"No; I went with my uncle, who was slain: he was my only companion thither," said the trembling maiden, thankful to be able with truth to say what would bring no person into peril.

There was a brief pause, to Zarah inexpressibly awful; then Antiochus Epiphanes, he who had looked on the dying agonies of Solomona and her sons, said in his stern voice of command, "I am not wont to bid thrice, and woe to those who presume to neglect my bidding. Throw incense on that fire, or the consequences be upon your own head. Others have experienced ere this what it is to brave my displeasure and disobey my command."

Bewildered and terrified, Zarah suffered, as if scarcely conscious of the import of the act, a few grains of incense to be put into her hand, then, recovering her self-possession, she flung them from her with a look of aversion and horror.

"Ha! is it so?" thundered Antiochus; "if the incense go not into the fire, the hand that held it shall go. Executioners, do your work!"

Four of the fierce black slaves approached the young Hebrew maiden.

She clasped her hands, and shrieked out, "Father, save me!" It was no mortal to whom she addressed that wild cry for help.

But the cry was answered by a mortal. Pollux, as if moved by an irresistible impulse, sprang forward, by a gesture of his hand arrested the movements of the executioners, and bent his knee before Epiphanes.

"The mighty king," he began, with a great effort to appear indifferent and at his ease; "the mighty king has spoken of magicians who have skill to force out sounds from lips that are dumb. I dispute not the power of yonder black magi, but I should deem one their superior in the mysterious art who could bring songs rather than shrieks from a Hebrew; who could subdue the proud will rather than torture the body. Oh, ill.u.s.trious monarch of the world, let me but for twenty-four hours try my potent spells upon this young rebel, and I will answer for it with my head that, before the twenty-four hours be past, she shall gladly and cheerfully do sacrifice to any G.o.d in Olympus, feast on swine's flesh, dance as a Bacchante, or drink wine, like Belshazzar of old, out of the vessels of the Temple. Try my powers, O king, and according to my failure or success, so be the maiden's fate and mine!"

Antiochus hesitated; with a look of keen suspicion he regarded the kneeling courtier. Zarah watched the king's countenance with breathless anxiety--a respite even of twenty-four hours seemed to the poor captive so priceless a boon. Intense was her relief when she heard the tyrant's reply to Pollux:--

"Twenty-four hours' delay you have asked, and I grant. It were a n.o.bler triumph to make a proselyte than to slay a victim. I myself, as you well know, Pollux," continued the tyrant, with sarcastic emphasis, "won such a triumph myself. Take yonder obstinate Jewess, and work upon her your spells, whatever they may be; but hear my final decision," the king raised his hand and uttered a deep oath: "if to-morrow you have failed in doing what you now undertake to perform, if the girl be obdurate still, the moment when she refuses to do sacrifice shall be your last upon earth--she shall go to the furnace, and her protector to the block."

And then, with an imperious gesture of command, Antiochus dismissed the a.s.sembly.

CHAPTER XXII.

A BREATHING s.p.a.cE.

The captive was not taken back to prison-chamber which she had occupied during the preceding night, but to an apartment in the palace--one belonging to the suite appropriated to Pollux. She was confined within a room so luxurious, that, save from the door being fastened to prevent her exit, and there being no possibility of escaping through the latticed window, Zarah could scarcely have realized that she was a prisoner still. The floor of the apartment was inlaid with costly marbles; on the walls were depicted scenes taken from mythological subjects; luxurious divans invited to repose; and vases, wreathed with brilliant flowers and filled with rose-water, were surrounded by others loaded with a profusion of fruit and a variety of dainties. The young Hebrew maiden, accustomed to the simplicity of Hada.s.sah's humble home, gazed around in wonder.

When left alone by the guards, the first impulse of the captive was to kneel and return thanks to her heavenly Protector for the merciful respite granted to her. Zarah was young, and hope was strong within her. What might not happen in the s.p.a.ce of twenty-four hours to effect complete deliverance! She then laved her face, hands, and arms, and the tresses of her long hair, in the cool, fragrant water, and found great refreshment from her ablutions. It was then with a sense of enjoyment, at which she herself was surprised, that Zarah partook of the fruit before her. Nature had been almost exhausted, not only by the terrible excitement and alarm which the maiden had had to endure, but by sleeplessness and abstinence from food. Coa.r.s.e bread had indeed been brought to her in her prison, but had remained untouched, not only because the poor captive had had no appet.i.te for eating, but because the bread, being leavened, was not at that season lawful food for a Jewess. Zarah now carefully abstained from any part of the collation which she deemed might contain anything which Moses had judged unclean, and chiefly partook of the fruits, which were pure, as G.o.d Himself had made them, and which were, of all kinds of food, that most refreshing to her parched and burning lips.

