no time 
 for reflection which might result in weakness, Iddo 
 hurried to the palace of Pontius Pilate, the castle 
 of the Asmoneans, which looked across the valley 
 upon the temple. Having traversed the open space 
 before the magnificent pile, riding along embowered 
 paths from which one caught glimpses of sparkling 
 canals and clear lakes, Iddo was halted at the huge 
 gates of the Praetorium. 
 
 "Stay, Jew!" said the gatekeeper supercili 
 ously.
 
 Iddo 197 
 
 "I must see the Procurator," faltered Iddo. 
 "The case is urgent." 
 
 " Are you not Iddo, the Pharisee, brother of Sextus, 
 the gladiator ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes quick, I must see Pilate!" 
 
 "The brother of Sextus is not admitted," said 
 the Roman stolidly. Iddo stared, breathless. This 
 was the first time he had been refused entrance. 
 
 "Not admitted ? But I must be admitted. There 
 is a matter concerning my brother which must be 
 made clear." 
 
 "Does a Jew say must to a Roman?" sneered 
 the gatekeeper. " I tell you, it will be the worse 
 for a Pharisee, if you are found here disputing my 
 commands! " 
 
 " But why but why, what has altered my com 
 ing and going ?" 
 
 "It is this, Iddo; after each of your visits, we 
 find Sextus as weak as a woman. Therefore 
 the sports of the arena are delayed, and we perish 
 of dulness in this accursed land of phylacteries and 
 money-sharks. Away, away, or you will be cooled 
 in our dungeons, O Iddo! " 
 
 Destiny had intervened to save him. Destiny or 
 God ? Was not this the finger of God, pointing 
 out to Iddo his true duty, to work for his race, to 
 give his life for his people ? What if he had sue-
 
 1 98 Adnah 
 
 ceeded in reaching Pilate with his story ? What if 
 he had been crucified and the gladiator liberated ? 
 That act of justice for the sake of one person was 
 nothing compared to what he might hope to accom 
 plish for tens of thousands. He felt he had been 
 swayed from the course of duty by a kiss; he must 
 be strong and put from him the thought of Adnah s 
 prayer and of Samuel s captivity. Now, when he 
 rode the street and felt the sunshine bathing his per 
 son, his heart leaped; it was his sunshine, his 
 world! The horror of crucifixion was gone; his 
 heart, freed from the cage of fear, soared to meet 
 the birds. 
 
 At a turning in the narrow street he met Barabbas. 
 The fierce enthusiasm of the revolutionist re 
 animated the fires in Iddo s breast. Liberty, 
 liberty, all things, whether justice, truth or virtue, 
 must become slaves to the idea of liberty ! As he 
 went home with Barabbas, he reflected upon his 
 future course. He decided nothing definitely re 
 garding Adnah; he knew his denial of Adnah s 
 story would find belief, if Gothinus could be 
 silenced. Simon, the leper, was not to be feared, 
 since his disease isolated him from the companion 
 ship and the confidences of men. No one would listen 
 to Adnah, the obscure one, when he should bring 
 grave charges against the holy and celebrated Iddo.
 
 Iddo 199 
 
 But Gothinus ? True, he was a slave and a Gentile; 
 but his master, Lucius would believe, and Lucius 
 was a great man in Galilee. The thought of 
 Gothinus tortured Iddo as he pretended to hear the 
 impassioned words of Barabbas. After all, it must 
 be a contest between the Pharisee and the Gothic 
 slave. Surely the Jews would espouse the cause of 
 Iddo. Thus Adnah s uncle entirely renounced the 
 thought of reparation, and while he did not feel that 
 loathing for Adnah which had brought its own 
 punishment during many years, he felt fear, even 
 terror; fear because Adnah who had blessed him, 
 must be overcome; terror because Adnah who had 
 prayed for him, must in some way be crushed; yes, 
 must be crushed, that the work for the uplifting of 
 the Jews might prosper. Iddo told himself that if 
 he alone could bear the consequences of Pilate s 
 anger, nothing could prevent his atonement. But 
 if he were torn from his position in Galilee a hun 
 dred schemes would fall to the ground; and since 
 for a greater cause he must preserve himself, his 
 heart bounded with self-exaltation because he could 
 call his self-preservation a sacrifice. 
 
 The next day Iddo, finding that Barabbas intended 
 to make open revolt in the city, slipped from the 
 conspirators lest he be brought into danger. His 
 nature was fitted for secret machinations, not for
 
 2oo Adnah 
 
 heroic daring. As he wandered afoot along familiar 
 ways, suddenly he saw a form ahead of him which 
 caused him instinctively to crouch in a low doorway. 
 It was Adnah, riding a mule. With cautious foot 
 steps Iddo followed, still without a definite course 
 of action shaped in his mind. 
 
 Adnah paused and accosted a stranger; Iddo heard 
 him inquire the way to the palace of Caius Mar- 
 cellus. He was seeking his father, thinking to find 
 him a slave, as Iddo had declared. The Pharisee 
 had given Caius Marcellus as Samuel s master, not 
 from any deep-laid plot, but because his nature had 
 forbidden him, even in the hour of apparent death, to 
 speak the truth. There was a Caius Marcellus, and 
 he possessed a palace; the name had flashed upon 
 the captive s mind, and he had spoken it. Now 
 Adnah would go thither, he would inquire, what 
 would happen when he learned that the slave 
 " Galba" was a fiction? Iddo continued to follow 
 silently. 
 
 " Ha, Iddo! afoot ! " exclaimed a voice; " where 
 is the mule you rode so gallantly yesterday ? " 
 
 "Hail, Joseph," said Iddo in a disturbed voice, 
 scarce glancing at his friend. 
 
 Joseph plucked his sleeve. "The reason I ask, 
 friend, just now I met a young man riding a mule 
 that looks like yours, see, yonder he goes. Now,
 
 Iddo 201 
 
 finding you afoot I fear there may be an evil 
 deed." 
 
 "It is Adnah!" exclaimed Iddo, staring after 
 the rider as if he had for the first time observed 
 him. 
 
 "Adnah? What! that nephew you so often 
 speak of, the wicked young man who despises 
 the law and the prophets, and who reviles you 
 openly ? How comes he in Jerusalem ? Why is he 
 here ?" 
 
 "Ah, why ?" murmured Iddo striking his breast 
 with his clenched hand. 
 
 "I understand, I understand!" said his zealous 
 friend; "but you shall not thus be hindered by 
 foolish sentiment. I will do this duty for you!" 
 Then raising his voice he shouted, "A thief! Stop 
 the young man. He has stolen his master s mule. 
 He has slipped from home and come to the city to 
 betray his masters secrets! " 
 
 While eager hands caught Adnah s bridle, other 
 Jews flocked about Iddo. "What! is it true? 
 Does he know aught of our plans, of Barabbas ?" 
 
 "I tell you he knows everything! " cried Joseph, 
 as Iddo hung his head. " But he is related to Iddo, 
 therefore this weakness." 
 
 "Related!" shouted several voices in fierce 
 wrath, " what is that, when you weigh our "
 
 2O2 Adnah 
 
 "Hush!" warned Joseph. "The soldiers are 
 corning." 
 
 " A thief, a thief! " cried the Jews, fear of ex 
 posure giving vehemence to their denunciation. 
 Adnah s mule had been forced about, and now he 
 was led towards Iddo. Adnah fastened his burning 
 eyes upon his uncle s face. 
 
 " What is this ? " demanded a soldier making his 
 way to Adnah s side, the same soldier who had 
 forced his broken sword into Rinnan s hand. 
 " Speak up, Pharisee; is this your mule ? And has 
 he stolen it ? " 
 
 Iddo raised his head and stared at the soldier with 
 glazed eyes; he spoke one word in a thick voice; 
 " Yes!" 
 
 "Oh, Iddo, Iddo!" cried Adnah in a sharp voice 
 of sudden wonder and misery. " Look, Iddo, this 
 is not your mule! It was loaned me by Lucius the 
 centurion." 
 
 "Shame, shame!" shouted Joseph. "Did we 
 not see Iddo riding that mule but yesterday ?" 
 
 " We saw, we saw! " testified the throng. 
 
 "Is it likely that a centurion lends mules to 
 Jews ? " sneered a warrior. 
 
 " Enough," said the merry soldier, bestriding the 
 animal in question; "more than enough, since two 
 witnesses, only, are required. Arrest the fellow,
 
 Iddo 203 
 
 comrades, and as for me, I will arrest the 
 mule! " 
 
 In consideration of Adnah s youth, he was spared 
 the death of the cross, and was sold to a Roman 
 nobleman. His master was Caius Marcellus.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 DESPAIR 
 
 CAIUS MARCELLUS had come to Jerusalem to escape 
 the dangers threatening the rich of the Imperial 
 City. The power of Sejanus was in its zenith, and 
 a word spoken against Tiberius was not safe in the 
 ear of a brother. But Marcellus found life in Judea 
 not worth the security it insured; his heart ever 
 pined for Italy and for the luxury without which a 
 Roman of the Empire found life tasteless. While 
 meditating a return to his native land, he was offered 
 for easy purchase a great estate in Sicily which 
 promised an extensive income. To manage such 
 an estate, at least 10,000 slaves were necessary, and 
 as Marcellus made preparations for departure, he 
 looked about him for strong arms and fleet limbs. 
 Adnah appeared desirable, and the overseer pur 
 chased the youth the day of his trial, which was the 
 day of the knight s departure from Jerusalem. 
 
 Adnah had not recovered from the shock of horror 
 at his uncle s base treachery, when he learned that 
 Marcellus had no slave known as "Galba," and had 
 
 never possessed such a one since coming to Judea. 
 204
 
 Despair 205 
 
 He sought to tell his story; he demanded that 
 Lucius the centurion be advised of his unjust cap 
 tivity; but he was silenced by the overseer who was 
 seeking slaves, not justice. On the way to Caesarea 
 he was fastened by the waist to a gang of slaves 
 who were driven forward under the singing of the 
 lash. At Cresarea they took ship for Sicily and 
 Adnah was thrown into vile quarters, where slaves 
 of many nationalities were huddled close for want 
 of room. 
 
 During the long voyage, not once did he see the 
 face of Marcellus. "As many enemies as slaves" 
 was the Roman saying, and Marcellus had no desire 
 to view his valuable enemies close at hand. The 
 name of the overseer was Scipio. He had risen 
 from the lowest depths of slavery by industry and 
 cunning. He retained the good-will of his master 
 by industry and cruelty. The fact that he had once 
 belonged to a gang of slaves did not soften his 
 heart towards those under him. Adnah left his 
 country a prey to dull, sullen anger. When he re 
 membered how Iddo had lain in his power yet had 
 been spared, had been blessed and prayed for, had 
 been kissed and aided to walk from his prison-cave, 
 then recalled the day of the arrest and Iddo s 
 " Yes," it seemed to the young man that everything 
 in life was false except revenge. He could not
 
 206 Adnah 
 
 credit Iddo with those few faint efforts towards 
 virtue which had proved the Pharisee a man instead 
 of a monster. He believed his uncle had all the time 
 intended to consummate his ruin. In the cave Iddo 
 had given "Galba" as his brother s assumed name, 
 Marcellus as the master. He had hurried to Jeru 
 salem there to await his victim. He had gathered 
 his friends in the street, and had trained Joseph to 
 play his part. He had pretended shame and hesita 
 tion, had made a show of being unwilling to ac 
 cuse. At the trial he had hung his head, looking more 
 guilty than the prisoner. Ah, the hypocrite! Adnah 
 despised his uncle more for what he believed a pre 
 tense of grief than for the beatings of his childhood. 
 
 It was Scipio s policy that there should be no ties 
 of friendship between the slaves. Conversation 
 was forbidden, and in this enforced silence, Adnah 
 brooded over his wrongs, seeing no help, not even 
 the hope of revenge. Once when he would have 
 exchanged his story with a neighbor, Scipio discov 
 ered their low voices, and gave both a terrible flog 
 ging. Adnah endured the torture in silence, saying 
 in his heart, "This, also, I owe to Iddo!" 
 
 Many a time there came the thought of Miriam, 
 but it was as the thought of cool waters to a ship 
 wrecked sailor who perishes of thirst. He loved 
 her better than his life, how gladly he would have
 
 Despair 207 
 
 died for her! The sound of her voice had been the 
 music of his boyhood. Her face and form with 
 their varying lights, and her attitudes as she rested 
 upon the house-top in the cool of the day, had 
 formed the picture gallery of his life of dreams. 
 The three days when she had talked to him were 
 three golden lamps which at the touch of mem 
 ory had made the darkness of his sorrows disap 
 pear. Now all was changed, the music hushed, 
 the pictures dim, the lamps untrimmed. Never to 
 see her again, never! to toil as a slave till death 
 should follow upon exhaustion and abuse, without 
 again seeing Miriam ! "This, also, I owe to Iddo ! " 
 he reflected. 
 
 Like most of the great Sicilian estates, that of 
 Marcellus was stocked with sheep. Adnah became 
 a shepherd. The home of the master stood fifteen 
 miles from the sheepfold, where a thousand sheep 
 were shut up in the low brick ovile, during inclem 
 ent weather. Each shepherd was put in charge of 
 a hundred sheep, given a dog for a companion and 
 assistant, and sent forth to live as he might. If he 
 did not choose to sleep upon the ground, he must 
 build a hut; if he did not care to starve, he must 
 plant a garden, or turn brigand. In no case must 
 he draw near his master s residence; in no case 
 must he make friendships among his fellows, the
 
 208 Adnah 
 
 terrible servile wars were too recent in the memory 
 of Sicilians to risk another confederation. 
 
 Adnah s dog was a huge white animal which 
 Scipio had purchased from a distant estate. He and 
 Adnah were brought together, both strangers in the 
 midst of an unknown land. He called the dog, 
 "Friend." It pleased the lonely youth to give that 
 name even to a dog. "Friend " was one of those 
 ferocious creatures which from time immemorial 
 have helped guard the sheep of the Roman Cam- 
 pagna. Fierce as the wolves which continually 
 menace the flocks, the white breed is preferred to 
 distinguish the dogs from the voracious enemy. At 
 first the beast was kept muzzled, for he showed a 
 desire to rend all who approached. But presently 
 he learned that one from among the strangers 
 brought him meat and drink day after day. " You, 
 too, have been stolen from your home and carried a 
 slave into a far country," said Adnah. 
 
 The dog did not care for the meat, a terrible home 
 sickness gnawed at his vitals ; but the tone of Adnah s 
 voice stole his heart away, and when he heard that 
 voice calling "Friend!" the savage snarl vanished. 
 In the meantime Adnah ate the meat which the dog 
 refused. The first day that he reached forth his 
 hand to seize the neglected food, for he was faint 
 from fasting, the savage beast sprang upon him,
 
 Despair 209 
 
 throwing him to the ground, and wrenched at the 
 chain which held him back from the prostrate form. 
 But now it was different. As the young man slipped 
 under his ragged dress the portion that had been 
 left, the dog, tall and rigid, stood with an eye on 
 the alert for Scipio. 
 
 The overseer was usually present when the dogs 
 were fed, but when the meat had been thrown upon 
 the ground, he seldom lingered to see it devoured. 
 The Jew had found all appeals for food in vain. 
 "You starve?" sneered Scipio; "turn brigand, 
 then, and eat your fill!" 
 
 When he had taken forth his flock into the lonely 
 grazing-lands, he built a little fire and cooked the 
 meat while the dog sat watching him, wrinkling his 
 huge nose with satisfaction, and stirring the stump 
 of a tail which was too short to wag, it had been 
 docked to prevent hydrophobia. As time passed 
 by, the dog regained his former appetite, but still he 
 left part of his repast untouched for his master; 
 still he sat unmoved during the cooking, though the 
 moisture would trickle from his massive jowl. But 
 to others he became more dangerous, more untam 
 able. All day he kept an outlook for wolves while 
 the sheep straggled over the green, and Adnah, 
 seated in a shady nook, brooded upon his fate. 
 
 At evening when he had taken his flock to the
 
 2io Adnah 
 
 fold, Adnah s day s work was over. Then if it were 
 chilly he sought the hut built by his own hands on 
 his first arrival. It was fashioned of wattled reeds, 
 the long hollow stalks forming a cone. The room 
 was just wide enough to allow one to stretch at full 
 length, and only in the centre could one stand erect. 
 The bed was a pile of straw, the cover a mat made 
 of the skins of wolves. Here Adnah slept with his 
 dog curled beside him, and from the heap of straw 
 a ladder of dreams reached up into a heaven of love. 
 When it grew cold and frost whitened the earth, 
 and a wind moaned over the vast uplands, Adnah 
 and the dog lay close, one dreaming of Miriam, the 
 other of wolves. 
 
