CHAPTER VIII
MARCUS AND CALEB
On the morrow, as he had promised, Ithiel brought this questionof whether or no Miriam was to be allowed to execute a bust of thecenturion, Marcus, before the Court of the Curators of the Essenes, whowere accustomed thus to consider questions connected with their ward'swelfare in solemn conclave. There was a division of opinion. Some ofthem saw no harm; others, more strait-laced, held that it was scarcelycorrect that a Roman whose principles, doubtless, were lax, should beallowed to sit to the lady whom they fondly called their child. Indeed,it seemed dubious whether the leave would be given, until a curator,with more worldly wisdom than the rest, suggested that as the captainseemed desirous of having his picture taken in stone, under thecircumstances of his visit, which included a commission to make ageneral report upon their society to the authorities, it might bescarcely wise to deny his wish. Finally, a compromise was effected. Itwas agreed that Miriam should be permitted to do the work, but onlyin the presence of Ithiel and two other curators, one of them her owninstructor in art.
Thus it came about that when Marcus presented himself for the secondtime, at an hour fixed by Ithiel, he found three white-bearded andwhite-robed old gentlemen seated in a row in the workshop, and behindthem, a smile on her dusky face, Nehushta. As he entered they rose andbowed to him, a compliment which he returned. Now Miriam appeared, towhom he made his salutation.
"Are these," he said, indicating the elders, "waiting their turn to bemodelled, or are they critics?"
"They are critics," said Miriam drily, as she lifted the damp clothsfrom the rude lump of clay.
Then the work began. As the three curators were seated in a line atthe end of the shed, and did not seem to think it right to leave theirchairs, they could see little of its details, and as they were earlyrisers and the afternoon was hot, soon they were asleep, every one ofthem.
"Look at them," said Marcus; "there is a subject for any artist."
Miriam nodded, and taking three lumps of clay, working deftly andsilently, presently produced to his delighted sight rough but excellentportraits of these admirable men, who, when they woke up, laughed atthem very heartily.
Thus things went on from day to day. Each afternoon the elders attended,and each afternoon they sank to slumber in their comfortable chairs, anexample that Nehushta followed, or seemed to follow, leaving Miriam andher model practically alone. As may be guessed, the model, who likedconversation, did not neglect these opportunities. Few were the subjectswhich the two of them failed to discuss. He told her of all his life,which had been varied and exciting, omitting, it is true, certaindetails; also of the wars in which he had served, and the countries thathe had visited. She in turn told him the simple story of her existenceamong the Essenes, which he seemed to find of interest. When thesesubjects were exhausted they discussed other things--the matter ofreligion, for instance. Indeed, Miriam ventured to expound to him theprinciples of her faith, to which he listened respectfully and withattention.
"It sounds well," he said at length with a sigh, "but how do such maximsfit in with this world of ours? See now, lady, I am not old, but alreadyI have studied so many religions. First, there are the gods of Greeceand Rome, my own gods, you understand--well, the less said of them thebetter. They serve, that is all. Then there are the gods of Egypt, asto which I made inquiry, and of them I will say this: that beneath thegrotesque cloak of their worship seems to shine some spark of a holyfire. Next come the gods of the Phoenicians, the fathers of a hideouscreed. After them the flame worshippers and other kindred religions ofthe East. There remain the Jews, whose doctrine seems to me a savageone; at least it involves bloodshed with the daily offering of blood.Also they are divided, these Jews, for some are Pharisees, someSadducees, some Essenes. Lastly, there are you Christians, whose faithis pure enough in theory, but whom all unite against in hate. What isthe worth of a belief in this crucified Preacher who promises that Hewill raise those who trust in Him from the dead?"
"That you will find out when everything else has failed you," answeredMiriam.
"Yes, it is a religion for those whom everything else has failed. Whenthat chances to the rest of us we commit suicide and sink from sight."
"And we," she said proudly, "rise to life eternal."