"How good is my Lord, to spread a table for me thus in this wilderness of trial!" murmured Zarah; and she felt much as the Israelites must have felt when they first saw the glistening bread of heaven lying on the face of the desert. The maiden's spirit was soothed and cheered, as well as her frame refreshed; and, reclining on one of the luxurious divans, she was able with tolerable calmness to review the exciting events of the day.

"How thankful I am that, with all my cowardice and weakness, I was preserved by my Lord from doing anything very wicked!" thought Zarah.

"I was not suffered either to betray my friends or to deny my G.o.d; and yet my faith almost failed me. I could scarcely endure the terror: how could I endure the pain? But will not He who supported me under the one sustain me also through the other, if I must die for my faith to-morrow before that terrible king? I will not weary myself by thinking; I will just trust all to my G.o.d. It is so sweet to rest in His love, like a babe on her mother's bosom."

Zarah lay perfectly still for some time, letting her overstrained nerves regain their usual tone. It was such a comfort to be quite alone, with no sound to disturb save the cooing of doves from a garden which separated the palace of Epiphanes from Mount Zion.

The young captive then arose, went to the lattice, and looked forth.

Pleasant to the sight was the rich foliage of the juniper and acacia, the terebinth and the palm, the orange, almond, and citron, watered from marble-bordered tanks by artificial irrigation, which counteracted the effects of a season sultry and dry. Here and there fountains threw up their sparkling waters, transformed to diamonds in the sun. But the eyes of the maid of Judah wandered beyond this paradise of beauty, created for the pleasure of a tyrant, and rested on the holy Mount and the sacred Temple on its summit. If the very stones, nay, the dust, of Jerusalem have an interest to Gentile strangers, with what feelings must a child of Abraham regard the spot on which the Temple was reared!

As Zarah gazed on the holy pile before her, words of Scripture came into the mind of Hada.s.sah's grand-daughter, which filled her with a joy which was indeed nourished by the dew of heavenly hope, but had its root in earthly affection. Slowly and emphatically Zarah repeated to herself: "_Also the sons of the stranger, that join themselves to the Lord, to serve Him, and to love the name of the Lord, to be his servants, every one that keepeth the Sabbath from polluting it, and taketh hold of My covenant; even them will I bring to My holy mountain, and make them joyful in My house of prayer: for Mine house shall be called an house of prayer for all people_" (Isa. lvi. 6, 7).

"Oh, blessed promise!" exclaimed Zarah. "Israel has been, like Joseph, the chosen amongst many brethren, to wear the many-coloured robe prepared by his Father, and to go first, through bondage and tribulation, to dignity and honour. But his brethren are not forgotten: he shall yet be a blessing to them all, even to them who have hated and sold him. Through Israel shall light spread throughout the dark world, and with the bread of life shall the hungry nations be fed."

Zarah was interrupted in her musings by the entrance of Nubian slaves, who silently replenished the vases, lighted silver lamps as the day was closing, placed rich garments upon the divan, and then retired from her presence. Their coming had caused a flutter in the timid heart of the captive; and it was a relief when they had left her again to that solitude which scarcely seemed to be loneliness, so sweet were the thoughts which had been her companions. Zarah went up to the divan, and looked admiringly on the silken robes and richly-embroidered veil.

"These are meant for my wear," said the maiden; "but I will not touch them. The Gentiles would allure me, as the serpent allured Eve our mother, by the l.u.s.t of the eyes and the pride of life. Embroidered robes are not for the prisoner, nor silver zone for the martyr. This simple blue garment, spun and woven by my own hands, is good enough to die in."

Zarah watched the sun as it sank beneath the western horizon, its last beams lingering on the pinnacles of the Temple.

"Perhaps this will be my last evening on earth," thought the prisoner.

"Ere the sun set again, I may have entered into eternal rest." A deep sense of holy peace stole into the maiden's heart, though the expression of her beautiful countenance was pensive as she meditated on the future. "I shall no more join in worship with my brethren below; but perhaps, while they gather together in secret, with perils around them, my eyes shall see the King in His beauty, shall behold the land that is very far off. And will not He for whom I die hear now my feeble prayers for those whom I leave behind? Never have I felt that I could plead with such child-like confidence before Him as I do now; praying not only for myself, but for those who are dearer than self.

