“Things are growing worse and worse; only three customers yesterday, and not a single one to-day, though it must be at least an hour past noon. One would think that all the world had become Nazarites. Then, though there is next to nothing coming in, there is no stop to the going out. First comes the rascally tax-gatherer, and squeezes one as dry as a grape-skin in a press. And if, by chance, there happens to be a drop left, some snuffling priest is sure to turn up, and talk about one’s duty as a patriot and a Jew till he drags the last shekel out of one.”
The speaker was one Shallum, a Benjamite, who kept a little wine-shop in the Lower City. When he had finished his grumble, he thrust his hand into an empty wine-jar, drew from it a little leathern bag, untied the string which was round the neck, poured out the scanty contents on the counter and counted them. He knew the amount perfectly well, for he [pg 102]had gone through the counting process at least ten times before that day. But when a man is desperately anxious to make two ends meet, he will measure them again and again, though he may know exactly by how much they are too short.
“Twelve shekels and ten annas! And old Nahum will be here to-morrow, asking for his thirty shekels!”
Nahum was a Lebanon wine-grower, whose long-suffering had been already tried to the utmost by the delays of the impecunious Shallum.
At this moment his meditations were interrupted by the entrance of two visitors, who had been standing, listening and watching outside the door. They were traders in a small way, who had migrated from Joppa when they heard that Greek wares were becoming the fashion in Jerusalem.
“Ho! Shallum,” cried one of them, “two cups of your best Lebanon; and make haste, for we have important business on hand.”
“Shall I draw some water fresh from the well? This is a little too warm to be used.”
“Water!” said the man. “Jew, don’t blaspheme. Mix water with our wine to-day, of all days in the year!”
“And why not to-day?” said Shallum.
“Because it is the feast of Dionysus, the wine-giver; and it would be the grossest impiety to profane his bounty with any mixture of meaner [pg 103]things. Commonly his godship winks at human weakness; but to-day it is different. May he confound me if I do him such dishonour!”
“He will certainly confound you if you drink this heady wine undiluted,” muttered Shallum to himself, as he set the two cups before his guests.
“Excellent! excellent!” cried Lycon, the elder of the two Greeks, as he set down his goblet, half empty. “But why the god vouchsafes such capital drink to these unbelieving dogs of Jews puzzles me beyond expression.”
His companion broke out into a drinking-song:
Shallum was fairly tolerant, as indeed a tavern-keeper can hardly fail to be, of the ways and manners of his customers; but to hear this praise of a false god, one of the odious demons that were worshipped by the heathen, was too much for his patience. He muttered a curse under his breath, and emphasized this expression of disgust by spitting on the floor.
“Don’t talk to me of your gods and goddesses!” cried Shallum, goaded beyond all endurance, “a [pg 104]lewd, drunken crew that no respectable person would have anything to do with!”
“Come, my friend,” said the Greek, “this is not the sort of talk which one expects to hear from a loyal subject of the pious Antiochus. We Greeks are not such bigots as you are, cursing every man, woman, or child that does not go exactly in our own way; but you must treat us and our belongings with respect. We are not going to have barbarians scoffing at what we think fit to worship. I have heard of men being crucified for less than you have said to-day. But hearken, Shallum, we did not come here to-day to quarrel with you. You are a good fellow, after all, and keep as capital a tap of wine as any that I know, King Tmolus7 only excepted. We want you to come with us and have a jolly day. What is the good of quarrelling about words? You and we are quite agreed that there is something in wine that makes it one of the finest things under the sun. Suppose that we choose to call that something Dionysus the Wine-god, and you choose to say that your god has to do with it, what is the difference? We are really agreed. It is the goodness in wine that we both like, and I’m sure that a really honest fellow like you, that we can always rely on to give us the right stuff, should be [pg 105]the first to acknowledge it. Well, can’t we show an agreement? That is why we want you to come with us. A whole crowd of your countrymen are coming, I understand. It will be a pretty sight, and there will be some of the finest music that you ever heard, and dancing, and fun of all kinds, and, of course, as much wine as ever you want. Of course you will come, my dear Shallum?”
“I come?” growled the wine-seller. “Not I! What do I care about your dancing and singing? And as for wine, I can have as much as I want at home, and better stuff, too, than any that I am likely to get elsewhere.”
