Ben-Hur; a tale of the Christ

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER V

  The sheik waited, well satisfied, until Ben-Hur drew his horsesoff the field for the forenoon--well satisfied, for he had seenthem, after being put through all the other paces, run full speedin such manner that it did not seem there were one the slowest andanother the fastest--run in other words, as if the four were one.

  "This afternoon, O sheik, I will give Sirius back to you."Ben-Hur patted the neck of the old horse as he spoke. "I willgive him back, and take to the chariot."

  "So soon?" Ilderim asked.

  "With such as these, good sheik, one day suffices. They are not afraid;they have a man's intelligence, and they love the exercise. This one,"he shook a rein over the back of the youngest of the four--"you calledhim Aldebaran, I believe--is the swiftest; in once round a stadium hewould lead the others thrice his length."

  Ilderim pulled his beard, and said, with twinkling eyes, "Aldebaran isthe swiftest; but what of the slowest?"

  "This is he." Ben-Hur shook the rein over Antares. "This is he:but he will win, for, look you, sheik, he will run his utmost allday--all day; and, as the sun goes down, he will reach his swiftest."

  "Right again," said Ilderim.

  "I have but one fear, O sheik."

  The sheik became doubly serious.

  "In his greed of triumph, a Roman cannot keep honor pure. In thegames--all of them, mark you--their tricks are infinite; in chariotracing their knavery extends to everything--from horse to driver,from driver to master. Wherefore, good sheik, look well to allthou hast; from this till the trial is over, let no stranger somuch as see the horses. Would you be perfectly safe, do more--keepwatch over them with armed hand as well as sleepless eye; then Iwill have no fear of the end."

  At the door of the tent they dismounted.

  "What you say shall be attended to. By the splendor of God, no handshall come near them except it belong to one of the faithful.To-night I will set watches. But, son of Arrius"--Ilderim drewforth the package, and opened it slowly, while they walked tothe divan and seated themselves--"son of Arrius, see thou here,and help me with thy Latin."

  He passed the despatch to Ben-Hur.

  "There; read--and read aloud, rendering what thou findest intothe tongue of thy fathers. Latin is an abomination."

  Ben-Hur was in good spirits, and began the reading carelessly."'MESSALA TO GRATUS!'" He paused. A premonition drove the bloodto his heart. Ilderim observed his agitation.

  "Well; I am waiting."

  Ben-Hur prayed pardon, and recommenced the paper, which, it issufficient to say, was one of the duplicates of the letterdespatched so carefully to Gratus by Messala the morning afterthe revel in the palace.

  The paragraphs in the beginning were remarkable only as proofthat the writer had not outgrown his habit of mockery; when theywere passed, and the reader came to the parts intended to refreshthe memory of Gratus, his voice trembled, and twice he stopped toregain his self-control. By a strong effort he continued. "'I recallfurther,'" he read, "'that thou didst make disposition of the familyof Hur'"--there the reader again paused and drew a long breath--"'bothof us at the time supposing the plan hit upon to be the most effectivepossible for the purposes in view, which were silence and delivery overto inevitable but natural death.'"

  Here Ben-Hur broke down utterly. The paper fell from his hands,and he covered his face.

  "They are dead--dead. I alone am left."

  The sheik had been a silent, but not unsympathetic, witness of theyoung man's suffering; now he arose and said, "Son of Arrius, it isfor me to beg thy pardon. Read the paper by thyself. When thou artstrong enough to give the rest of it to me, send word, and I willreturn."

  He went out of the tent, and nothing in all his life became himbetter.

  Ben-Hur flung himself on the divan and gave way to his feelings.When somewhat recovered, he recollected that a portion of the letterremained unread, and, taking it up, he resumed the reading. "Thouwilt remember," the missive ran, "what thou didst with the motherand sister of the malefactor; yet, if now I yield to a desire tolearn if they be living or dead"--Ben-Hur started, and read again,and then again, and at last broke into exclamation. "He does notknow they are dead; he does not know it! Blessed be the name ofthe Lord! there is yet hope." He finished the sentence, and wasstrengthened by it, and went on bravely to the end of the letter.

  "They are not dead," he said, after reflection; "they are not dead,or he would have heard of it."

  A second reading, more careful than the first, confirmed him inthe opinion. Then he sent for the sheik.

  "In coming to your hospitable tent, O sheik," he said, calmly,when the Arab was seated and they were alone, "it was not in mymind to speak of myself further than to assure you I had sufficienttraining to be intrusted with your horses. I declined to tell youmy history. But the chances which have sent this paper to my handand given it to me to be read are so strange that I feel bidden totrust you with everything. And I am the more inclined to do so byknowledge here conveyed that we are both of us threatened by thesame enemy, against whom it is needful that we make common cause.I will read the letter and give you explanation; after which youwill not wonder I was so moved. If you thought me weak or childish,you will then excuse me."

  The sheik held his peace, listening closely, until Ben-Hur came tothe paragraph in which he was particularly mentioned: "'I saw theJew yesterday in the Grove of Daphne;'" so ran the part, "'and ifhe be not there now, he is certainly in the neighborhood, making iteasy for me to keep him in eye. Indeed, wert thou to ask me wherehe is now, I should say, with the most positive assurance, he isto be found at the old Orchard of Palms.'"

  "A--h!" exclaimed Ilderim, in such a tone one might hardly sayhe was more surprised than angry; at the same time, he clutchedhis beard.

  "'At the old Orchard of Palms,'" Ben-Hur repeated, "'under thetent of the traitor Shiek Ilderim.'"

  "Traitor!--I?" the old man cried, in his shrillest tone, while lipand beard curled with ire, and on his forehead and neck the veinsswelled and beat as they would burst.

