"I trust it will be so ere long," replied Judith. "I will apprise Amaziah of your apprehensions; and by proper precautions I hope we may yet escape all danger. Tell me what you had been saying, which you fear may have been overheard."
Naomi repeated the chief points of the conversation, only omitting that part which related to Marcellus; and Judith was greatly alarmed at finding that so much had been said, which, if repeated, would place them all in the power of their enemies. She did not, however, express all that she felt; and Salome's voice was heard calling Naomi to return to the cedar hall, as her father had just entered and inquired for her. She ran to meet him, and rejoiced to find that he and his friends had escaped unhurt from the combat. He informed them that the Zealots had been at length defeated, and driven back to their strongholds; but not until they had killed or wounded several of those who opposed their violence, and carried off a great quantity of plunder. The house of the lady of Bethezob was dismantled, and in such a state of confusion and havoc that it would be impossible for her to return that night; and he therefore invited her to remain under his roof until the wreck of her valuable household property could be arranged, and her own home prepared to receive her again. This was readily agreed to, and the rest of the fugitives having departed to their respective abodes, all was again restored to quietness. But what peace, what security could be felt in a city which was exposed to such scenes of outrage as that which had just been witnessed? Who could feel that their property or their lives were secure for an hour, while robbers and murderers could openly traverse the streets, and forcibly enter any house that offered temptation to plunder, unchecked by any legal power, and unchastised by any arm of justice?
It was an unprecedented state of society, and never may the world again behold its equal! It was civil war in its most dreadful form. The city held within its walls many conflicting parties, and each was animated by the most deadly feelings of hatred towards the others. Murder and rapine prevailed in every quarter, while religious zeal yet distinguished many individuals of each party. The blood of bulls and goats flowed in sacrifice from the altars that still remained uncleansed from the human gore that had been shed in the frequent combats within the temple. None moved through the streets unarmed or unattended; and a strong guard generally accompanied any female of distinction who was induced to venture far from home. And yet in the midst of all this crime and misery the wildest dissipation was carried on. It was not only in the house of Mary of Bethezob that feasts and revels were celebrated; the dwellings of numbers of the rich and gay sent forth the sounds of music and of mirth as loudly and as frequently as when Zion dwelt in peace, and none could harm them. Such thoughtless levity appears incomprehensible; but danger had become familiar to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and they seemed heedless of the scenes of bloodshed that daily met their eyes. Is it not the same infatuation that now blinds the eyes of our fellow-sinners around us, who walk on in a course of sin and folly, and mark not the warnings that are vouchsafed to them by the Lord, and dread not the destruction into which they see their companions falling day by day?—a destruction more appalling and more lasting than the death and the miseries inflicted by the Zealot robbers of Jerusalem.
It was midnight before Javan returned to his father's house. When the lawless band had been expelled from Mary's house, and driven to their own abode in the temple courts, he was slowly proceeding homewards, and meditating on the period when he could safely summon the son of Gioras to enter the city, and take the lead among so many contending parties. He hoped that the presence of Simon would put an end to the lesser factions, and he determined to use every exertion to prepare the way for his reception. He was engaged with these reflections when his friend Isaac approached him, accompanied by a stranger in the garb of a domestic. The streets were dark, but the man carried a lamp, which threw its light on a countenance well suited to take a part in the bloody and vindictive scenes that characterized the time, and had already hardened the hearts of the greatest part of the inhabitants of Jerusalem.
"Javan," said the counsellor, in a low voice, when they met, "this man has somewhat to relate which concerns you nearly. The leaven of apostasy has spread farther and deeper than you imagined; and vigorous measures must be adopted to extirpate it at once. From the lips of your own sister this faithful and zealous man has heard enough to prove that she herself, as well as Amaziah and his wife and son, and the Roman maid to whom he is betrothed, are enthusiastic disciples of the Nazarene."
"Ha!" cried Javan fiercely, "is it really so? But I had strongly suspected it. Naomi is altogether changed since my absence from the city; and doubtless it is this foul heresy with which she is infected that has damped her spirit, and made her what she is. But tell me, who is your informer, and how came he to hear my sister speak on such a subject?"
"His name is Reuben, and he is a domestic in the house of Mary of Bethezob. This very evening he was passing through the garden when he saw two maidens sitting in a retired spot, and evidently deeply engrossed with the subject of their discourse. Curiosity led him to approach, and unobserved by them he listened to their conversation. Reuben, repeat to the noble Javan all that you have already related to me."
The treacherous servant did as he was commanded; and Javan listened with deep interest to the detail of all that had passed between the unsuspicious friends. To hear that his uncle and Judith had adopted the Nazarene faith did not at all astonish him, for he had already ascertained their opinions, and those of Claudia. But Naomi's conversion had hitherto been only a matter of suspicion and fear; and every feeling of his breast was excited with painful intensity, as the dreadful fact became incontestably evident. His indignation was wound to its highest pitch when Reuben proceeded to repeat that part of the conversation which so plainly revealed his sister's attachment to Marcellus, and the hope that was cherished in her heart of one day being united to him. It was with difficulty that the fiery young Jew restrained the expression of his passion; but he chose not that Reuben should see how deeply he was moved: and when he had finished his recital, he merely threw to him his purse as a reward for his treason; and laying his hand on the dagger that was placed in his girdle, sternly commanded him, as he valued his life, to preserve all he had heard a secret from every other ear.
