by George Moore
On these words he went to his counting-house distracted and sad, expecting to hear from his clerk that the story of Jesus’ resurrection was beginning to be forgotten in Jerusalem, but the clerk knew nothing more, and was eager to speak on another matter. Pilate had sent soldiers to prevent a multitude from assembling at the holy mountain, Gerezim, for the purpose of searching for some sacred vessels hidden there by Moses, so it was said. Many had been slain in the riot, and the Samaritans had made representations to Vitellius, artfully worded, the clerk said, and dangerous to Pilate, for Vitellius had a friend whom he would like to put in Pilate’s place. Joseph sat thinking that it was not at all unlikely he was about to lose his friend and protector, and the clerk, seeing his master troubled, dropped in the words: nothing has been settled yet. Joseph gave no heed, and a few days afterwards a messenger came from the Prætorium to tell Joseph that Pilate wished to see him. We shall not meet again, Joseph, unless you come to Rome, and you must come quickly to see me there, for my health is declining. We have been friends, such friends as may rarely consist with Roman and Hebrew, he said, and the words stirred up a great grief in Joseph’s heart, and when he returned that evening to his house he was overcome by the evil tidings, but he did not convey them to Esora that evening, nor the next day, nor the day afterwards, and they becoming such a great torment in his heart he did not care to go to his counting-house, but remained waiting in his own rooms, or walking in the garden, startled by every noise and by every shadow.
Day passed over day, and it was one of the providers that came to the gates that brought the news of Pilate’s departure to Esora, and when she had gotten it she came to Joseph, saying: so your friend Pilate has been ordered to Rome? He has, indeed, Joseph answered, overcome by the intrigues of the Samaritans, who sought to assemble together, not so much to discover sacred vessels as to bring about a change of government. We are beset with danger, Esora, for it has come to my mind that the stories about the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth may be kindled again, and it will not be difficult to incite the priests against me; everybody is saying that I was the last man to see Jesus, and must know where his body is hidden; that is enough for the priests, and they will send up a band of Zealots to seek him in this garden. There is no place here where we can hide him from them. That is why I haven’t been to my counting-house for three days, fearing to leave thee and Matred alone with him, for they would surely choose the time when I was away in Jerusalem to plunder my house. As he was saying these things Matred came into the room with some wood for the fire, but before throwing the logs on the hearth that Jesus carried up she looked at them, and it seemed to Joseph her eyes were full of suspicion, and as soon as she left the room he said: now why did she bring the logs into the room while we were talking of Jesus, and why did she mention that he carried them up this afternoon, having felled a dead tree this morning?
Esora tried to persuade him that his fears were imaginary, but she too feared that Matred might begin to suspect that Jesus was no ordinary gardener; she had said, ye speak strangely in Galilee, and to kindle the story again it would only be necessary for somebody to come up to the gates and ask her if one, Jesus, a Galilean, was known to her, one that Pilate condemned to the cross. Her answer would be: there is one here called Jesus, he is a Galilean, and may have been on the cross for aught I know. And such answer would be carried back to the priests, who would order their hirelings to make a search for Jesus, and the master and servant often sat of an evening listening to the wind in the chimney, thinking it was warning them of the raid of the Jews. If a tree fell it was an omen, and they related their dreams to each other in the alleys of the gardens, till it occurred to them that to be seen in long converse together would awaken Matred’s suspicion. The shutters were put up and they sat in the dark afraid to speak lest the walls had ears.