 In the first spring Adnah planted a garden, the 
 seeds generously furnished by the milieus. As he 
 watched the springing up of the vegetables, and 
 saw them coming to maturity, he felt his passion 
 against Iddo dying away, and once more he could 
 see the face of Jesus and hear His gentle voice. He 
 worked hard, urged not so much by necessity as by 
 love. His garden became a friend, and its chang 
 ing face furnished a never-failing source of interest. 
 He thought that page of nature never read the 
 same on different days. It was a garden too valu 
 able for a slave to possess, Adnah had overshot the 
 mark, and Scipio quietly waited without a hint of
 
 Despair 21 1 
 
 what was to happen. Turnips, carrots, onions, as 
 paragus, cucumbers, cabbage, lettuce, beans, peas, 
 melons, all these he had in generous profusion, 
 and he saw the day approaching when he need not 
 live upon the dog s rejected meat. 
 
 But the day did not come. The overseer took 
 from him his garden when it was beginning to 
 ripen, and sent him into a remote pasture-land with 
 a new flock. Here, in bitterness of spirit, he built 
 another hut, and all his spare time was needed 
 in clearing the land of thorny brambles so danger 
 ous to newly-sheared sheep, and in watching for 
 snakes which were numerous. So, since coming 
 into captivity, he had lost one friend, his garden; 
 he had but one left, his dog. At night as he lay 
 upon his straw, bright dreams ceased to visit him; 
 revenge sang the only song his ears could under 
 stand. 
 
 A change came over him during the course of the 
 next year. He ceased to feel any emotion keenly; 
 even his hate was dulled. He sank into that lethargy 
 which distinguished the lives of his fellows. The 
 lonely watch by day, the rude hut by night, the 
 isolation which prevented his hearing any voice but 
 that of the cruel overseer, all this helped to rob his 
 nature of its graces. He became more and more 
 like his dog. He ceased to speak to himself, he sel-
 
 2 1 2 Adnah 
 
 dom patted his companion. During the rainy 
 season his hut leaked, his bed became sodden. He 
 gave up the care of his person, and there was noth 
 ing in his dress or mien to differentiate him from 
 the rude shepherds of his master. His life began to 
 tell upon his health. A hacking cough announced 
 his approach; his sleep became broken. He had 
 long ago learned the nutritious herbs that were to 
 be found near the base of the mountains, and the 
 skill that devises traps without tools for the ensnar 
 ing of birds and wild beasts. Thus he was some 
 times able to invite " Friend" to his own table; and 
 when his trap was empty, and the herbs had lost 
 their succulence, he found "Friend" a hospitable 
 host. 
 
 A change came when Scipio, one day, discovered 
 the dog s meat hidden in Adnah s clothes. " Aho! " 
 cried the overseer with a furious grin, "it is thus 
 you are enabled to live, stealing from the dog when 
 a dog is worth two slaves. It is thus you subsist 
 without your garden, yet never become a brigand. 
 Strip yourself, fellow, that I may write upon your 
 skin a lesson to be learned at your leisure! " 
 
 Adnah gave one despairing glance at the brutal 
 face, at the powerful bared arm, at the long coiling 
 whip. His cough came upon him and his form 
 was racked.
 
 Despair 213 
 
 "Quick quick!" shouted Scipio. "Do you 
 think to soften me by such frauds ? The bare skin 
 instantly, or this blade will be driven through your 
 heart! " 
 
 Adnah realized his helplessness, his small value, 
 since slaves could be bought at prices directly 
 controlled by the enormous quantities upon the 
 market, and his uncertain hold upon life, since 
 masters had a right to kill their slaves when and in 
 whatever manner they desired. He slipped his 
 rude garment from him and stood naked before the 
 lash. The overseer flung back the whip to bring it 
 down with all his force upon the statuesque form. 
 
 Then "Friend" stepped between, and showed 
 his teeth while his huge breast quivered with sub 
 terranean growls. "So be it! " said Scipio, drop 
 ping the whip, "then starve together! " But the 
 overseer knew Adnah would not let the dog die of 
 starvation; he believed the young man would now 
 be forced to subsist by robbery. 
 
 It was thus the shepherds of great estates were 
 expected to procure their living. The homes of the 
 peasants were usually at their mercy, and if they 
 attacked travelers on the highroad, there was no 
 redress to the outraged, on account of the power of 
 the patricians, and the laxity of the law. For this 
 one cause of banding together to extort wealth
 
 214 Adnah 
 
 from defenseless travelers, the slaves were allowed 
 to hold meetings and enjoy brief social intercourse. 
 A magister operae was always present to see that 
 the conference did not deflect from its avowed pur 
 pose, and become the nucleus of a rebellion against 
 authority. Thus far Adnah, with a horror of rob 
 bery and violence in common with his race, had 
 held aloof from such marauding expeditions. For 
 himself, he preferred starvation to the crime of 
 thieving, more ignoble and despised than that of 
 murder. But the dog ? Adnah could subsist upon 
 berries, herbs and the few wild creatures that were 
 entangled in his nets. But "Friend" scorned 
 berries and herbs. The few wolves that fell 
 victims to his powerful teeth were rare incidents in 
 his life. Adnah s game reminded him of the de 
 lights of living rather than furnished him with such 
 tangible delights. 
 
 "Friend" grew gaunt and thin, and, if possible, 
 more dangerous than before. Three years had 
 passed since he and his master became acquainted. 
 No one who had known Adnah, the youth, could have 
 recognized Adnah, the man. He was tall and thin, 
 his complexion swarthy, his hair unkempt, his face 
 bearded, his brow heavy. He wore a dress of 
 goatskin, which reached his knees. His breast, 
 one shoulder, and his legs were bare. Upon his
 
 Despair 215 
 
 feet were wooden shoes, the villicus furnished 
 each slave with a pair every two years. He wore 
 no covering for his head. Every day except in the 
 rainy season, he might have been seen, his staff in 
 hand, going forth with his flock, attended by a 
 half-famished dog. In the midst of a deserted 
 landscape, he would sink beside a rock, or lie under 
 a tree, staring up at the sky, while " Friend" kept 
 guard. His eyes wore that dull, glazed look which 
 tells of utter surrender to misfortune. Never did 
 the thought of escape visit him. Sometimes when 
 he glared with loathing at the scene around, hating 
 the very trees, the very grass, the very sheep, he 
 fancied he saw his own grave here in the wilds of 
 Sicily. Here he would surely die and be buried. 
 When he thought of Miriam it was no longer with 
 pleasure, but as one who seeks to recall the name 
 of an old acquaintance. When he remembered 
 Iddo, the cause of all his misery, he felt no longer 
 the fierce blood leaping through his veins. Loved 
 one and enemy, both were growing dim memories. 
 Once it was borne upon him with a stinging pain 
 to which he had grown unaccustomed, that he was 
 losing the power to feel any emotion keenly, that 
 he was becoming a dull brute, unable to lift his 
 thoughts above shelter and food. The knowledge 
 smote upon him and he broke into bitter sobs,
 
 2 1 6 Adnah 
 
 heavy, dry sobs that presently died away because 
 he could not sustain the emotion of sorrow. 
 Fainter and fainter grew the pictures of the past; 
 stronger became the supreme importance of the 
 moment. In another respect Adnah had become 
 like the dog; both were starving. 
 
 "Friend," said Adnah, "let us wait one more 
 night, and if the traps are empty, perhaps we will 
 become brigands, after all." 
 
 The dog laid his massive head upon the naked 
 knee, and wrinkling back his forehead, looked up 
 into his master s haggard face. The night came, 
 but the traps were unsprung. 
 
 The next day Adnah said, "We will wait another 
 night, Friend. Courage!" 
 
 But the night brought no food. In the morning 
 when they were in the pastures, Adnah threw his 
 arm about the dog s neck and said, "It is no use, 
 Friend, I cannot become a brigand; we must die 
 before that. I cannot forget that I am a Jew; and 
 Friend, my father was not a thief; no, my father 
 was not a thief!" As he spoke the words he felt 
 the stirring of a passion that had smouldered all 
 these years, the thirst for vengeance. 
 
 The dog read the note of hopelessness. He slowly 
 turned away, and crept from his master. Adnah felt 
 that even the dog had deserted him. He lay with his
 
 Despair 217 
 
 face in his arms as if dead. An hour passed thus 
 unheeded, then the dog s tongue touched the back 
 of his hand. He started up. There stood the 
 famished dog over him, the great frame painfully 
 distinct from the shrinking of the skin. The dog s 
 mouth was bloody. Adnah started up, glancing 
 down at the same time. The back of his hand 
 which the hot tongue had touched was bloody, also. 
 
 "Friend! " cried Adnah in wonder. 
 
 The dog drooped his head, then crept away. He 
 looked back and whined for his master to follow, 
 then crouched close to the earth as if ashamed. 
 
 Adnah whispered with a white face, "Is he going 
 mad ? " 
 
 The dog looked back, then advanced slowly. 
 
 The young man seized his stout staff and followed. 
 He was conducted towards the forest that stretched 
 to the mountains. " Friend" led the way without 
 hesitation, but never with a sign of happiness. 
 They came to the traps and Adnah uttered a glad 
 cry; apparently some beast had been caught in the 
 snare. The dog crouched close to the ground, 
 quivering, casting furtive looks at his master. 
 Adnah drew nearer the dead animal. It was a 
 lamb, its throat bathed in fresh blood. The dog 
 had killed it while Adnah lay despairing, and had 
 dragged it all the way to the traps.
 
 218 Adnah 
 
 "Oh, Friend, Friend! " cried Adnah, falling upon 
 his knees beside the dog, "you have written your 
 own death in the lifeblood of this lamb." The tears 
 streamed down his face, for he knew that his only 
 friend must die. The dog still quivered upon the 
 earth, abject but heroic. 
 
 " But I will keep the secret," whispered Adnah, 
 "they will find out soon enough. You have killed 
 your first lamb, poor Friend; you have tasted the 
 blood of innocence; your course downward is 
 certain. Alas! is not every sheep counted each 
 night? What can I say for you, Friend?" His 
 tears rained down upon the crouching form. The 
 dog licked his hand. 
 
 Tortures of hunger for a time overcame his sor 
 row. He built a fire and roasted the meat, while 
 the dog returned to guard the flock. But the eyes 
 that watched the grazing animals were now as 
 fierce as were those same eyes when turned upon 
 any man but the master. Each sheep had become 
 to "Friend" a potential dinner. He realized that 
 some terrible punishment awaited him, since he had 
 by his voluntary act outraged a life of training. 
 But in the meantime he could eat, and his starving 
 master as well. When the meat was cooked, 
 Adnah crept to the edge of the forest and called the 
 dog cautiously. They ate ravenously but in guilty
 
 Despair 219 
 
 silence. Adnah hoped the cooked meat might pre 
 vent the dog from further depredations. Yet when 
 the overseer s magister operae should count the 
 flock, what then? Accuse the wolves of a suc 
 cessful attack ? In that, also was danger. The 
 villicus had more than once recently dropped the 
 remark that the dog was growing old, that before 
 long he must be killed to give place to a fresher 
 guard. This act would hasten the fate of Adnah s 
 friend. 
 
 That evening as Adnah drew near the ovile with 
 his flock, the huge dog swung before him in the path 
 and stopped, looking wistfully up into his master s 
 face. In spite of Adnah s barbarous garb and dis 
 heveled hair and neglected person, " Friend " thought 
 him the handsomest man in the world. Adnah 
 stopped, and laid his hand upon the great 
 head. The dog whined mournfully and licked 
 the hand, and then fawned upon the wooden 
 shoes. 
 
 "Come, Friend," said Adnah, starting on. But 
 "Friend" did not come. He stood motionless, 
 gazing after the young man with a subdued cry 
 dying in his throat. Adnah coaxed, then com 
 manded, but the dog remained like a statue. Then 
 the master returned and sank upon his knees beside 
 his faithful ally. " Is it good-bye, Friend ? " he mur-
 
 22O Adnah 
 
 mured, putting his face against the coarse hair, " Is 
 it good-bye ? " 
 
 The dog whined dismally and licked his hands 
 and knees. Adnah arose when he dared linger no 
 longer, and started towards the sheepfold, scarce 
 able to see his white charges for his tears. Once 
 he looked back. Far away across the horizon that 
 shut in the uplands, swung a long, gaunt form, 
 which, but for its white color, might have been 
 mistaken for a wolf. Thus Adnah parted from his 
 second friend. 
 
 When he turned the sheep over to the counting 
 of the magister operae, he discovered Scipio en 
 gaged in conversation with a stranger. 
 
 " Here he is, now," said Scipio. Adnah was ap 
 proached by the stranger, who regarded him critic 
 ally. 
 
 " He does not look strong," said the man. 
 
 " But his muscle is like steel," said Scipio. " His 
 endurance is wonderful. His thinness deceives 
 you." 
 
 " He has a fearful cough," the stranger objected. 
 
 "That is his fraud," said Scipio with an evil leer 
 at the Jew. "He has tried to move me with his 
 fraud, for he holds himself above his fellows; he 
 will not rob the curs that run our highroads! " 
 
 "You will sell me none other?"
 
 Despair 221 
 
 "Not I. Marcellus is buying slaves, not selling. 
 But this fellow does not fit into our life; he is an 
 eternal drawing-back upon the cord of my con 
 tent." 
 
 "Well, well," said the stranger, "after all, it is 
 numbers I seek rather than valor. No one can 
 withstand Sextus. Come, fellow, receive the 
 chains." 
 
 Adnah s heart leaped. Any change seemed de 
 sirable. "What has happened?" he ventured to 
 ask Scipio. 
 
 "What has happened, is your transfer to a new 
 master," said Scipio with a grim smile. " What 
 will happen is your death in Pilate s amphitheatre, 
 whither you are about to be carried! " 
 
 " Back to Judea!" shouted Adnah; this fact was 
 more important to his mind than the danger at 
 which the overseer hinted. 
 
 "Why, yes," said the stranger as he secured 
 Adnah s arms, "Pilate gives a game in honor of 
 Tiberius, and I am seeking many slaves to make 
 sport in the arena. I think, in spite of Scipio s 
 brave words for you, fellow, that Sextus the gladi 
 ator will make short work of this muscle, and this 
 endurance 1"
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 PURSUIT 
 
 REUBEN BEN JOEL was returning to Capernaum 
 after his consecration as a priest. As he drew near 
 the walled city, his eyes turned upon the sea of 
 Galilee, but they saw not the fishers boats that 
 were tacking towards the shore. A Friday evening 
 was drawing to a close; the Sabbath was about to 
 begin. The young man s gaze was fixed upon the 
 future which his ambitious fancy painted for his 
 feet. Already a priest, already a friend of Lucius 
 the centurion, already the recipient of honors from 
 Roman officials, the Sadducee saw himself walking 
 with ease to seats of greatness. The tendencies of 
 the youth had, with the passing of years, become 
 hardened into fixed traits of character. As a Sad 
 ducee wealth and glory were accessible, and being- 
 fettered by few of the traditions which made the 
 life of the Rabbi a monotonous round of ceremonial 
 observances, he exulted in the absence of weights 
 which might have checked his course. Everything 
 was to be devoted to obtaining this authority which 
 distinguished his class. And everything had yielded 
 to his wishes except 
 
 222
 
 Pursuit 223 
 
 A frown crossed his face as he drew nearer his 
 native city. It was very hard that the only definite 
 check to his career had come from his sister! What 
 would he not have done for her? What had he not 
 done, which an affectionate brother could do ? And 
 she had always pretended to love him; he had be 
 lieved in her love. But it had consisted in words, 
 words! Now that she could assist him by an 
 act, she shook her head. Yet what he asked was 
 not only for his advancement, but for her welfare, 
 and for the gratification of his parents. One of the 
 most influential members of the Sanhedrim, a Sad- 
 ducee who had it in his power to advance Reuben 
 to a higher step in the Jewish aristocracy, one who 
 was old and staid and faithful to the cold and 
 polished doctrines of his caste, one who was old 
 enough to be Miriam s father, had asked for her in 
 marriage. And she had refused! On Reuben s in 
 sisting, pleading, even commanding, she had wept, 
 she had fasted, she had paled day after day, but 
 she had refused; and still refused; and declared 
 passionately that she would never marry, never! 
 Her mother urged her, even for her brother s sake, 
 to take advantage of this wonderful opportunity. 
 But Joel would stroke his daughter s hair and say, 
 " It shall be as the child wishes." 
 " As the child wishes," a maiden, a sister whom
 
 224 Adnah 
 
 one naturally expects to do as she is told, from 
 whom one has a right to exact silent obedience and 
 unreasoning affection. The great Sadducee was 
 waiting for Miriam to come to her reason; but the 
 jeweled hand that stroked his flowing white beard 
 was becoming agitated; the cold, proud eyes that 
 met Reuben s gaze were growing less friendly than 
 their wont. The young priest read danger ahead, 
 unless Miriam could be taught her duty. Still, he 
 did not despair of working upon his sister s soft 
 nature; only, the loss of time irritated him, and 
 as he believed with all his heart, irritated him most 
 justly. 
 