Reuben departed, well pleased with the prize that had been so easily earned, and resolved not to run the risk of incurring the vengeance of the dreaded Javan by revealing the service for which he had obtained it. Isaac and his friend did not separate so soon; they retired to the house of the counsellor, to consider how they should act upon the information they had just received, and how they should frustrate all the plans of their intended victims. The helpless Mary of Bethany was marked as the first to be secured; and the very evening on which Amaziah and his friend intended to place her in security was fixed on for the execution of the cruel design. Javan saw that there would be danger of exciting a tumult if she was taken prisoner on the following day, when Amaziah would have time to make inquiries after her, and interest his friends in her behalf. But the plan which he proposed to Isaac was, that they should obtain a strong body of men from the chief priests, and repair to Bethany before the hour at which his uncle intended to be there with his family; and when they had ascertained that the whole party were assembled together in Mary's house, that they should enter the dwelling, and seize on all the Nazarenes at one blow. When this was effected, he felt assured that no influence would be exerted in their favour sufficient to procure their liberty. Javan knew not that his father was already aware of his brother's heretical opinions; and he did not doubt that the discovery would at once sever all ties between them, and make Zadok as violent an enemy of Amaziah as he was himself.
All the arrangements were agreed upon by Javan and his companion, who fully approved of the iniquitous scheme, and promised to lend his aid for its execution; and they parted with an understanding that the council should meet on the following night, instead of the evening which had been appointed, and which was now to be otherwise occupied. Javan retired to rest that night with a feeling of great satisfaction at the prospect of so soon having the persons of his uncle and Theophilus in his power. It was against the latter that he proposed to direct his chief efforts, for if he succeeded in securing him, his chief object would be attained. He would then be enabled to gratify his own evil feelings of personal malice and fanatical cruelty, and also prevent the alliance of his cousin with a Gentile maid. The knowledge of his engagement to Claudia had greatly increased his hatred towards Theophilus; and in order to frustrate the intended connection, and save his family from the contamination of Roman blood, he felt that any act, however cruel, would be not only justifiable but meritorious.
Tomb of RachelTomb of Rachel
The lady of Bethezob dwelt in Zadok's house, and her domestics were busily employed the following day in removing the traces of the incursion of the Zealots. It was hopeless to seek any restitution of the valuable effects which had been carried off, or any punishment of the offenders; for who could enter their strongholds, and bear away any of their members before a tribunal of justice? Javan took advantage of the late occurrence to plead with great eloquence in the council that evening the necessity of inviting Simon and his powerful band to enter the city, and protect the inhabitants from the violence of John of Gischala and his ruffian crew. His arguments had great weight with his hearers; and some who had hitherto opposed his object, now began to fear that it was the only step which remained to them, by which they could hope to check the oppressions of their present masters. Isaac was a warm supporter of all Javan's proposals: he had always inclined to the admission of the son of Gioras; and he now ardently desired the adoption of any measure by which the insolence of the Zealots might be chastised, and vengeance obtained for the injury done to the lovely daughter of Eleazar.
The wealth of this lady, as well as her beauty, had engaged the attention of the counsellor. He was a constant visitor at her house; and finding that his society was welcome to Mary, he had determined to make proposals of marriage to her. The destruction and loss of so much of her valuable furniture and household effects, as he had witnessed the preceding evening, had exasperated him greatly, and excited a strong desire for revenge against the aggressors; but he knew that her possessions in land and money were so great as to render the injury easily reparable, and he made up his mind no longer to delay his proposals.
The council being almost unanimous on the subject of Simon, Javan next informed them of the discovery he had made of the adoption of the Nazarene religion by the members of his own hitherto unsullied family. The recital was listened to with great interest by the assembly, who were all exceedingly zealous for the honour of the law of Moses and the traditions of the elders,—but most lamentably negligent of God's eternal law of mercy and justice. They triumphed in the proof they had now obtained that Javan's suspicions had been correct; and more maliciously still did they exult in the near prospect of seizing on the objects of their hatred, and wreaking on them all that cruelty and bigotry could suggest. Javan did not wish that his uncle and his family should be put to death. He desired that by rigorous imprisonment and other sufferings they should be induced to retract their opinions; and he obtained a promise from his colleagues, that every effort should be used to bring them back to the true faith before any extreme measures should be resorted to. He also stipulated that his sister should not be captured. He had not yet stifled every feeling of affection for her; nor could he contemplate the idea of his mother's anguish, if Naomi was to be torn from her, without some sympathy. He trusted that when she saw the evils to which her relatives were exposed by their religion, she would be affrighted for her new opinions, and gladly return to the faith for which she had once been so zealous. He knew not the soul of his heroic sister, or the power of true Christian faith to make a weaker spirit than hers meet shame, and death, and agony unmoved!
The assembly broke up, after having appointed a body of guards to attend Javan to Bethany the following evening, and to obey his commands in all things; and the young Pharisee then turned his steps homewards, accompanied by Isaac. All in Zadok's house appeared cheerful and at peace, for Naomi had not communicated her own uneasy feelings and apprehensions even to her mother; and she exerted herself to appear in more than her usual spirits. Never did she sing more sweetly, or converse with more animation; and so gaily did she play with little David, and follow his sportive steps from place to place, that Javan began to imagine that he had been deceived by Reuben, or that the man himself had mistaken some other persons for his sister and Claudia. But yet the minuteness of the particulars which the informer had related, and the names of the individuals which he had repeated, forced him to believe his testimony, corroborated as it was by his own previous suspicions; and he concluded that Naomi was rejoicing in the prospect of her beloved relatives being so quickly removed beyond his reach, and in the hope that her own share in their guilt would remain unknown. She looked so lovely and so innocent, that he thought she could not yet have imbibed very deeply those opinions which he believed to be so impious and so productive of evil; and he longed to see her again restored to her duty, and taking a cheerful part in all those Jewish rites and ceremonies in which he had so often beheld her the admiration of all. Isaac too was much struck with her beauty, her accomplishments, and her amiable manners; and he privately encouraged Javan to adopt gentle measures with her, and if possible to conceal her errors from her parents, until he had himself endeavoured to correct them by argument and persuasion and even by threats.
