XIXTHE RENEGADE
"Stay, Benjamin!" cried Deborah, thrusting aside the curtains. She stood a moment at the opening, scarcely recognizing her brother in the heavy-lipped and maudlin face, the artificial curls, and the costume of a Greek exquisite.
Benjamin stared an instant in stupid curiosity, then took a step or two in fright.
"It is I! And Caleb!" cried Deborah, seizing his hands and putting them about herself, and pressing her face to his.
"God has been good to us, and brought us home, Benjamin," shouted Caleb, eager for his embrace.
"It is true. Yes, yes, it must be so," said Glaucon, at length coming to his senses, with a flash of his old affectionate nature, like a waning ember, lighting up his face with a suggestion of its former beauty.
He drew his sister and brother both to the couch, and sat between them, staring from one to the other.
"And you? You were not killed? What has happened? Where were you taken?"
A few words sufficed to tell him all that she cared to have him know—that she had fled for her life; had fallen among friends; had not dared to return to Jerusalem before this, fearing some repetition of the insults such as Apollonius had once offered her. But that now the Governor was gone, she had comeagain to be under the care of her natural and legal guardian, "and, God willing," she said, "that the house of Elkiah may again be graced by the presence of woman and child."
Glaucon's manner evidenced much restraint. He was not at ease in expressing even the kindliness and affection he felt, for he had felt so little of these emotions that he had no words in readiness to convey them. There was the difference between his brotherly welcome and that given by the old servants that there is between the shaduff, toilsomely lifting its bucket of water at a time, and a fountain pouring out its welcome to the upcoming flowers. Very soon the sentimental part of the interview was past, and Glaucon proceeded to the practical.
"If, my sister, you are to abide at home, since the King is extremely jealous of the loyalty of the old Jewish families, it would be well to adopt a name less clannish than your present one."
"Call me what you will, brother. I will know myself only by the name my mother gave me. I can, however, quickly interpret any other word into that."
Glaucon's mind was opaque to the fine sarcasm of his sister; he proceeded:
"Berenice is a beautiful name among the Greeks. You know the story of Queen Berenice? No? Then I will tell it to you as I have heard the Princess Helena tell it. I think the Princess has hair like Berenice's, soft and silky as glistening light. You must come to know the Princess."
"But the story of Berenice?" interjected Deborah, wearily.
"It is a fair story as she told it to me," replied he."Berenice was the wife of King Ptolemy of Egypt; he who was called Euergetes, which means Benefactor. Berenice was the loveliest of women. Her eyes gleamed with starlight, and her hair flowed about her shoulders like the mingling rays of the sun and moon.
"Once, when the King was warring in Syrian lands, his queen made a vow to the gods that, if they would return her lord safely to her arms, she would cut off her hair, and consecrate it in a temple in Cyprus. The gods were tempted by this gift, and gave Ptolemy wondrous victories and a speedy return. Berenice fulfilled her vow. But such was the beauty of her locks that they dazzled the eyes of the beholders who came into the temple. Whereupon the gods hung Berenice's hair in the sky, and there it is still. You may see it any night. It is gathered into seven nodes which seem to be stars. All of our Greek astrologers know of the constellation of Berenice's hair. The charming poet, Callimachus, made a hymn in praise of this new beauty of the heavens. I will sing it to you."
"No, no," said Deborah, "the story is fine enough as you have told it. Do not sing it. But my black threads do not suggest the starry brightness of Berenice's locks. The name would better fit some fair-haired woman. But call me what you will, my brother. And how shall we know the child? Caleb means 'God's dog.' What will that be in Greek?"
"The Greeks have that spirit in them that one would not be the dog of even Diana, the goddess of the chase. Theodorus is a pretty name, and means, 'gift of the gods.'"
"Let him be called, then, Theodorus," said Deborah, with an acquiescing smile.
"But Berenice must dress more gayly than Deborah did," added her brother. "This bodice looks like one that came out of Egypt with Miriam, and for aught I know this linen was made by one of Pharaoh's weavers, and was picked up on the shores of the Red Sea."
"Our mother wore these, and she was counted the most beautiful woman in Jewry," replied Deborah. "Besides, I have scores of changes made of stuffs such as are rarely seen in these days. As for jewels, caps of coin, ear-rings, necklaces, anklets and armlets, we have enough to deck out a score of maidens, and laces which the princesses of Egypt have worn, and robes of the most expensive Tyrian dye. The daughter of Elkiah need not fear to appear among the gentlewomen, come they from Antioch, or even the new capital of Rome."
"True enough as far as value goes," replied Glaucon. "But these are not in the fashion. When you see the Princess Helena you will envy her the new shapes of dresses and jewelry. She is fairer than you. The sun has tarnished your complexion, but she can teach you how to bleach it."
"I have no doubt," interjected Deborah.
"But," continued Glaucon, "when our Berenice is clad as well as the Princess she need not be ashamed before even that marvellous woman."
"Thanks, my brother."
"I would that Dion could see you in the costume I shall have sent you from Antioch."
"Does Dion live?" asked Deborah.
"Dion, I fear, is dead. A curse on those treacherous sons of Mattathias. Sons of Belial! But," he rattled on, "it will be well to make known to the people of the better sort in Jerusalem the return of the mistress of the house of Glaucon. I will see to it that the wife of Menelaos, the High Priest, and the wife of General Seron—who is to command the new army of the King—and the Princess make their welcome to you. Berenice, sister of Glaucon: why may she not some day be Queen of Jerusalem? Already, my sister, with the wealth our father left me, and much more that I have gained through my own shrewdness—for I am the best business head in the land—I am the richest man in the city; and with the revenues I can control in my office as tax assessor, I can soon buy what I will from the King."
"I fear, my dear Benjamin—my dear Glaucon," said the new Berenice, gently touching her brother's cheeks, "that the glitter of your riches has affected your head as the sun's rays sometimes do. As for the new garments, I shall be glad of anything that makes me fairer in your eyes; but I still bethink me that the apparel of Jewish women is more elegant than that of the Greeks. Indeed, the better costumes of Athens are borrowed from those of Syria. Of late years, since the death of our mother, and since the sorrows of the land crushed our father, the great oaken chests have been unopened. In them are garments laid away in cassia dust, for which the costumers of Antioch would give more shekels than they ask to array the chief of Antiochus' concubines. To-morrow, if it please you, let Berenice, as the mistress of the house of Glaucon, receive the ladies whom you desire."
"As you will have it," said he, kissing the hand of his sister in the latest manner of such etiquette imported from the capital. "Such spirit as yours, Deb—Berenice, is worthy of her who is to outshine them all."