XXVIIIA PRISONER
CaptainDion was not at the house of Helena the night of the entertainment. He was more seriously engaged with Meton, the Commandant at the citadel. The two men sat on opposite sides of a narrow oaken table. This was the only furniture of the stone-encased apartment, except the low stools the men occupied, some changes of armor that hung from the bronze pegs in the walls, a soldier's chest, and a tankard and goblets which stood between the Commandant and his guest. The men were in striking contrast. Meton was short, broad-shouldered, square-headed, crab-eyed, with complexion which might have been due to weather exposure or overmuch indulgence in wine—doubtless to both.
"I appreciate your feeling in regard to so fine a woman," said the Commandant, "and I have no doubt that she rewards your good offices with personal favors. No offence, my friend, no offence! for were I younger I should prize a woman's smile as highly as you do. But I tell you, Captain, she must be seized."
"With proper deference to your opinion," responded Dion, "I am not prepared to admit the force of your reasons for suspecting her. Indeed, I am quite sure that I can disprove what her enemies say of her. But, passing that, it were impolitic to lay hands on one so close to Glaucon and the High Priest."
"Glaucon! He has not a shred of influence in Jerusalem except as Menelaos allows him to pose under his shadow. And listen, Captain,"—lowering his voice and glancing furtively about the apartment—"Menelaos is through with Glaucon. The Jew has about wound up his tether, and is of no more use to the Priest than a date pit is to the pulp after it has ripened. It is the High Priest himself who has secured evidence against the woman. I do not praise his purpose; but Menelaos, the circumcised hypocrite, would be as false to us Greeks as he has been to his own race, if his greed led that way. Just now he is weighting his dice to get possession of the estate of Elkiah, which they say includes that of Ben Shattuck. If this Berenice, or Deborah, or whatever her name may be, can be proved to be in league with the Maccabæans, it will be sufficient for the King, which is another name for the High Priest, to confiscate the property; since he would not trust Glaucon, who harbors her in his house. It was different when she was thought to be dead."
"But what evidence has been secured?" asked Dion with simulated calmness, which one less stolid than his companion would have seen to cover deep excitement.
"Evidence? Evidence in abundance! Though I confess to you, Captain, I don't believe a word of it any more than you do. The woman is scarcely more than a child, and yet the Princess is ready to swear that she was once a Jewish spy whom she herself had seen about the camp of Apollonius before his blunder at the Wady. Faugh! It is incredible. If fawns were used as hounds to scent out leopards, then Glaucon's sister might be a spy."
"Is the Princess' word all we have for the accusation?"
"No. We have caught two men who were with Judas; they will swear for the sake of their lives—and men will swear anything for that—that the daughter of Elkiah was with the rebels just before the battle of Bethhoron."
"But I could swear that she was not, for I myself saw her in her brother's house the very night of the battle," cried Dion, bringing his fist down upon the table that separated them. "I will put my word against the two traitors; and which will you take, General Meton?"
"Quiet, Captain! quiet! or I will believe the report that her black eyes have bewitched you. Whose word will I take—yours or the Jews'? Why, theirs, of course, since we will not allow you to testify at all. Captain, you and I know that this is not an affair of justice, but only a thread in some web the High Priest and the Princess are spinning. But what of that? Neither of us is big enough to withstand Menelaos; and I, for one, will not attempt it. The woman must be seized."
"But does the law of our service permit an accused woman no defendant?"
"No defendant will be needed in this case. My orders are peremptory. They come from General Gorgias, that she shall be arrested, and held until his arrival in the city, when he himself will judge the case. But there is hope for her. She is marvellously beautiful, though her eyes have too much lightning in them for me. Gorgias is an artist in flesh; and as the judges did in Phryne's case, he will find as many witnesses of her innocence asshe has charms. But, Captain, I can serve your fancy. For your interest in the woman I will put her custody into your hands until Gorgias comes. You certainly will not object to that, or you have colder blood than I credit your years with. You may bring her to the citadel, or you may guard her in her own house, in your arms if you want to; but you know our laws—your life for hers if she escapes. First, however, her accusation must be published. On this the High Priest insists. Captain, do you accept her custody, or shall I send another?"
"Under such circumstances, of course I accept," replied Dion, rising.
"Well," said Meton, laughing, "then I command you, for I see you want to. Only don't fall in love with her overmuch, or I shall be jealous of my appointment and revoke it. One cup more with me, Captain; and speak a good word for me with the Princess; for when this pup of a Jew, Glaucon, is out of the way, I may myself forget that I am not young, and play the suitor."
Early the following morning a tall sarissa and broad-brimmed hat sentinelled the house of Glaucon. Another soldier was stationed just within the doorway, while half a score lounged about the court, under command of Captain Dion.
The news of Deborah's arrest produced excitement and some consternation throughout the city; for while Glaucon was hated, even as he was envied, for his ill-gotten successes, nearly all the renegade Jews in Jerusalem were conscious of serving the King from the same greedy motives, and feared for themselves now that the High Priest had turned against one of his own kind.
"Who next?" was everywhere asked in whispers.
Captain Dion had his headquarters in the familiar guest room of the house of Glaucon. He made known to Deborah the accusation against her.
"Deborah, I am here to protect as well as guard you," he protested. "You must escape. Let me go with you, and if necessary die for you. What is one soldier less to the armies of Antiochus? But a life poured out in love's dear sake, ah! that would be like a goblet of wine spilled upon an altar. Willingly would I thus serve you, and I believe it would be a sacrifice pleasing to your God."