Lycon, who was evidently bent on getting his way, did not suffer his good humour to be disturbed by the Jew’s churlishness. “Ah!” said he, “that reminds me. Stupid fellow that I am, I quite forgot the matter of business that really brought me here. To tell the truth, business and this old Lebanon don’t very well agree. But listen; Neocles, who is manager-in-chief of the whole festival, has quite made up his mind to have your wine, and none but yours, for all the better sort of people. He was to get some skins for the common folks from Zadok—do you know him?”
“Know him?” said Shallum; “I should think I did—hasn’t got a drop of sound wine in his shop.”
“So the Chief said. But we were to come to you for the good wine. What can you let us have? [pg 106]Mind that it must be the very best. We were not to haggle about the price, Neocles said, so long as we got it really good.”
And Lycon pulled out of his pocket a money-bag that was evidently much better furnished than Shallum’s lean and hunger-bitten purse. Untying the neck, he poured into his hand, with an air of careless profusion, some ten or twelve gold pieces.
Shallum’s keen eyes glistened at the sight. Here was enough to pay not only Nahum but all his creditors, and leave him a handsome sum over wherewith to tide over the hard times. His somewhat brusque manner changed in a moment. He was now the most obsequious of tradesmen.
“Everything in my stores is at your disposal. And I have a better wine than this in my cellar, and only ten shekels a skin,” he went on, adding about three to the utmost he expected to get. “But wait a moment, gentlemen, you shall taste it for yourselves.”
He took a small flagon from beneath the counter and disappeared. The two Greeks smiled to each other. “We have the fish fast,” one of them said; “after all there is nothing like a golden bait.”
Shallum shortly reappeared with the wine, which was tasted and approved.
“Well,” said Lycon, “we will say ten skins of this at ten shekels a piece, and five of the other sort at eight—that is the price; is it not?”
[pg 107]Shallum nodded assent. As a matter of fact he would never have expected more than seven. But if these Greeks were so free with their money why should not an honest Jew have the benefit of it?
“Of course you will come with us?” said Lycon.
“You may take my word for it, there will be nothing to offend you.”
Shallum hesitated for a moment, and then muttered an unwilling “Yes.”
“And you won’t mind wearing this little twig of ivy, just twisted round your head? It means nothing—every one does it.”
This was more than the wretched man was prepared for. “Not I,” he said; “I am not going to wear any of your idolatrous ornaments.”
Lycon put the money-bag into his pocket again. “Then, my dear Shallum, I am afraid we shall not be able to do any business. ‘Give and take’ is our motto. We put a nice little bargain in your way; and you must humour us. However, if you are obstinate, there must be an end of it. I dare say Zadok can find us what we want. Come, Callicles,” he went on, turning to his companion, “we must be going.”
Shallum saw his dreams of deliverance from his money-troubles vanishing into air, and grew desperate. “Stop,” he said to his guests, “let me think for a moment. You won’t ask me to do anything else. A few leaves can’t make much odds [pg 108]either way. I don’t remember ever hearing anything in the Law against wearing ivy. It isn’t like eating swine’s flesh, or those detestable scaleless eels that you Greeks are so fond of. Yes, I’ll wear the thing, if you want me to so much.”
“That’s right, Shallum; I thought a sensible man like you would not throw away a good chance for a mere nothing.”
So saying, Lycon stepped outside the shop, and whistled. In a minute or so a cart, which had been waiting round the corner, was driven up. The skins of wine were stowed away in it, and the two Greeks, with Shallum between them, all wearing the ivy-wreath, took their seats, and started for the Valley of the Cheesemongers, where it had been arranged that the festival should be held.