Oh, may the Lord hear, and graciously answer, the supplications of His child!"

Zarah knelt down, and poured out her simple Prayer. First, she besought G.o.d for Hada.s.sah; that He would comfort the bereaved one, grant her rest from her tribulation, and give her the desire of her heart. Tears mingled with this prayer, as Zarah thought of the desolation to which the aged widow was left. "Let her not weep long for me," murmured the maiden; "and oh, never let her want a loving one to tend her in sickness and comfort her in sorrow, better than I could have done." The Hebrew girl then prayed for her country, and for those who were fighting for its freedom; especially for Judas Maccabeus, that G.o.d would be his shield and defender, and cover his head in the day of battle. Zarah forgot not her unknown father. She now pleaded for him more fervently than she had ever pleaded before; and, by some mysterious connection in her mind, thoughts of her lost parent linked themselves to remembrance of the generous courtier to whose intercession she had owed her present respite from torture and death.

The young prisoner implored her Lord not to let the Syrian suffer for his kindness to a stranger, but to requite it sevenfold into his own bosom.

Zarah did not yet rise from her knees. Her supplications became yet more fervent as she prayed for another, dearest of all. No fear of displeasing G.o.d now marred the comfort which the maiden found in supplication for a Gentile. It was not sinful, she thought, for the dying to love. Her misery might be the means which G.o.d would deign to employ in winning Lycidas from the errors of idolatrous worship. She might be permitted, as it were to beckon to her beloved from the other side of the grave.

Zarah arose from her devotions feeling almost happy. It seemed to her as if the worst bitterness of death were already pa.s.sed. She again partook, with a thankful spirit, of needful refreshment, and afterwards laid herself down to rest. The prisoner had had no refreshing sleep during the preceding terrible night, and now her eyelids were heavy.

Soft slumber stole over Zarah, as the Psalmist's words were on her lips, _I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety_.

CHAPTER XXIII.

FOUND AT LAST.

So profound was the slumber of the weary girl that she heard not the sound of opening the door, nor a step on the marble floor, and lay unconscious of the yearning, anxious, mournful gaze that was fixed upon her she slept.

"Lovely, most lovely--fairer even than her mother!" murmured Pollux, as he stood beside the couch of Zarah, upon whose slumbering form softly fell the light from a silver lamp. "Even so beautiful and so pure lay my Naomi, when the angel of death had in mercy called her soul away, and bereft me of a gift of which I was so unworthy."

What bitter memories of early years pa.s.sed through the renegade's soul as he spoke! Happy days, when there was no shame on the brow, no gnawing worm in the conscience--when he had feared the face of no man, and had dared to lift his eyes towards heaven, and his heart to One who dwelt there! Blessed days, never, never to come again!

"Hark! she speaks in her sleep. What says she?"

Pollux bent down his head to listen, and caught the faint murmur, "My poor, poor father!"

The groan which burst from the apostate's lips awoke the sleeper.

Zarah started into a sitting posture, and, with a gesture of alarm, threw back the long tresses which had partly fallen over her face.

"Fear not, poor child; I would not harm you," said Pollux, in a gentle, soothing tone, which restored Zarah's confidence at once.

"Oh no! I will not fear you!" she cried, recognizing her protector; "it was you--the G.o.d of Jacob requite you for it!--it was you who saved me to-day."

"And will do so again," said Pollux, as he seated himself at Zarah's side; "but I cannot save you in spite of yourself. You must let yourself be guided by me."

"What would you have me do?" asked Zarah.

"Bend to the force of circ.u.mstances, humour the mighty king, give an outward obedience to his will. I have pledged myself that you should do so. There is nothing so dreadful, after all," continued the courtier, forcing a smile, "in bowing the knee as others do, or in burning a few grains of incense. It is but a little matter."

"A little matter!" repeated Zarah, opening wide her eyes in innocent surprise; "is it a little matter for me to throw away my soul, and break the heart of Hada.s.sah?"

Pollux winced on hearing the name, but quickly recovering himself, observed, "The heart of no woman would be thus broken. She would feel a pang less keen at your falling away for a time, than that which would wring her soul should you die by the executioner's hand."

"You have never seen Hada.s.sah; you do not know her!" exclaimed Zarah with spirit; "she has told me herself that she would rather lose seven children by death than one by apostasy from G.o.d!"