"Certainly I will not say anything against him, in future, Mary.

"And now, let us be going. I am very anxious about my poor mother.

We will follow the road to the spot where we left her. By the time we get there, morning will be breaking. We will inquire for her, at every village we pa.s.s through; for I am sure she cannot have gone far. The Romans did not take the a.s.ses but, even with them, she could not have traveled far, and probably took shelter at the first place which she came to."

This proved to be the case. At the first village they arrived at after pa.s.sing the spot at which they had been taken captives, they heard that, late the evening before, a woman had arrived in sore distress. She was leading two a.s.ses, which she seemed too feeble to mount. She stated that her son and daughter had been carried away by the Romans; and she had been received, for the night, in the princ.i.p.al house in the village.

Martha's delight, when John and Mary entered the house where she had been sheltered, was beyond words. She fell on their neck and kissed them, with broken sentences of thankfulness to G.o.d at their deliverance; and it was some time before she was sufficiently calm to hear how their escape had been effected, by the night attack upon the Romans by the country people. She was scarcely surprised when she heard that John had effected his escape, and summoned the people to rise to rescue them.

"You told me to trust to you to save Mary, John; and I have kept on saying your words, over and over again, to myself. It seemed to me as if I did not quite understand them, and yet there was comfort in them. I could not even think what you could do to help Mary; and yet it appeared as if you, yourself, must have some hope."

As soon as Martha was sufficiently recovered from her emotions to resume their journey, the party again started. They made a detour to avoid Hippos for, as John said, there might be inquiries as to everyone who was noticed coming from the direction of the scene of the struggle. They made many halts by the way, for Martha was scarcely able to retain her seat on the donkey, and even Mary was greatly shaken by the event of her captivity and rescue. During the heat of the day they remained under the shade of some trees, and the sun was setting when they approached the farm.

Simon and the men hurried out, when the sound of the a.s.ses' feet was heard. Martha burst into tears, as he a.s.sisted her to alight.

"What ails you, wife? I trust that no evil has befallen you by the way. Where are the maids?

"Why, Mary, my child, you look pale, too!"

"No wonder, uncle, that aunt is shaken, and that I look pale. For John, and I, and Jonas were taken captives by the Romans, who carried us off to sell as slaves, leaving poor mother behind."

"And how then have you escaped, child?"

"John and Jonas got away from them, and raised all the country; for the Romans had done much harm, killing, and carrying away captives, and burning. So when he called them the men took up arms, and fell upon the Romans at night and slew them all, and rescued me, and some fifty other captives who had fallen into their hands."

Simon asked no further questions, for the time, but helped Martha into the house, and then handed her over to the care of Mary and, half an hour later, she had recovered sufficiently to return to the room; and sit there, holding Simon's hand in quiet happiness, and watching Mary as she resumed her accustomed tasks, and a.s.sisted old Isaac in preparing supper.

"Everything looks just as it was, mother. I could hardly have believed things would have got on so well, without me to look after them. And there are quant.i.ties of grapes on the vines, still. They are too ripe for wine, but they will last us, for eating, for months, and that is ever so much better than making them into wine--"

She stopped, for Simon had taken his place at the head of the table; and offered up thanks, in the name of the whole household, for the mercies that had been vouchsafed to them; and especially that they were all, once again, a.s.sembled together in their house, without there being one vacant place.

Then the meal began. While it was eaten, many questions were asked, on both sides; Simon inquiring about his brother-in-law, and his family, and the life they had led at the farm; Martha asking after their neighbors--who had suffered, and who had escaped without loss or harm. When Isaac and the men retired, Jonas rose also to go, but Simon stopped him.

"Remain with us, Jonas. Your life has been strangely cast in that of John's, and I would that, henceforth, you take your place as one of the family. You saved his life at Jotapata, and you will henceforth be as an adopted son to me.

"Martha, I know that you will spare some of your affection for the lad, who is as a younger brother to John; and who would, I believe--nay I feel sure--if need be, give his life for his friend."

"I would do so, indeed," Jonas said, simply. "He found me an outcast, whom none cared for. He has treated me like a brother, and I would gladly die for him."

Martha said a few kind words to Jonas, whose quiet and somewhat subdued manner, and whose evident affection for John, had greatly pleased her; and Mary gave him a little nod, which signified that she gladly accepted him as one of the family.

"And now, Martha," Simon said, "you have not yet told me how proud you must feel, in the doings of our son. Our friends here are never weary of congratulating me; and truly I feel thankful that a son of mine should have done such deeds, and that the Lord should have chosen him, to use him as an instrument of his will."

"My dear father," John interrupted, "I have told you that there is nothing at all out of the way in what we have done. Jonas and the others did just as much as I did, and methinks that some of them make much more than is needful of our skirmishes, and praise me because in so doing they praise themselves, who did as much as I did."

"But I do not understand you, Simon," Martha said. "I know that John fought bravely at Jotapata, and that it was marvelous that he and Jonas escaped, when so many fell. Is it this that you are speaking of?"