The festival was scarcely a success, if it was meant, as it certainly was, to attract the Jewish population. A few hundreds, indeed, had been persuaded or compelled to be present. Most of them belonged to the lowest and most degraded class, wretched creatures whom any purchaser might secure for any purpose with a shekel or a flagon of wine. To-day they were “hail fellow well met” with their Greek neighbours, but to-morrow they would be perfectly ready to tear them in pieces. A few of somewhat better character had been bribed, as Shallum had been bribed, to come. These had little of the air of genuine holiday-makers. Their [pg 109]bursts of simulated gaiety did not conceal the shame which they really felt. Others, again, did not make even this pretence of hilarity. They had been actually compelled to come, and they had all the air of prisoners led in the triumphant procession of a victorious general. Their faces were ghastly pale. Some, with their teeth firmly clenched, seemed to be forcibly keeping in the curses which struggled to find utterance. Others, of a gentler temper, were weeping silently; and others, again, preserved a look of dogged indifference. The Greek part of the spectators, who could have enjoyed the humours of the scene with a good conscience, were depressed by the presence of these unwilling guests. In consequence, everything seemed to fail. The jesters, with their grotesque garb and faces hideously smeared with wine-lees, could scarcely get a laugh from their audience; the singing lacked heartiness, the dancing was dull and spiritless. It is only natural that revellers, who find the time passing slowly, should try to quicken its movement. There was little brightness or gaiety in this feast of the wine-god, and there was therefore all the more excess. Some seized the rare opportunity of intoxicating themselves without expense, while others drank to drown their shame or their anger. Shallum, whose occupation had somewhat seasoned him against the effects of wine, remained comparatively sober, but his Greek companions were less discreet [pg 110]or less strong-headed. They became, by a rapid succession of moods, boisterously gay, foolishly affectionate, and provokingly quarrelsome. It was not long before things came to a crisis. Lycon taunted the wine-seller with the quality of his wines; that did not affect him, for he was used to such complaints from his customers, and took them as part of his day’s work. He scoffed at the subjection of his nation to Greek rule; Shallum still kept his temper. The tipsy Greek was only encouraged to further insults by his companion’s self-restraint. He attempted to daub the Jew’s face with the dregs from a broken flagon. Shallum angrily shook him off, and he reeled back, just saving himself from a fall by catching at the trunk of an olive tree. “Hog of a Jew!” he cried, “do you lay hands on a free-born Greek? Come, Callicles,” he went on, turning to his companion, “let us teach the beast how to behave himself.” The two rushed at the Jew, aiming blows at his head with the staves which they carried in their hands. One of them stumbled against the stones of a ruined house, and fell so heavily that he was unable or unwilling to raise himself again. Shallum easily evaded the attack of the other, dealing him at the same time so fierce a stroke of the fist that it stretched him senseless on the ground. The deed done, he looked hastily round to see whether any spectator had witnessed it. To his great relief, he [pg 111]found himself alone. From the lower city came the sounds of furious revelry and the strains of the Bacchic chorus—
His first impulse was to tear the ivy-wreath from his head. Then he reflected that if he could endure to wear it for a few moments longer, it might serve him as a passport. The event proved that he was right. He passed unquestioned through the crowd of revellers, left the precincts of the valley, and striking on an unfrequented path, hurried on at the top of his speed, not pausing till he had put at least six miles between himself and the scene of his late adventure. Then he threw himself on the ground and bewailed his grievous fall in an agony of shame and remorse. After a while the fatigue and excitement of the day, helped by the fumes of the wine, which his rapid movements had sent to his brain, overpowered him, and he sank into a heavy sleep.
His slumbers lasted late into the day. When he woke, his head aching with the excess of the day before, he felt even more wretched, more hopeless. To return to the city was out of the question. But where was he to go? While he was debating this question with himself, and could find nothing in the [pg 112]least resembling an answer, he caught the sound of approaching footsteps. Mingled feelings of shame and fear suggested to him that he should hide himself, and he plunged into the bushes which lined the side of the road.
The traveller approached. He was a renegade Jew, and Shallum recognized him as one who had taken an active part in the festivities of the preceding day. Just as he passed Shallum’s hiding-place an unlucky impulse made him burst forth into a snatch of the Bacchic chant—
His listener heard the words with mingled feelings of disgust and rage, and leaping down into the road felled him senseless to the ground.
At first it seemed as if what he had done did not make his way plainer before him. But as he stood by the prostrate man a thought occurred to him. He took the purse which the man, in the usual traveller’s fashion, wore by way of girdle round his waist, and examined its contents. It held three gold pieces and some ten shekels. The gold he left; but half of the shekels he transferred to his own keeping. One of the shekels sufficed to purchase some bread and dried flesh at the neighbouring village. Thus recruited in strength the fugitive made his escape to the mountains.
Menander, or Micah—the young man still wavered between the two moods which were symbolized by these names—had been greatly moved, as we have said, by what he had seen and heard in his visit to his sister and her husband. But he could not shake himself free from the habits and prepossessions of years. Though he had always kept aloof from the worst excesses of his renegade and heathen friends, still his moral tone had been lowered, and even his physical nerve weakened by a frivolous and self-indulgent life. Sometimes he would half resolve to cast in his lot with his people. Sometimes, again, the cynical or doubting temper returned. What madness it would be, so the evil voice whispered to him, to sacrifice all that made life pleasant, and, very possibly, life itself, for what both philosophers and practical men of the world agreed in pronouncing to be a delusion!