 Why did the maiden object to this marriage 
 which any other damsel might count a crowning 
 glory ? Why does a maiden of a marrying age, 
 full of health and remarked for her beauty, declare 
 that she will never marry, never? It is not the 
 nature of a girl to see clear to the end of her life 
 and discover no shadow of a husband in her path. 
 Reuben was betrothed to the daughter of this very 
 white-bearded suitor, and yet a woman inclines 
 towards settled life long before a man! The Sad 
 ducee had been a widower five years; his daughter 
 was Miriam s age; what companions they might 
 become! 
 
 "It is either Gothinus or Adnah," mused the
 
 Pursuit 225 
 
 priest. "A maid s resolution never to marry, evi 
 dently springs from her inability to obtain the man 
 of her choice. Alas! that /, but newly come to 
 honor, should be hindered by a sister who has a 
 man of her choice. What! Is it for maidens to 
 have any choice until they are married ? Yet it 
 must be that Miriam loves! That will explain the 
 change that has come over her; what else can ex 
 plain it ? There is Gothinus, a heretic, a gentile, 
 and a barbarian; and there is Adnah, a thief and the 
 son of a thief, how the sin of the father is visited 
 upon the child! a slave, an abandoned wretch, 
 his uncle, the despised Pharisee, and worse than 
 
 all " 
 
 Reuben groaned aloud. At that moment from 
 the synagogue of Capernaum which Lucius the 
 centurion had built for the Jews, came the first 
 trumpet-blast announcing the advent of Sabbath. 
 The sun was setting. The laborers in the fields 
 ceased from a week of toil. By the time the third 
 blast had warned the inhabitants of the city to stay 
 all labor, the young man had reached the gate. 
 Here he found a matter of some excitement 
 going forward. Lucius, at the head of sol 
 diers from the garrison, was listening to the rapid 
 words of a courier. As Reuben came nearer, the 
 centurion called him in a friendly tone. Reuben,
 
 226 Adnah 
 
 always proud of recognition from a man of author 
 ity, drew rein and bowed profoundly. 
 
 "A runaway slave with an iron collar welded 
 around his neck! " called Lucius. "If you discover 
 such a one, report him, or better, capture!" 
 
 The soldiers began to scatter, to commence the 
 search of Capernaum. 
 
 "I am happy," said Reuben, "that a chance is 
 offered me of aiding you, O Lucius." 
 
 " I am sure he entered this gate," said the courier, 
 "and I do not think he could possibly have passed 
 through the others before my comrades were there 
 on guard." 
 
 "I go your way," said a young man, riding up 
 beside Reuben s mule. It was Gothinus, formerly 
 Lucius slave, but now a freedman. 
 
 " In truth ?" murmured Reuben coldly. 
 
 "The runaway is a young man," said Gothinus, 
 as if he had not noticed the unfriendly intonation, 
 "and his garment is made of the skin of wolves, 
 which hangs short upon his bare legs. His hair is 
 so wild and matted, it falls over his face, almost 
 hiding the eyes. Thus you may know him." 
 
 " Very well," said Reuben shortly. 
 
 Gothinus always thought of Reuben as the brother 
 of Miriam. He controlled himself. " The fellow 
 was a thief," he said mildly. "He is a desperate
 
 Pursuit 227 
 
 creature. As soon as the ship touched at Qesarea 
 he broke bonds and almost eluded the master. 
 Then an iron collar was welded about his neck, a 
 dog collar for a dog! And when they reached Jeru 
 salem he got free again, and has come all the way 
 hither, dodging through streets of cities, crouching 
 in caves of Samaria, a wonderful chase! a won 
 derful criminal! " 
 
 " Think you not," said Reuben, " we shall stand 
 a better chance of finding him, if we separate and 
 search in different streets ?" 
 
 " As you please, Reuben," quietly answered the 
 young man who had once saved his life. Gothinus 
 directed his horse towards Joel s home. 
 
 "Nay!" said Reuben quickly, "let me take that 
 road, and do you go in the opposite direction! " 
 
 Gothinus made no reply, but drew his horse aside 
 that the mule might pass. Then he took the way 
 the brother of Miriam had indicated. At the first 
 turning he came upon the runaway slave, advancing 
 stealthily. There could be no mistaking the 
 wretched attire, the ferocious mien, the swaying 
 locks. Both were taken by surprise, and the slave 
 uttered a low wail of desolate anguish. After his 
 terrible flight, his days and nights of acute suffering, 
 he saw the end. His strength was gone, and for 
 once his cunning had failed him.
 
 228 Adnah 
 
 Gothinus was the first to recover. He leaped 
 from his horse with drawn sword and rushed upon 
 the crouching form. 
 
 " Yield! " cried Gothinus. 
 
 The fugitive looked up through his shaggy hair. 
 
 " Reprieve, Gothinus! " he said hoarsely. " Give 
 me but half an hour. Give me but the space of 
 time for the killing of Iddo. Give me this time, dear 
 Gothinus! Let me go free for this deed. Nay, take 
 me to his house, keep guard over me if you please, 
 but let these hands find his throat! It is all I ask. 
 It is all I came for. After he is dead, what do I care 
 what can happen to me ? I am a wreck, the ruins 
 of a man. Gothinus, we were friends. Gothinus, 
 you saved me from falling to my death. Do not 
 snatch this life from me till I have had revenge. Oh, 
 my revenge! dear Gothinus, kind Gothinus, brave 
 friend, true man let me have my revenge and then 
 I will come to you." 
 
 "Adnah!" cried Gothinus. 
 
 " What does a little time matter to you, or to my 
 Roman master, or to Pilate and his gladiator ? 
 Half an hour, a few minutes! let me go to Iddo, 
 let me find him, let me hold him in these hands, let 
 me see the light die in his eyes. Gothinus! Gothi 
 nus! Look at me. See what I have become, it is 
 Iddo s work. Try to fancy what I have suffered.
 
 Pursuit 229 
 
 But no, you cannot. Yet you must try to imagine 
 it, no friend but a dog, three years! Then this 
 iron band about my neck; the amphitheatre in store 
 for me think of that, a Jew cast into the arena! 
 A Jew, a Jew to meet a Roman gladiator! You 
 cannot comprehend, you who are no Jew. Yet 
 try, try to see what I have endured! Now let me 
 go to Iddo. On my sacred word, my hope but 
 no, I have no hope; but by all that I hold dear I 
 swear but what do I hold dear? Nay, what can I 
 say ? I promise not to seek escape, only to find 
 Iddo!" 
 
 "Hush, Adnah, hush! You are wild, you will 
 make yourself heard. You will bring the soldiers 
 hither! " 
 
 " Do not thwart me, Gothinus, in my only desire. 
 What! it is you, it is Gothinus! you saved my 
 life. Give me my revenge! " 
 
 "But hear me, Adnah, hear me! " 
 
 "Then you will not give me this poor half hour? 
 Is this the end of all ? For this, was I born into the 
 world ?" 
 
 "Adnah!" cried Gothinus desperately, "I am 
 your friend, but you are mad with grief and suffer 
 ing. Hear me, Adnah! Do you think 
 
 "Then a curse upon you!" cried Adnah, his red 
 eyes glaring, "yes, on you, too, on you who were
 
 230 Adnah 
 
 kind to me! Do I think you would gratify the dying 
 wish of an outcast? No, no, you belong to the 
 world, and all the world conspires to crush me, 
 all, there is not one voice of love in all the world 
 for me! Come, do your work, I am unable either 
 to resist, or flee." He ceased his wild words as his 
 emaciated form shook with terrible coughing. 
 With uneasy glances, Gothinus watched the road 
 to be sure they were undiscovered. When Adnah s 
 paroxysm was over, he sank upon the ground, and 
 his head fell upon his breast. 
 
 Then Gothinus stooped, and brushed back the 
 unkempt hair from the outcast s forehead. At the 
 touch Adnah started, and his glittering, despairing 
 eyes were turned upward. Gothinus bent lower, 
 and kissed the Jew upon the brow. "There is a 
 voice of love for you in the world, Adnah," he 
 said softly; "are your ears so dull they have not 
 heard it calling ?" 
 
 Then Gothinus leaped upon his horse and dashed 
 down the street. At the corner he met a Roman 
 soldier. 
 
 "Do not come this way," said Gothinus. 
 
 "You have searched well?" inquired the other. 
 
 "Well," said Gothinus. Both rode forward and 
 presently met Reuben. Gothinus was surprised to 
 hear Miriam s brother call him.
 
 Pursuit 231 
 
 "Ho, Gothinus!" 
 
 He checked his horse. 
 
 "Did you hear," inquired Reuben approaching, 
 " the name of the runaway slave ? " 
 
 Gothinus did not reply, but his companion burst 
 into a laugh. "We do not know runaway slaves 
 by names, we soldiers! " he said insolently. 
 
 " I have been musing on what you told me," said 
 Reuben to Gothinus, ignoring, as a Jew must, 
 Roman impudence, "and I have been wondering if 
 that slave can be Adnah ? You say he is a thief; 
 you say he fled hither all the way from Jerusalem; 
 you say he is a young man and desperate. Surely 
 this is Adnah! and if I find him " 
 
 Reuben smiled.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 MIRIAM S VOICE 
 
 As soon as Adnah realized that he had been 
 granted a reprieve, his madness for revenge gave 
 him strength. He had laid bare his heart to 
 Gothinus in declaring that this was his only object 
 in life. As soon as he killed Iddo, he would give 
 himself up to the Romans. He realized the impos 
 sibility of finding his father, or of making any one 
 believe his word against that of the revered Phari 
 see. Samuel must live out his life of captivity, he 
 must suffer wherever he might be; his distress could 
 not equal that of his son. And Iddo, also, would 
 suffer, Iddo, the cause of these two ruined lives! 
 Adnah s encounter with Gothinus made him more 
 cautious. He lay in a deserted hovel until it was 
 dark, then stole to his uncle s house. 
 
 As the familiar place came in sight, all his desolate 
 childhood seemed to rise from the ground, urging 
 him to a desperate deed. And there stood Joel s 
 house, upon whose roof he had so often seen Miriam. 
 Miriam! Where was she now ? Whose wife had 
 
 she become? Ah, what matter? She must long 
 
 232
 
 Miriam s Voice 233 
 
 ago have forgotten him, after she had learned to 
 despise him as a thief. What matter, indeed! Yet 
 the thought of Miriam sent his blood like molten 
 iron through his veins. His eyes caught fire from 
 his fury. The thought of her was a burning-glass 
 upon the hate that smouldered in his heart. For 
 getting caution, he rushed upon Iddo s gate, he 
 tried to force it open. 
 
 Suddenly he desisted with a startled cry, which 
 was only half subdued. It was rapidly growing 
 too dark to distinguish objects, but his fingers had 
 found the edges of the gate sealed with wax. He 
 stared overhead and discerned a board nailed upon 
 the top of the gate. It was too dark to read its in 
 scription, and Adnah could not have read it, had the 
 sun been shining; but he knew its meaning. Iddo s 
 house had been confiscated by the Roman govern 
 ment. The sealed gate and the placard could mean 
 nothing else. The young man sank at the foot of the 
 gate, breathing convulsively. Iddo was gone! His 
 terrible flight through Samaria had been in vain, his 
 life of sorrow must remain unavenged. But what 
 could have happened ? Perhaps Iddo had been de 
 tected in his crime; perhaps Samuel had been 
 cleared. Could it be that Adnah s father was free, 
 seeking his son ? 
 
 Suddenly the outcast remembered a means of en-
 
 234 Adnah 
 
 trance. He slipped around to the rear of the court, 
 and felt carefully for certain holes which perforated 
 the wall of sun-dried bricks. Soon after, he had 
 climbed to the coping, and his descent into the 
 court was easy. At home again! Hornet A bit 
 ter smile crossed his face as he thought of his fail 
 ure to find Iddo and of his promise to return to 
 Gothinus. It might be that his uncle lay hiding in 
 the house. Adnah tried the doors. All were sealed. 
 He crept to the window of the little room where he 
 had slept; he wrenched it from its frame. 
 
 It was now intensely dark, for the sky was 
 clouded, and the moon was on the wane. Adnah 
 made his way from room to room with arms out 
 stretched. He found every apartment deserted; 
 nothing but bare floors, bare walls. The house 
 had been stripped by the soldiers. Gothinus must 
 have known of Iddo s absence when he granted the 
 slave a reprieve. His show of mercy had been a 
 mockery! But the kiss ? Adnah trembled. Every 
 room had been searched, and as he stood once 
 more in his old cell where he had so often crept 
 after a beating, where he had so many times felt 
 the acute pangs of hunger, his breath threatened to 
 fail him. He climbed out the window, and stag 
 gered to the margin of the fountain. 
 
 Sinking upon the pavement he bathed his face
 
 Miriam s Voice 235 
 
 and hands, and felt relief. There was nothing now 
 but surrender. Yet he hesitated to give himself up. 
 Here at last were a few hours of security. No one 
 would look for him in the confiscated house. Just 
 before dawn he would steal to the home of Lucius, 
 put himself into the hands of Gothinus, and 
 so, the end. But until then he had a wild yearn 
 ing to enjoy liberty, to feel himself free and at home. 
 He stared in the direction of Joel s home, which 
 scarce made a blur in the gloom. Could it be that 
 Miriam slept there? Could it be, after all, that 
 sometimes she gave him a thought of pity ? 
 
 He felt a strange thrill, it was like the shadow of 
 approaching happiness, when he realized that she 
 might be on the other side of that dear old stone 
 wall. The thought of her brought him to a miser 
 able sense of his degradation. Then it became an 
 actual pleasure to imagine that he could make him 
 self more worthy of the dream of his youth. " I 
 must be clean before I think of Miriam," he whis 
 pered. He laid aside his dress of wolves -skins, 
 and stepped into the pool. How long had it been 
 since he had taken such a bath ? He could not re 
 member. When he stood dripping upon the pave 
 ment, he felt younger, stronger, more innocent. 
 Alas! he had but the wolves -skins to clothe his 
 nakedness.
 
 236 Adnah 
 
 It was a balmy night, and the clouds shut in the 
 warmth for him, making the world a pleasant dress 
 ing-room. There was a stillness in the air, a solemn 
 hush, as if the earth lay asleep waiting for love to 
 come with its awakening kiss. And now as he sat 
 upon the bench, he could think of Miriam. He 
 was worthy. But he thought of her only as the girl 
 who had brought him food, who had blushed to 
 meet his eyes in the street of the Holy City. He 
 dared not think of her grown to maturity, for fear 
 the gates of another love stood between her and 
 his dream. 
 
 At last the house of Joel began to grow definite in 
 its outlines; the tardy moon had come to look upon 
 the wanderer. As it grew lighter, Adnah s heart 
 leaped. Surely there were forms resting upon the 
 house-top! He glided from the bench to seek a 
 corner where he would be in shadow. The moon 
 rose higher; three forms, and two of them were 
 women; were they not Miriam and her mother? 
 Adnah scarce dared breathe as he strained his eyes. 
 Soon it would be light enough to distinguish their 
 features. Soon he would see Miriam again! Soon 
 he would be gazing up at her from his obscure po 
 sition as he had so often gazed, years ago. But no, 
 the three forms arose, and passed down the stairs 
 that ran along the outside of the building. They
 
 Miriam s Voice 237 
 
 disappeared in Joel s court. The young man buried 
 his face in his hands and wept. The great tears 
 streamed over his emaciated fingers. When he 
 looked up again, the moonlight was shining bril 
 liantly upon the neighboring house-top, making 
 every outline vividly distinct. 
 
 " I hate you! " said Adnah, glaring at the moon. 
 
 The next moment his hand went to his heart; 
 there were footsteps in the adjacent court. 
 
