"My daughter." There was no answer, though the black eyes were wide open. Mary hesitated an instant, her sad lips moved in prayer. "Anat, my child," she said, softly. "Wilt thou not look once more upon his face before they bear him hence. I would that thou see for thy comfort that G.o.d hath set upon him the visible seal of his love, in that the peace that pa.s.seth understanding is writ thereon."

The girl rose feebly. "Take me to him," she said, putting out her hand.

And Mary led her into the peaceful chamber where they had laid him. The afternoon sun shot long rays of splendor across the face on the pillow, beautiful with the beauty of youth and of holiness, and touched with the sublimer beauty of death. The look that he had worn when he cried out at sight of Jesus waiting to receive him yet lingered there, his face was as the face of an angel who slept.

"For so he giveth his beloved sleep," murmured Mary, who stood at her side. At that word the maiden turned and the pent-up fountain of her tears broke forth. And the two wept together--but not as those without hope.

And so as the sad hours crept by, devout men carried forth the dead Stephen to his burial, making great lamentation over him. And the poor to whom he had daily ministered, and them that he had healed and comforted from all the city and the country round about followed him to the tomb; and the streets of the city were filled with the sound of the wailing and loud crying.

As for the men which had done this thing, they hid themselves; and some of them exulted because that an enemy was dead, and some were ashamed, while others still--amongst them Saul of Tarsus--listened to the sound of the wailing, and shook their fists.

"It is the beginning of lamentations for such as blaspheme the law,"

said these. "To-morrow they will forget this dead man in the mult.i.tude of their own distresses."

In the house of John, the family sat that evening on the house-top as was their wont, and they talked together of him that had gone; and while they mourned indeed they also rejoiced, for they knew that he had fought a good fight, and that while the earth-clouds hung dark and threatening above their heads, this beloved one had pa.s.sed through and beyond and was safe forever more.

John remembered the words of Jesus how on that last night he had said to them, "Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in G.o.d, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, and I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."

While he yet spake, another came suddenly into their midst, a ghastly, despairing figure, his garments hanging in rags about him, his face torn and bleeding. And as they looked in amazement and affright, the man spoke and his voice was hoa.r.s.e and weak, as of one who had wept many hours.

"I am a dying man," he said, "for I will expiate my guilt before to-morrow's sun rise upon the earth. But first I must confess before you what I have done, then if thou wilt slay me for it I shall rejoice, in that I shall be spared the further guilt of taking my own wretched life."

"Ben Obed!" cried Anat, with a sudden premonition of what he was about to confess.

"Yes, Ben Obed, apostate--false witness--false friend--murderer." And he poured out in rapid disjointed sentences the story of his part in that awful day's work. There was silence when he had finished, and the wretched man turned blindly as if to go away, but John laid a detaining hand upon his arm.

"Stay," he said, and there was the boundless love and forgiveness of Jesus in his voice. "Thou hast indeed sinned, and grievously, but he forgave thee at the last, even as did Christ when he prayed for them that slew him. And thinkest thou not that he would bid thee live--live to carry on the task which he has left unfinished?"

"I am unworthy," groaned Ben Obed.

"Which of us is worthy?" said Peter. "Behold, I denied the Lord himself with curses, yet he bade me care for the church, saying unto me, 'Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not. And when thou art converted strengthen thy brethren.' I wot that this word was not for me only, but for all them that have been tempted beyond that they can bear."

And when Ben Obed heard this, he fell on his knees weeping, and they all prayed with him that he might yet be restored and his sins forgiven.

When presently he rose up, his face was full of hope. "Behold," he cried, "the Lord hath forgiven me, for the burden hath been eased from off my soul. Yet must I go away from this place whither the spirit shall lead me." Then he turned to Anat. "Canst thou also forgive?" he asked, and his voice trembled.

The maiden was silent, but only for a moment. She rose in her place, and stretched out her hand toward the young man. "I forgive thee," she said slowly, "as I know he would have me forgive."

Ben Obed kissed the extended hand humbly, then he went away whither the Spirit led him, and no one of them saw his face more while they lived.

But in after years John heard of one who preached Christ among the slaves of Alexandria, suffering many things for Christ's sake, and at the last dying beneath the scourge. The name of this man was Ben Obed, so said the pilgrim who told the thing.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

A FLASK OF CRYSTAL.

"The beasts are gone, and there is an end of it; but I care not."

"Thou wouldst have told a different tale not many years since." And the speaker laughed. "Poof! I am cold," he continued, stooping to stir the fire. "We might as well have gone back before the sun set; there is no fuel here."