[pg 114]Till this question had been settled one way or the other, he found it impossible to rest. The city became odious to him, for he shrank from the sight of his fellow-men. Indeed, he did not know with whom to associate. His Greek or Greek-loving acquaintances, with their frivolities and vices, disgusted him; and the patriots regarded him with coldness and aversion. Solitude, he fancied, might suit him better, and he went again to his country house at Lebanon. But he found himself worse off than ever where there was nothing to come between his thoughts and himself, and he hastened back to Jerusalem. Then it suddenly occurred to him that his sister had been expecting shortly to become a mother, and he made his way to her house to inquire of her welfare. Azariah himself answered his knock.
“How is Hannah?”
“Thanks be to the Lord,” replied Azariah, “she is well. She had an easy travail.”
“And the babe? A son or a daughter?”
“The Lord has given us a son.”
But he said it without the gladness that a Jewish father, newly blessed with the hope that there should be one to preserve his name in Israel, should have felt.
“But you must come in and see him, for indeed he is of a singular beauty.”
The young man followed his host into the chamber already described, and sat down to wait. Presently [pg 115]Azariah reappeared, holding the child in his arms. It was no father’s fondness that had made him speak of his singular beauty. The child was but five days old; but he had none of the “shapeless” look which is commonly to be seen in the newly born. His features were shaped with a regularity most uncommon at so tender an age, and his complexion beautifully clear, while his little head was surrounded with what may be called a halo of golden hair.
Micah was loud in his admiration. “I never saw his equal for beauty. You are indeed a happy father to have the fairest son in all Israel.”
The smile on Azariah’s face faded away.
“I would not be thankless for the ‘gift that cometh from the Lord,’ nor wanting in faith; yet I sometimes cannot but think that in these days the childless are the happiest, or, I should rather say, the least unhappy.”
“Of course you will be prudent,” said Micah, “and yield to the necessities of the time. Put off the circumcision of the child. There can be no harm in that. And when Hannah has got her strength again, you can come down to my place in the Lebanon, and it can be done quietly, without any one being the wiser.”
Azariah said nothing. He turned away his face, but not before his brother-in-law had seen his eyes fill with tears. After leaving some loving messages for his sister the young man departed, hoping, [pg 116]though not without some serious doubt, that his advice would be followed.
A week after, when the question, he knew, would have been decided one way or the other, he bent his steps again towards his sister’s house. As he walked through the streets he could see that the persecutors were busy at their work. Fires were burning here and there, and copies of the Law and the other holy books were being burned in them. From a house which he recognized as being the dwelling of a scribe of great learning, a party of Greek soldiers burst forth, as he passed, dragging behind them a richly-ornamented scroll of the Psalms. For a moment the wild impulse surged in his heart to rescue the sacred writing from the flames; but he recognized the hopelessness of the attempt; and, indeed, he sadly asked himself, was he fit to be a champion of holy things? A soldier gathered up the parchment in his arms, and tossed it in a heap on the fire. Part of it opened as it fell, and Micah saw for a few moments before the flames reached them, words which he never forgot till his dying day: “Princes have persecuted me without a cause, yet do I not swerve from Thy commandments.” As he stood and looked, with a rage in his heart which he could not express, two more soldiers came out of the house, holding between them the scribe himself, a venerable man, in whom Micah recognized an old friend of his father’s. They threw him down, face foremost, on [pg 117]the fire, and held him there till he was suffocated. But before the tragedy was finished, the young Jew had turned away, feeling in his heart that the question which he had been debating so long was being rapidly settled for him.
The blow that was to clinch his conclusions was not long in falling. As he came near the bottom of the little hill on the top of which stood his sister’s house, he saw a cross, and, bound to it by cords, what seemed to be the figure of a woman, with a dead child hung round her neck. The sun had set, and the light was failing with the rapidity that is characteristic of a southern latitude.
“Truly these Greeks have a strange way of showing their love of beauty. We have had sickening sights in Jerusalem of late enough to make their name stink in our nostrils for ever. What poor wretch is this? How has she offended our masters? And the child—what treason can he have been guilty of?”
And as he spoke a dreadful fear shot through his heart. After all—for he knew what a dauntless spirit his sister had shown at their last meeting—after all they might have circumcised the child and brought down upon themselves the vengeance of the persecutors. He turned aside from the road and ran up to the terrible object. It was almost dark by the time he reached it, and he had to light a torch which he carried with him in case of need, before he could [pg 118]see what the object really was. Then one glance was enough. The features of the woman were black and swollen; but he recognized them in a moment. It was the face of Hannah, his sister. But a month before he had seen it beaming with light and love, and now—— Had he needed any confirmation he would have found it in the child. The features were beyond recognition; but the golden halo of hair was there; its brightness scarcely dimmed.