Esora, who was the braver of the two, often said, Master, strive to quell thy fears, for the new procurator has given pause to the story of the resurrection. We have heard little of it lately, and Jesus is beginning to be forgotten. Not so, Esora, for to-day I heard — and Joseph began a long relation which ended always with the phrase: we are beset with danger. We have been saying that now for a long while, Esora answered, yet nothing has befallen us yet, and what cannot be cured must be endured. We must bear with him. If, Esora, I could bring myself to break all promises to my father and go away with him to Egypt this misery would be ended. Master, thou canst not do this thing; thou hast been thinking of it all the winter, and were it possible it would be accomplished already. If it hadn’t been for that dream — and Joseph began to relate again the dream related many times before. Forget thy dream, Master, Esora said to him, for it will not help us; as I have said, what cannot be cured must be endured. We must put our trust in time, which brings many changes; and in the spring something will befall; he’ll be taken from us. The spring, Esora? And in safety? Tell me, and in safety? Nay, Master, I cannot tell thee more than I have said; something will befall, but what that thing may be I cannot say. Will it be in the winter or in the spring? It will be in February or March, she said. It was, however, before then, in January (the winter being a mild one, the birds were already singing in the shaws), that a camel-driver came to the house on the hillside to tell Joseph that a camel had been stolen from them on their way from Jericho to Jerusalem during the night or in the early morning, and with many words and movements of the hands, that irritated Joseph, he sought to describe the valley where they pitched their tent. Get on with thy story, Joseph said; and the man told that they had succeeded in tracking the band, a small one, to a cave, out of which, he said, it will be easy to smoke them if Fadus, the procurator, will send soldiers at once, for they may go on to another cave, not deeming it safe to remain long in the same one. Didst beg the camel back from the robbers? Joseph asked, for he was not thinking of the robbery, but of his meeting with Fadus. No, Master, there was no use doing that. They would have taken our lives. But we followed them, spying them from behind rocks all the way, and the cave having but one entrance they can be smoked to death with a few trusses of damp straw. But care must be taken lest our camel perish with them. If we could get them to give up the camel first, I’m thinking —
It was a serious matter to hear that robbers had again established themselves in the hills; and while Joseph pondered the disagreeable tidings a vagrant breeze carried the scent of the camel-driver’s sheepskin straight into Jesus’ nostrils as he came up the path with a bundle of faggots on his shoulders. He stopped at first perplexed by the smell and then, recognising it, he hurried forward, till he stood before the spare frame and withered brown face of the desert wanderer.
Joseph looked on puzzled, for Jesus stood like one in ecstatic vision and began to put questions to the camel-driver regarding the quality of the sheep the shepherds led, asking if the rams speeded, if there were many barren ewes in the flock, and if there was as much scab about as formerly, questions that one shepherd might put to another, but which seemed strangely out of keeping with a gardener’s interests.
The camel-driver answered Jesus’ question as well as he was able, and then, guessing a former shepherd in the gardener, he asked if Jesus had ever led a flock. Joseph tried to interrupt, but the interruption came too late; Jesus blurted out that for many years he was a shepherd. And who was thy master? the camel-driver asked; Jesus answered that he was in those days an Essene living in the great settlement on the eastern bank of Jordan. Whereupon the camel-driver began to relate that Brother Amos was not doing well with the sheep and that some of the brethren were gone to the Brook Kerith and had taken possession of a cave in the rocks above it. The camel-driver was about to begin to make plain this Amos’ misunderstanding of sheep, but Jesus interrupted him. Who may their president be? he asked; and with head bent, scratching his poll, the camel-driver said at last that he thought it was Hazael. Hazael! Jesus answered, and forthwith his interest in the camel-driver began to slacken. The anemone is on the hills to-day, he said, and J
oseph looked at him reproachfully; his eyes seemed to say: hast forgotten so easily the danger we passed through by keeping thee here, counting it as nothing, so great was our love of thee? — and Jesus answering that look replied: but, Joseph, how often didst thou speak to me of Cæsarea, Alexandria, Athens, and other cities. Esora, too, was anxious that I should leave Judea ... for my sake as well as yours. India was spoken of, but the Brook Kerith is not twenty odd miles from here and I shall be safe among the brethren. Why this silence, Joseph? and whence comes this change of mood? Jesus asked, and Joseph began to speak of the parting that awaited them. But there’ll be no parting, Jesus interposed. Thou’lt ride thy ass out to meet me, and we shall learn to know each other, for thou knowest nothing of me yet, Joseph. Thou’lt bring a loaf of bread and a flagon of wine in thy wallet, and we shall share it together. I shall wait for thy coming on the hillside. Even so, Jesus, I am sad that our life here among the trees in this garden should have come to an end. We were frightened many times, but what we suffered is now forgotten. The pleasure of having thee with us alone is remembered. But it is true we have been estranged here. May we start to-night? Jesus asked, and Joseph said: if a man be minded to leave, it is better that he should leave at once.