"It may be so, lady, it may be so; but let us talk of somethingmore cheerful," and he sighed. "At present, I hold that nothing iseternal--except perhaps such art as yours."
"Which will be forgotten in the first change of taste, or crumbled inthe first fire. But see, he is awake. Come here, my master, and workthis nostril, for it is beyond me."
The old artist advanced and looked at the bust with admiration.
"Maid Miriam," he said, "I used to have some skill in this art, and Itaught you its rudiments; but now, child, I am not fit to temper yourclay. Deal with the nostril as you will; I am but a hodman who bears thebricks, you are the heaven-born architect. I will not meddle, I will notmeddle; yet perhaps----" and he made a suggestion.
"So?" said Miriam, touching the clay with her tool. "Oh, look! it isright now. You are clever, my master."
"It was always right. I may be clever, but you have genius, and wouldhave found the fault without any help from me."
"Did I not say so?" broke in Marcus triumphantly.
"Sir," replied Miriam, "you say a great deal, and much of it, I think,you do not mean. Please be silent; at this moment I wish to study yourlips, and not your words."
So the work went on. They did not always talk, for soon they found thatspeech is not necessary to true companionship. Once Miriam began tosing, and since she discovered that her voice pleased Marcus and soothedthe slumbers of the elders, she sang often; quaint, sad songs of thedesert and of the Jordan fishermen. Also she told him tales and legends,and when she had done Nehushta told others--wild stories of Libya, someof them very dark and bloody, others of magic, black or white. Thusthese afternoons passed happily enough, and the clay model beingfinished, after the masons among the brethren had rough hewn it for her,Miriam began to fashion it in marble.
There was one, however, for whom these days did not pass happily--Caleb.From the time that he had seen Miriam walking side by side with Marcushe hated the brilliant-looking Roman in whom, his instinct warned him,he had found a dangerous rival. Oh, how he hated him! So much, indeed,that even in the moment of first meeting he could not keep his rage andenvy in his heart, but suffered them to be written on his face, andto shine like danger signals in his eyes, which, it may be remembered,Marcus did not neglect to note.
Of Miriam Caleb had seen but little lately. She was not angry with him,since his offence was of a nature which a woman can forgive, but inher heart she feared him. Of a sudden, as it were, the curtain had beendrawn, and she had seen this young man's secret spirit and learned thatit was a consuming fire. It had come home to her that every word hespoke was true, that he who was orphaned and not liked even by thegentle elders of the Essenes, loved but one being upon earth--herself,whereas already his bosom seethed with many hates. She was sure alsothat any man for whom she chanced to care, if such an one should evercross her path, would, as Caleb had promised, go in danger at his hands,and the thought frightened her. Most of all did it frighten her when shesaw him glower upon Marcus, although in truth the Roman was nothing toher. Yet, as she knew, Caleb had judged otherwise.
But if she saw little of him, of this Miriam was sure enough--that hewas seldom far from her, and that he found means to learn from day today how she spent her hours. Indeed, Marcus told her that wherever hewent he met that handsome young man with revengeful eyes, who she hadsaid was named Caleb. Therefore Miriam grew frightened and, as the issuewill show, not without cause.
One afternoon, while Miriam was at work upon the marble, and the threeelders were as usual sunk in slumber, Marcus said suddenly:
"I forgot. I have news for you, lady. I have found out who murdered thatJewish thief whose end, amongst other things, I was sent to investigate.It was your friend Cale
b."
Miriam started so violently that her chisel gave an unexpected effect toone of Marcus's curls.
"Hush!" she said, glancing towards the sleepers, one of whom had justsnored so loudly that he began to awake at the sound; then added in awhisper, "They do not know, do they?"
He shook his head and looked puzzled.
"I must speak to you of this matter," she went on with agitation, and inthe same whisper. "No, not now or here, but alone."
"When and where you will," answered Marcus, smiling, as if the prospectof a solitary conversation with Miriam did not displease him, althoughthis evil-doing Caleb was to be its subject. "Name the time and place,lady."