  "Yet a moment, sheik," said Ben-Hur, with a deprecatory gesture."Such is Messala's opinion of you. Hear his threat." And he readon--"'under the tent of the traitor Sheik Ilderim, who cannotlong escape our strong hand. Be not surprised if Maxentius,as his first measure, places the Arab on ship for forwardingto Rome.'"

  "To Rome! Me--Ilderim--sheik of ten thousand horsemen with spears--meto Rome!"

  He leaped rather than rose to his feet, his arms outstretched,his fingers spread and curved like claws, his eyes glitteringlike a serpent's.

  "O God!--nay, by all the gods except of Rome!--when shall thisinsolence end? A freeman am I; free are my people. Must we dieslaves? Or, worse, must I live a dog, crawling to a master'sfeet? Must I lick his hand, lest he lash me? What is mine is notmine; I am not my own; for breath of body I must be beholden toa Roman. Oh, if I were young again! Oh, could I shake off twentyyears--or ten--or five!"

  He ground his teeth and shook his hands overhead; then, under theimpulse of another idea, he walked away and back again to Ben-Hurswiftly, and caught his shoulder with a strong grasp.

  "If I were as thou, son of Arrius--as young, as strong, as practisedin arms; if I had a motive hissing me to revenge--a motive, like thine,great enough to make hate holy-- Away with disguise on thy part and onmine! Son of Hur, son of Hur, I say--"

  At that name all the currents of Ben-Hur's blood stopped; surprised,bewildered, he gazed into the Arab's eyes, now close to his,and fiercely bright.

  "Son of Hur, I say, were I as thou, with half thy wrongs, bearingabout with me memories like thine, I would not, I could not, rest."Never pausing, his words following each other torrent-like, the oldman swept on. "To all my grievances, I would add those of the world,and devote myself to vengeance. From land to land I would go firingall mankind. No war for freedom but should find me engaged; no battleagainst Rome in which I would not bear a part. I would turn Parthian,if I could not better. If men failed me, still I would not give overth
e effort--ha, ha, ha! By the splendor of God! I would herd withwolves, and make friends of lions and tigers, in hope of marshallingthem against the common enemy. I would use every weapon. So my victimswere Romans, I would rejoice in slaughter. Quarter I would not ask;quarter I would not give. To the flames everything Roman; to thesword every Roman born. Of nights I would pray the gods, the goodand the bad alike, to lend me their special terrors--tempests,drought, heat, cold, and all the nameless poisons they let loosein air, all the thousand things of which men die on sea and onland. Oh, I could not sleep. I--I--"

  The sheik stopped for want of breath, panting, wringing his hands.And, sooth to say, of all the passionate burst Ben-Hur retainedbut a vague impression wrought by fiery eyes, a piercing voice,and a rage too intense for coherent expression.

  For the first time in years, the desolate youth heard himselfaddressed by his proper name. One man at least knew him,and acknowledged it without demand of identity; and he anArab fresh from the desert!

  How came the man by his knowledge? The letter? No. It told thecruelties from which his family had suffered; it told the storyof his own misfortunes, but it did not say he was the very victimwhose escape from doom was the theme of the heartless narrative.That was the point of explanation he had notified the sheik wouldfollow the reading of the letter. He was pleased, and thrilled withhope restored, yet kept an air of calmness.

  "Good sheik, tell me how you came by this letter."

  "My people keep the roads between cities," Ilderim answered, bluntly."They took it from a courier."

  "Are they known to be thy people?"

  "No. To the world they are robbers, whom it is mine to catch andslay."

  "Again, sheik. You call me son of Hur--my father's name. I didnot think myself known to a person on earth. How came you by theknowledge?"

  Ilderim hesitated; but, rallying, he answered, "I know you, yet Iam not free to tell you more."

  "Some one holds you in restraint?"

  The sheik closed his mouth, and walked away; but, observing Ben-Hur'sdisappointment, he came back, and said, "Let us say no more about thematter now. I will go to town; when I return, I may talk to you fully.Give me the letter."

  Ilderim rolled the papyrus carefully, restored it to its envelopes,and became once more all energy.

  "What sayest thou?" he asked, while waiting for his horse andretinue. "I told what I would do, were I thou, and thou hastmade no answer."

  "I intended to answer, sheik, and I will." Ben-Hur's countenanceand voice changed with the feeling invoked. "All thou hast said,I will do--all at least in the power of a man. I devoted myselfto vengeance long ago. Every hour of the five years passed, I havelived with no other thought. I have taken no respite. I have hadno pleasures of youth. The blandishments of Rome were not for me.I wanted her to educate me for revenge. I resorted to her mostfamous masters and professors--not those of rhetoric or philosophy:alas! I had no time for them. The arts essential to a fighting-manwere my desire. I associated with gladiators, and with winners ofprizes in the Circus; and they were my teachers. The drill-mastersin the great camp accepted me as a scholar, and were proud of myattainments in their line. O sheik, I am a soldier; but the thingsof which I dream require me to be a captain. With that thought,I have taken part in the campaign against the Parthians; when itis over, then, if the Lord spare my life and strength--then"--heraised his clenched hands, and spoke vehemently--"then I will be anenemy Roman-taught in all things; then Rome shall account to me inRoman lives for her ills. You have my answer, sheik."

  Ilderim put an arm over his shoulder, and kissed him, saying,passionately, "If thy God favor thee not, son of Hur, it isbecause he is dead. Take thou this from me--sworn to, if so thypreference run: thou shalt have my hands, and their fulness--men,horses, camels, and the desert for preparation. I swear it! Forthe present, enough. Thou shalt see or hear from me before night."

  Turning abruptly off, the sheik was speedily on the road to thecity.