 "Do not stay up for me, Zuph," said a voice. 
 Her voice Miriam s voice! Adnah struggled 
 upon his knees. He had grown as white as the 
 pale moonlight upon the stone wall. 
 
 " But your father and brother will not return till 
 day," said the old slave; "they will search for the 
 runaway till morning light. What care they for the 
 niceties of the Sabbath ? " 
 
 "I am not afraid, Zuph. I will walk here in the 
 dear moonlight, for I cannot sleep." 
 
 Adnah lifted his head, and looked up at the 
 moon. " I love you! " he whispered. 
 
 "Your mother is going to bed," grumbled the 
 old man. " Are you wiser than she, Miriam ? " 
 
 "Good Zuph, I have not become wise enough, 
 yet, to throw away the chance of a happy hour. 
 Leave me to enjoy the night. The clouds are 
 rolling away so rapidly, I love to watch them, and
 
 238 Adnah 
 
 yet that poor slave! it will make it harder for him 
 to hide." 
 
 " So much the better. Surely, child, you do not 
 want that vile thief to escape ? That would be wish 
 ing poor luck to your father and brother! But you 
 were always so strange, to have a father who is 
 wealthy! Do you remember that blind beggar and 
 the gladiator? And even Adnah, you had a kind 
 thought for him, once; I do think you were sorry 
 when he was sold and carried out of the world! It 
 is so strange for the daughter of a great man to 
 soil her mind with the thoughts of such low 
 creatures! " 
 
 "But you know, Zuph, he was innocent, for that 
 mule belonged to Lucius. And his father was not 
 a thief, either. And he is not a low creature, and I 
 will not have you say so! " 
 
 "At any rate you cannot deny his uncle was 
 discovered conspiring against Tiberius, and now 
 lies in Pilate s dungeon, presently to disport himself 
 in the arena! " 
 
 " I know what Iddo is, well enough. But that is 
 not his fault." 
 
 " Why! whose fault is it but his own ? " 
 
 "Of course it is his own, but not his, and you 
 must not call him a low creature to me, Zuph! " 
 
 "I am glad of one thing," grumbled the other;
 
 Miriam s Voice 239 
 
 "you may say his and him, but you never 
 speak his name. I don t think I have heard it 
 upon your lips since he was dragged out of 
 Judea! " 
 
 "There is no need; you know whom I mean." 
 
 "No need, indeed, child, and I am glad you see 
 that so clearly, for it is not a name worthy the lips 
 of my master s daughter." 
 
 " In truth, Zuph, that is not why I never speak it, 
 and you deceive yourself; and, Zuph, you take 
 liberties from our old friendship, and forget lam no 
 longer a child." 
 
 " I shall take one more liberty," retorted the old 
 man with some asperity, " and ask why you never 
 speak his name, but always avoid it if possible, 
 unless it is because you know it is not worthy to be 
 spoken by those proud lips." 
 
 " But they are not proud lips, Zuph." 
 
 "No! " groaned the other, " but they should be 
 proud lips." 
 
 "I cannot answer your question, because I do 
 not know the answer. However, it seems that 
 when his name is about to be spoken but I cannot 
 tell." 
 
 " Then / know! " cried the other gleefully. " It 
 is your blood, protesting in spite of your heart. I 
 have not sought to train you for nothing. You
 
 240 Adnah 
 
 have some of Reuben s haughty spirit after all, and 
 know it not! " 
 
 "Zuph, Zuph, it is not true!" cried Miriam, so 
 eagerly that her tone seemed to tremble with anger. 
 " Do not imagine I am ashamed to speak his name. 
 Adnah ! Do you hear ? I say it Adnah ! and 
 there is not a drop of blood in my veins that is 
 ashamed. No! Adnah, Adnah! It is a precious 
 name to me, for it is the name of a friend. The 
 thought of me is a flower in his life. It is not be 
 cause of my lips but because of the ears of others, 
 that his name Adnah s name is not heard. 
 Whenjyow hear his name, you think of a slave with 
 a terrible cloud resting upon his fame. But when 
 /hear it " 
 
 " What then ?" demanded Zuph drily. 
 
 " Leave me in the court, dear Zuph; you are old, 
 good Zuph, and the aged soon grow sleepy, and the 
 sleepy are cross. You were always so cross, faith 
 ful Zuph, when past your bedtime! Let me think 
 and think in the quiet night. See! God has set His 
 lamp upon the hill of heaven." 
 
 Adnah heard the old man return to the house, 
 muttering to himself. Presently a door closed. 
 Silence succeeded. He listened intently, but Mir 
 iam made no movement which his eager ears could 
 detect. Only that wall between them, after years
 
 Miriam s Voice 241 
 
 of longing and despair! Adnah remained upon his 
 knees, his eyes fixed upon the moon whose light 
 was shared by Miriam.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE VOICE OF LOVE 
 
 As the fugitive knelt in Iddo s court, every drop 
 of blood tingling with the consciousness of 
 Miriam s near presence, his mind slipped over the 
 rough path which for three years had torn his feet. 
 Swifter than the flight of a bird, his thoughts flashed 
 back to the scene on the Horns of Hattin where a 
 man of about thirty years sat addressing a great 
 multitude. Again he heard those wonderful words 
 which had brought him the greatest happiness in 
 his life; "For if you forgive men their trespasses, 
 your heavenly Father will also forgive you: but if 
 you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will 
 your Father forgive your trespasses." 
 
 In the tender silence, while Miriam s virgin soul 
 seemed speaking to him in some inexplicable man 
 ner, and the moon which she had called "dear," 
 was smiling down upon those two just those two, 
 Miriam and Adnah! his heart grew tender. The 
 intolerable burden of hate rolled away as that 
 divine voice continued to ring in his ears; "Love 
 
 your enemies; bless them that curse you, do good 
 
 242
 
 The Voice of Love 243 
 
 to them that hate you, and pray for them which 
 despitefully use you and persecute you, that you 
 may be the children of your father which is in 
 heaven." Again Adnah heard the tones and saw 
 the face of Jesus. He had forgotten Jesus, he had 
 had his wrongs to think about, and as he brooded 
 over them they became large enough to shut out all 
 the earth and heaven. The voice of Miriam had 
 changed everything. Before the dawn of day he 
 must give himself up to captivity, never to see that 
 maiden who sat so near his kneeling form; but 
 now all was different. Happy the woman whose 
 unconscious tones makes God audible to ears which 
 have ceased to hear His voice! 
 
 "Oh God, I thank Thee," whispered Adnah, 
 "that I did not find Iddo here. Oh God, take from 
 me that thirst for revenge which has made my hard 
 life harder all these years. Oh God, help me to 
 love that man, that I may call Thee, Father! " 
 
 A sound reached him from the other side of the 
 fence. It was the light passing of sandals over the 
 pavement. Adnah clasped his hands upon his 
 bosom and listened as to the footfalls of an angel. 
 Miriam drew nearer. The young man arose and 
 crept to the wall, his bare feet making no sound. 
 She stood just on the other side. They were 
 divided by the plank which had fallen that first
 
 244 Adnah 
 
 day, three years ago, leaving them face to face. He 
 could hear her breathing. If he could call her 
 name, if he could look into her face again, but no! 
 his uncouth appearance, his savage attire, and the 
 collar of shame about his neck no! Reason sealed 
 his lips. 
 
 Miriam knocked gently upon the plank. His 
 heart bounded. Did she know he was there ? Im 
 possible! She, too, was living over the past. 
 Why did she go back to that long ago? The 
 words of Gothinus suddenly rang in his ears with 
 startling distinctness: "There is a voice of love for 
 you in the world; are your ears so dull they have 
 not heard it calling ? " What had Gothinus meant ? 
 His voice? Surely his own voice! But could it 
 be- 
 
 Miriam was weeping. He heard a smothered sob. 
 
 He heard her passing her hand over the plank. 
 Then she whispered as one speaks to a beloved 
 form which memory has conjured up from the 
 dead Adnah Adnah Adnah Adnah Ad 
 nah!" 
 
 "Miriam!" 
 
 She was answered at last. Reason still held her 
 finger upon his lips. But there was a voice of love 
 for Miriam in the world, and it had spoken. 
 
 "Oh!" Her voice sounded sharp and startled,
 
 The Voice of Love 245 
 
 as her sorrow was shattered into fragments of fear 
 and wonder. It was like the fall of a thin vase 
 upon marble. 
 
 Miriam ! " He did not recognize his own voice. 
 It was as if a heart-throb had made itself audible in 
 speech. 
 
 She whispered the name of God. 
 
 " Miriam, it is Adnah! " 
 
 "Adnah?" she faltered, bewildered, her voice 
 sounding as one whose strength has suddenly 
 failed. "Adnah?" she said again, and the note of 
 faith gave strength to the music of her voice. 
 
 " Fear nothing, Miriam, I am all alone." 
 
 "Fear?" repeated the other, her tone vibrating 
 with such thrilling gladness that its broken harmony 
 was akin to pain; "ADNAH!" 
 
 He sobbed aloud. 
 
 "How did you come?" she asked in a low 
 tone. "How long have you been here?" Then 
 she wept to answer his sorrow. I thought they car 
 ried you from Judea," she murmured. " I thought 
 you and your father were slaves of Marcellus." 
 
 "I was carried to Sicily, I was his slave; but I 
 have not seen my father. That was Iddo s lie that 
 my father is known as Galba and belongs to 
 Marcellus. He deceived me even as he falsely ac 
 cused me."
 
 246 Adnah 
 
 " I know you are innocent," said Miriam. " But 
 if you were taken to Sicily 
 
 "I escaped; I am here in hiding; I am still a 
 slave, Miriam." 
 
 "But we will clear you; Gothinus will prove 
 how Iddo treated you, and Lucius will testify he 
 lent you the mule. You will be cleared, Adnah! " 
 
 "No, Miriam. I am sold to another master; I 
 have run away from him. It is nothing to him 
 whether I am innocent or guilty; I am his prop 
 erty." 
 
 "But you have escaped, you will not let them 
 find you. Oh, Adnah! if you will stay in Iddo s 
 home till they cease searching for you 
 
 She paused and there was silence between them 
 till she added, " I will bring you food through this 
 plank. . . . Do you remember ?" 
 
 "Could I forget, Miriam ? " 
 
 " Then when they have given you up, I will slip 
 you some disguise and you shall go forth under 
 another name and hunt your father. And if you 
 ever find him I have thought it all out, year after 
 year you will go with him to Pilate. For your 
 sake he will accuse Iddo, who is even now im 
 prisoned for conspiracy. Then you will be free to 
 go where you please." 
 
 Here," said Adnah softly. He saw it all
 
 The Voice of Love 247 
 
 as in a dream, as in a dream that could never 
 be. 
 
 "But how can you get the food to me?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " This plank is still unfastened. Do you remem 
 ber that day ? But you said. . . . Will you 
 tell me something of your life ? We are alone, and 
 no one will come till morning, at least until they 
 find the thief; father and Reuben are searching for 
 a runaway thief. Strange, strange, strange! Here 
 we stand and talk with the gate between us just as 
 
 we did. . . . Just as I was imagining Did 
 
 you hear me knock upon the plank our plank ? " 
 
 " Yes and did you hear my heart, Miriam ?" 
 
 " Did it remind you, Adnah ? " 
 
 "Oh, Miriam, I love you, I love you!" 
 
 Again there was silence, broken presently by a 
 timid voice in which laughter and tears were 
 mingled; " Has the thought of me been a flower in 
 your life, Adnah ? " 
 
 "Miriam, let me see your face once but once! 
 I will remove this plank 
 
 " No, no, no! I am all alone. No, Adnah, I say, 
 no! " 
 
 He made no answer. Suddenly he remembered 
 his condition; he had forgotten himself in his pas 
 sionate love.
 
 248 Adnah 
 
 "Adnah," she said timidly, "you are not of 
 fended?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Because, you will stay there a long time, and 
 of course you will see me if you want to see me 
 often. I will be upon the house-top every evening. 
 And when it is day, not late at night as now, 
 sometimes when all are gone I will bring you food; 
 then you will see me do you remember ? Dates 
 bread cold mutton and and 
 
 "And an angel," said Adnah gently; "yes, I re 
 member, Miriam. It was so long ago! Oh, Mir 
 iam, those three years in Sicily! I was forbidden to 
 speak to any one even to the vilest outcast, until I 
 should agree to join a band for plundering. 1 was 
 starved because I would not steal. Miriam, I had only 
 the meat that my dog would not eat. I slept as I 
 might, on sodden straw, the rains pouring upon me 
 and my dog ; we two were comrades poor Friend ! 
 I called him Friend. Year after year ... no 
 hope . . . starvation . . . cruelty from 
 the overseer . . . the dog s meat! " 
 
 "But you did not steal!" cried Miriam fiercely. 
 " You never, never became a brigand, Adnah! " 
 
 "Never. God bless you, Miriam! " 
 
 "I know you never did! " she said. " You would 
 rather have died, Adnah. You would prove your-
 
 The Voice of Love 249 
 
 self worthy of your father, of your father whom 
 wicked Iddo allows to bear his crime." 
 
 " Yes, Miriam." 
 
 " Adnah, you may remove the plank if you de 
 sire." 
 
 " It is better not," he answered hurriedly. 
 
 " Why do you say so ? Then you were offended." 
 
 " Oh no, how could you off end me? But but 
 you are alone, Miriam and it is late." 
 
 "I am not afraid to be alone with you, Adnah." 
 
 He wrung his hands. " And I grew to hate Iddo, 
 Miriam, to hate him as I hated in my youth. I 
 longed for revenge. I would have killed him. It 
 was the sound of your voice as you talked to Zuph 
 which reminded me of Jesus. But all that is gone. 
 I do not wish to do Iddo an injury. I do not wish 
 him to receive injuries from the hands of others. 
 God have mercy upon him! I wonder, Miriam, if 
 you ever watched the moon and thought of me 
 while I, at the same time, lay upon the ground in 
 Sicily, watching it, forgetting my rags and my 
 wounds, and thinking of you ? But what are you 
 doing, Miriam? "he asked suddenly, in a tone of 
 alarm. 
 
 "I will remove the plank," she said; "it was I 
 who first threw it to the ground that day." 
 
 "But no, oh no, Miriam, you must not. I com-
 
 250 Adnah 
 
 mand you not to move the plank! " he cried des 
 perately. 
 
 " But 1 do not obey your commands," she re 
 torted; "you must never command me, Adnah, I 
 do not like commands. And you cannot prevent 
 me, for the plank falls upon my side and you have no 
 way to hold it back." 
 
 " But hear me, Miriam hear reason listen to 
 my reason! " 
 
 " You do not wish to see me then, Adnah ?" 
 
 " Wait, Miriam, wait! " 
 
 " But I wish to see you! " she said. 
 
 " Will you hear me first ?" 
 
 "I know I was thinking of you whenever you 
 thought of me," she said; " 1 do not believe I missed 
 one time! " 
 
 " Hear me, Miriam! I am the fugitive your father 
 and brother are seeking. I am the one they call the 
 runaway thief." 
 
 " You, Adnah ?" 
 
 "I. They search all Capernaum for me." 
 
 " But you and I know you are not a thief. That 
 is no reason to keep the gate between us." 
 
 "There is more. I am frightful to behold. If 
 you should see me in my wolves -skins, my hair 
 long and barbarous, my feet burned and bleeding, 
 my bare arms scarred and torn, you would despise
 
 The Voice of Love 251 
 
 me, Miriam. And around my neck is the iron collar 
 of a runaway. You shall never see me, never, never, 
 Miriam, with this band welded about my throat as 
 if I were a dog! " 
 
 The plank fell to the ground. 
 
 Adnah started away with a low cry, snatching up 
 his rude garment with an agitated hand that he 
 might draw it over the collar of shame. He heard 
 a footstep behind him. Miriam had entered Iddo s 
 court. He paused in his flight. 
 
 "Will you not look at me, Adnah ?" came her 
 voice sadly. Slowly he turned and looked through 
 the hair that hung over his forehead, still clutching 
 the covering about his throat. The moonlight was 
 full upon them both. It showed the red tide of 
 shame in his cheeks, the red tide of confusion in 
 hers. Both were abashed, and at first neither looked 
 into the other s face. Adnah was the first to raise 
 his eyes. He felt a shock of surprise, for she was 
 changed; she was a young girl no longer. Then 
 came passionate admiration ; for her youth had made 
 no promise of grace, beauty or purity which her 
 maturity did not fulfil. 
 
