"then thou wilt not go with me this morning?"
"nay, i must not; this morning i am to learn how to spin. the mother of jesus will teach me; afterward i shall make for thee a tunic. now thou seest what a thing it is to have eyes." anat looked down at the small hands which lay folded in her lap. "these," she continued, spreading out the slender brown fingers, "have hitherto been as idle as the hands of a princess, but the lady mary says that they must learn many things, if with them i would serve him that healed me."
seth looked half regretfully into the eager face. "then we shall no more dwell by ourselves as heretofore? hast thou forgotten the desert?"
"i have not forgotten, but i would like to stay here."
"and the dromedary?"
"thou must find it. it was not i who would leave it without in the hands of a stranger. the lord of the desert is just in requiring it at thy hands."
the lad turned away. "be it so," he cried angrily. "till i have found it, thou wilt see my face no more; if that be never, why then----"
"seth, seth! stay a moment, my brother! do not leave me so!" but he was gone, and without turning his head.
"how can i find the beast?" he muttered to himself crossly, as he plunged into the labyrinth of narrow streets. "i have asked everywhere for the man gestas, no one knows him; as for the white dromedary, men look at me as if i were a witless fool when i speak of it. if now i were in egypt, i should offer a libation to ptah hotep, or fetch a garland to the temple of the sacred bull, then might i receive wisdom; if i pray to the gods of this land, how will they heed me who am an alien?" at this point in his meditation the lad flung himself down in the shadow of an archway, his eyes following idly the darting flight of the sparrows overhead; something in their noisy crying brought back the memory of the day when he bent half distracted over the unconscious form of anat. "there is a god who can hear somewhere," he said half aloud. "for he both heard and answered the man who healed anat; yet is it a great thing to heal blindness, i dare not ask him to help me find a beast of burden. is there not some smaller god who cares for common things? 'not a sparrow falleth to the ground without your father.'" where had he heard those words? it was john who had spoken them after the scourging before the council. "that means his father, not mine;" he went on meditatively, "i am not a jew. yet are there sparrows in egypt also; if i pray to this god, he will not i suppose strike me dead; i will try and see what comes of it. god of this land--jesus--if that be thy name! i am as thou seest an egyptian, and i know not what offering is pleasing unto thee; and if i knew i could not provide it, for i am poorer than yonder sparrow. yet if it be true that thou dost care for such, help me also, i pray thee, to find the white dromedary, which is justly required at my hands by the lord of the desert."
when he had prayed thus, a vague comfort stole into his heart; he opened his eyes and looking down the street, saw coming toward him two men. one of them he instantly recognized as the man in whose keeping he had left the dromedary; with a little cry of joy he started to his feet, but shrank back again into the archway, and seeing a broken place in the wall, he squeezed himself into it and stood motionless. "i will follow after them when they have passed by," he thought within himself. "it may be that so i shall come upon the beast unawares; if he sees me, it will not come to pass."
but the two paused beneath the archway, and finally sat down on the stones, neither of them noticing the motionless figure in the black shadow of the broken wall.
"give me thy flask if thou hast in it a swallow of wine; i am parched with the heat," said the one who was called gestas.
"i have no wine," replied the other; "water is better."
"pah!" grunted gestas testily, motioning away the proffered flask. "i do not drink water; 'tis fit only for the beasts."
"thou art assuredly right, good friend; the best of the wine is not too good for thee. do but a trifling service for me, and thou shalt not lack for the necessary gold."
"what wouldst thou?"
the jew hesitated for a moment as if he scarcely knew how to proceed. seth cautiously peered out from his hidden nook; he saw that the man was well dressed and had, moreover, an air of importance. he listened eagerly for his next words.
"thou art the man who witnessed before pilate against the malefactors, dumachus and titus, who afterward suffered with the nazarene."
gestas started visibly, he drew away a little and fixed his small twinkling eyes on his companion with a mixture of bravado and apprehension.
"what if i be?" he said at length. "i was discharged by the governor with but twenty stripes."
"ay, but since then thou hast also--" here the speaker lowered his voice so that seth lost what followed.
gestas sprang to his feet with a great oath, and half drew his knife. "thou knowest too much by half," he cried; "i am minded to send thee where thou mayest prate of this to the shades."