The other man shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and spread his lean fingers over the scanty fire. But he said nothing; after a time his companion spoke again in a slow, meditative way, as if to himself:

"My lord will say this: 'A poorer than I hath need of the beasts, therefore he hath taken them. Would that he had asked me, and I would have given him freely; nevertheless if he hath need, it is in itself sufficient to excuse the deed.'"

"Verily," broke in the other with a sneer, "and because of this senile madness the tribe waxes poorer day by day. Abu Ben Hesed is a fool! I, Ben Kish, say so. What inheritance will my sons have that is worth the having if these things continue?"

"Senile madness, dost thou call it? And what says Ben Abu, who succeeds as chief when the old man shall be gathered to his fathers?"

"I have no dealings with him," answered Ben Kish sullenly. "He harps continually on the same string. 'Do this because the Nazarene commanded it. Forbear the other because the Nazarene declared that it was wrong.'

What do I care for this dead Nazarene or his sayings? Moreover I do not believe the tales that they tell of him, nor do any believe in Judaea, save them that be poor and have nothing to lose thereby. I asked concerning the thing when I went up to Jerusalem of a great Rabbi, whom I saw in the temple. I had paid my vows and offered my sacrifice according to the law, and I heard the man speaking to the people concerning this new doctrine of the Nazarene. 'Blasphemous,' he called it; 'a cunning device of Satan to entrap the foolish of heart, and above all, contrary to the law of Moses.' Moreover, them that practise these unlawful sayings in Jerusalem are shortly to be dealt with."

"Said he so indeed?" exclaimed the other man, who was called Simeon.

"Then is it something more than senile madness that doth ail our worshipful lord; the devil himself hath a hand in it."

"Listen," said Ben Kish, leaning toward his companion, "I am minded to tell thee what he further said to me in private. Swear to me that thou wilt not reveal it?"

"By the temple!" cried Simeon readily.

Ben Kish looked behind him and on either side as if he feared that some one might be lurking near. The glimmering wastes of desert showed vast and empty, stretching away beneath the keen sparkle of countless stars; the night wind wandering in the hollow darkness cried aloud for loneliness; the crouching camels stared at the meagre fire and chewed their cuds in drowsy contentment. "I have a feeling that some one is near--and listening," he said, shivering a little, and throwing a fresh handful of fuel on the dying fire.

The other man laughed, but he also shivered. "There is always that feeling in the desert at night," he said. "It must be the stars, that look down like large eyes out of heaven; or the wind, that hath in it the sound of a woman wailing for her dead. But what hast thou to say to me?"

"Thou hast sworn?"

"I have sworn--and by the temple; what more wouldst thou?"

"I spoke with him concerning our chief," said Ben Kish, "of how he came up to Jerusalem and fell in with them that told him of the Nazarene, and how that since that time he doth continually exhort and preach to us concerning the man, calling him the Messiah, the Holy and Righteous One foretold by the prophets and by Moses.

"'Alas,' said the Rabbi, 'he hath been snared by evil counsels, and he will also lead away after him all that hear.'

"'He hath not so led me,' I said, 'for I believe not on a man who commands that if an enemy smite thee on one cheek, thou immediately turn to him the other that he may smite again; and if a thief take away thy camel let him have thy horse also; it is unjust!'

"'It is not only unjust; it is unlawful,' said this wise Rabbi. 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth is the law--a good law and wise.'"

"Yet must we submit to the chief of our tribe," said the man who listened, "that is also the law."

"Nay, friend," cried Ben Kish triumphantly, "listen still further. I said something of the like to the wise Rabbi, and he made me answer thus: 'The unbeliever and the blasphemer shall be cast forth and his inheritance shall be given to them which are faithful, for thus is it written in the law. If, therefore, there be them amongst you which are able, rise up and overcome this man who hath spoken thus blasphemously, and cast him forth that the inheritance be thine; so may the Lord ever prevail against false prophets and workers of iniquity.'"

"Holy Jerusalem!" exclaimed Simeon under his breath. "Smite Ben Hesed?

Cast Ben Hesed forth from his own tribe? The man wot not of whom he was speaking."

"One must use discretion with such an one," admitted Ben Kish. "I have already spoken of the matter with the father of my wife. He is a wise man, as thou knowest, and he hath moreover a bitterness against Ben Hesed because that he spake severely to him of his dealings with the two Egyptian brats, whom we found half dead in the desert some years ago.

The man was ready to believe the word of strangers rather than the word of his sister's son, which was unjust; Pagiel moreover hath not forgotten the matter--nor will he forget."

"If Ben Hesed be cast forth, who would then be chief?" said Simeon, drawing his beard thoughtfully through his hand and looking intently into the coals.