 "Wonderful!" he whispered, and for a moment 
 he forgot his wretchedness. 
 
 " I see the dress of wolves -skins," said Miriam 
 softly, "and your hair is long and barbarous, Ad-
 
 252 Adnah 
 
 nah; but I do not despise you. Will you not come 
 to me ? or must I follow you ? " 
 
 He came and knelt before her. But he was 
 painfully conscious of his unworthiness. She laid 
 her hand upon his, and he trembled. Her grasp 
 tightened and strove to push his hand down, that 
 hand which held the garment about the iron band. 
 He resisted even while the touch of the soft warm 
 fingers thrilled him with ecstasy. 
 
 "Adnah!" she pleaded, pushing with all her 
 might. 
 
 His arm, rigid as steel, kept the wild dress in 
 place. 
 
 "Adnah!" she panted, pushing upon his proud 
 clenched hand with both of her little palms. "If 
 you love me, Adnah!" 
 
 He looked up, then, but his grasp did not relent. 
 
 " Adnah! It is because I love you." 
 
 His hand fell away like that of a little child 
 caught in the grasp of a strong master. The dress 
 of wolves -skins dropped upon his shoulders. The 
 iron collar gleamed in the moonlight. The lovely 
 head of the maiden bent over the shaggy head of 
 the slave, and the lips of Miriam printed a kiss upon 
 the band of shame welded about Adnah s neck. 
 The next moment love spread her wings of fear. 
 Adnah with a cry started up, his arms outspread.
 
 The Voice of Love 253 
 
 But Miriam had fled. She did not wait for him, 
 but lifted the plank in its place. Adnah, his brain 
 whirling, rushed to the fence, and whispered her 
 name. 
 
 " Good-night! " came a soft voice. 
 
 "Miriam! " he whispered passionately. 
 
 "Good-night, Adnah." 
 
 "My Father!" murmured Adnah, looking up 
 ward. 
 
 " Good-night, dear, dear Adnah," came her 
 voice. 
 
 "Good-bye, Miriam, good-bye!" 
 
 " Until to-morrow," she added. 
 
 He made no answer.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 GOTHINUS 
 
 " BUT, my lord, the old woman saw them to 
 gether." 
 
 "The old woman!" cried Lucius the centurion 
 impatiently, as he confronted Reuben. "This is 
 too much! to be called from my bed to hear a 
 charge against Gothinus preferred by some old 
 woman! " 
 
 "But, my lord " 
 
 "I know, I know very well, Reuben, your hos 
 tility towards poor Gothinus; and why? Because 
 he is not a Jew. I, too, am a gentile, but you 
 come to me, you seek my friendship. But I was 
 never a slave, I am not poor and dependent, ah, 
 Reuben ?" 
 
 A flush darkened the face of Miriam s brother, 
 but he controlled himself. "My lord, you accuse 
 me." 
 
 "Well, well," said Lucius hastily, "perhaps I do 
 not know what I say, to be dragged from bed to 
 listen to the tale of an old woman! And against 
 
 the faithfulest lad in Capernaum, Jew or gentile! " 
 
 2 54
 
 Gothinus 255 
 
 "But I can testify that Gothinus bade us not 
 search that street," said the young priest. "And 
 when I expressed my opinion that the thief was 
 Adnah, he said never a word. He was Adnah s 
 friend, and so was anxious to shield him." 
 
 "Were he Adnah s brother," cried Lucius, "he 
 would not protect him, a runaway slave, from the 
 Roman law. What! Have 1 nourished Gothinus 
 from a helpless babe, favored him in all things, even 
 to the extent of granting him his liberty, that he 
 might dishonor me ? Could he, a man of honor 
 (though a barbarian), find it in his noble heart to 
 aid a fugitive whom he had been commissioned by 
 me to pursue and capture?" 
 
 "But, my lord, will you not at least send for 
 Gothinus and question him ?" 
 
 " By the God of the Jews! " cried Lucius, "you 
 will make a famous priest, Reuben. You are a 
 Sadducee born, not made! You will not believe in 
 the resurrection, after you have risen from the 
 dead!" 
 
 They stood in the court of the garrison in which 
 Lucius had taken up his quarters. The centurion 
 called a soldier and sent for Gothinus, and, until ap 
 proaching footsteps were heard, no further words 
 were exchanged between the Roman and the Jew. 
 The moonlight was struggling against the dawning
 
 256 Adnah 
 
 of the morning, as if each would be master of the 
 world. 
 
 "Gothinus," said the centurion in an affectionate 
 tone, "you were near at hand." 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 " You have not been away upon the search ?" 
 
 "Not since I last saw Reuben." 
 
 Lucius was surprised. 
 
 "Perhaps," suggested Reuben coolly, "he found 
 no further need of searching." 
 
 "Gothinus," said Lucius hastily, "it is reported 
 that you were seen whispering to a fugitive in a 
 street; that you made no attempt to arrest him after 
 you had once seen his face; and that this fugitive 
 answers the description of the runaway thief." 
 
 "It is true," answered Gothinus. 
 
 " True? " echoed Lucius loudly. 
 
 "True!" sneered Reuben. 
 
 "Gothinus, do you know what you say ? Have 
 you aided a runaway slave to elude pursuit?" 
 
 "It was Adnah," cried Reuben, "Adnah was 
 his friend." 
 
 "Gothinus, Gothinus! And do you think," said 
 his master sternly, "that my former kindness will 
 protect you from the terrible punishment your 
 crime merits ? " 
 
 "Hear me, my lord," said Gothinus quietly. "I
 
 Gothinus 257 
 
 saw a form advancing to meet me in a narrow 
 street, and I recognized the runaway. I sprang 
 from my horse to make the arrest, and saw his 
 face; it was Adnah." 
 
 "The son of a thief," muttered Reuben. 
 
 "What then?" cried Lucius fiercely to his for 
 mer slave. His endeavor to hide his pain made his 
 manner cruel. 
 
 "We know Adnah was innocent," continued 
 Gothinus, unmoved by Reuben s disdain and his 
 master s anger. "It was your mule he rode into 
 Jerusalem, and I heard Iddo confess that the father 
 was not a thief. We know they had no right to 
 sell Adnah to Marcellus." 
 
 "What then?" retorted Lucius, "he was sold, 
 and sold again! He has not been manumitted nor 
 was his freedom bought by the government or by his 
 friends; yet in his servile condition, he runs away. 
 Who should know the laws of slavery better than 
 you, a former slave ? Why do you speak to me of 
 Adnah s innocence ? It was nothing to you if he 
 were Adnah or no; he is a runaway, and your crime 
 is manifest from your own lips." 
 
 " But my knowledge that it was Adnah gave me 
 a kind feeling for him," said Gothinus. "He 
 craved a brief time, a respite, promising to come to 
 me and give himself up when he had accomplished
 
 258 Adnah 
 
 his object. He will come. I am not afraid Adnah 
 will betray me." 
 
 "Miserable fool!" groaned Lucius. "And you 
 really believe he will surrender his liberty for a 
 word ? " 
 
 " I believe it! " 
 
 Reuben laughed bitterly. " The son of a thief! " 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 " What was his object ? " questioned Lucius. 
 
 "To avenge his wrongs upon Iddo. When he 
 finds Iddo is gone, and after he has looked upon his 
 home again, and brought back his boyhood and 
 and But if he does not return, I freely offer 
 you my life!" 
 
 "Miserable Gothinus!" cried Lucius desperately, 
 "did you tell him your life depended upon his 
 keeping this wild pledge ? " 
 
 "No, dear master, I neither insisted upon his 
 keeping it, nor did I ask him to make it." 
 
 "Was his oath one of terrible solemnity?" 
 
 "He made no oath, no vow, my lord." 
 
 "Are you prepared to die, Gothinus?" 
 
 "No, my lord, I am waiting for Adnah s return. 
 But if I could die and thus procure for Admih the 
 happiness that might have been his, yet not for his 
 sake, but because I love another 
 
 " I understand you, I understand! " hissed Reuben
 
 Gothinus 259 
 
 with a look of fury. " But think it not, O false 
 slave! Neither for any gentile nor for any thief is 
 that happiness, but for one of the most highly hon 
 ored of the Sanhedrim! " 
 
 At this moment a voice from the gateway called, 
 " Gothinus! " 
 
 " He has come! " said the German as he hastened 
 to the gate. In its shadow stood Adnah. Gothinus 
 threw his arm about the dishonored neck and whis 
 pered in the fugitive s ear, " Did you see her, O, 
 did you speak to her, Adnah ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes! thank God and Gothinus!" 
 
 "The guard! the guard!" shouted Lucius, wild 
 with exultant surprise. "Men, ho! Spread the 
 tidings, he is found! Bind and guard him. The 
 couriers, let them be brought. Come hither, 
 Gothinus, and let me embrace you. But it was a 
 terrible risk! How could you trust your life in the 
 hands of any man ?" 
 
 Gothinus looked at the prisoner whose white but 
 serene face was turned lovingly upon him and an 
 swered, " He has listened to the voice of Jesus! "
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 ADNAH AND IDDO 
 
 IN the prison floor was a narrow iron door. It 
 was raised, revealing black space. The beams of a 
 torch showed Adnah a rusty ladder leading down 
 into the dungeon. "Descend!" said one of the 
 guard. 
 
 Adnah crept partly down the cold ladder. The 
 door fell into its place overhead and bars were 
 drawn to secure it. He was in the midst of im 
 penetrable darkness, clinging to the rounds, afraid 
 to go lower into unknown depths, among un 
 known dangers. Here was the end of his long 
 journey, the flight and the capture. Now he 
 could rest his bleeding feet; he was in Jerusalem; 
 in a few days he was destined to face the gladiator 
 in the amphitheatre. Here was the closing chapter 
 of the evil Iddo had wrought. Loss of liberty, of 
 happiness, of life, all this he owed his uncle. But 
 he felt for the Pharisee neither the dull despairing 
 hate which had threatened to brutalize his soul in 
 Sicily, nor the deadly, ungovernable fury which had 
 
 driven him to Capernaum. " If you love them that 
 
 260
 
 Adnah and Iddo 261 
 
 love you, what is your reward?" Certainly Iddo 
 would never reward him. From whom, then, could 
 he expect a blessing? "Love your enemies that 
 you may be the children of your Father who is in 
 heaven." 
 
 Adnah had found a father at last, and with un 
 questioning faith he gave God all the love and 
 service which is a father s due. Only he who for 
 gives his enemies can claim that heavenly King as 
 Father, how few! thought Adnah, are His children 
 in the world! Yet he, an outcast, a miserable 
 prisoner, a slave with the iron band of a runaway 
 about his throat, he was a child of God! He be 
 lieved God was conscious of his sorrows, and pitied 
 him even as Samuel would have pitied, had he 
 known. He believed that when he whispered 
 "My Father," his voice penetrated the dungeon 
 walls and reached the ear of God. 
 
 " 1 do not ask you to save my life," he murmured. 
 "You can do everything for your children, but 
 everything is not good for them. Give me courage 
 to die, that is all. And watch over my other 
 father wherever he may be; give him an easy life 
 and quiet thoughts of me." 
 
 What prisoner is not eager to learn the limits of 
 his captivity ? At last Adnah lost his dread of the 
 gloom, and crept down to the floor. It was wet
 
 262 Adnah 
 
 and slippery. With outstretched arms he began an 
 exploration of the dungeon. The walls as well as 
 the floor, were of smooth stones, so skilfully fitted 
 together that each side of the apartment seemed one 
 huge slippery block. His bare feet were chilled, 
 his fingers, as they slipped along, were numbed, 
 while cold drops of water ran down upon his arms. 
 In one side he found an iron grating. He clung to 
 it and stared with painful fixedness through the 
 little apertures; no light was visible. When he 
 reached the ladder he knew he had made a circuit 
 of the chamber. Falling upon hands and knees he 
 started across the floor diagonally, that he might know 
 his prison thoroughly. He had not gone very far 
 when his outstretched hand failed to find the floor 
 beneath it. His weight was thrown upon the edge 
 of an opening, from which he shrank with a cry of 
 horror. Far below him came the murmur of water. 
 With a sickened heart he returned to the ladder and 
 lay upon the reeking floor, shuddering at the mem 
 ory of his danger. 
 
 Presently he spoke aloud: " My Father, you were 
 so good to me that night! Isn t she beautiful! You 
 know how I love her! Were you listening when 
 she said I love you ? But I know you were. I 
 think the angels all smiled when she said, I love 
 you! And you knew it all the time! You knew it
 
 Adnah and Iddo 263 
 
 when I was in Sicily with poor Friend, and when 
 I wanted to die. Did you try to tell me with the 
 flowers and stars? I hated the flowers; and I 
 thought the stars were laughing at my misery. So 
 little did I know you! " 
 
 He ceased speaking. The cold and damp seemed 
 to penetrate to the bone. He got up and began to 
 walk back and forth, always careful not to approach 
 the mysterious opening. He hoped to warm him 
 self with the exercise, but he was too weary to per 
 severe. Presently he sank upon the floor. "My 
 Father," he said plaintively, "I cannot keep from 
 shivering, I am so very weak. But I am not com 
 plaining. You know why I must be here, and that 
 is enough for me. I know you love me, because I 
 have forgiven Iddo, and I would like to tell him so. 
 If he is ever sorry for what he has done, will you 
 make him feel happy ? I wish you would make a 
 good man out of Iddo." 
 
 A sudden clashing sound smote upon his ears. 
 It came from the middle of the room. Adnah cried 
 out at the startling noise. Silence ensued. 
 
 What had happened ? Could it be that he was not 
 alone? He called and there was no response. He be 
 gan to crawl in the direction of the interruption, fear 
 ful of what he might find, yet unable to endure his 
 wild conjectures. The cause was soon apparent.
 
 264 Adnah 
 
 The opening in the floor had been closed. How, 
 and for what purpose were mysteries. He returned 
 to the ladder. 
 
 "My Father," he said, "sometimes I forget that 
 you are watching over me." Then he added, "It 
 is such a comfort to talk aloud to you and know that I 
 am not alone! And you always have time for me." 
 
 There burst upon his ears the splashing of water. 
 Then he understood. The grating in the wall was 
 for the admission of water; the opening in the 
 floor had been closed to hold in the flood. Death 
 by drowning! A steady stream thundered upon the 
 floor, an icy wave floated to his feet. Adnah leaped 
 up and climbed to the top of the ladder. He beat 
 his hands upon the iron door overhead, he shouted 
 madly. There was no answer but the thunder of 
 the water. As its sound grew less, his terror in 
 creased. The lessening sound meant that the flood 
 was reaching the level of the hole in the wall. At 
 last all sound ceased. It was rising silently, that 
 black pool, it was climbing the ladder. 
 
 "My Father!" cried Adnah suddenly. The 
 touch of death had kissed his feet. But after that, 
 it came no higher. With cautious step he discov 
 ered that the tide was receding. The opening in 
 the floor was letting the water escape. For this time, 
 at least, he was saved.
 
 Adnah and Iddo 265 
 
 While still he clung to the ladder, the door above 
 his head was lifted up, and a light glared into his 
 eyes. A face looked in, the face of the soldier 
 who had arrested him three years ago; but he was 
 blinded by the torch and did not recognize the 
 merry soldier. 
 
 "Why! here is the fellow, like a rat in a trap!" 
 said the merry soldier to an unseen companion, 
 "clinging to the roof of his cage. Down with 
 you, rat! We have another rat here to squeak with 
 you for company." 
 
 "Mercy!" cried Adnah. "Death is in this 
 dungeon! " 
 
 "Death? What more do you expect? Out of 
 the way! you thieves thirst for other people s 
 property, now slake your thirst, we will send you 
 plenty of water!" Adnah climbed, shuddering to 
 the ground to escape the weapon that threatened 
 him. The second Roman descended the ladder 
 while the first held the torch. The former carried 
 a burden in his arms. 
 
 "A curse upon the fate," cried the man on the 
 ladder, " which made me a Jew s packhorse! " 
 
 "You are never content!" remonstrated the 
 other; "do I not hold the light while you do the 
 work ? As for your Jew, it is nothing but bone 
 and Pharisee. "
 
 266 Adnah 
 
 The burden in the soldier s brawny arms quivered, 
 and found a voice. " Mercy, mercy, mercy! I will 
 see Pilate, I must see Pilate! I am innocent, inno 
 cent, I say I am innocent of conspiracy. I have 
 an explanation to make 
 
 "Silence!" shouted the man who bore him. "It 
 is enough to feel your Jew s flesh against my bosom. 
 By Minerva, who is a wise lady, I will cast you 
 upon your head if this same head does not couch its 
 tongue for the night!" 
 