CHAP. XXIII.
AN HOUR LATER, about two hours before midnight, they were riding into the desert, lighted by a late moon and incommoded by two puppies that Jesus could not be dissuaded from bringing with him: for if Brother Amos give up his flock to me, he argued, I shall need dogs. But Brother Amos will give thee his dogs, Joseph said. A shepherd, Jesus answered, cannot work with any dogs but his own. But what has become of the dogs that were left behind? Joseph asked, and not being able to tell him, Jesus fell to wondering how it was he had forgotten his dogs. At that moment one of the puppies cried to be let down: see how well he follows, Jesus said, but hardly were the words past his lips than the puppy turned tail, and Jesus had to chase him very nearly back to Bethany before he allowed himself to be overtaken and picked up again. The way is long, Joseph cried, more than seven hours to the city of Jericho, and if these chases happen again we shall be overtaken by the daylight. One of my caravans starts from Jericho at dawn; and if we meet it I shall have my camel-drivers round me asking pertinent questions and may be compelled to return with them to Jericho. Come, Jesus, thine ass seems willing to amble down this long incline; and dropping the reins over the animal’s withers, and leaning back, holding a puppy under each arm, Jesus allowed the large brown ass he was riding to trot; it was not long before he left far behind the heavy weighted white ass, which carried Joseph.
Now seeing the distance lengthening out between them Joseph was tempted to cry to Jesus to stop, but dared not, lest he might awaken robbers (their strongholds having lately been raided by soldiers), and he had in mind the fugitives that might be lurking in the hills, so instead of crying to Jesus to hold hard, he urged his ass forward. But the best speed he could make was not sufficient to overtake the nimbly trotting brown ass, and the pursuit might have been continued into Jericho if Jesus had not been suddenly behoven by the silence to stop and wait for Joseph to overtake him, which he did in about ten minutes, whispering: ride not so fast, robbers may be watching for travellers. Not at this hour, Jesus replied; and he prepared to ride on. This time one of the puppies succeeded in getting away and might have run back again to Bethany had not Joseph leapt from his ass and driven him back to Jesus with loud cries that the ravines repeated again and again. If there were robbers asleep, thy cries would awaken them. True, true, Joseph replied; I forgot; and he vowed he would not utter another word till they passed a certain part of the road, advantageous, he said, to robbers. No better spot between Jerusalem and Jericho for murder and robbery, he continued: cast thine eyes down into the ravine into which he could throw us. But if a robber should fall upon me do not stay to defend me; ride swiftly to the inn for help, and, despite the danger, Joseph rode in front of Jesus, sustained by the hope that the good fortune that attended him so far would attend him to the end. And they rode on through the grey moonlight till a wolf howled in the distance. Joseph bent over and whispered in Jesus’ ear: hold thy puppies close to thy bosom, Jesus, for if one be dropped and start running back to Bethany he will be overtaken easily by that wolf and thou’lt never hear of him again. Jesus held the puppies tighter, but there was no need to do so, for they seemed to know that the howl was not of their kin. The wolf howled again, and was answered by another wolf. The twain have missed our trail, Joseph said, and had there been more we might have had to abandon our asses. If we hasten we shall reach the inn without molestation from robbers or wolves. How far are we from the inn, Jesus? About two hours, Jesus answered, and Joseph fell to gazing on the hills, trying to remember them, but unable to do so, so transformed were they in the haze of the moonlight beyond their natural seeming. They attracted him strangely, the hills, dim, shadowy, phantasmal, rising out of their loneliness towards the bright sky, a white cliff showing sometimes through the greyness; the shadow of a rock falling sometimes across a track faintly seen winding round the hills, every hill being, as it were, a stage in the ascent.