"What! Has John said nothing about what he has been doing, since?"

Simon asked, in surprise.

"No, father, I said nothing about it," John said, before his mother could speak. "I thought, in the first place, that you would like to tell them; and in the next, the people there had heard such magnified reports that I could not, for very shame, lay claim to be the hero they had pictured to themselves."

"But what has he done?" Martha asked, more and more surprised; while Mary, at his last words, sprang to her feet, and stood looking at him with an intent and eager face.

"He should have told you, Martha," Simon said. "It is no light thing that this son of ours has done. Young as he is, the eyes of the people are upon them. For with a small band, which he gathered here, he hara.s.sed the enemy several days and, boldly entering their camp, destroyed it by fire."

"Oh, John!" Mary said, in a low voice; while Martha exclaimed:

"What! Is the John, of whom we have heard so much--the young man, of whom the people speak as their future leader--our boy? You cannot mean it, Simon!"

"There is no mistake about it, Martha. The lad came to me; and said he thought that, with a small band, he could cause much trouble to the Romans. So I told him he could go, not knowing whether he spoke from the restlessness of youth, or because it was the will of the Lord that he should go and fight for the country. Indeed, it seemed to many that his marvelous escape from Jotapata showed that G.o.d had need of him. So I did not withstand him. There were many from the villages round who were ready to join themselves to him, and follow him, for the fame of his escape had made him much talked of.

"So he went, with twenty-four followers and, of course, Jonas here; and truly he did, as all men say, great things. And though he saved not Gamala--as indeed could not have been done, save by a miracle of G.o.d, with so small a band--he did much and, by the burning of their camp, not only struck a heavy blow upon the Romans, but he inspired the people with hope.

"Before, it seemed that to resist the Romans was to bring certain destruction upon those who adventured it; now men see that with prudence, united with bravery, much may be done and, in the spring, John will be followed by a great gathering of fighting men, from all the country round."

Martha sat, in speechless surprise, looking at her son.

"My dear mother," John said, "what I told you before, when you were praising the unknown John, is equally true now that it is John your son. We acted with common sense which, so far, no one seems to have exercised in our struggle with the Romans. We just kept out of their reach, and took good care never to come to actual blows with them. We constantly threatened them; and compelled them, who knew nothing of our numbers or strength, to cease working.

"As to the burning their camp, of course there was a certain amount of danger in it, but one cannot make war without danger. We crept through their sentries into the camp, in the night, and set it on fire; and then made our escape, as best we could. As only one of our number was killed; and he from falling over a precipice, and not by the sword of the Romans, you see the peril could not have been very great.

"It was just as I said, that because we did not throw away our lives, but were prudent and cautious, we succeeded. People have made a great fuss about it, because it is the only success, however small, that we have gained over the Romans but, as my father says, it has certainly had a good effect. It has excited a feeling of hopefulness and, in the spring, many will take the field with the belief that, after all, the Romans are not invincible; and that those who fight against them are not merely throwing away their lives."

It was some time before Martha could realize that the hero, of which she had heard so much, was the quiet lad standing before her--her own son John.

"Simon," she said, at last, "morning and night I have prayed G.o.d to protect him of whom we heard so much, little thinking that it was my own son I was praying for. Tonight, I will thank him that he has so blessed me. a.s.suredly, G.o.d's hand is with him. The dangers he has run and the success that he has gained may, as he says, be magnified by report; nevertheless he has a.s.suredly withstood the Romans, even as David went out against Goliath. Tomorrow I will hear more of this; but I feel shaken with the journey, and with this strange news.

"Come, Mary, let us to bed!"

But Mary had already stolen away, without having said a single word, after her first exclamation.

John was at work soon after daybreak, next morning, for there was much to be done. The men were plowing up the stubble, ready for the sowing, Jonas had gone off, with Isaac, to drive in some cattle from the hills; and John set to work to dig up a patch of garden ground, near the house. He had not been long at work, when he saw Mary approaching. She came along quietly and slowly, with a step altogether unlike her own.

"Why, Mary, is that you?" he said, as she approached. "Why, Miriam herself could not walk slower.

"Are you ill this morning, child?" he asked, with a change of voice, as he saw how pale she was looking.

Mary did not speak until she came quite close; then she stopped, and looked at him with eyes full of tears.

"Oh, John," she began, "what can I say?"

"Why, my dear Mary, what on earth is the matter with you?" he said, throwing down his spade, and taking her hands in his.

"I am so unhappy, John."

"Unhappy!" John repeated. "What is making you unhappy, child?"

"It is so dreadful," she said, "to think that I, who ought to have known you so well--I, your betrothed wife--have been thinking that you were so mean as to be jealous; for I did think it was that, John, when you made light of the doings of the hero I had been thinking about so much, and would not allow that he had done anything particular. I thought that you were jealous, John; and now I know what you have done, and why you spoke so, I feel I am altogether unworthy of you."