By now the snoring elder was awake, and rising from his chair with agreat noise, which in turn roused the others. Nehushta also rose fromher seat and in doing so, as though by accident, overset a copper trayon which lay metal tools.
"In the garden one hour after sunset. Nehushta will leave the littlelower door unlocked."
"Good," answered Marcus; then added in a loud voice, "Not so, lady. Yegods! what a noise! I think the curl improved by the slip. It looks lessas though it had been waxed after the Egyptian fashion. Sirs, why doyou disturb yourselves? I fear that to you this long waiting must be astedious as to me it seems unnecessary."
The sun was down, and the last red glow had faded from the western sky,which was now lit only by the soft light of a half-moon. All theworld lay bathed in peace and beauty; even the stern outlines of thesurrounding mountains seemed softened, and the pale waters of the DeadSea and the ashen face of the desert gleamed like silver new cast fromthe mould. From the oleanders and lilies which bloomed along the edgeof the irrigation channels, and from the white flowers of the glossy,golden-fruited orange trees, floated a perfume delicious to the sense,while the silence was only broken from time to time by the bark of awandering dog or the howl of a jackal in the wilderness.
"A very pleasant night--to talk about Caleb," reflected Marcus, who hadreached the appointed spot ten minutes before the time, as he strolledfrom the narrow belt of trees that were planted along the high, outerwall, into the more open part of the garden. Had Marcus chanced tonotice that this same Caleb, walking softly as a cat, and keeping withgreat care in the shadow, had followed him through the little door whichhe forgot to lock, and was now hidden among those very trees, he mighthave remembered a proverb to the effect that snakes hide in the greenestgrass and the prettiest flowers have thorny stems. But he thought of nosuch thing, who was lost in happy anticipations of a moonlight interviewwith a lovely and cultured young lady, whose image, to speak truth, hadtaken so deep a hold upon his fancy, that sometimes he wondered how hewould be able to banish it thence again. At present he could think ofno better means than that which at this moment he was followingwith delight. Meetings in moonlit gardens tend proverbially todisenchantment!
Presently Marcus caught the gleam of a white robe followed by a darkone, flitting towards him through the dim and dewy garden, and at thesight his heart stood still, then began to beat again in a disorderlyfashion. Had he known it, another heart a few yards behind him alsostood still, and then began to beat like that of a man in a violentrage. It seems possible, also, that a third heart experienced unusualsensations.
"I wish she had left the old lady behind," muttered Marcus. "No, Idon't, for then there are brutes who, if they knew, might blame her";and, luckily for himself, he walked forward a few paces to meet thewhite robe, leaving the little belt of trees almost out of hearing.
Now Miriam stood before him, the moonlight shining on her delicate faceand in her tranquil eyes, which always reminded him of the blue depthsof heaven.
"Sir," she began----
"Oh, I pray you," he broke in, "cease from ceremony and call me Marcus!"
"Captain Marcus," she repeated, dwelling a little on the unfamiliarname, "I beg that you will forgive me for disturbing you at sounseasonable an hour."
"Certainly I forgive you, Lady Miriam," he replied, also dwelling onher name and copying her accent in a fashion that made the grim-facedNehushta smile.
She waved her hand in deprecation. "The truth is, that this matter ofCaleb's----"
"Oh, may all the infernal gods take Caleb! as I have reason to believethey shortly will," broke in Marcus angrily.
"But that is just what I wish to prevent; we have met here to talk ofCaleb."
"Well, if you must--talk and let us be done with him. What about Caleb?"
Miriam clasped her hands. "What do you know of him, Captain Marcus?"
"Know? Why, just this: a spy I have in my troop has found out a countryfellow who was hunting for mushrooms or something--I forget what--in agully a mile away, and saw this interesting youth hide himself thereand shoot that Jewish plunderer with a bow and arrow. More--he has foundanother man who saw the said Caleb an hour or two before help himselfto an arrow out of one of the Jew's quivers, which arrow appears to beidentical with, or at any rate, similar to, that which was found in thefellow's gullet. Therefore, it seems that Caleb is guilty, and that itwill be my duty to-morrow to place him under arrest, and in due courseto convey him to Jerusalem, where the priests will attend to his littlebusiness. Now, Lady Miriam, is your curiosity satisfied about Caleb?"