Before the counsellor departed that evening, he took an opportunity of declaring his hopes and wishes to Mary; and she returned a favourable answer. She wished for rank and distinction; and though she had no particular attachment or esteem for Isaac, yet she considered that by uniting herself to him she should obtain the object of her ambition; and as the wife of so noble and powerful a man, she should meet with more consideration, and possess more influence than in her widowed and solitary state. She therefore consented that when her affairs could be settled, and her estates in Peræa disposed of, for the benefit of her son after her death, she would bestow her hand on Isaac; and the arrangement was made known to Zadok and his family as her nearest relatives. They had nothing to oppose to her choice, though her suitor was by no means a favourite with any of them, except Javan. He rejoiced greatly in the proposed connexion, as he thought that Isaac would thus be more firmly united to his own party, and by his increased wealth, be better enabled to assist his projects, and obtain fresh adherents.
The morning of the next day was passed in completing the various preparations for the final departure of Amaziah and his family, and the short absence of Zadok and Naomi. The priest had agreed to his brother's wish of hastening the journey, though he did not acknowledge the necessity for it, or believe that there was any cause for apprehension. He did not partake in his son's fanatical views, or consider that the cause of religion would be advanced by cruelty and persecution. It was well known that he was devoted to the Jewish faith, and that he firmly believed there was no salvation for any who departed from it: but it was also well known that his soul was full of mercy and compassion, and that he would not injure those whom he considered to be in a state of perdition already, and therefore Javan and his colleagues never confided their schemes against the Nazarenes to him. His violent anger at the discovery of his daughter's conversion to Christianity had subsided into a milder feeling of disappointed love and sorrow. He could not continue to treat with harshness the affectionate and dutiful child, who had always been the object of his pride and hopes, and who now sought by every means in her power to win back his love and merit his approbation. The one only subject on which she refused to listen to his authority, was her new religion; and on that subject she always replied to him with such gentleness and humility, and yet with such a holy zeal and firmness, that he was constrained to admire even while he sharply rebuked her. She had been restored to her accustomed place in the family on the return of Javan, and had gradually resumed much of her influence over her parents. In all customs and ceremonies that were indifferent she conformed to the practice of her family, but in the retirement of her own chamber she followed the manner of worship which she had learned so highly to prize, and perused with untiring attention some portions of the Gospels, which she had copied while at Pella from the precious manuscripts possessed by some of her Christian brethren residing there. No alteration was perceptible to those who frequented the house, except that Naomi was more amiable, more obliging, and more gentle in her temper and disposition than formerly. The contemplation of her lovely character, which so beautifully reflected the graces of the Christian model, tended greatly to soften the severity of Zadok's prejudices against the Nazarenes; and for her sake he would have been unwilling to join in any act of oppression towards those whom she loved as her kindred, and more especially those who were united to her by the ties both of near relationship and a common faith. He rejoiced that his brother was about to remove from Jerusalem, for he hoped that when Naomi was left alone, and entirely deprived of the society of Christians, she would probably be induced to relinquish her newly adopted opinions; and therefore he the more readily lent his aid to the hasty completion of the arrangements.
Mules and horse-litters were prepared, and a strong body of the domestic servants of both Zadok and Amaziah were furnished with arms, and appointed to act as guards to the party. A messenger was also dispatched to Joppa in search of Rufus, to request, if he were already there, that he would send the promised band of soldiers to meet them at Lydda on the day now fixed for their journey, instead of that more distant day which had been at first appointed. The baggage was all packed, and everything was ready; nothing remained but to bid farewell to Mary of Bethany, and consign her to the care of Benjamin.
Judith informed Zadok of their intention to visit their old and beloved friend on that evening, and earnestly requested that Naomi might be permitted to accompany them. She urged that it would be the last time that she should have it in her power to lead her niece to receive the blessing of that holy woman, which, whether she were a Jew or a Nazarene, could surely bring no evil on her head; and it would be a grief to Naomi if a friend whom she respected and loved so much were to die without her having seen her once more. The priest almost shuddered at the idea of his child receiving the benediction of one whom he knew to have been so devoted an attendant and disciple of Jesus of Nazareth; but he remembered that Naomi had already chosen her lot with his followers, and that one more interview with her former instructor could have no particular influence over her opinions. He therefore gave his consent, though unwillingly, and only on condition that Naomi should solemnly promise never again to make any attempt at seeing Mary after her return from Joppa.
Javan had absented himself from home nearly the whole day, to Naomi's great relief; and towards sunset she joined her uncle and his family, and all together proceeded by the well-known path up the Mount of Olives towards Bethany. As a proper precaution in case of Javan's having actually discovered their intention, Amaziah took with him several well-armed servants, and he and Theophilus were furnished with swords and daggers. They arrived at the dwelling of their friend, and entered as they were accustomed to do, without knocking, leaving the armed domestics to watch at the entrance. The first objects that met their view filled them with apprehensions that the venerable saint had already departed, and that their farewell visit was too late. Hannah was kneeling by the couch on which Mary was laid; and as the door opened, she turned, and held up her finger in token of silence. The tears were rolling down her cheeks, and sorrow was strongly depicted in her countenance. Judith and Naomi stepped lightly and quickly to the bedside, and Hannah drew aside the curtain that shaded the dying Christian from the light of a lamp that was suspended from the ceiling. Then they saw that life was not yet extinct, but was ebbing gently and swiftly away. Judith beckoned to her husband, and he with his son and Claudia advanced, with noiseless steps, and they all stood silently to gaze on that form which they perceived would ere long be seen no more on earth Mary's eyes were closed, and the pallid hue of death was on her cheek. So motionless, so calm she lay, that but for the deep and heavy breathing and a slight movement of her parted lips, it might have seemed that she was already dead. But her spirit was conscious still, and she was praying at that moment that she might yet be spared to see her expected and well-beloved friends, and bless them before her death; yet her bodily senses were deadened, and she did not perceive that her prayer was already granted.