He sank upon his knees, and lifting his hands to heaven he cursed the authors of this wickedness, and swore that he would give all his life to avenge the innocent blood. Then rising he hastened to the house of Azariah.
He found a considerable company assembled. They were deep in debate about the course of action to be pursued when Micah, who had been met by Azariah at the door, was introduced into the room. Most of those present were acquainted with him, at least by reputation, and they were naturally disposed to consider his presence an intrusion. But it was soon manifest that the new comer was not indifferent, much less hostile, to their objects.
“Hear me, brethren,” he cried, “if, indeed, one so unworthy as I may call you brethren,” and he went on to recount the struggles with which his mind had been agitated during the weeks just past. Then, after briefly touching on what he had just seen, he went on, “I have sinned; I have forsaken the Law [pg 119]of my God; I have defiled myself by a companionship with the heathen; and though I have not worshipped their false gods”—there was a sigh of relief from the company as he uttered these words with a solemn emphasis—“yet I have been a guest at the feasts of their temples. If, therefore, you judge me to have transgressed beyond all pardon, cast me out from your company; I can find some other way to do service for the country that I have betrayed, and the God whom I have denied. Yet, if you think me worthy of death, I do not refuse to die.” And he drew a dagger from his belt, and offering it to one who seemed to be a leader in the assembly, stood with bared breast before him.
A murmur of admiration ran through the meeting.
“Nay, brother,” said the man whom he addressed, “this is not the time to take one soldier from the hosts of the Lord. You have sinned in the past; make amends in the future. There will be time and opportunity enough. And if you are the brother of her who has witnessed a good confession even unto death, you will not fail to use the occasion that shall come.”
The company then resumed the debate which had been interrupted by Micah’s arrival. Little difference of opinion indeed remained among them, and when the president, Seraiah by name, brother-in-law of Azariah, as being the husband of his sister Ruth, stated his views they met with general assent.
[pg 120]“We have seen enough,” he said, “and suffered enough. This city is polluted, and is no longer a fit abode for the faithful. Let them that are in Judæa flee unto the mountains. Meanwhile we will gather together such as have not bowed the knee to Baal, and will make head against the oppressor. But here we shall be struck down, and perish as a beast perishes in the pit into which he has fallen.”
After this the company dispersed to make such preparation as they could for their departure, which was fixed for the night following. Micah and Seraiah remained behind in the house of mourning. Azariah withdrew to comfort his little girls, who were crying almost incessantly for their mother. Comfort he needed sorely for himself, and he found it, as far as it could be found, in this fatherly care. Every look and gesture of the little ones reminded him of her whom he had lost, and seemed to open the wound afresh. Yet it consoled him to talk to them about their mother, to tell the story of her early days, to remind them, though they did not need to be reminded, of all her goodness and love, and to picture her happiness where she sat in Paradise with the holy women of old, with Miriam, and Sarah, and Rachel.
Meanwhile Seraiah told the story of Hannah’s end to Micah. “We came together,” he said, “on the eighth day after the birth of her child; but though all was prepared for the circumcision of the boy, [pg 121]we had not yet resolved what was to be done. I know that I wavered—I confess it with shame—and so did Azariah. And, indeed, I can scarcely find it in my heart to blame him. He had no thought of his own life, but to risk his wife’s and the child’s—that was terrible. And there were others who advised him to yield for the time; the risk was too terrible. Indeed, that was the feeling of most of us, and those who thought otherwise were unwilling to speak. We were assembled, you know, in your sister’s chamber. She sat on the bed, holding the little one in her arms. Her face was somewhat pale; but she had a calm and steadfast look, like the look of one who watches his adversary in the battle line of the enemy, and there was a fire in her eyes, such as I have never seen in the eye of woman before. When I had spoken, counselling delay and yielding for a while to the necessities of the time, I turned to her and said, ‘And you, Hannah, what think you?’