"Oh," she said, "it cannot be, it must not be! The man had struck himand he did but return a blow for a blow."
"An arrow for a blow, you mean; the point of a spear for the push of itshandle. But, Lady Miriam, you seem to be very deep in the confidence ofCaleb. How do you come to know all this?"
"I don't know, I only guess. I daresay, nay, I am sure, that Caleb isquite innocent."
"Why do you take such an interest in Caleb?" asked Marcus suspiciously.
"Because he was my friend and playmate from childhood."
"Umph," he answered, "a strange couple--a dove and a raven. Well, I amglad that you did not catch his temper, or you would be more dangerouseven than you are. Now, what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to spare Caleb. You, you, you--need not believe thosewitnesses."
"To think of it!" said Marcus, in mock horror. "To think that one whom Ithought so good can prove so immoral. Do you then wish to tempt me frommy duty?"
"Yes, I suppose so. At least the peasants round here are great liars."
"Lady," said Marcus, with stern conviction, "Caleb has improved upon hisopportunities as a playmate; he has been making love to you. I thoughtso from the first."
"Oh," she answered, "how can you know that? Besides, he promised that hewould never do it again."
"How can I know that? Why, because Caleb would have been a bigger foolthan I take him for if he had not. And if it rested with me, certainlyhe never would do it again. Now be honest with me, if a woman can onsuch a matter, and tell me true: are you in love with this Caleb?"
"I--I? In love with Caleb? Of course not. If you do not believe me, askNehushta."
"Thank you, I will be content with your own reply. You deny that you arein love with him, and I incline to believe you; but, on the other hand,I remember that you would naturally say this, since you might think thatany other answer would prejudice the cause of Caleb with me."
"With you! What can it matter to you, sir, whether or no I am in lovewith Caleb, who, to tell you the truth, frightens me?"
"And that, I suppose, is why you plead so hard for him?"
"No," she answered with a sudden sternness, "I plead hard for him as inlike case I would plead hard for you--because he has been my friend, andif he did this deed he was provoked to it."
"Well spoken," said Marcus, gazing at her steadily. Indeed, she wasworth looking at as she stood there before him, her hands clasped, herbreast heaving, her sweet, pale face flushed with emotion and her lovelyeyes aswim with tears. Of a sudden as he gazed Marcus lost control ofhimself. Passion for this maiden and bitter jealousy of Caleb arose liketwin giants in his heart and possessed him.
"You say you are not in love with Caleb," he said. "Well, kiss me and Iwill believe
you."
"How could such a thing prove my words?" she asked indignantly.
"I do not know and I do not care. Kiss me once and I will believefurther that the peasants of these parts are all liars. I feel myselfbeginning to believe it."
"And if I will not?"
"Then I am afraid I must refer the matter to a competent tribunal atJerusalem."
"Nehushta, Nehushta, you have heard. What shall I do?"
"What shall you do?" said Nehushta drily. "Well, if you like to give thenoble Marcus a kiss, I shall not blame you overmuch or tell on you. Butif you do not wish it, then I think you would be a fool to put yourselfto shame to save Caleb."
"Yet, I will do it--and to save Caleb only," said Miriam with a sob, andshe bent towards him.
To her surprise Marcus drew back, placing his hand before his face.
"Forgive me," he said. "I was a brute who wished to buy kisses in sucha fashion. I forgot myself; your beauty is to blame, and your sweetnessand everything that is yours. I pray," he added humbly, "that you willnot think the worse of me, since we men are frail at times. And now,because you ask me, though I have no right, I grant your prayer. Mayhapthose witnesses lied; at least, the man's sin, if sin there be, can beexcused. He has naught to fear from me."