Deborah was a long time silent. At length she said:
"Dion, will you do anything, everything, for me?"
"Anything, everything," exclaimed the eager man. "Speak the word, and I will go with you to the camp of the Jews, or I will flee with you to the tents beyond Jordan. Anything, everything," cried he, abandoning himself to the sway of his passion.
"There is nothing I can ask that you will not do? Are you sure? May I test you again?"
"There is nothing, nothing that I will not do for you. I swear it. Test me. I long to prove myself."
"Then, Dion, I command you to remain where you are. Do your duty as a Greek soldier. Guard me if you may. Lead me forth to execution if you must. Let General Gorgias have his will with me. I will not use your love to swerve you a hair's breadth from your sworn duty to the service you are engaged in."
"But, Deborah, how could I do this? You are falsely accused. Never was there a more damnablelie. I myself can swear that you were not with the Jews at the battle, for here I saw you."
Deborah turned away and paced the apartment; then quickly turned:
"Dion, you are my custodian. More than that, I make you my judge. You shall hear my confession. I am not falsely accused. I am a Jewish spy. I forbid that you swear to my innocence. Others may speak untruth, but I will confess the facts before the tribunal rather than your lips shall utter a word that is false."
Dion heard with amazement, not so much at her statement, for he had more than suspected its truth, but at this new revelation of Deborah's spirit. He exclaimed ardently:
"Then flee with me. Come! Come! This night we may be far away, among your own people, among the tribesmen beyond Moab; or we will go to Egypt, or to Greece, or to Rome. My life is yours, Deborah, whenever and for whatever you may need me. Come! We can make safe flight."
"No, Dion. Though I may not say I love you, I esteem you too much as my friend, as my father's friend, to let you sacrifice your good name for me. Be true to your duty here, until God Himself give deliverance to His people."
"There is no deliverance for your people, Deborah," cried the Greek in despair. "The King's armies are already gathering for another ascent from the plain of Sharon. Within three weeks they will sweep all this land as the tide of the Great Sea covers the sands when the north wind blows."
"Then, why will not you go with your men?" exclaimed Deborah, haughtily. "It is better to fighton the high field than to be left behind to guard a girl. Honor and fame are there—here nothing for a great soul; nothing for one who has been trained in the court of Philip and in the army of Perseus of Macedon."
Her attitude and voice were so dramatic that they might have turned even Glaucon into a hero.
Then her tones became taunting: "Has Dion, son of General Agathocles, no ambition? Are you like a new-born ant that has wings on its back, but suffers them to be torn off by its sisters? Oh, Dion, if I were a man, think you I would be content to play the cat at a mouse-hole, as you are doing here, when the hosts are marching? Go! Let Meton send his citadel cooks. They will be sufficient to watch me here. But not you, Dion! Give up your custody, I beg you."
Dion caught her martial spirit, and exclaimed:
"Ah, if you were a man, Deborah, I would love you as your ancient Prince Jonathan did the heroic David. Side by side we would fight even for the Jews' cause. I swear it! But," he dropped his voice, and, weighing every word with sincerity and decision, added, "Deborah, I shall remain here with you, unless you will go with me."
Deborah's manner instantly changed. Her soldierly enthusiasm became the transport of a prophetess.
"Dion, believe me, the host of Gorgias will never make the ascent to Jerusalem. I know it. The sword of our God is in the hand of Judas. The child Caleb sat yesterday looking toward the west, his eyes expanded more largely than ever. 'What do you see?' I asked; for in such moods I have found him to be gifted with a seer's sight.
"'I see,' said he, 'the armies of the Gentiles. They swarm like bees toward the towers of Jerusalem. Now they are at Emmaus. But the sword of the Lord and of Judas gleams through the air. It severs the flying host. See! see! The bees have lost their guidance. They scatter everywhere. They dissolve like smoke in the air!' I know not where the child gets such visions, but more oft than otherwise they come true."
Dion shook his head.
"Deborah, if your God shall again work miracles this dream may become true; but if Judas were in league with Egypt or Rome he could not stop the advance of Gorgias. Any one of the three Greek armies can destroy the Maccabæans, while the others sweep the land, as freely as the breezes blow, from Samaria to the South Desert. I thank God that neither you nor I shall be in the coming battle. Why, Deborah, should I fight? How can I care whether Antiochus widen his empire, and rob more lands to spend his revenues on new favorites, such as those about us here? But I could fight for a cause, for something I esteemed holy, as I do yours. I believe that you could touch me and transform me into—into a Jew. One thing I vow: If Judas escape the oncoming armies I will believe in Caleb's vision. I will offer your great champion my sword at the gate of Jerusalem, and confess that he is the long-promised Deliverer whom all people as well as yours believe will some day come to restore right boundaries and exalt good men. This I swear, and make your sweet lips witness. Let them call me traitor if I keep not this vow."
"Did then," replied Deborah, "our blind seer dreamagain correctly? He said that he saw Dion wearing a Jew's shirt beneath his Greek toga. But, Dion, do not follow such impulses. Your career is that of a soldier. In that occupation you may acquire renown, riches, power; for I myself once heard one of your generals say that there was more genius for command in Dion's head than in the whole war councils of the King. Only be as just as you are brave—such men are needed everywhere. But alas! too well I know that, unless God helps, one will find only poverty and suffering and death among the Jews. Our reward is not here, but in that unknown land where we believe our fathers who have fallen asleep wake and walk. Without that sure faith, Dion, you must not become a Jew. But we must part. Call me when the swordsman or jailer is ready—and I will forgive you."
She retired into her apartment.