Presently she opened her eyes, and was casting anxious look towards the door, when she beheld all those she so ardently desired to see, standing around her, and in a weak and faltering voice she exclaimed, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace! My children, my beloved children in the Lord, this is a blessing that I had scarcely hoped for. The day has seemed long to me, for I knew that it must close ere my dying eyes could look on you; and I feared this heart would cease to beat before the time appointed for your coming. But the Lord who has supported and blessed me all my days, has heard my last request. Come near, that I may bless you all." They gathered closely round her, and knelt in reverential silence, while she moved her trembling hands, and laid them in succession on their heads.
"Oh, my Redeemer," she said, "thou who didst suffer death in all its agonies, that thou mightest take away its sting from those who believe in thee, in the hearing of these thy servants I would testify thy power to vanquish the last enemy, and make the dark valley of the shadow of death light and glorious by thy presence. Leave me not, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation, and may the last words I utter bear witness to thy love. Bless with thy choicest blessings these thy children, whom thou hast called to the knowledge of thy name; and of thy great mercy keep them in the way of everlasting life. May their course in this world be happy, if it be for their eternal good. But if thou seest that trials and sorrows are needful for them, oh strengthen and support them, and make them more than conquerors over every temptation and every spiritual foe. And when, their mortal race is run, and the crown of immortality is on their brow, may we meet and rejoice together around thy throne, and sing thy praise for evermore, for thou hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, and to thy name be all the glory!"
"Amen," replied the kneeling disciples with one heart and one voice, while they bent their heads in deep devotion, and tears, which were not of sorrow, flowed from every eye.
At this moment a loud noise was heard near the entrance, as of armed men struggling to force open the door, and horrid imprecations were uttered against those who opposed them. Mary shuddered, and turned her dying eyes with intense anxiety to inquire the cause of this untimely violence, while Amaziah and Theophilus sprang on their feet, and drawing their swords prepared to resist the intrusion. It was a moment of awful suspense; but soon the door was burst open, and several men rushed in with swords and poniards, followed by the servants of Amaziah, who had vainly endeavoured to prevent their entrance. The spectacle that met their view was able to check the progress even of these ruffians—and they stood transfixed to the spot, looking with awe and admiration on the expiring saint, and the lovely girls who, with Judith and Hannah, still knelt by her side, and strove to overcome their own fears and support their sinking friend.
"Behold," said Amaziah, "the victim you come to seek: she is beyond the reach of human cruelty. Her spotless soul is winging its way to the presence of its God and Father, to bear testimony against those whose violence disturbed the last moments of its abode on earth."
"Say not so," murmured Mary faintly; "my dying voice shall plead for their pardon, in the words of Him who died for them, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!'"
A smile of pure benevolence and holy joy lighted up her countenance, and then faded away like the last rays of the setting sun on the cold surface of a wreath of snow. All was still—and friends and foes forgot for a moment all other feelings, in the contemplation of the awful change. Death looked beautiful on her placid features, which were as calm as those of a sleeping infant.
"She is not dead, but sleepeth," said Amaziah, in tone of deep solemnity. "May we die the death of the righteous, and may our last end be like hers!"
The evil intentions of the ruffian band had been checked, but not destroyed. The wonder and awe which had held them motionless had passed away; and again they grasped their weapons, and looked for orders towards their leaders. These were two powerful-looking men, in complete disguise, their faces being entirely concealed, and themselves clothed in an uncouth and foreign garb. They had not entered the apartment at the same time with their attendants, but remained at the entrance in conflict with some of Amaziah's servants, whom they succeeded in disarming, and then joined the rest of their band, as their intended victim uttered her last words of pious intercession.
One of these strangers turned away, and his manly form trembled for a moment with emotions that he sought to suppress; but the other called to his men in a stern voice to do their errand, and not be affrighted from their duty to God and man by the corpse of an accursed Nazarene. The impious appellation seemed to recall his comrade from his momentary weakness, and he rushed forward towards Theophilus with his sword uplifted, and already stained with blood from the conflict which had preceded his entrance. Claudia saw the fierce advance, and knew that it could be no other than Javan, who thus singled out her beloved Theophilus as the object of his rage. She forgot all other feelings in terror for the safety of him she loved, and springing forward, she placed herself before him, and cried:
"Javan, if blood be your object, shed mine: I am a Roman maid, allied to your bitterest enemies. But seek not to take the life of your countryman, your relative, and the ornament of your house."
The stranger was startled, but he spoke not. He wished not to confirm the suspicions of Claudia, by letting her hear his voice, but seizing her arm, he flung her aside; and as Theophilus caught her and prevented her from falling to the ground, he aimed a blow at his shoulder, and inflicted a wound that entirely disabled him. The blood flowed over the dress of Claudia, and all her sudden courage forsook her. She fainted away, and Theophilus was forced to relinquish her to the care of Naomi, and endeavour feebly to defend himself from the assaults of Javan. Meanwhile the chamber of death had become the scene of a furious conflict. The servants of Amaziah fought valiantly against a superior force, to defend their master and his family; while their foes endeavoured to secure them captives, and not to take their lives. Amaziah and Theophilus loudly called on the women to escape from the house by the back entrance, while they kept the assailants at bay; but Claudia's helpless condition, and anxiety for the fate of their defenders, kept them in the room. They stood by the bed of the lifeless Mary, on which they had laid Claudia also, now apparently as inanimate as their departed friend, and utterly unconscious of all that was going-on around her. Perhaps it was well for her that she was so, though she only awaked to a sense of utter misery.