"No," broke in Nehushta, "but I think you have much to fear from him;and I am sorry for that, my lord Marcus, for you have a noble heart."
"It may be so; the future is on the knees of the gods, and that whichis fated will befall. My Lady Miriam, I, your humble servant and friend,wish you farewell."
"Farewell," she answered. "Yes, Nehushta is right, you have a nobleheart"; and she looked at him in such a fashion that it flashed acrosshis mind that were he to proffer that request of his again, it mightnot be refused. But Marcus would not do it. He had tasted of the joy ofself-conquest, who hitherto, after the manner of his age and race, haddenied himself little, and, as it seemed to him, a strange new powerwas stirring in his heart--something purer, higher, nobler, than he hadknown before. He would cherish it a while.
Of all that were spoken there in the garden, Caleb, the watcher, couldcatch no word. The speakers did not raise their voices and they stoodat a distance, so that although he craned his head forward as far as hedared in the shadow of the trees, sharp and trained as they were, naughtsave a confused murmur reached his ears. But if these failed him, hiseyes fed full, so that he lost no move or gesture. It was a passionatelove scene, this was clear, for Nehushta stood at a little distance withher back turned, while the pair poured out their sweet speeches to eachother. Then at length, as he had expected, came the climax. Yes, oh!shameless woman--they were embracing. A mist fell upon Caleb's eyes, inwhich lights flashed like red-hot swords lifting and smiting, the blooddrummed in his ears as though his raging, jealous heart would burst.He would kill that Roman now on the spot. Miriam should never kiss himmore--alive.
Already Caleb had drawn the short-sword from its hiding-place in hisample robe; already he had stepped out from the shadow of the trees,when of a sudden his reason righted itself like a ship that has beenlaid over by a furious squall, and caution came back to him. If hedid this that faithless guardian, Nehushta, who without doubt had beenbought with Roman gold, would come to the assistance of her patron andthrust her dagger through his back, as she well could do. Or should heescape that dagger, one or other of them would raise the Essenes onhim, and he would be given over to justice. He wished to slay, not to beslain. It would be sweet to kill the Roman, but if he himself were laiddead across his body, leaving Miriam alive to pass to some other man,what would he be advantaged? Presently they must cease from theirendearments; presently his enemy would return as he had come, and thenhe might find his chance. He would wait, he would wait.
Look, they had parted; Miriam was gliding back to the house, and Marcuscame towards him, walking like a man in his sleep. Only Nehushtastood where she was, her eyes fixed upon the ground as though she werereasoning with herself. Still like a man in a dream, Marcus passed himwithin touch of his outstretched hand. Caleb followed. Marcus opened thedoor, went out of it, and pulled it to behind him. Caleb caught itin his hand, slipped through and closed it. A few paces down thewall--eight or ten perhaps--was another door, by which Marcus enteredthe garden of the guest-house. As he turned to shut this, Caleb pushedin after him, and they were face to face.
"Who are you?" asked the Roman, springing back.
Caleb, who by now was cool enough, closed the door and shot the bolt.Then he answered, "Caleb, the son of Hilliel, who wishes a word withyou."
"Ah!" said Marcus, "the very man, and, as usual, unless the lightdeceives me, in an evil humour. Well, Caleb the son of Hilliel, what isyour business with me?"
"One of life and death, Marcus the son of Emilius," he answered, in sucha tone that the Roman drew his sword and stood watching him.
"Be plain and brief, young man," he said.
"I will be both plain and brief. I love that lady from whom you havejust parted, and you also love, or pretend to love, her. Nay, deny itnot; I have seen all, even to your kisses. Well, she cannot belong toboth of us, and I intend that in some future day she shall belong tome if arm and eye do not fail me now. Therefore one of us must dieto-night."
Marcus stepped back, overcome not with fear, but with astonishment.
"Insolent," he said, "you lie! There were no kisses, and our talk was ofyour neck, that I gave to her because she asked it, which is forfeit forthe murder of the Jew."