As the hills fell back behind the wayfarers the inn began to take shape in the pearl-coloured haze, and the day Joseph rested for the first time in this inn rose up in his memory with the long-forgotten wanderers whom he had succoured on the occasion: the wizened woman in her black rags and the wizened child in hers. They came up from the great desert and for the last fifteen days had only a little camel’s milk, so they had said, and like rats they huddled together to eat the figs he distributed.
He had seen the inn many times since then and the thought came into his mind that he would never see it again. But men are always haunted by thoughts of an impending fate, he said to himself, which never befalls. But it has befallen mine ass to tire under my weight, he cried. He must be very tired, Jesus answered, for mine is tired, and I’ve not much more than half thy weight; and the puppies are tired, tired of running alongside of the asses, and tired of being carried, and ourselves are tired and thirsty; shall we knock at the door and cry to the innkeeper that he rouse out of his bed and give us milk for the puppies if he have any? I wouldn’t have him know that I journeyed hither with thee, Joseph replied, for stories are soon set rolling. Esora has put a bottle of water into the wallet; the puppies will have to lap a little. We can spare them a little though we are thirstier than they. She had put bread and figs into the wallet, so they were not as badly off as they thought for; and eating and drinking and talking to the puppies and feeding them the while, the twain stood looking through the blue, limpid, Syrian night.
At the end of a long silence Jesus said: the dawn begins; look, Joseph, the stars are not shining as brightly over the Jericho hills as they were. But Joseph could not see that the stars were dimmer. Are they not with-drawing? Jesus asked, and then, forgetful of the stars, his thoughts went to the puppies: see how they crouch and tremble under the wall of the garth, he said. There must be a wolf about, he said, and after he had thrown a stone to hasten the animal’s departure he began to talk to the puppies, telling them they need have no fear of wolves, for when they were full-grown and were taught by him they would not hold on but snap and snap again. That is how the Thracian dogs fight, like the wolves, he said, turning to Joseph. He is thinking, Joseph said to himself, of sheep and dogs and being a shepherd again. But of-what art thou thinking, Joseph? — of that strip of green sky which is the dawn? I can see, now, that thy shepherd eyes did not deceive thee, Joseph answered. The day begins again; and how wonderful is the return of the day, hill after hill rising out of the shadow. An old land, he said, like the end of the world. Why like the end of the world? Jesus asked. Joseph had spoken casually; he regretted the remark, and while he sought for words that would explain it away a train of camels came through the dusk rocking up the hillside, swinging long necks, one bearing on its back what looked like a gigantic bird. A strange burden, Joseph said, and what it may be I cannot say, but
the camels are my camels, and thou art safe out of sight under the wall of this garth.
A moment after the word that the master had bidden a halt was passed up the line, and one of the camel-drivers said: she stopped half-an-hour ago to drop her young one, and we put him on the dam’s back, and she doesn’t feel his weight. We shall rest for an hour between this and Jerusalem, and when we lift him down he’ll find the dug. But I’ve a letter for you, Master, from Gaddi, who wishes to see you. I thought to deliver it in Jerusalem. It was fortunate to meet you here. Gaddi will see you half-a-day sooner than he hoped for. I shall get to him by midday, Joseph said, raising his eyes from the letter. By midday, Master? Why, in early morning I should have thought for, unless, indeed, you bide here till the innkeeper opens his doors. I have business, Joseph answered, with the Essenes that have settled in a cave above the Brook Kerith. About whom, the camel-driver interjected, there be much talk going in Jericho. They’ve disputed among themselves, some remaining where they always were on the eastern bank of the Jordan, but ten or a dozen going to the Brook Kerith, with Hazael for their president. And for what reason? Joseph inquired. I have told you, Master, all I know, and since you be going to the Brook Kerith the brethren themselves will give reasons better than I can, even if I had heard what their reasons be for differing among themselves. Whereupon Joseph bade his caravan proceed onward to Jerusalem.