The attacks of Javan and his comrade were evidently directed principally towards Theophilus; and at length while his father and the servants were occupied with the rest of the band, they succeeded in securing him, exhausted as he was with exertion and loss of blood. They hastily bound him with a strong rope, and endeavoured to drag him from the house by the back entrance, near which they had seized and overpowered him; but Naomi saw their intent, and loudly calling to her uncle for aid she flew to her cousin, and rendered desperate by excitement and alarm, she employed her strength so well as to impede the design of Javan, and enable Amaziah to come to the rescue Judith and Hannah stood in the way, and sought to close and bolt the door; but what could the efforts of weak and terrified women avail against the power and resolution of a band of armed and cruel men? Several of Amaziah's servants were bounded, and those who were not disabled could no longer maintain the unequal contest. They saw that their master was in danger of being made a prisoner as well as Theophilus, and they exerted all their courage and strength for his preservation and that of his son. The struggle was violent and well maintained; but alas! the faithful domestics only succeeded in disengaging Amaziah from the grasp of the ruffians, and Theophilus was borne away. His father would have followed the retreating steps of the ruffians, but his servants forcibly detained him, as they were convinced that such an attempt would only lead to his own capture; and in grief and horror the afflicted family stood by the corpse of Mary and the senseless form of Claudia, to consider what steps should be taken for the safety of the unhappy Theophilus.
To hasten back to the city, and employ all their influence with Zadok and his powerful friends, was the first impulse; but what could they do with Claudia, in her present helpless state, or how should they inform her of the calamity which had befallen them all? While they prepared some rude contrivance to carry her with them, she revived, and her first words were to inquire for Theophilus.
"He is gone to the city, my daughter," replied Judith; "and there I hope we shall soon see him safe and free."
"But he was wounded," said Claudia, confusedly: "I felt the warm blood flow on my cheek. Why is he gone away? he would not have left me senseless. But I remember now—oh, the dreadful truth comes over my brain! Javan has forced him away, and Javan will destroy him. I always knew that he would bring desolation into my heart; and it is done!"
A flood of tears somewhat relieved her bursting grief, and then she wildly sprang up, and cried,
"But why do we tarry here? Come, Naomi, we will fly to the city, and with my dear adopted parents, we will kneel and weep at Javan's feet until we melt even his heart of stone. Farewell, dear sainted Mary! It is well that your eyes were closed in death before this blow fell on those you loved so much—and oh! if my eyes are not again to behold Theophilus, I would that they had never opened from the trance that spared me the sight of his defeat!"
Thus passionately did the unhappy girl give vent to her feelings; and to her disposition it was a relief to do so. Meanwhile Amaziah gave some hasty directions to Hannah concerning the burial of the deceased, and promised to send some of his domestics, who were of the same holy religion, to assist her in performing it as secretly as possible at break of day, and if possible to attend himself. He feared that the priests might hear of her death, and send to seize on her corpse, that they might bury it according to their own ceremonies; and therefore he desired two of the servants who had attended him that evening to remain with Hannah, and prepare a humble grave for her beloved mistress, in the large and well-planted garden belonging to the house. He further desired Hannah to linger no longer in that dwelling, after the last duties had been paid to Mary, but to accompany his servants to Jerusalem, and take up her abode with him and his family, until his son could be liberated, when she should travel with them to Ephesus, and find a refuge and a home wherever they should dwell.
The afflicted family then left the house, and by the light of the torches with which they were provided, they bent their way towards the city. They were startled on entering the public road to perceive a band of men, also carrying lighted torches, approaching towards them, and for a moment they supposed that it was Javan returning to make a fresh attack; but the voice of their friend Benjamin speedily reassured them, and they hastened to communicate to him the death of Mary, and the subsequent calamitous event. It was now no longer necessary for the kind-hearted Benjamin to proceed to Mary's house, and he therefore insisted on joining his body of attendants to that of Amaziah, and conducting him and his family safe to their home; and in the litter which had been destined to carry the departed Christian, he placed Claudia, whose weakness made her almost incapable of proceeding on foot. Naomi and Judith walked beside her, and sought by every argument they could find to calm her agitation, and persuade her that there was every reason to hope for the speedy relief of Theophilus. Perhaps they appeared more sanguine than they really felt; but they could hardly believe that if it had actually been Javan who had thus deprived his cousin of liberty, he would refuse to listen to the entreaties of his family, or to be moved by the sorrow which he had brought upon them. It seemed too cruel even for Javan, to deliver his kinsman into the hands of those who would count his murder a meritorious act; and therefore they tried to believe that he only intended to detain them all in Jerusalem, until he had further ascertained their conversion to Christianity, and endeavoured to shake their faith by his arguments, and perhaps his threats.
They entered the city without difficulty, by means of the private gate, and were passing up the dark and narrow lane which led to the offices of Zadok's house, when they saw a wild and haggard form approaching at a rapid pace under the shadow of the wall. It was the son of Ananus—that mysterious being who had not ceased to traverse the devoted city day and night ever since its peace and prosperity began to fail. His ghastly countenance and sad and hollow voice could not be mistaken. He advanced close to the litter on which the terrified Claudia was carried, and uttered loudly his oft-repeated burden of woe.
"A voice from the east! a voice from the west! a voice from the four winds! a voice against Jerusalem and against the temple!"—Then pointing his skeleton finger towards Claudia, he uttered in a still more dismal tone, "A voice against the bridegrooms and the brides—a voice against the whole people!"
Swiftly he passed on, and was out of sight; while the same boding cry was heard repeated in the distance. But not so swiftly did the feelings of terror which he had excited in the breast of Claudia subside. Her mind had always been inclined to superstition; and though she strove to banish the impression that was made by the denunciation of the wild prophet, yet it sounded continually in her ears as the knell of all her earthly hopes.