 " For shame," cried the man who held the torch, 
 "to speak of Minerva so lightly, she who is a 
 goddess, as Tiberius is a god! As for the fellow s 
 explanation, he can make it in the arena." 
 
 " You will kill me, me who am a great man in 
 Israel!" wailed the Pharisee as he was dropped 
 heavily upon the floor. 
 
 "Not we," retorted the torch-bearer. "Come up, 
 comrade. Nay, not we, old bones! Why should 
 we wish to kill a shadow? How could we hate 
 you ? Hate is too great a stone to throw at so 
 weak a bird. But there is a rat in your cage who 
 may gnaw your bonds loose. You have heard of 
 him. Adnah, here is Iddo; Iddo, here is Adnah. 
 Good-night! " 
 
 The door closed overhead. 
 
 " Iddo! " exclaimed Adnah.
 
 Adnah and Iddo 267 
 
 A despairing shriek burst from Iddo s throat, an 
 inarticulate cry of frenzied terror. It filled the dun 
 geon, making the darkness more awful. 
 
 " Speak to me, Iddo, that I may find you," said 
 the young man, feeling along the slippery floor. 
 
 " Mercy mercy what are you ? His voice! It 
 cannot be! But mercy, man or or fiend or 
 angel, oh! " 
 
 Adnah s hand had found his arm. Iddo tried to 
 shrink away, but he was bound hand and foot, and 
 could scarce cringe under the grasp. 
 
 " Iddo, it is I, your brother s son." Adnah gently 
 lifted up the head of his enemy and rested it upon 
 his knee. 
 
 " Mercy mercy " stammered Iddo, trying to 
 draw his head away. " Pity pity I am an old 
 man 
 
 " Do not fear," said Adnah, " you are my friend 
 because I am your enemy." 
 
 " Is it Adnah ? " came the agonized voice. 
 
 " Do you not know my voice, Iddo ? " 
 
 Iddo shrieked again in quavering tones. 
 
 "It is Adnah, but much more than Adnah, my 
 friend, my uncle; it is Adnah with the words of 
 Jesus living in his heart. It is Adnah who has two 
 fathers; one, a slave, the other, the King of 
 Heaven."
 
 268 Adnah 
 
 " Adnah Adnah I am at your mercy. Oh 
 spare me, do not kill me, who am of your own 
 blood. What will you do to me, Adnah, what will 
 you do ? Beat me, despise me as you will, but let 
 me live! 1 will crawl at your command, I will 
 kiss your feet, you shall have my body for your 
 pillow, but, oh, grant me my life, Adnah! What 
 will you do ? " 
 
 " I am trying to love you, Iddo; I am trying my 
 very best; but you do make it so hard for me! " 
 
 " I accused you falsely, Adnah, I suffered you to 
 be sold into captivity, and carried from the land of 
 our fathers. I suffered a Roman to become your 
 master. I bribed false witnesses. I lied at your 
 trial, 1 thought you would never return. I believed 
 you would die in a foreign country! " 
 
 " I know all this, Iddo." 
 
 "But spare me, Adnah, hate me, but do not 
 kill." 
 
 " Fear nothing," said his nephew. 
 
 " I made your youth a time of torture. I starved 
 you, beat you, wished for your death. You would 
 not die! You were always sickly, pale, weak, 
 but you would not die. And I wanted you to die. 
 I hated you. I entombed you in the cave. You 
 said you forgave me." 
 
 " I did forgive you."
 
 Adnah and Iddo 269 
 
 "Then, when you freed me, after you had 
 given me that blessing, how did I reward you ? I 
 sold you as a thief! " 
 
 "Do not speak of that; it is forgiven, too." 
 
 "You mean Adnah, do you mean that after 
 all, and though you are here because of me, 
 still " 
 
 " Yes; I forgive you everything." 
 
 "You cannot, Adnah. What is your purpose? 
 What will you do to me ? " 
 
 " Iddo, I have been very wicked since you stood 
 at my trial; I have forgotten God and craved for 
 vengeance. Yet my Father will forgive me; He has 
 forgiven although there was murder in my heart. 
 But how ? Only as I forgive you. There must be 
 peace between me and God; but there cannot be 
 peace, unless I love you, too. A man s enemy 
 always stands between him and God. One little 
 cloud of hate will shut out all the glory of heaven. 
 I must love you, Iddo, I will love you! Now I 
 kiss your brow, poor Iddo! so unhappy, so weak, 
 so erring, so hard to comprehend! I do love 
 you." 
 
 Iddo sobbed. Presently he faltered, "Whence 
 this strange philosophy ? " 
 
 " From Jesus of Nazareth ; but He would not have 
 called His simple words by so hard a name. I
 
 2jo Adnah 
 
 heard His sermon on the Horns of Hattin. He is the 
 Christ. Shall I tell you a few things He said ? " 
 
 "No, Adnah, I am afraid." 
 
 "Afraid of Jesus ? Why! He raises people from 
 their deathbeds. He healed Simon the leper. You 
 cannot be afraid of Him, for if He has any business, 
 it seems to be just doing good." 
 
 " He was not a Pharisee," said Iddo. 
 
 " A great man belongs to all parties," said Adnah. 
 "You are a Pharisee with all your heart; but you 
 would be shocked to hear it said God is a Pharisee, 
 would you not? And Jesus is the Christ." 
 
 "No, no, never!" cried Iddo violently. " I tell 
 you He is not the Christ! Have you not heard what 
 has happened in Jerusalem ? Jesus is dead. He 
 was crucified not many weeks ago." 
 
 "Jesus is dead?" echoed Adnah in horror. 
 "Dead? How could He die? Oh, Iddo, Iddo, 
 these are false words! Can God still ask me to 
 love you, when you slander His son ?" 
 
 "He is dead," repeated Iddo solemnly. 
 
 "Has the hope of ages perished?" returned the 
 other skeptically. " Do you, who know the law, 
 imagine death could overtake the Son of David be 
 fore He had accomplished His mission ? Jesus is 
 the King of the Jews. Soon He will sit in His pal 
 ace and judge the world. Rome will come under
 
 Adnah and Iddo 271 
 
 His dominion; He will rule over empires as well as 
 diseases! " 
 
 " But, Adnah, as I pray for mercy at your hands, 
 Jesus is dead." 
 
 " No," was the answer, " it is impossible! " 
 
 " But He is not the Christ, Adnah." 
 
 Adnah laid the Pharisee s head upon the hard 
 ground and drew away in the darkness. 
 
 Iddo s voice sounded with fear. "Mercy mercy 1 
 But I swear to you he is dead. Ask the soldiers, if 
 they come again; ask them if His body was not 
 stolen from the sepulchre. All the world knows He 
 is dead. It is no secret; He was held high upon the 
 mount that men might see Him die! " 
 
 "But He is the Christ," cried Adnah, "I know 
 He is the Christ! " 
 
 Iddo lay still, his fear of death contending with 
 his inborn prejudices. The Pharisaical spirit gained 
 the mastery, and he said, " Give me a proof, Adnah, 
 one proof!" 
 
 " How can I argue against your wisdom, Iddo?" 
 exclaimed the other in distress. "You know how 
 ignorant I am, who should know better? Did 
 you never hear Him speak ? Did you never see Him 
 heal the sick ? Did you never look into His eyes ? " 
 
 " Yes but He is dead! One proof, Adnah! " 
 
 "Oh, Iddo, if I could tear open my heart, and
 
 272 Adnah 
 
 give you some of my faith, the larger share of my 
 treasure; still I would know He is the Christ!" 
 
 "A proof! " persisted Iddo. 
 
 " Here is a proof! " cried Adnah. He put his arm 
 about the prostrate form and kissed the lips that 
 had so often reviled him. " It is not I, of my own 
 power, who love you, Iddo. But it is I with the 
 power of the words of Jesus, by the grace of God." 
 
 Iddo whispered, " Wonderful is God! " 
 
 "Oh, my poor enemy," cried Adnah excitedly, 
 "have I helped you in any way to see plainer the 
 goodness of God?" 
 
 "Yes, my child; when you freed me in the 
 cave; when you prayed for me; and now, oh, 
 Adnah!" 
 
 "I bless you for those words. All the injury 
 you have inflicted upon me is forgotten in the joy 
 you give. For Jesus told me to do something I 
 thought beyond my power. I said, One so 
 ignorant cannot perform a miracle! 
 
 "Surely," faltered Iddo, his voice broken by 
 sobs, "whenever one from his heart forgives an 
 enemy, a miracle is wrought in the world! What 
 did Jesus ask that you thought so hard?" 
 
 " He said, Let your light so shine that men may 
 see your good works and glorify your Father who 
 is in heaven. "
 
 Adnah and Iddo 273 
 
 " You have fulfilled the saying," said Iddo. 
 
 "I can give you a greater proof, after a while," 
 exclaimed the young man eagerly. " For when the 
 water rushes through the grating which you cannot 
 see, when it rises in this chamber, as cold as ice, 
 and it is so dark, you can only hear it What 
 would you do without me, Iddo ? You could not 
 do without your Adnah then, I think! But I will 
 lift you in my arms and my Father will give me 
 strength 
 
 " Who?" exclaimed Iddo sharply. 
 
 "I mean my other father, Iddo; not the slave. 
 And I will carry you up the ladder and hold you 
 out of harm till the water has subsided. You will 
 be safe in my arms; you will not be afraid! " 
 
 "Now I know," cried Iddo, "why I was re 
 moved from the prison where Barabbas was first 
 confined with me; it was that I might drown here, 
 or perish at your hands. Well do they know that 
 Sextus would never fight with me, but would 
 sooner die! " 
 
 "And why, Iddo? Was Sextus your friend? 
 Sextus is the name of the gladiator; I am to stand 
 before him; there will be short work, then, Iddo! 
 But come, now, tell me Jesus did not die!" 
 
 "He died. In truth, and as I prize your mercy, 
 He died. I saw Him crucified, I saw Him taken
 
 274 Adnah 
 
 from the cross. There was a terrible darkness 
 upon the world, there was an earthquake, the veil 
 of the Temple was rent. But some say He rose 
 from the dead. Some say He proved Himself King 
 over death. He was seen many times and by 
 many people." Iddo added in a whisper that 
 thrilled the listener s soul, "Lord, I believe!" 
 Then he added, " Adnah, Sextus is your father."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE WATCHERS 
 
 A THRONG of various nationalities lined the road 
 that led from the palace crowning Mount Zion, that 
 pile of imposing grandeur which had been appro 
 priated by Pilate. Above the wall of David tow 
 ered the three magnificent palaces of Herod, one of 
 them named in honor of Mariamne, whom he had 
 so cruelly loved, and so fondly hated. Below these 
 structures which man had fashioned in the graceful 
 and airy forms of fancy, and then had secured in 
 marble, stood the still more imposing New Palace 
 of Herod, inclosing within its towering walls a 
 great extent of parks and mustering grounds. This 
 was the stronghold of Rome in Jerusalem. 
 
 That tranquillity might be secured among the 
 waiting throng, for insurrection smouldered every 
 where, waiting for the breath of a leader to blow it 
 into flame, soldiers were stationed at safe inter 
 vals. Among these was the man dimly known to 
 the reader as the "merry soldier." He stood fully- 
 armed, good-naturedly chaffing the Jews and bar- 
 275
 
 276 Adnah 
 
 barians about him, and when they saw not the 
 force of his jest, often driving it home with a blow 
 upon a sullen head. Whenever the crowd showed 
 a disposition to come to a standstill, it was his duty 
 to send them upon their way, thrusting forward the 
 wooden handle of a long spear when words proved 
 ineffective. It was the day of the gladiatorial com 
 bats, and the city was crowded with foreigners; 
 for, since the downfall of the amphitheatre at 
 Fidenae, Tiberius had forbidden games in Italy. 
 The fame of Pilate s entertainment had gone forth, 
 bringing the pleasure-loving Romans by every road 
 to the Holy City. Just outside the city walls stood 
 the amphitheatre built by the procurator of Judea. 
 The games had already begun, and the blood of 
 beasts and slaves was mingling upon the sands of 
 the Land of Promise. 
 
 The Jews, impotent in their anger, but fascinated 
 by the sacrilege now going on, moved in a great 
 loop about the building, whence mad shouts and 
 excited exclamations issued. The merry soldier at 
 last discovered that a party of three passed before 
 him at regular intervals; an old man, a man in his 
 prime, and a maiden. Compassion for the weari 
 ness and misery upon their faces prompted him to 
 address them. 
 
 "Go home, Jew friends, for you can do nothing
 
 The Watchers 277 
 
 here. Man, take the maiden away. She can scarce 
 stand." 
 
 "Do not send us away," cried the maiden, in a 
 voice of keen distress, " for there is one yonder," 
 she pointed towards the amphitheatre whose rear 
 looked upon them, "who is about to die." The 
 speaker was Miriam. She was accompanied by her 
 father and old Zuph, the faithful slave. 
 
 The merry soldier looked closely into the white, 
 drawn face and said abruptly, " Your lover ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Miriam. 
 
 "You three may stand behind me, out of the 
 press," said the guard. " But presently yonder rear 
 doors will be thrown open, and the corpses of those 
 who fall before the might of Sextus, the gladiator, 
 will be carried by this road. You will not stay to 
 look upon the bloody sight?" 
 
 " It is for that we are here," said Joel, supporting 
 his daughter tenderly. "Sir, suffer us to re 
 main." 
 
 " Why, so you shall! There is no sight so sweet 
 as that of fresh blood, but I thought only a Roman 
 had a sweet tooth in his eye." 
 
 Miriam, heedless of the words, strained her eyes 
 upon the amphitheatre, and became lost to the 
 world about her. Her spirit had gone to suffer be 
 side the soul of Adnah. The merry soldier s atten-
 
 278 Adnah 
 
 tion was distracted from the sorrowful group by a 
 tumult near at hand. 
 
 " Where is Barabbas ? " cried a voice. " Here is 
 our opportunity. They are in a trap, let it be 
 sprung! " 
 
 "Silence!" retorted another. "Pilate gave us 
 Jesus, let him enjoy the games as his reward! " 
 
 " They say," spoke up a woman who had caught 
 a word or two, "that Jesus rose from the dead ! " 
 
 "I saw Him after He was risen! " shouted an ex 
 ultant voice. 
 
 "It is false, it is false! " exclaimed a priest, lifting 
 his clenched hand above the heads of his compan 
 ions, and shaking it at a man who was separated 
 from him by a press of men and women. "He 
 was stolen from the sepulchre while the guard slept. " 
 
 The man thus threatened by the angry gesture, 
 shouted back in reply, " But I saw Him with mine 
 own eyes, and He walked with Cleopas and me to 
 our home, and as He explained the scriptures, our 
 hearts burned. He sat at meat with us, He van 
 ished from our sight, Jesus the Christ! " 
 
 There was a scream of fury from the priest and 
 his companions, while the road became jammed. 
 Men struggled to reach the speaker who thus 
 calmly struck at the roots of their superstition and 
 prejudice.
 
 The Watchers 279 
 
 " Do you seek to teach us," cried one, " you who 
 were born in your sins, you who sat, a blind 
 beggar, at the gates, you whom we cast out of the 
 synagogue ?" 
 
 "Miriam!" whispered old Zuph, "yonder is 
 Rinnah, our blind beggar. See how bright are his 
 eyes! " 
 
 Miriam did not turn her gaze from the amphi 
 theatre; her form shook violently as a roar of ap 
 plause burst from the crowded tiers that looked 
 down upon the arena. 
 
 "Zuph," said Joel in a low voice, "let us call 
 Rinnah; perhaps it will distract Miriam s mind from 
 its agony." 
 
 "Not so, my master," said the privileged slave. 
 " A blind man may get back his eyes; but a beggar 
 never sews up the hole in his bag." 
 
 "Friend Jew," said the merry soldier, staying 
 Rinnah with his hand, "is it true you were born 
 blind?" 
 
 "Sir, I was blind from my birth. But Jesus 
 anointed mine eyes, and now I see. The years of 
 my youth and early manhood were shrouded in 
 gloom, but I am well repaid for all their misery, 
 since I have seen the Christ risen from the 
 grave." 
 
 "It is false!" came the angry chorus from the
 
 280 Adnah 
 
 rear. " Never yet has the world seen a man risen 
 from the grave." 
 