“Then she spoke, and her voice never faltered for a moment, but was clear and full, though indeed she never raised it above the pitch that becomes the obedience and modesty of the woman. ‘Pardon me,’ she said, ‘fathers and brethren, if I seem, in differing from your counsel, to reproach you. I am but a weak woman, and know nothing of policy or of the needs of the time. But I know the thing that the Lord our God has commanded: “Every man-child among you shall be circumcised,” and [pg 122]“whosoever shall not be circumcised that soul shall be cut off from among his people.” The Lord hath given me this child, and shall I not do for him according to the commandment? Shall we fear man rather than God? And for myself, is it a new thing for a mother to give her life into the hand of God? Four times already have I so given it, and He has restored it to me. And if it be His will that it be taken, shall I not obey? What said the Holy Children when Nebuchadnezzar would have had them fall down and worship the golden image, lest they should be cast into the burning fiery furnace. “Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us out of thy hand, and He will deliver us out of thy hand, O King; but if not——” ’
“Then she turned to her husband, and said, ‘What shall be his name?’ as steadily and quietly as if there had been no question of danger or fear. ‘Let his name be David,’ said the father, as he took the babe from its mother’s arms; for the sun was about to set, and in a few moments the due time would be past. So they carried the child into the next room. And when your sister heard his cry, she broke forth into blessings and thanksgiving. ‘Thanks be to Thee, O Lord,’ she cried, ‘in that Thou hast made him a child of the Covenant. And now I beseech Thee to grant that he may walk before Thee all the days of his life as walked Thy servant David, and that he may sit down with [pg 123]Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.’
“After that she bade us stay and partake of the feast which she had caused to be prepared. Verily she had left nothing uncared for. Never was her table better spread, and, as you know, she was a notable housekeeper. And though, for her weakness, she could not sit at table with us, she was gay and cheerful even beyond her wont, so that we men, for very shame, had to banish the care from our faces, and laugh and be merry with her. But the next day the soldiers came and beat Azariah, as they thought, to death, and——” The speaker paused; indeed he could not speak for the choking tears. At last he said, in a broken voice, “What need to tell the rest? You know it.”
The next night Azariah, Seraiah, Micah, and a company of some thirty men and women left Jerusalem. Part of them were on foot, but an ass had been found to carry Ruth, Seraiah’s wife, who was expecting shortly to become a mother. Their destination was the hill-country that went by the name of the Wilderness of Bethaven.
The time is evening; the place is a rocky pass between Bethel and Michmash. At the mouth of a cave which commands a view of the approach from the westward, are seated two men, in one of whom we may recognize Shallum, the quondam wine-seller of Jerusalem.
“Well, comrade,” he is saying to his companion, “this business is not quite to my liking. It is all very well when we can relieve a Greek merchant, or, better still, a Syrian tax-gatherer, of his money-bags; but I hate robbing our own people. That poor fellow to-day, for instance, who was taking home his wages—he had been wood-cutting, he said, in Bashan—it really went to my heart to take the money from him.”
The companion whom he addressed was a rough, savage-looking fellow, who certainly did not look as if he would feel very much for Shallum’s scruples. [pg 125]He had followed, indeed, the robber’s trade, it may be said, from his childhood, as his fathers had followed it before him, almost since the days of the Captivity.
He now broke out into a loud, mocking laugh.
“Ah! my friend Shallum,” he said, “you are a great deal too soft and tender-hearted. But then you are new to the business; when you have been at it as long as I have, you won’t have these scruples. Now, mark what I say; and if we are to be good friends, don’t let me hear any more of this nonsense. You are a stout fellow and a man of your hands; and as for myself, well, I rather think that a novice like you could hardly have come across a better teacher. I don’t doubt that we shall do very well together; and when we have made a little money, I shan’t blame you if you give up the business and become what they call an honest man. For myself, the ‘honest man’ line does not suit me—it is not in my blood, you know. But, meanwhile, if we are to work together, we must agree. Now, all is fish that comes to our net. Of course, I don’t mean the people about here—our neighbours, you know. We must not touch them; on the contrary, they must have a share of what we make. As long as they are our friends we are safe. But all strangers are lawful booty. And mind—for I see that you are a little wroth about this—mind, it is only dead men who tell no tales.”
[pg 126]Benjamin’s words of wisdom—the more experienced of the two robbers was named Benjamin—were interrupted by an exclamation from his companion.
“Hush!” he cried, “I hear a sound of voices from the pass.”
The two men listened; Shallum was evidently right. A party of travellers were approaching from the west.
“We are in luck,” said Benjamin; “it is not often that we do business so late in the day.”
As he spoke the leaders of the party emerged into sight.
“Shoot, Shallum!” said Benjamin; “strike one of those fellows down and we shall have the whole party in confusion.”
“Nay, Benjamin; I hear the voices of women and children; and see—God wither my hand if I shoot at such helpless people as these.”