The sad party reached their home, and immediately proceeded to the apartment generally occupied by Zadok and his family; and there, to their utter astonishment, they found Javan, in the usual loose robe in which he pursued his studies, deeply occupied in transcribing some portions of the sacred Talmud. Zadok and Salome, and their guest, the beautiful Mary of Bethezob, were also engaged in their ordinary employments; and all appeared equally startled and surprised at the entrance of their relatives in a manner so unexpected, and with countenances expressive of so much grief and anxiety.
Javan was the first to inquire, in a tone of perfect unconsciousness, into the cause of their distress; and so well did he feign ignorance and sympathy, that they began to doubt whether it was indeed he whom they had so lately seen under such different circumstances, and wearing so different an aspect. Naomi and Claudia fixed their eyes searchingly upon his countenance, while Amaziah related to his brother the particulars of all that had occurred to them, but they could read nothing in Javan's features to confirm their suspicions of his guilt. He betrayed no emotion, but affected sorrow and surprise; and so readily offered his assistance in discovering the authors of the deed, that his parents never thought of ascribing it to him, though the rest of his relatives were still doubtful and suspicious.
Having acted his hypocritical part with perfect coolness, Javan left the house on the pretence of making instant inquiries concerning the fate of Theophilus; and with a promise to return as soon as he had obtained any intelligence. He was no sooner gone than Claudia—who had hitherto with difficulty restrained herself from charging him with his duplicity and cruelty—declared to Zadok and Salome her firm conviction that their son was the cause of the sorrow which had come upon them; and not only that the barbarous scheme had originated with him, but that he had been present in disguise to put it in execution.
"He had a companion who also concealed his face, and wore the garb of a stranger," she added, "but his voice seemed to be one that I had often heard."
The daughter of Eleazar was present, and for her sake Claudia forbore to say that she believed Isaac to be the accomplice of Javan; but she had no doubt on the subject, and she was right in her conjecture.
Both Zadok and Salome strongly opposed the idea that Javan could be guilty of an act of such cruelty towards a near kinsman; but when they heard the various reasons which existed for suspecting him, and were informed of the listener who had been observed in Mary's garden, they began to entertain the same opinion, and promised to exert all their influence and authority to induce him to repair the injury he had done, and restore his family to happiness again. The lady of Bethezob listened with interest and astonishment to the conversation of her friends, for until that moment she had not known that she had been associating with Nazarenes. It is true she had seen very little of Amaziah and his family: but with Naomi she had lived on terms of intimacy, and for her she entertained a great affection. The idea of any longer concealing from Javan that his sister had embraced Christianity was laid aside, for all were equally convinced that he already knew it; and therefore Mary's presence was no check to the freedom of the discourse, and her inquiries were satisfied by a plain statement of the fact, and an injunction that she would observe a perfect secrecy on the subject towards all but the inmates of the house. She was a kind-hearted woman when her natural feelings were not biassed by passion or prejudice, and her sympathy was warmly excited both towards Naomi and Claudia. She wondered at their religious infatuation, for in her mind that all-important subject was a matter of taste and feeling, and not of deep principle and absorbing interest; yet she grieved for their afflictions, and those of the bereaved parents, and would gladly have lent her aid to remove them. All that wealth could do she cheerfully offered; but Claudia hoped more from her influence with Isaac, when it should appear that he was concerned in the unhappy business, than from the power of her riches. Indeed from this hope she derived her greatest and almost her only comfort; for when she saw how kindly Mary espoused her cause, and how eagerly she proffered her assistance, she began to feel that all was not yet lost, and that through her means the liberty of Theophilus might possibly be obtained.
It was late when Javan re-entered the house, and he attributed his long absence to the difficulty he had found in tracing the lost Theophilus.
"At length," he added, "I have been successful; but I regret to say that he has not fallen into the hands of the Zealots or the Idumeans, who might be induced to restore him on the payment of a large ransom; but he has been seized by the arm of justice. His criminal apostasy has been discovered to some of our most holy and zealous priests; and their righteous indignation has led them to take this step as a salutary warning to others who may be inclined to the same heresy, and as a wise precaution to prevent his disseminating the errors which have perverted his mind. I grieve for his fate, but it was only what I dreaded would be the result of his folly."
"Javan," cried Claudia, "it is you who have betrayed him! None but you and Rabbi Joazer were acquainted with his opinions; and the Rabbi had sworn to Zadok that he would never reveal them. You have brought all this evil on your house, and now you seek to hide your cruelty under the mask of sorrow."
"Silence, Claudia!" replied Javan indignantly; "and remember that though I cast back your passionate accusations with contempt, yet I have power and influence which it would be your wiser course to conciliate by submission, and not thus by your unfounded taunts to provoke me to use them against the object of your affection. But I act from higher motives than personal love or hatred; and I shall pursue the course which I see to be for the real good of my cousin, and the honour of my family, without any regard to the ravings of a heathen girl."
Claudia shrunk away from the look of fierce determination with which Javan accompanied this rebuke. She feared that by her unguarded exclamations she had only exasperated him still more against both Theophilus and herself; and she resolved in future to restrain her feelings, and if possible to conceal from him her horror and dread of his character, and the personal dislike which she had always felt for him. She could not reply to him, for her heart was too full; but Naomi approached him, and in a gentle voice endeavoured to move him to better feelings.
"My brother," she said, "do not speak thus harshly to Claudia. She is overwhelmed with grief, and knows not what she utters; and you should pity rather than blame her. You say that you have power and influence over those who have carried off our unfortunate cousin. Will you not exert them in his favour? He is your near kinsman—he never injured you. He formed the happiness of his parents, and of my poor Claudia too; and his character was never sullied by an act that could reflect shame on his family. What though he now differs from you in his religious opinions? That is a matter between him and his God, whom he serves in sincerity; and before whom he must stand or fall. O Javan, join not with those who seek his life; but restore him—for I know you can—to those whose life is bound up in his life, and let not the grey hairs of your father's brother be brought down to the grave in sorrow."