"peace, braggart!" said his companion, a shade of contempt in his voice. "i am not unarmed. but thou canst see that had i spoken the word thou wouldst even now be rotting without the walls. i did not choose, because--thou canst serve me. sit down and listen."
gestas obeyed. "it is murder, i suppose," he said sullenly. "i know you all, you rich men! you force us poor devils to accomplish your black deeds, and dole out to us a scanty pittance from your hoarded gold; but if there be other recompense, such as the scourge or the cross, it is ours without grudging. thirty pieces of silver they paid for the nazarene; i know, for i saw it."
"what if it be thirty pieces of gold this time?" said the jew softly. "the iscariot was an ignorant galilean; he was satisfied with the silver. it was enough," he added with a shrug, "for he hanged himself immediately thereafter because of his remorse. now thou wouldst not do that, i dare venture?"
"i? never! else i had been dead a score of times already. but the matter in hand, what is it? i make no bargain, understand, till i know."
"'tis simple enough--and--safe. only the disposal of a man without family, and--yes--without friends. he is moreover blood-guilty; his removal is therefore lawful."
"why then dost thou----"
"why do i not perform the deed myself? a proper question; thou hast understanding. it is--most sapient gestas--not my affair. i represent another; that other is not in a position to avenge himself personally, nevertheless he will be avenged. wilt thou undertake this--for thirty pieces of gold?"
"ten pieces now--thirty afterward, and i will do it."
"say five now!"
"nay, ten; i have no mind to risk my life for a pittance."
the other produced his wallet, albeit with some show of reluctance, and passed it into the hand of gestas. "there are just ten pieces within," he remarked. "thou mayest count them."
gestas fumbled over the coins deliberately, counting them in a sibilant whisper. "one--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten. yes ten--and a bit of silver." then he lifted the pouch to the light and looked at it critically; "i will keep this also--and the silver," he added with a knowing leer.
"of course, keep that also," said his companion, eying him with an inscrutable smile. "but i have not told thee the man's name. his head must thou deliver to me this very night at midnight, if thou wouldst receive the thirty pieces. it is known to me where thou art encamped with thy followers."
"i make no secret of that," said gestas with a boastful laugh. "there is good water for our beasts in the valley of hinnom, and it is not too far from the highway. if therefore thou wilt be in waiting just without the jaffa gate, the head shall be delivered into thy hand at the hour named; if not to-night, why then to-morrow night; one must have time to snare the bird. but thou hast not yet told me the name."
"true; well then listen!" leaning forward, the jew whispered for a little space into the ear of gestas, who nodded twice or thrice as if he understood.
"i know the man," he said. "no one better; he should by right be about another business," then he laughed aloud as if something afforded him much secret amusement. "i have done for the father, i am once avenged; now i will be twice avenged, which is better. i know also how to lure him into a safe place. thou wilt not fail with the thirty pieces?"
"i swear by the temple that i will not fail."
"good! now there is another matter; i have in my camp a dromedary of great swiftness which i wish to dispose of at a fair price; the animal is young, docile, well trained; it is moreover of a white color; i have never seen the like. i bought the beast of a caravan and paid for it a great sum."
"no doubt," replied his companion suavely; "but let us first finish the matter in hand. one thing at a time, and diligently done, maketh a well ordered life," he continued piously. "so then i leave the affair in thy hands."
"thou mayest trust me!" cried gestas with a great laugh; he rose as he spoke and brought down his broad palm on the other man's shoulder with a sounding thwack. "thou hast made no mistake in putting the matter into my hands, it will--" here he stopped short and stared fixedly into the shadow of the arch. "body of jove!" he exclaimed. "it seems that we are not alone!" and reaching forward, he grasped the wretched seth by the shoulder and dragged him forth into the sunlight.
"what wast thou doing there, thou devil's imp? nay, but thou shalt answer dearly for this."
but seth had not shifted for himself all his thirteen years of life for naught. he instantly perceived that the man did not recognize him; rubbing his eyes stupidly, he stammered out something about sleeping soundly. then he stretched out his hand toward the jew who was regarding him suspiciously from under his bent brows, and whined out a petition for alms.
"wilt thou that i give thee a gold piece?" said gestas in the greek tongue.
seth regarded him blankly. "i do not understand, honored sir," he said humbly.
the companion of gestas looked relieved. "it is safe enough if the beggar understood us not," he said. "best take him along with you and make him secure till afterward; then release him."
