When Miriam entered the supper chamber that night, the guests to thenumber of twelve were already seated on their couches, waiting for thefeast to begin. By her grandfather's command she was arrayed in herrichest robes fashioned and broidered after the Grecian fashion, havingher hair gathered into coils upon her head and held with a golden net.Round her waist was a girdle of gold set with gems, about her throat thenecklace of pearls which Marcus had sent her, and on her hand a singlering--that with his likeness and her own. As she entered the greatchamber, looking most lovely, notwithstanding her lack of height, hergrandfather came forward to meet her and present her to the guests,who rose in greeting. One by one they bowed to her and one by one shesearched their faces with her eyes--faces for the most part stern andfierce. Now all had passed and she sighed with relief, for among themthere was no Caleb. Even as she did so a curtain swung aside and Calebentered.
It was he, of that there could be no doubt; but oh! how changed sincelast she had seen him two years before. Then he had been but a raw,passionate youth; now he was a tall and splendid young man, veryhandsome in his dark fashion, very powerful of frame also and quick oflimb. His person was matched by his attire, which was that of an Easternwarrior noble, and his mien was proud and conquering. As he advancedthe guests bowed to him in respect, as to a man of great and assuredposition who may become greater still. Yes, even Benoni showed himthis respect, stepping forward to greet him. All these greetings Calebacknowledged lightly, even haughtily, till of a sudden he saw Miriamstanding somewhat in the shadow, and heedless of the other guests pushedhis way towards her.
"Thus we meet again, Miriam," he said, his proud face softening ashe spoke and his eyes gazing on her with a sort of rapture. "Are youpleased to see me?"
"Surely, Caleb," she answered. "Who would not be well pleased to meetthe playfellow of her childhood?"
He frowned, for childhood and its play were not in his thoughts. Beforehe could speak again Benoni commanded the company to be seated, whereonMiriam took her accustomed place as mistress of the house.
To her surprise Caleb seated himself beside her on the couch that shouldhave been reserved for the oldest guest, who for some moments was lefta wanderer and wrathful, till Benoni, seeing what had passed, called himto his side. Then, golden vessels of scented water having been handedby slaves to each guest in turn, the feast began. As Miriam was about todip her fingers in the water she remembered the ring upon her left handand turned the bezel inwards. Caleb noted the action, but said nothing.
"Whence come you, Caleb?" she asked.
"From the wars, Miriam. We have thrown down the gate to Rome, and shehas picked it up."
She looked at him inquiringly and asked, "Was it wise?"
"Who can tell?" he answered. "At least it is done. For my part Ihesitated long, but your grandfather won me over, so now I must followmy fate."
Then he began to tell her of the taking of Masada and of the bloodystruggles of the factions in Jerusalem.
After this he spoke of the Essenes, who still occupied their village,though in fear, for all about them was much fighting; and of theirchildish days together--talk which pleased her greatly. Whilst theyspoke thus, a messenger entered the room and whispered somethinginto the ear of Benoni, who raised his hands to Heaven as though ingratitude.
"What tidings?" asked one.
"This, my friends. Cestius Gallus the Roman has been hunted from thewalls of Jerusalem and his army is destroyed in the pass of Beth-horon."
"God be praised!" said the company as though with one voice.
"God be praised," repeated Caleb, "for so great and glorious a victory!The accursed Romans are fallen indeed."
Only Miriam said nothing.
"What is in your mind?" he asked looking at her.
"That they will spring up again stronger than before," she replied, thenat a signal from Benoni, rose and left the feast.
From the supper chamber Miriam passed down a passage to the portico andthere seated herself, resting her arms upon the marble balustrade andlistening to the waves as they lapped against the walls below.
That day had been disturbed, different, indeed, from all the peacefuldays which she was wont to spend. First had come the messenger bearingher lover's gifts and letter which already she longed to read again;then hard upon his heels, like storm upon the sunshine, he who, unlessshe was mistaken, still wished to be her lover--Caleb. How curious wasthe lot of all three of them! How strangely had they been exalted! She,the orphan ward of the Essenes, was now a great and wealthy lady witheverything her heart could desire--except one thing, indeed, whichit desired most of all. And Marcus, the debt-saddled Roman soldier offortune, he also, it seemed, had suddenly become great and wealthy,pomps that he held at the price of playing some fool's part in a templeto satisfy the whimsy of an Imperial madman.
