"These are yours, my friend, for a single brief interview with my niece."

"Hark you!" said Euphorbus, taking the jewels into his hand. "I am willing to gratify and befriend you; but there are four Roman soldiers at the door of her cell, who permit no one but myself to go in or out."

"Are they not under your command?"

"No. They belong to Simon Magus, and obey only his word."

"Lead me to them."

The old man made a touching appeal to these rough men for permission to see his niece. Some large gold coins that he offered them had more influence than his eloquence. The a.s.surance of the keeper that he would shield them as far as possible, decided the matter; and Beltrezzor was admitted into Mary's dungeon.

The meeting between uncle and niece was affecting in the extreme. Mary had greatly changed since her imprisonment. A deadly pallor pervaded her beautiful countenance, and she had the air of one whose delicate nerves had almost given way under prolonged terrors. The old man clasped her in his arms, and the bitter tears fell from his face upon her golden hair.

"Oh uncle!" said she, "is it not horrible to contemplate? A young girl stripped and thrown to a lion before thousands of people! Are they not devils in human form who can witness such things?"

She trembled; her eyeb.a.l.l.s started with horror; the cold drops stood on her forehead; she clung frantically to her uncle.

"Oh! I have thought of it," she said, "until I shall go mad! And then to hear the lion roaring at night! It is fearful. He is kept very, very near me. Is not that cruel, cruel? I hear every sound he makes. I hear him growling and crunching when they feed him. I hear him yawning and whining as he impatiently paces his cage. Then at night he roars as if he thought he was in the pathless forest. Oh it freezes me! I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. I shall die!"

The head of the young woman fell upon the old man's breast.

"Have you never thought, my child," he said, tremulously, "of saving your life by renouncing your religion?"

"No, uncle! never! never!"

"That's a brave girl!" said he, tenderly kissing her forehead; "and you shall be saved without it."

"I am not afraid of death, uncle, but of the lion. But I doubt not-oh! I doubt not that Jesus will support me even in that last extremity. I cannot, however, control my fears."

The old man cheered her with many tender words and promises of help and a.s.surances of speedy rescue. Promising to visit her twice every day, he departed to mature some plan for her deliverance.

That evening he was plunged in a deep and painful reverie. Neither Martha nor Mary Magdalen could engage him in conversation. He sat with head between his hands. He retired early.

During the night Martha heard groans issuing from his chamber. She lit her lamp and entered softly. Beltrezzor, pale and haggard, lay upon his back with his face upturned to heaven. He had been weeping in his sleep. His lips were moving as if in prayer.

Faithful, loving old man!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ornament]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ornament]

XXVII.

_HELENA __AGAIN._

[Ill.u.s.tration: Initial]

When my uncle came out to his morning meal, a strange transformation had taken place. He was buoyant and cheerful; his face was radiant with a pleasing vivacity. Indeed he was absolutely mirthful. Martha regarded him with profound astonishment, which gave way to fear that the dear old man had lost his reason, when he burst out into the following speech:

"Rejoice, my friends! rejoice, my children! I have got it fixed. I see our way clearly out of all our troubles. Get ready, as quickly but as quietly as you can, to leave this horrible place. Be silent as the grave. A ship will be ready for us on Sunday afternoon; and while these mad people are yelling in their vile amphitheatre, she will weigh anchor, slip her cable, and with Mary on board and angels smiling on the voyage, her prow will point steadily for the land of Gaul."

During this speech he was rubbing his hands with glee; and at the conclusion of it he waved them over his head in an excited manner. His listeners showed by their silence and the tears in their eyes what they thought of this singular conduct.

"Come, come!" said the old man, resuming his usual gravity, "I am in earnest. G.o.d has revealed what I must do, in a dream. I know exactly where Mary is. She is well and will soon be happy. You must obey me. Ask me no questions. Trust in me implicitly. All will be right."

Seeing Beltrezzor so thoroughly in earnest, the little group became hopeful and cheerful, and proceeded with alacrity to make preparations for the sudden and strange journey. Beltrezzor went out into the city, and was incessantly occupied in arranging and working for his remarkable enterprise. He barely came home to sleep at night, so much had he to do in so little time.

He continued as vivacious as ever. His spirits, his hope, his a.s.surance, seemed to rise every hour. At last, the evening before the Sabbath, the little party with their baggage were quietly transferred after nightfall from the house of Salothel to a beautiful new ship anch.o.r.ed away up at the very end of the long pier which adorns the river front of Antioch.

When they were all safe on board the vessel, Beltrezzor took Martha into the cabin, and opening a closet, he showed her several boxes of rosewood bound with bra.s.s bands.

"This," he said, "is full of golden coins of various sizes and value. This contains jewels of incalculable splendor wrought by the greatest artificers in the East. This conceals precious stones of great beauty and high price. And this last contains some genuine diamonds, brought from the remotest India, and which would excite the envy of kings and queens.

"Here are the keys to them all. Take them."

"And all this immense wealth," said Martha in amazement.

"One half of it is for you and Mary."

"And the other half?"

"Is for the man who brings Mary to this vessel to-morrow and conducts it to Gaul."

"Oh, generous uncle; and for yourself?"

"Something far more valuable than all that."

My uncle returned to the house of Salothel to sleep, fearing lest its sudden evacuation should excite the suspicion of the neighbors. Several servants also, bribed to profound secrecy, were to remain until after the Sabbath. Beltrezzor was obliged to move with great caution. A single false step might ruin everything. If the parties who were plotting the destruction of Mary obtained the least clue to his movements, his whole scheme might be thwarted. Mary would be given to the lion, the rest seized and perhaps murdered, and his splendid estate confiscated. He could not sleep a moment under the weight of such tremendous responsibilities.

It was the next morning, the day of the Jewish Sabbath, when the grand exhibition was to take place at the amphitheatre, that I arrived at Antioch. Just as my uncle was leaving the house for ever, he met me at the door. I thought he would have started from me as from a ghost. But he was one of those quiet men whom nothing ever surprised. He gave me a sedate but cordial welcome, just as if he had been expecting me. He had difficulty in calming my excitement and fury when I learned what a shocking fate was impending over my youngest and most beautiful sister.

He would not tell me anything about the means he had adopted for Mary's deliverance. I was very restive under this burden of secrecy and mystery.

"Be quiet, my son," he said, "or you will mar all. You have come into the fight too late to understand the exact state of the parties and to take command. Be patient. Do the part I give you. Do it well, and trust to me for the rest. We must not be seen together, for you may be watched, and that might betray me. You must not go to the ship until the hour of starting, for you might be followed there, and that might ruin us both.

"Stay in the house until nearly four o'clock. At four o'clock precisely be at the north-east angle of the amphitheatre on the opposite side of the street. You will see a chariot standing there with the letter G in gilt upon its side. A servant will be holding a gray horse a few paces off. At four, precisely, two persons will come out of one of the rear doors of the amphitheatre. They will enter the chariot and drive away rapidly. Mount the horse and follow them. Ten minutes afterward you will be in the arms of your sisters!"

I was very much dissatisfied with this arrangement. I felt that the stake was too immense and sacred for the whole work to be left to the knowledge, the discretion and the energy of one man. But my uncle was resolute in keeping his plan for Mary's deliverance entirely to himself. He bade me adieu. There was a singular tenderness in his words:

"Good-bye, Lazarus. I need not conceal from you the fact that there is danger in this enterprise. You may never see me again. You will take care of your sisters in my place. Be honest, be faithful, be good. If my plan succeeds, this will be the greatest, happiest day of my life. Courage!

Adieu."