 " Why, look you! " cried Rinnah good-naturedly; 
 "which is more strange: that my parents sins 
 made me blind, or that the Son of God is conqueror 
 over death ?" 
 
 The soldier was now obliged to disperse the men, 
 who were becoming every moment more threaten 
 ing. As Rinnah passed, his eyes fell upon Miriam s 
 face; he paused involuntarily, as if the sight of it 
 stirred dimly the memory of a voice of long ago; 
 the next moment he went on his way, and Zuph 
 sighed with relief. 
 
 He had scarcely vanished around the amphitheatre 
 when a sharp voice smote upon the troubled air; 
 "Father! Miriam!" 
 
 This time Miriam started, and withdrew her eyes 
 from the wall that stood between her and Adnah. 
 She turned and faced her brother. 
 
 "It needed but this! it needed but this!" cried 
 Reuben, who was pale with anger and mortifica 
 tion. "Why are you here? All but my mother 
 conspire to bring about my ruin! " 
 
 " Reuben!" his father exclaimed reproachfully. 
 
 " Maiden," said the merry soldier, "is this fellow 
 displeasing to you ? Shall I deal him a sound blow 
 upon his angry pate ? Perchance all this fury has
 
 The Watchers 281 
 
 not sufficient cause. Shall I give him fresh cause, 
 maiden ?" 
 
 "He is my brother," said Miriam, sadly. 
 
 "So you acknowledge it, the more shame to 
 you!" cried the young man. "Ah, Miriam, how I 
 have loved you, how I have toiled to honor you! 
 See, yonder stands your future husband, watching 
 you. Go home, go home and forget that a runaway 
 thief, the son of a thief, dies this day! What is 
 this Adnah to you, with his iron collar of shame 
 about his evil neck ? " 
 
 Miriam s eyes wandered towards the wealthy 
 Sadducee who stood not far away, stroking his 
 snowy beard. The tears rushed to her eyes, and 
 she buried her face in her hands. 
 
 "Now you relent," cried Reuben, " now you are 
 restored to your senses! You never loved me, 
 Miriam, as I loved you. You were always cold and 
 selfish, thinking only of your own pleasure. But 
 these tears sue for you. Go home, and all shall be 
 forgiven!" 
 
 "Reuben," said Miriam gently, "I weep be 
 cause your words part us, not forever, I pray, 
 but until they are forgotten. I must not see 
 you again, Reuben, till the hand of God has 
 wiped from my memory your words concerning 
 Adnah."
 
 282 Adnah 
 
 " On with you! " cried the merry soldier, pushing 
 Reuben forward with an impatient hand. 
 
 "Father," said Miriam, her eyes again wandering 
 towards the amphitheatre, "oh, can there be a 
 chance for Adnah ? " 
 
 "No, Miriam, there is no hope for him." 
 
 "Are you angry because I love him with all my 
 heart?" 
 
 "Angry, dear one?" repeated Joel, his voice 
 breaking with a sob. 
 
 "You will not be displeased with me ? " she mur 
 mured; "you will not chide me, father, because 
 my heart is broken ? You will not have hard 
 thoughts of me, if I can never be what I was be 
 fore ? " 
 
 She paused as there rolled from the amphitheatre 
 a mighty peal of laughter. The sound of unre 
 strained mirth brought the passers-by to a sudden 
 halt. "Still the world can laugh!" whispered 
 Miriam. 
 
 "Take heart, Miriam," said old Zuph, stroking 
 her hand, " remember you are not one of the com 
 mon folk. The vulgar herd should never see tears 
 in these noble eyes! " 
 
 " I cannot give up hope! " cried Miriam, catching 
 her father s arm violently. "Still they laugh. It 
 comes as a message, bidding us be of good cheer.
 
 The Watchers 283 
 
 There must be a way! Gothinus has promised 
 to do what he can for Adnah. Gothinus loves 
 Adnah."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 MUST ADNAH DIE ? 
 
 THE day of the games was the fifth since the im 
 prisonment of Adnah. Every morning Gothinus 
 had applied at the palace for admission to Pilate. 
 He felt that Adnah s fate rested upon himself, and 
 that through some remarkable turn of circum 
 stances, he might be able to save the prisoner. It 
 had been necessary to state, the first morning, the 
 object of his visit, and Pilate, who had no desire to 
 lose one of his combatants, thereby losing a chance 
 of sport, was too busy to see Gothinus. 
 
 On the second day, Gothinus, when politely re 
 fused entrance, for, as the valued officer of Lucius 
 the centurion, he was entitled to respect, sent a 
 letter to Pilate. It contained a note from his mas 
 ter, showing that the mule had been lent by the 
 Roman to the Jew, and that the charge of stealing 
 was a conspiracy. In his letter Gothinus explained 
 that Iddo was guilty of the crime for which Adnah s 
 father was now in slavery. Had Gothinus known 
 that Adnah s father was Sextus the gladiator, he 
 would have been still more perplexed by the tangle
 
 Must Adnah Die? 285 
 
 of circumstances. Pilate paid no attention to this 
 letter. He cared not if Adnah were innocent, or 
 guilty; the prisoner had been brought with trouble 
 and expense from Sicily, and to set him at liberty, 
 for whatever reason, would be a serious loss. 
 
 When Gothinus appeared at the palace gates the 
 third day, Pilate was annoyed by the information. 
 He foresaw the worry of excuses and the trouble of 
 explanations, if he did not defend himself. Ac 
 cordingly, he sent word to the importunate friend of 
 Adnah that if a written confession was brought him 
 from Iddo, declaring the innocence of Adnah and of 
 Adnah s father, the Jew should be set at liberty. 
 Pilate could well afford to make such a promise, for 
 he believed Iddo dead. 
 
 After a painful search, Gothinus discovered the 
 dungeon where Iddo had first been confined; but 
 he could not learn whence he had been removed, 
 and no information was vouchsafed him at the 
 palace. The day of the combats was now come; 
 and the German, ill from days of toil and sleepless 
 nights, found all his exertions useless. He mingled 
 with the restless crowd which circled about the 
 amphitheatre long before the time of its cruel 
 sports. In spite of himself, he found a new 
 thought stirring in his mind, a thought which 
 brought a swift, wild joy, followed by a stinging
 
 286 Adnah 
 
 pain. It was the thought that he had done all he 
 could for Adnah, yet Adnah must die, and then, 
 and then, at last, when Miriam had forgotten the 
 unfortunate Jew, - 
 
 As the soldiers compelled him to move on, for 
 in his abstraction, he made no effort to keep him 
 self distinct from the turbulent Jews, his thoughts 
 dwelt upon the years that were gone. There came 
 vividly to his mind the night when he leaped into 
 the sea to save Reuben. That was for Miriam s 
 sake. He had told her, " I ask no more than to die 
 for you." Did she ever think of those words? 
 Had she ever suspected his secret? It had been his 
 duty to guard it from her heart, for Adnah s sake, 
 for the sake of his own promise; for he had prom 
 ised to do all he could for Adnah. He felt that he 
 had been true to his trust. During those three long 
 years, while the fate of the Jew was hidden in dark 
 ness, and no one save Miriam expected to see the 
 slave s return, that had still been his constant 
 thought: not that he might live happy in her love, 
 but that he might die for her. Never till this day 
 had the dream of his own happiness been allowed 
 to linger in his thoughts. 
 
 "Adnah must die." Gothinus spoke the words 
 aloud, and when his voice ceased, they spoke them 
 selves in his brain. He had done all he could for
 
 Must Adnah Die? 287 
 
 the unfortunate, he had even sent him to Miriam, 
 the hardest duty of all! He had assured him of 
 Miriam s affection; he had risked his life as a pledge 
 for that of the runaway. All had been in vain; 
 Adnah must die. And then ? 
 
 And then, perhaps, some reward for years of 
 fidelity, some paying back on the debt of a life of 
 care and loneliness. No one could ever know how 
 lonely had been this stranger in a strange land, no 
 one but such another, torn from the proud home of 
 a chieftain, to become a slave. He had been fortu 
 nate in such a master as Lucius. He had been 
 blessed by the friendship of such a maiden as 
 Miriam. She had prayed for him, that he might 
 always be her friend. Was it the part of her friend 
 to desire to become something more ? His hand 
 sought his bosom and drew forth a coin; it was 
 the shekel her hand had placed in his, that night on 
 Galilee. He kissed it, and his deep blue eyes grew 
 luminous. The light of a great tenderness suffused 
 his face. 
 
 But must Adnah die ? Since Iddo was Pilate s 
 prisoner, he would probably be forced into the 
 gladiatorial matches; in that case, he would be 
 crowded with the others in the small cells under 
 the amphitheatre, situated to the right of the cages 
 where the wild beasts were imprisoned. Gothinus
 
 288 Adnah 
 
 had made no attempt to gain admittance to the 
 prisoners. 
 
 He had not done all he could for Adnah. In 
 truth, he had not thought of this plan. Was it 
 the kissing of Miriam s shekel which had brought a 
 chance for Miriam ? In the coming of this new 
 hope, Gothinus smothered the dream which had lit 
 love-lamps in his eyes. An old look of care and re 
 solve settled upon his face. There was no time to 
 be lost, now, in circling about the vast building. 
 He quickly disengaged himself from the throng and 
 bent his steps towards the New Palace. 
 
 It was still early, and Pilate had not set forth for 
 the games; but his soldiers were forming the escort, 
 and the great court was a scene of activity. Un 
 daunted by the unseasonableness of his visit, the 
 German sent in a letter to the procurator, craving 
 admittance to the gladiators, and permission to 
 speak privately with Iddo, the Pharisee. Pilate 
 found it easy to accede to this petition, thereby 
 strengthening the tie between him and his centur 
 ion; and, cold and impassive as he was, he could 
 not restrain a smile as he wrote the permission. 
 
 Gothinus carried the parchment with rapid strides 
 to the rear of the amphitheatre, whose small doors 
 were closely guarded by Roman soldiers. 
 
 "Why, look you, friend," said the captain, after
 
 Must Adnah Die? 289 
 
 reading the order, "if you would speak privately 
 with Iddo, go seek a new witch of Endor, for it 
 was thus your King Saul, as I have been told, held 
 converse with the dead." 
 
 Gothinus shrank back as from a blow. " Is Iddo 
 dead ? " he faltered. 
 
 "As dead as any Jew," was the reply. "This 
 Iddo was considered some great one by his swine- 
 hating, spoil-sport tribe, and Pilate, by my shrewd 
 guess, had no mind to stir up the people by a new 
 crucifixion. Gothinus, you have heard of the fel 
 low Adnah, Iddo s nephew ? I remember you once 
 staked your life upon his return to captivity. It 
 was Iddo who caused Adnah s downfall, and we 
 were ordered to shut them up in the same dungeon, 
 Iddo securely bound, but the young man free to 
 tear his enemy to pieces. The water was turned 
 upon them, that he who did not climb to the ceil 
 ing, might be drowned. Thus Iddo perished, if 
 not by Adnah s fingers, then by the water. But in 
 truth, I doubt not Iddo fell a victim to the revenge 
 of Adnah. If it did not happen so, then, by my 
 sword! there is no spirit in the Jew s body." 
 
 "Iddo is dead!" Gothinus repeated, still dazed 
 by this unexpected news. Suddenly he under 
 stood the irony of Pilate s promise. He added with 
 conviction, " And Adnah must surely die!"
 
 290 Adnah 
 
 "Surely," returned the captain, "for who can 
 overcome our Sextus ? Not such a weak, emaciated 
 slave, half-starved, and wholly untrained! Take 
 heart, Gothinus, not a dog-Jew of the pack will be 
 left to bark against Rome." 
 
 As the hours passed by, and day drew towards 
 evening, Gothinus, ever mingling with the restless 
 crowd, at last discovered Miriam with her father 
 and old Zuph, standing behind the merry soldier. 
 Miriam s eyes were strained upon the amphitheatre, 
 and the tragedy written in her face, wrecked for 
 ever his evanescent hope of love. She was not 
 for him, though Adnah die. This knowledge did 
 not spur him to greater exertions, because he had 
 done all he could, but it caused him to rage against 
 his impotence. He drew near, for misfortune drives 
 men together as flocks and herds are huddled be 
 fore a northern blast. They did not see him. He 
 had not the heart to impose himself upon Miriam s 
 sorrow, yet it seemed that he could not leave her in 
 this bitter hour. 
 
 While he paused, a soldier ran up with a face of 
 distress. "Quintilius! Quintilius! " he cried to the 
 merry soldier, " we are undone! The gladi 
 ator s brother has been carried to the amphi 
 theatre." 
 
 " Impossible! " retorted the merry soldier. " He
 
 Must Adnah Die? 291 
 
 was given special and private death at the hands of 
 his nephew." 
 
 "But his body is not to be found in the dun 
 geon," cried the other in a voice of alarm. " This 
 morning the wardens collected all prisoners from 
 the dungeons to swell the list. I did not look them 
 over, believing Iddo drowned or slain by his enemy. 
 But his body is not to be found. Now comes one 
 who remembers dragging forth both a young man, 
 and a man spent beyond his prime! He tells me 
 the older of the wretches bore heavy chains." 
 
 "Then how did he escape drowning, comrade?" 
 
 "The young man did hold him up out of the 
 reach of water, every time we sent them a bath. 
 It could have been in no other manner." 
 
 The merry soldier laughed. "Iddo was the fel 
 low s deadly enemy. Fear not! Adnah would not 
 so comfort his villainous old uncle in his arms! " 
 
 " But he is gone, I tell you; he is in the amphi 
 theatre. Sextus will confront him and instantly 
 recognize Iddo as his brother. Then he will know 
 Adnah to be his son. He will refuse to wrestle 
 with them; then the master of the games will slay 
 him. Pilate will lose his gladiator, and we shall 
 be blamed! " 
 
 " We? Nay, you alone, comrade! My part of the 
 affair ended when I caged the two rats together.
 
 292 Adnah 
 
 Make no stir, now, for it is too late for anything 
 but regrets. Home with you, and enjoy them to 
 your fill. The games are by this time nearly ended. 
 Doubtless Sextus has already lost his head from re 
 fusing to engage his precious brother! " 
 
 Gothinus waited to hear no more. Dizzy from 
 what he had learned, and tortured by the thought 
 that he might be too late, he forced his way 
 through the people, and rushed with extended 
 hands, as if half-blinded, toward the doors that 
 opened upon the vomitories at the rear of the 
 amphitheatre.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE GLADIATOR S LAST STRUGGLE 
 
 ALL eyes in the vast amphitheatre were directed 
 toward one spot in the blood-soaked arena, while 
 a breathless silence pervaded the building. The 
 drama of mockery and despair was drawing to an 
 end. The wild beasts had strewn the sands with 
 the mangled limbs of slaves. Then Sextus the 
 gladiator had become the hero of the day. It was 
 his part of the day s amusement to wrestle with 
 twenty prisoners; he who should cast him upon 
 the ground was promised liberty; and he whom 
 Sextus should throw was promised death. As 
 Gothinus entered the amphitheatre, bearing a letter 
 for Pilate, Sextus was engaged with his eighteenth 
 antagonist. 
 
 Gothinus received a stern rebuke when he urged 
 that he be conducted at once to Pilate, who occupied 
 the seat of state, near the wooden rollers which 
 protected the mouth of the bloody enclosure. 
 Gothinus insisted that a life hung upon a moment s 
 delay. He was savagely silenced. When the pres 
 ent match was ended, he might go forward; but 
 
 293
 
 294 Adnah 
 
 to break the delicious tension of this match by pass 
 ing between the tiers of benches would be worse 
 than criminal. It was not enough that the spec 
 tators should witness the rush of blood and the 
 tearing of flesh; the lions had gratified that ardent 
 craving. It was now necessary that skill and un 
 certainty should add zest to slaughter. Gothinus 
 did not feel the humiliation that a Jew would have 
 experienced in this desecration of holy ground, but 
 neither had he a Roman s thirst for cruel sports. 
 His heart revolted as his eyes swept the upper seats, 
 filled with gaily dressed women, who leaned for 
 ward breathless, their lips parted in rapturous sus 
 pense. Romans from Czeserea, Herodium and even 
 far away Italy, made up the countless audience, 
 while a sprinkling of priests of Jupiter, Apollo and 
 Minerva, gave a religious seasoning to the whole. 
 
 Gothinus, after sweeping the building with im 
 patient eyes, looked down upon the arena. Sextus 
 and a gigantic Thracian stood with arms locked 
 about each other s waists, their bare limbs motion 
 less. Apparently they were resting, or had just 
 fallen forward in friendly embrace. In reality they 
 were in the throes of a deadly struggle. As Gothi 
 nus strained his eyes, even from his distant position 
 at the entrance he could see the muscles knot them 
 selves upon the naked arms.
 