The rest of the party was now in sight. Two men, one on either side of the ass, were supporting Ruth, who, worn out by the fatigues of the day, could with difficulty keep her seat on the animal. These were her husband and Azariah. Close behind came Micah, carrying on his shoulder the little Judith, who was fast asleep. Then followed Miriam, Judith’s elder sister. The poor child limped sadly along, for her city life had been but a poor training for that long day’s march, and she felt just [pg 127]a little envious of the good fortune which Judith enjoyed in being carried.
Shallum recognized the figures of Seraiah and Ruth, with whom he happened to have had some slight acquaintance in Jerusalem, and from whom indeed he had received no little kindness.
“Benjamin,” he said, in a determined voice, “I know these people, and if I can help it they shall suffer no harm.”
“Well, well; have your way,” said his companion, who indeed was not quite as hard of heart as he would make himself out. “If, as you say, you know them, go down and make friends.”
Shallum at once made his way down into the pass, and, standing in the path, greeted the travellers with the customary salutation, “Peace be with you!”
“What, Shallum!” said Seraiah, “is that you? What brings you here?”
“That were a long story,” returned the man, “and this is not the time to tell it. But can I serve you?”
“Can you find shelter for my poor wife? But it is idle, I fear, to ask you. There can be no inn near this wild place.”
“’Tis true, sir, there is no inn; yet if you can put up with such poor lodging as we can give, the lady will have at least shelter.”
Ruth was lifted from her seat on the ass, and carried between her husband and Azariah up the [pg 128]rocky track that led to the cave, Shallum showing the way with a lighted torch in his hand, for by this time the night had fallen.
Benjamin met the little party at the mouth of the cave. His life of crime had not quenched all kindly feeling in him. He felt, too, that he was a host; and the sense of hospitality, which keeps its hold on an Eastern heart as long as anything good is left to it, bade him do his best for his guests. And the sweet smile of thanks with which Ruth greeted him when she was laid on the couch of cloaks, which the two inmates of the cave had hastily arranged on a pile of heather, won him altogether.
A minute or two afterwards Micah followed with the two children; Judith, still fast asleep, was put down by Ruth’s side, while Miriam forgot her fatigue in the delightful excitement of this new adventure. The new-comers had brought with them a slender store of provisions. These they proceeded to share, declining with thanks the dried flesh and wine which their entertainers offered. The rest of the party found shelter, under guidance of the robbers, in some of the many caves with which the rocks in the neighbourhood were honeycombed.
Next morning the arrangements for housing the little colony were made. There was an abundance of caves to give shelter to all, and the accommodation though rough, at least protected them from the [pg 129]weather. Their life was simple in the extreme—simple even to hardness. They sought for herbs and roots, and from the neighbouring peasants they bought a few goats, to browse among the rocks, and a small quantity of corn, which they bruised between stones and baked. The mountain springs furnished their drink, a few flasks of wine being reserved for any cases of sickness. Twice a day the whole company met for worship. Seraiah read a portion first from the Law and then from the Prophets, for they had not forgotten to bring rolls of the Sacred Books. Then standing erect, with covered heads, their faces turned towards the Temple, they joined in prayer. In the words of one who himself in old time had found himself shut out for a while from the privileges of the Holy Place and was content to realize them by faith, the congregation uttered together the petition, “Let my prayer be set forth in Thy sight as the incense; and let the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice.” One of the psalms of penitence followed; for surely they had all many sins to repent of—sins of which they were now suffering the penalty; and, after the psalm, a prayer for deliverance from the enemy, and for the setting up again of the throne of David, and for that without which neither deliverance nor a restored kingdom could profit them—purity and righteousness in their own hearts and souls.
Nothing could be more simple and frugal than [pg 130]their daily fare. Wild fruits and herbs were largely used, and any little plots of fertile ground that could be found were planted with vegetables, some far-seeing member of the party having brought with him a small supply of garden seeds. When a few days after their arrival Ruth gave birth to a son it was much feared that the scanty supply of nourishing food might long delay her restoration to strength. This fear was not realized. The feeling of freedom and deliverance combined with the fine mountain air to bring her back to her wonted health, and she found herself able to go about her daily work long before she could have hoped to do so in the more enervating atmosphere of the city.
One day she had gone to gather herbs for the daily mess, a work in which she was especially useful from the knowledge of plants which she had taken pains to acquire in her unmarried days. She had taken, of course, the new-born infant with her, and Miriam, who was delighted to perform, as far as her strength permitted, the office of nurse. The little Judith, whose night’s rest had been disturbed by some childish ailment, had been left at home to make up her allowance of sleep. The mother found on her return that a strange visitor had made herself at home in the cave. The little one was fast asleep on a bed of rugs which had been made up for her, and curled up at her side with one of her fore paws [pg 131]round her neck was a jackal. The two companions were roused together by the arrival of the party, and, wonderful to relate, neither showed any symptoms of alarm. The jackal rose from its resting-place, approached Ruth, and fawned at her feet, and the child came after its bedfellow and stroked affectionately its shaggy skin.