Caleb, too, had found fortune, and in these tumultuous times risensuddenly to place and power. All three of them were seated uponpinnacles, but as Miriam felt, they were pinnacles of snow, which foraught she knew, might be melted by the very sun of their prosperity. Shewas young, she had little experience, yet as Miriam sat there watchingthe changeful sea, there came upon her a great sense of the instabilityof things, and an instinctive knowledge of their vanity. The men whowere great one day, whose names sounded in the mouths of all, the nexthad vanished, disgraced or dead. Parties rose and parties fell, highpriest succeeded high priest, general supplanted general, yet upon eachand all of them, like the following waves that rolled beneath her, camedark night and oblivion. A little dancing in the sunshine, a littlemoaning in the shade, then death, and after death----
"What are you thinking of, Miriam?" said a rich voice at her elbow, thevoice of Caleb.
She started, for here she believed herself alone, then answered:
"My thoughts matter nothing. Why are you here? You should be with yourfellow----"
"Conspirators. Why do you not say the word? Well, because sometimes onewearies even of conspiracy. Just now we triumph and can take our ease.I wish to make the most of it. What ring is that you wear upon yourfinger?"
Miriam straightened herself and grew bold.
"One which Marcus sent me," she answered.
"I guessed as much. I have heard of him; he has become a creature of themad Nero, the laughing-stock of Rome."
"I do not laugh at him, Caleb."
"No, you were ever faithful. But, say, do you laugh at me?"
"Indeed not; why should I, since you seem to fill a great and dangerouspart with dignity?"
"Yes, Miriam, my part is both great and dangerous. I have risen high andI mean to rise higher."
"How high?"
"To the throne of Judaea."
"I think a cottage stool would be more safe, Caleb."
"Mayhap, but I do not like such seats. Listen, Miriam, I will be greator die. I have thrown in my lot with the Jews, and when we have cast outthe Romans I shall rule."
"_If_ you cast out the Romans, and _if_ you live. Caleb, I have no faithin the venture. We are old friends, and I pray of you to escape from itwhile there is yet time."
"Why, Miriam?"
"Because He Whom your people crucified and Whom I serve prophesied itsend. The Romans will crush you, Caleb. His blood lies heavy upon thehead of the Jews, and the hour of payment is at hand."
Caleb thought a while, and when he spoke again the note of confidencehad left his voice.
"It may be so, Miriam," he said, "though I put no faith in the sayingsof your prophet; but at least I have taken my part and will see the playthrough. Now for the second time I ask you to share its fortunes. I havenot changed my mind. As I loved you in childhood and as a youth, so Ilove you as a man. I offer to you a great career. In the end I may fall,or I may triumph, still either the fall or the triumph will be worthyour sharing. A throne, or a glorious grave--both are good; who can saywhich is the better? Seek them with me, Miriam."
"Caleb, I cannot."
"Why?"
"Because it is
laid upon me as a birthright, or a birth-duty, that Ishould wed no man who is not a Christian. You know the story."
"Then if there were no such duty would you wed me, Miriam?"
"No," she answered faintly.
"Why not?"
"Because I love another man whom also I am forbid to wed, and untildeath I am pledged to him."
"The Roman, Marcus?"
"Aye, the Roman Marcus. See, I wear his ring," and she lifted herhand, "and his gift is about my throat," and she touched the necklet ofpearls. "Till death I am his and his alone. This I say, because it isbest for all of us that you should know the truth."
Caleb ground his teeth in bitter jealousy.
"Then may death soon find him!" he said.
"It would not help you, Caleb. Oh! why cannot we be friends as we werein the old times!"
"Because I seek more than friendship, and soon or late, in this way orin that, I swear that I will have it."
As the words left his lips footsteps were heard, and Benoni appeared.
"Friend Caleb," he said, "we await you. Why, Miriam, what do you here?To your chamber, girl. Affairs are afoot in which women should have nopart."
"Yet as I fear, grandfather, women will have to bear the burden,"answered Miriam. Then, bowing to Caleb, she turned and left them.
Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem Page 16