 The Gladiator s Last Struggle 295 
 
 Sextus was weary. At first it had been an easy 
 matter to cast his opponent headlong upon the 
 sands, there to be dispatched by one of the masters 
 of the games, who in red uniform, even now 
 stood waiting to slay him who should fall. But 
 among the seventeen who had gone before, not a 
 few had been men of powerful build, and if less 
 skilful than a trained gladiator, nevertheless en 
 dowed with prodigal strength; and each of the sev 
 enteen had been strengthened by the lust of liberty 
 and the despair of death. But every time Sextus 
 hurled a foe upon the ground, he realized that it meant 
 nothing to him but a longer captivity. Now, as he 
 found it necessary to exert all his strength to pre 
 serve his equilibrium, the thought came, Why 
 not fall and receive dismissal from a life of bond 
 age ? Defeat must come some time. He believed 
 Adnah enjoying the honors of Herod s court, and Iddo 
 a man of authority among his people. What was 
 there to live for ? Yes, he would relax his grasp, 
 and suffer himself to be overcome. 
 
 But as he found his form swayed in the Thracian s 
 arms, his old instinct for mastery rushed upon him, 
 and his purpose was forgotten. The deathlike si 
 lence was a voice bidding him maintain the prestige 
 of his name. He knew all eyes were upon him, 
 and like a spur to a weary steed, came the memory
 
 296 Adnah 
 
 of former applause. To hear the air rent with mad 
 shouts of congratulation, was not that worth the 
 price of living ? He thirsted for the applause which 
 he, though a slave, could force from the lips of free 
 Romans. 
 
 As Gothinus, fascinated, stared down upon the 
 still picture, he saw it move. One of the Thracian s 
 legs was forced backward. A step was lost, and 
 that step meant a life. The vast concourse sighed 
 in the intensity of its excitement, and the breath 
 sounded like the rushing of a wind over the un 
 covered building. Another moment and the air 
 was rent with shouts and acclaims. 
 
 "Sextus! Sextus! Long life!" TheThracianlay 
 upon his back, while a master of the arena stood with 
 one foot upon the heaving bosom, his sword at the 
 neck from which the sweat rolled. The Roman looked 
 up, to see if mercy sat in the benches. There was 
 a flashing of innumerable jeweled hands, like the 
 rippling of sunbeams from the women s benches 
 to the seat of Pilate. Every thumb was turned 
 down. The sword descended, and the Thracian 
 quivered and lay dead. Sextus stood with folded 
 arms upon his broad bare breast, breathing rapidly, 
 but ready for his next antagonist. The applause 
 had renewed his strength. 
 
 Gothinus, who had been compelled to wait for
 
 The Gladiator s Last Struggle 297 
 
 this moment, now hurried down one of the long 
 aisles, and making his way to the guard who sur 
 rounded Pilate, presented his letter. During the in 
 termission in the sports, the audience laughed and 
 talked, and the waves of sound rolled like billows 
 muffled upon the sands. In that letter was Iddo s 
 confession, which Gothinus had without difficulty 
 obtained from the doomed man. Upon Pilate s 
 reading of the letter depended Adnah s fate and the 
 happiness of Miriam, and the end of the dream of 
 Gothinus. 
 
 Leisurely and with his impenetrable look upon 
 his cold and handsome face, the procurator 
 opened the parchment, after one brief disquieted 
 glance at the messenger. Gothinus kept his eyes 
 upon the Roman s face, while the supreme moment 
 brought back the dizziness that had seized him upon 
 learning that Iddo still lived. He did not see what 
 was going forward in the arena. Suddenly the air 
 was shaken by a mighty laugh. It seemed that every 
 voice in the building had found a note of merri 
 ment. Even the shrill laughter from the highest 
 benches made itself heard in sharp, broken frag 
 ments of ironic mirth. Pilate, who had begun to 
 read, laid the letter upon his knee and looked 
 below. 
 
 The last of the twenty prisoners had been brought
 
 298 Adnah 
 
 in together. They were a middle-aged man, and 
 one of younger years, both clothed in miserable 
 rags, which were wet and grimy from the dungeon, 
 and through which their thin limbs were visible. 
 The elder could scarcely stand, and red scars showed 
 where iron bands had lain with cruel weight. 
 The younger was erect, and sure of foot, but very 
 weak. His long unkempt hair fell about his face, 
 and he made no effort to brush it back. Gothinus 
 groaned. Here were Iddo and Adnah, and Iddo s 
 confession still unread. 
 
 " My lord!" cried Gothinus falling upon his knees 
 before the procurator, "your promise! Read, O, 
 read the confession of Iddo! " 
 
 Pilate silenced him with a haughty gesture, his 
 eyes intent upon the strange scene. Adnah in his 
 dress of wild skins with the iron collar of a thief 
 about his neck, stood staring upon the sands, as if 
 he saw no honor and no hope in its writing of 
 blood. Sextus, with arms still folded upon his 
 hairy breast, grinned at the miserable figures, then 
 looked up at the spectators to answer their laughter 
 with a broad smile. Suddenly the young man 
 stepped forward to encounter the gladiator, his 
 eyes still downcast; for he knew this was his 
 father, whose memory had sweetened bitter days; 
 and it was his purpose to fall unrecognized in that
 
 The Gladiator s Last Struggle 299 
 
 embrace. Still smiling, Sextus threw his burly 
 arms about the other, and looked over at the twen 
 tieth prisoner, shouting a jovial promise to soon 
 come to his arms. But the next moment the light 
 died from the gladiator s face; he had recognized 
 his brother. With an inarticulate cry he sprang 
 back, and clutched at the air as if about to fall. 
 
 " Iddo! " he cried. The Pharisee made, no reply. 
 He had promised Adnah to keep the secret of their 
 identity. Sextus glared upon the wretched form in 
 speechless amazement. Then moved by a sudden 
 thought, he turned upon the young man, and seiz 
 ing his chin, threw back his head and gazed in 
 tently upon his face. The laughter of the throng 
 died away, and a feeling half of awe, half of im 
 patience, swept from heart to heart. 
 
 Gothinus, still upon his knees, raised his clasped 
 hands toward Pilate crying, "Read, read, READ!" 
 
 Suddenly the gladiator threw his arms about 
 Adnah, and lifting him from the ground in a close 
 embrace, kissed him. Then he turned to those 
 whose applause had been so sweet to him, and held 
 out his arms as if he would embrace their feet for 
 mercy. 
 
 First came a shock of indignant surprise. Then 
 rose the fierce cry, "Death! death!" The delay 
 had aroused with fresher fury their thirst for a sight
 
 300 Adnah 
 
 of blood. They saw Sextus and Adnah whispering 
 in hurried tones, while the young man violently 
 shook his head, and the other as resolutely nodded 
 his purpose. The tumult in the audience grew 
 more rife and Pilate, as if to show himself insensi 
 ble to all emotions, again began to read the letter. 
 
 Suddenly Sextus seized the young prisoner, and 
 for a moment swayed him back and forth, as if in 
 equal contest, then fell as if thrown by Adnah, and 
 clutching his son s foot, held it upon his breast. 
 Adnah in an agony of grief, sank upon his other 
 knee, imploring his father to rise. But the gladia 
 tor, holding the foot upon his bosom, turned his 
 eyes towards those who had so often hailed his 
 triumphs, and begged for mercy. The spectators, 
 furious at this termination of the match, screamed 
 in derision. The executioner who strode forward, 
 looked up with a scornful smile, anticipating the 
 fate of Sextus. 
 
 The spectators angrily turned down their thumbs, 
 as if pointing Sextus to his grave. 
 
 Then the executioner wheeled about and his ter 
 rible sword descended, and the blood of the 
 Romans danced in mad joy to see blood as warm 
 and as full of life as that in their own veins, gush 
 out upon the reeking sands. It was such moments 
 of fierce delight that paid them for being Romans.
 
 The Gladiator s Last Struggle 301 
 
 For it is good to be alive and strong, when one 
 looks upon death. But the blood which stained the 
 arena was not that of the gladiator. He had been 
 saved by a form springing between his prostrate 
 body and the flashing blade of the executioner. 
 
 The corpse of him who had given his life for 
 Sextus was dragged aside without pity, and the 
 executioner, impatient of delay, glanced hastily up, 
 shaking the red drops from his hands. At that 
 moment Pilate, who had finished reading the con 
 fession, arose.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 IDDO S VICTORY 
 
 THERE was the sound of the vast audience rising 
 and moving towards the arched entrances of the 
 amphitheatre. The day of sports was ended. 
 Those who stood on the street in the rear, fastened 
 their eyes upon the low doors, through which cap 
 tives had been dragged to the arena, and through 
 which the corpses of those thrown by the wrestler 
 would presently be borne. Among these watchers 
 were the curious, who had not been able to com 
 mand the price of admission; the hypocritical, 
 who, because of connection with the Jews, pre 
 tended to despise Roman games; and a few friends 
 of the victims. The soldiers allowed the people to 
 stand, for the dangerous element had melted before 
 the approaching scene of horror. Those inclined 
 towards revolution had hurried to the main roads, 
 to glare upon the foreigners returning from their 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Miriam," said her father suddenly, " close your 
 eyes. The rear of the amphitheatre has been 
 thrown open, and death comes this way." 
 
 "That is the first corpse," said old Zuph. "Some 
 302
 
 Iddo s Victory 303 
 
 Thracian, I think, though it is difficult to tell, since 
 his head, most horrible! " 
 
 Miriam clung to her father and buried her face 
 upon his breast. "You are sure it is not it is 
 not ?" 
 
 "Be assured," Joel answered, "it is not he." 
 
 There was a groan from the watchers, and the 
 maiden whispered, "Another?" 
 
 "Yes, two. . . . Five. . . . Six. . . ." 
 
 "You will tell me, father, when Adnah is 
 brought forth ? " 
 
 "Yes, dear one." 
 
 " I have waited while he passed from life to Life," 
 murmured Miriam. "I will look upon him in his 
 death. I shall always know that one who loved 
 him stood near in his time of agony. . . . That 
 will be a sweet thought, some day. . . . Is it 
 growing dark?" 
 
 "Eleven," said old Zuph, " twelve." 
 
 "Father I am growing faint. Support me. 
 Oh! if I should swoon while he is being borne 
 along! My brain seems turning round. If I . . . 
 If I fall, do you look upon him, father, and give him 
 a last look of love." 
 
 "Miriam," cried Zuph, helping to support her, 
 "remember that you are the daughter of a noble 
 man! "
 
 304 Adnah 
 
 The air was broken by tumultuous shouts: 
 "Long life! long life to Sextus! Long life to our 
 gladiator! " 
 
 "As Jupiter reigns!" shouted the merry soldier 
 in a stentorian voice, relief adding force to his high 
 note, "Sextus survives though his son stood him 
 face to face in the arena! " 
 
 "It is the gladiator!" cried Zuph, staring at an 
 approaching form. "But who walks with him? 
 
 Canitbe Look, Miriam, look! Hide no longer 
 
 your eyes! " 
 
 " It is Adnah! " said Joel, his voice breaking. 
 
 "Sextus is his father," observed the merry sol 
 dier. "Ho, ho! maiden, is Adnah the lover for 
 whom you came to mourn ? See how erect and 
 proud his head, as he walks beside his new-found 
 father!" 
 
 "Adnah lives!" said Joel in a choking voice. 
 " Miriam, can you bear this sudden joy ?" 
 
 In truth the shock was almost more than she could 
 endure. Her fair head fell upon his shoulder, and 
 for a time it seemed that they must place her upon the 
 ground. 
 
 "Father and son," murmured Joel to himself; 
 " father and son, both alive and well. . . . Ah, 
 Reuben, Reuben! " 
 
 "Miriam," said Zuph coaxingly, "they draw
 
 Iddo s Victory 305 
 
 near. Have a brave heart. Courage, Miriam, 
 stand firm! Remember your degree! " 
 
 "Zuph!" faltered Miriam, lifting her head, "I 
 could not love you better, were I a slave." With 
 one arm about her father s neck, and the other hand 
 resting upon the old slave s shoulder, she faced the 
 road. 
 
 There they came, Adnah from whose neck the 
 iron band had been struck, and simple-hearted Sam 
 uel, Sextus the gladiator, never more. A cloak 
 had been thrown about the young man, and as he 
 moved along, his arm about his father, he possessed 
 an air of gentle majesty which suited well the radi 
 ant glow of his eyes. 
 
 Miriam called, " Adnah ! " 
 
 Adnah stood still. " Listen, my father," he said, 
 "My other Father has sent me a voice. Did you 
 hear it ? Whence came my name in that tone ? 
 Heaven has been about me all this day and look! 
 there, there is the angel!" He dragged Samuel 
 towards the spot where the merry soldier guarded 
 the road. 
 
 " Now," said Miriam to her father with a look of 
 angelic tenderness,"! can stand alone!" She 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " Miriam ! " said Adnah in a broken voice, looking 
 at her with heaving breast, helpless to utter another
 
 306 Adnah 
 
 word, unable even to advance. Her form seemed 
 illuminated by an inward light, and he thought her an 
 angel, indeed, the angel of hope which had come to 
 him in his desolate childhood. He seemed to see 
 beyond her fair face and tremulous smile, Sicily for 
 a background, the sheep in the wild meadows, 
 the faithful dog, the lonely path that wound up the 
 mountainside, the desolate hut with its couch of 
 sodden straw. A sense of her virgin purity and of 
 the darkness through which he had struggled, held 
 him to the spot as if a great gulf lay between them. 
 
 "Oh, Adnah, I am so glad, so happy, what can 
 I say, a simple maiden who lacks all knowledge! 
 If I could tell you ! I came to look upon a corpse, 
 your corpse, Adnah! And you are so strong and 
 tall and well and walking beside your father, 
 Adnah, I could kiss you for my very joy . . . 
 and for my very love!" 
 
 " I will not say I am too unworthy," faltered the 
 young man, pale from happiness, "since I, too, am 
 a child of God." He kissed her. 
 
 Samuel turned to Zuph; "I have but found my 
 son, see how he deserts me." 
 
 "I like this," said the merry soldier. "Sweet 
 love blesses the day. It is like incense to the gods. 
 But maiden, hide your eyes; here comes another 
 corpse, surely, the last."
 
 Iddo s Victory 307 
 
 "Nay, Miriam," cried Adnah reverently, "hide 
 not your eyes. Let all turn and look upon Iddo as 
 he is borne past upon my uncle who wronged my 
 father, but who expiated his crime in the arena. 
 He threw his body between the sword and my 
 father s heart. This is for him no dismal funeral, 
 but a procession of triumph. There lies a great 
 conqueror; he subdued himself." 
 
 "Poor, erring brother!" murmured Samuel, the 
 tears streaming down his face. He found himself 
 still unable to comprehend Iddo s real life. 
 
 "There is a smile upon his face," observed the 
 merry soldier. " I never saw such a death-smile! " 
 
 "Brave Iddo!" Adnah exclaimed. "He tri 
 umphed over his evil nature. Death is glorious 
 when it breathes upon a man and changes him to a 
 hero." 
 
 They stood silently with bowed heads till Iddo 
 had been carried past. Then Adnah looked up sud 
 denly, saying, " But where is Gothinus ? " 
 
 Zuph muttered to himself, " At least this Adnah 
 is a Jew ! " The old slave was the only one who had 
 divined the secret of Gothinus. Since Adnah s pov 
 erty and low estate could not but displease the jeal 
 ous old man, he found what comfort he could in the 
 nationality of Miriam s lover. 
 
 Miriam looked towards the amphitheatre and saw
 
 308 Adnah 
 
 a young man suddenly turn his head from her direc 
 tion, as if he had been watching her. 
 
 " There he is! " cried Adnah excitedly, following 
 the direction of her eyes. " It was he who caused 
 Iddo to write Pilate the letter which saved our lives. 
 As soon as my uncle was slain Pilate arose and read 
 it aloud, and gave my father and me our liberty. 
 We could not believe Gothinus able to gain the ear 
 of the procurator. And now we have forgotten 
 him! " 
 
 Adnah raised his voice and called, " Gothinus!" 
 
 The tall northerner looked over the heads of the 
 intervening crowd, and smiled with wonderful 
 sweetness. 
 
 "Adnah!" exclaimed Miriam, " see how he loves 
 you! " 
 
 THE END
 
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