As Naomi finished speaking, she laid her hand on her brother's arm, and looked into his countenance with a look of moving entreaty; her mother, with Judith, Claudia, and Mary, had gathered round her, and with eloquent gestures joined their supplications to hers. But Javan turned on her a look of scorn, and shaking off her gentle hand, he exclaimed,
"Well may you plead for the life and liberty of an apostate!—for the same blasphemous creed that has marked him for eternal shame has branded you also! I know it all, Naomi. Your guilt, your hypocrisy, are all revealed. And here, in the presence of your parents, I denounce you as a Nazarene. Nay, cling not to me, and look not so imploringly,"—and Javan turned away his face that he might not meet his sister's sweet and tearful eyes,—"I am not going to give you up to the arm of justice. Cruel as I know you think me, I will not give your body to be mangled by the executioner. For our parents' sake I spare you this; and because I believe the power of the Lord God will yet be sent to cast forth the evil spirit that now possesses you, and make you again what once you were. But till that time arrives I renounce you as a sister; and I leave it to your father, to the just, the righteous Zadok, to take such steps as may speedily wipe away this stain, and remove the pollution from our house!"
Javan looked with astonishment at Zadok and Salome. He expected to have seen surprise and horror depicted in their countenances at the disclosure which he had just made; but sorrow mingled with pity was the only emotion they betrayed.
Naomi was about to reply to her brother, but Zadok interrupted her.
"Javan," he said, in a tone of calm authority, "the error into which your sister has unhappily fallen, has long been known both to your mother and me. It has been the source of profound grief to us; and many have been the prayers which we have offered up before the throne of the Almighty that he would vouchsafe to restore her to the true faith. Hitherto, alas! no answer has been given, and her soul is still in darkness. Why should we have told our sorrow and our shame to you, my son! We knew your zeal for the Lord, and we knew the anguish it would give you to find that Naomi, your only sister, had been beguiled from the way of holiness and truth to follow this new and most accursed heresy. Therefore we have concealed it from you and from the world; and, Javan, as your father, I now command you to follow the same course. Use all your efforts, all your prayers to bring her back; but breathe not her disgrace in any human ear. I would not have her despised; and, oh! for worlds I would not have her fall into the power of my zealous, but hard-hearted brethren. She is my child, my most beloved daughter; and though my heart condemns her, yet there she shall find a refuge, even though all the powers of earth and hell were combined together to tear her from me!"
Zadok adored his daughter; and this burst of parental feeling was excited by the sudden fear and horror to which Javan's words had given rise. The thought of his lovely Naomi being consigned to death and ignominy, as an apostate and blasphemer, had roused up all the tenderness which he had partially concealed, but could not banish, ever since the discovery of her lamented change of religion. She turned in grateful astonishment at this unexpected expression of his love, and falling at his feet, she would have kissed the hem of his garment; but he raised her up and embraced her with all his former affection, while he uttered a benediction which had not gladdened her heart since the time when first she had offended him, and rebelled against his authority.
Even Javan was moved, and Amaziah seized the moment to appeal to him.
"Behold, Javan," he said, "what is the love that a father has for his child! Our son is as dear to us as your sweet sister is to her parents. Judge then what must be our feelings while we know that Theophilus is in the power of his enemies—of those who would rejoice to shed his blood, and think that by so doing they should offer up a sacrifice acceptable to the God of mercy. Your power is great—your talents are respected by those on whom I believe his fate depends. Listen then to the entreaties of your family, and show that you are indeed zealous for the honour of God, by imitating Him who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness."
"Amaziah," replied Javan, "I am not insensible to the feelings of nature and humanity. I delight not in seeing the affliction of others; and if I could terminate your anxiety, and procure the liberation of Theophilus without compromising my well-known and declared opinions, and countenancing a heresy which my soul abhors, I would gladly do so. But the pure faith which has descended to me unsullied from our father Abraham is dearer to me than any considerations of a personal nature. Your son is an apostate. He has cast off the God of his fathers, and gives to a creature, a mere man, the honour which belongs to Jehovah alone. Therefore is he cut off from his family and his nation—nay more, he is wiped away from the book of life, and consigned to perdition. And shall I—a son of Aaron—lend my aid to rescue him from the punishment which he so well has earned? Shall I be the means of setting him at liberty, to disseminate his accursed doctrines, and carry the same spiritual pestilence into other families that he has brought into his own? No! by the altar of God I swear that so long as he cleaves to his idolatry, so long may he pine in a dungeon; or, if his judges see fit, he may be torn limb from limb, and given to be meat for the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field. But let him renounce his errors, and seek the pardon of his offended God by confession and sacrifice, and I will procure his release. Amaziah, look to your own safety. You have narrowly escaped sharing the same fate as your son; and I warn you to abjure your heresy, or to flee at once from the city. Judith and Claudia are known and marked as Nazarenes; and Naomi too is suspected. I have power to shelter her at present; but even that may fail, and my sister may be seized on and offered as a sacrifice to appease the wrath of insulted Heaven! O God of Jacob! what woes have been brought on thy peculiar people by the impostures of the crucified carpenter's son."
Javan left the room, and retired with hasty steps to the terrace, where he remained a great part of the night, pacing to and fro, and revolving many anxious thoughts. All his better feelings had been excited by the scene which he had just witnessed, and it was only by recalling to his mind the sentiments of severe fanaticism that generally reigned there, that he had been enabled to banish the rising emotions of tenderness and compassion. But now he had checked what he considered a weakness. Bigotry and mistaken zeal resumed possession of his soul, and all his thoughts were directed to the paramount object of bringing back his cousin to Judaism, or making him a fearful example of vengeance, as a warning to Naomi, to Amaziah, and to all who were in like manner perverted.