"it may be that he doth not understand," rejoined gestas, staring fixedly at the lad with his fierce red eyes; "yet there is but one kind of a man who can be trusted to tell no tales, and that is a dead man. all languages are alike to the tongue that hath ceased to move; any other tongue is to be feared."
the other shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "ah well, do with him as thou wilt; life can be nothing to such as he. only take him away. till the hour and place of our agreement, farewell!" and turning he walked rapidly away, without once looking behind him.
for an instant seth meditated flight; but the burly figure of gestas was planted directly in front of him; to elude him would be impossible. raising his eyes he saw the brown head and bright eyes of a sparrow, perched securely upon the ledge of the arch above him; the little creature was regarding the scene with apparent curiosity. presently with a wild cry it darted away to join its fellows. the lad followed its flight with envious eyes, and for the second time he remembered the strange words of john, "not a sparrow falleth to the ground without your father." again he prayed to the unknown god who minded even the little wild things of the air, and as before he was comforted.
gestas was evidently considering the situation with care, for he continued to stand silent before his prisoner, his arms akimbo, his small savage eyes riveted upon the figure before him. "wouldst thou that i release thee?" he asked suddenly in the greek tongue.
"if it please thee, good sir," responded seth, quite off his guard.
gestas smiled evilly. "it doth not please me, boy. now march before me--so. remember that i have in my hand a knife." and grasping the boy by the shoulders, he shoved him with a kind of terrible gentleness into the street.
like one in a dream the lad walked before his captor. from time to time he looked wildly about in the vain hope of rescue, but the few passers-by went about their business with unseeing eyes, and an occasional prick of the knife from behind warned him that instant death awaited him should he venture to cry out. at length they had passed quite out of the city; here gestas paused for a moment, and seeing that no one was by, he proceeded to bind the lad's hands securely behind his back.
"thou art such a proper liar," he remarked with a grin, "that i am minded to leave thee alive for a while longer." seth made no reply, nor did he cry out when gestas playfully thrust the knife within a hair's breadth of his throat.
"if i must die," he thought, "i will at least die like a man." then he remembered anat sitting happily at her spinning at the feet of the gentle mary; the tears rose to his eyes and brimming over rolled in great drops down his brown cheeks. he shook them off valiantly. "tears do not become a man," he said to himself sternly.
"come, come, my lad," cried gestas, "my business requireth haste as well as diligence. we must be getting on." then feeling very merry indeed, he put up his knife and fetched out his newly-acquired pouch; shaking it so that all the gold pieces within clinked musically, he strode along, chanting a pagan rhyme of bacchus and the pleasures of the vine.
after a time they reached one of the narrow denies which wind between the hills on either side of the valley of hinnom, and here they presently came upon the encampment, cunningly placed within a copse of low-growing trees on the edge of a stream.
half a score of men were scattered about upon the greensward, some of them eating and drinking, others playing at dice, and others still stretched out at full length in the shade asleep.
the arrival of gestas and his prisoner was greeted with a shout of laughter. "ha! our worthy chief hath made a notable capture," cried one, sauntering up to seth and looking down at him. "a mighty man of valor is he truly to accomplish the overthrow of such as this. how many bags of gold didst thou take from him?"
gestas winked significantly. "i shall take three, if the gods prosper me," he replied; then he bound the lad's ankles together, and bidding the man keep an eye upon the prisoner, he threw himself down upon the ground and demanded food and drink. two or three others gathered about him, and to these he talked rapidly in low tones as he ate; but nothing of what was being said reached the ears of seth, who was beginning to suffer intense agony from the tightness of the cords with which his wrists and ankles were bound.
he ventured at length to speak of this to the man who had been detailed to watch him; his guard good-naturedly loosened the bonds, then relapsed into a doze, which presently deepened into a heavy sleep.
as the hours crept slowly by, seth worked cautiously and unceasingly to loosen further the cords at his wrists. towards evening he found to his intense joy that his hands were free. no one noticed him; the man at his feet still slept heavily; and after awhile he ventured stealthily to undo the thongs which bound his feet together; then he sat motionless, not daring to stir till the shadows should deepen.
as evening drew on, gestas accompanied by two of the other men left the camp; he cast a glance in the direction of the lad as he passed by him, and hesitated for a moment as if he were minded to examine his bonds, but finally went his way. no sooner had he disappeared, than the lad crept away among the trees and bushes; before many minutes he had reached the edge of the thicket, here he paused breathlessly to listen, then rising to his feet, ran like the wind in the direction of the city.
"i must find ben hesed," he said. "he will know what to do."