When, two or three weeks afterwards, the new comer gave birth to a litter of cubs, the joy of the children was complete. The little animals soon learnt to play with the girls, and their dam sat by and watched their gambols, and sometimes even condescended to join in them herself.
The little colony heard of the strange incident with delight, and saw in it a token of Divine favour. “Man rages cruelly against us,” they said, “but we find friends among the beasts of the field. Surely it is our God who hath changed the heart of this savage dweller in the wilderness, and we will trust that He will do yet greater things than these.”
“Mother,” said Miriam one day to Ruth, “by what name shall we call our new friend?”
The question puzzled her, and she referred it to her husband.
“It does not seem fitting,” she said, “that we should give the name of a daughter of the Covenant to the beast, for though she is of kindly temper yet she is unclean.”
Seraiah thought awhile.
[pg 132]“You say truth, my wife. Let us call her Jael.”
“But why Jael?”
“Because the wife of Heber was of the unclean, for was she not of the house of the Kenite? Yet was she a friend of Israel, for she slew Sisera that was captain of the host of Jabin, King of Canaan.”
So thenceforward the creature went by the name of Jael.
It was not long before she justified her name by showing that she could be fierce on occasion.
A wayfarer, who described himself as a discharged soldier and a Moabite by birth, asked for shelter and food. Scanty as were the means of the fugitives, they did not grudge the stranger a share of their meal. They gave him their best, adding to their daily fare the special luxury of some dried grapes. As he complained of being footsore, Ruth applied some simple remedies to the blisters on his feet. Altogether he was treated not only as a welcome but even as an honoured guest. On his part he professed a fervent sympathy with the hopes and plans of his hosts. The next morning he started as if to continue his journey. But the cupidity of the wretch had been roused by the sight of the handsome earrings—almost the sole remaining relic of former affluence—which he had spied in his hostess’s ears. About an hour before noon, when he judged that the men would be still busy about their daily work, he crept back to the cave. Ruth was sitting [pg 133]by a fire nursing her babe. The jackal lay asleep in a corner; the girls were playing with the cubs on a sunny little plot of ground outside.
“Lady,” began the fellow, in a beggar’s wheedling voice, “can you spare a little money for a poor fellow who has not so much as a copper coin to buy him a piece of bread?”
Ruth was startled at his re-appearance, but concealed her alarm.
“Friend,” she said, “I have no money; but I will give you half a loaf if you want food, though you had done better, I should think, to keep on your way, for you can hardly find any that are poorer than we.”
“But you have gold,” said the man.
“Gold? Not I,” she answered.
“Nay, lady,” he went on, with a perceptible tone of threatening in his voice, “those earrings that you wear are doubtless of true metal. They add, indeed, to your beauty, and it is a pity that you should lose them; but then there is no one to admire you in this wilderness, and they would keep a poor fellow like myself in flesh and wine for a month or more.”
“My earrings?” said Ruth, stupefied by the man’s audacity.
“Yes, your earrings, lady,” said the man. “I should advise you to take them out yourself, for if I have to do it I am afraid that I shall show myself a very rough tirewoman.”
The spirit of Ruth, the same that had dwelt of old [pg 134]in a Miriam or a Deborah, was roused at the man’s insolent audacity. She seized a half-burnt brand from the fire and stood on her defence. The soldier, thinking that he had found an easy prey, approached. But he had not reckoned on an ally who was ready to help her in her need. Jael had been woke by the voices, and watched with glaring eyes the soldier’s movements, uttering every now and then a low growl, which, however, the man was too much occupied to heed. As soon as he came within reach, she sprang upon him from her lurking-place. The force with which she threw herself upon him overset him, and he fell backwards, his head striking on the mill-stone which formed part of the scanty furniture of the cave. In a moment her fangs were in his throat. In vain did Ruth, who saw the man’s danger and was unwilling that he should perish in his sins, call her by her name. All the savage instinct in her was roused by the taste of blood. Before two minutes had passed the freebooter was dead.
“We did well to call her Jael,” said Seraiah that evening, as he helped to carry the corpse out of the cave. “The wretch has received the due reward of his deeds.”