"Indeed," sneered Caleb. "Now, who would have thought that the nobleCaptain Marcus would shelter thus behind a woman's robe? For the rest,my life is my own and no other's to give or to receive. Guard yourself,Roman, since I would kill you in fair fight. Had I another mind youwould be dead by now, never knowing the hand that struck you. Have nofear; I am your equal, for my forefathers were nobles when yours weresavages."
"Boy, are you mad," asked Marcus, "to think that I, who have fought inthree wars, can fear a beardless youth, however fierce? Why, if I fearedyou I have but to blow upon this whistle and my guards would hale youhence to a felon's death. For your own sake it is that I pray you toconsider. Setting aside my rank and yours, I will fight you if you will,and now. Yet think. If I kill you there is an end, and if by chance youshould kill me, you will be hunted down as a double murderer. As it is,I forgive you, because I know how bitter is the jealousy of youth,and because you struck no assassin's blow when you might have done sosafely. Therefore, I say, go in peace, knowing that I shall not break myword."
"Cease talking," said Caleb, "and come out into the moonlight."
"I am glad that is your wish," replied Marcus. "Having done all I canto save you, I will add that I think you a dangerous cub, of whom theworld, the lady Miriam and I alike will be well rid. Now, what weaponhave you? A short sword and no mail? Well, so have I. In this we arewell matched. Stay, I have a steel-lined cap, and you have none. Thereit goes, to make our chances equal. Wind your cloak about your left armas I do. I have known worse shields. Good foothold, but an uncertainlight. Now, go!"
Caleb needed no encouragement. For one second they stood facing eachother, very types of the Eastern and Western world; the Roman--sturdy,honest-eyed, watchful and fearless, his head thrown back, his feetapart, his shield arm forward, his sword hand pressed to his side fromwhich the steel projected. Over against him was the Jew, crouched like atiger about to spring, his eyes half closed as though to concentrate thelight, his face working with rage, and every muscle quivering till hiswhole flesh seemed to move upon his bones, like to that of a snake.Suddenly, uttering a low cry, he sprang, and with that savage onslaughtthe fight began and ended.
Marcus was ready; moreover, he knew what he would do. As the man came,stepping swiftly to one side, he caught the thrust of Caleb's sword inthe folded cloak, and since he did not wish to kill him, struck at hishand. The blow fell upon Caleb's first finger and severed it, cuttingthe others also, so that it dropped to the ground with the sword thatthey had held. Marcus put his
foot upon the blade, and wheeled round.
"Young man," he said sternly, "you have learnt your lesson and will bearthe mark of it till your death day. Now begone."
The wretched Caleb ground his teeth. "It was to the death!" he said, "itwas to the death! You have conquered, kill me," and with his bloody handhe tore open his robe to make a path for the sword.
"Leave such talk to play-actors," answered Marcus. "Begone, and be sureof this--that if ever you try to bring treachery on me, or trouble onthe lady Miriam, I will kill you sure enough."
Then with a sound that was half curse and half sob, Caleb turned andslunk away. With a shrug of the shoulder Marcus also turned to go, whenhe felt a shadow fall upon him, and swung round, to find Nehushta at hisside.
"And pray where did you come from, my Libyan friend?" he asked.
"Out of that pomegranate fence, my Roman lord, whence I have seen andheard all that passed."
"Indeed. Then I hope that you give me credit for good sword-play andgood temper."
"The sword-play was well enough, though nothing to boast of with such amadman for a foe. As for the temper, it was that of a fool."
"Such," soliloquised Marcus, "is the reward of virtue. But I am curious.Why?"
"Because, my lord Marcus, this Caleb will grow into the most dangerousman in Judaea, and to none more dangerous than to my lady Miriam andyourself. You should have killed him while you had the chance, beforehis turn comes to kill you."
"Perhaps," answered Marcus with a yawn; "but, friend Nehushta, I havebeen associating with a Christian and have caught something of herdoctrines. That seems a fine sword. You had better keep it. Good-night."
Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem Page 8