He left his family in sorrow and dismay. Those who adored Jesus of Nazareth as their Saviour, and worshipped him as God, were filled with horror and indignation at hearing his holy name blasphemed; and all were overpowered with the conviction that no hope remained of the liberation of Theophilus. Zadok endeavoured to speak comfort to his afflicted relatives, by urging them to use their influence in persuading his nephew to renounce Christianity; but Amaziah bade him cease such dreadful suggestions, and declared, while tears of deep emotion flowed down his manly cheeks; that he would rather behold his son—his only and beloved son—given up to the worst tortures that the spirit of persecution had ever yet devised, than hear him by one word deny the Lord who bought him with his own blood.
No one ventured to raise their voice in opposition to this declaration of the afflicted but undaunted father, and with heavy hearts the family dispersed to seek such repose as their sorrows would permit.
The sun rose bright and cheerful on the morrow—that day so ardently desired by Claudia, as the day of her departure from Jerusalem, and the termination of all her fears and anxieties. But it proved a day of trouble and sorrow, and brought with it no comfort, no hope.
Soon after the morning broke, poor Hannah arrived from Bethany, with the servants who had assisted her in depositing the remains of the departed Mary in the hasty grave which they had prepared for her. Amaziah had also performed his promise of being present, if possible, on the occasion; and notwithstanding the grief which oppressed him, and the danger to which he exposed himself by attending the burial of a Christian, he had in the darkness of night returned to Bethany, and pronounced a funeral benediction over his revered and beloved friend. Then he hastened back to the city, and was followed shortly afterwards by the weeping Hannah and his own domestics, who carried with them all the little property which had been bequeathed to her by her mistress. One treasure the faithful servant bore herself, and that was the roll of parchment that contained the writings of St. Matthew. Mary had desired her to give it to Naomi, with her dying love and blessing, when she believed that she was sinking, and should not live to see her face on that sad night which had left such traces of sorrow on the hearts of all those who came to bid her farewell. Naomi received the gift with grateful joy, and carefully concealed it from every eye. It was a possession which she had long and earnestly coveted, and she thanked her Heavenly Father for thus mercifully providing her with the rich consolation of the inspired Gospel history, at the very time when she expected so soon to be deprived of all human support and human instruction. For the present all the plans for the departure of Amaziah and his family were laid aside. No fears for their own safety could induce them to leave the city while Theophilus remained a captive; but everything was held in readiness for the journey, at any moment when they could obtain his freedom.
The day was passed in various and ineffectual efforts to interest the chief priests and other leading men in his behalf. Even Zadok, the zealous and devoted priest, so distinguished for his own strict observance of the law, was seen a suppliant for the pardon of the Nazarene youth; but no concession was obtained, further than a promise that he should be examined concerning his faith; and that no steps should be taken against him until he was proved to be guilty. And even then, if he would acknowledge his error, and publicly renounce it, he should, in consideration of his uncle's virtues, and the respect which was entertained for him, be liberated, and suffered to leave the country. Mary was not unmindful of her promise to exert her influence with Isaac, and had his heart been less hard and his prejudices less violent, her tears and entreaties must have prevailed. He was president of the self-elected council, on whose decree hung the life or death of all who were seized on suspicion of heresy, and consequently his judgment would greatly affect the result of the trial. But he was a bloodthirsty and impenetrable man, with whom power and riches and political ascendancy were the only objects of life. It was to forward these views, and obtain these objects, that he had stooped to seek the favour of the rich and beautiful Mary; and it was the fear of losing them that alone made him listen to her arguments with patience, and affect to reply to them with candour and gentleness. He deceived her into the belief that he would be Theophilus's friend, and with sincere joy she reported her imagined success to Claudia, whose spirits rose with greater elasticity than those of Naomi. Her judgment was less correct than that of her friend, and her spirit more volatile; and while Naomi rejoiced to see her cherishing these hopes, she herself did not dare to entertain them.
The day of trial arrived; and Zadok, in virtue of his priestly office, obtained admission to the council-chamber. It would not have been prudent, even had it been possible, for Amaziah to be present; and he remained with his anxious and almost despairing wife, and the kind and sympathising Salome. Claudia's agitation during these hours of agonizing suspense amounted almost to distraction. She wandered about the house and garden in restless impatience, followed always by her gentle and strong-minded friend, who soothed her irritation, checked her unfounded and sudden hopes, and again supported and cheered her when sinking to despair.
At length the voice of Zadok was heard in the vestibule; and all hastened to meet him, and read in his countenance the destruction or the confirmation of all their hopes. Claudia sprang towards him, and sank at his knees, in such an imploring attitude as if she were pleading to him for the life of her beloved Theophilus.
"Speak, Zadok!" she cried, "tell me if——"
She could not finish the sentence. She could not ask whether he who was so dear to her was condemned to death. Zadok looked on her with pity, and replied:—
"Do not abandon yourself to despair, dear Claudia. Theophilus, indeed, is not acquitted; we could not anticipate that. But no sentence of condemnation is yet pronounced, and time is given him. His sentiments may change, or we may yet work on his judges to release him, and banish him from the country. Believe me, all that I can do in his favour shall be done."
The latter part of the sentence was lost on Claudia. She saw that the fate of Theophilus was sealed, for it depended on his adherence to his religion, which she knew that nothing would ever shake. The dreadful conviction rushed upon her mind that she should never again behold him, and her senses forsook her. Sympathy for her misery diverted the attention of her sorrowing friends; but they all felt a sickening dread of what must follow, and envied the unconsciousness of Claudia. But she soon returned to a sense of the blow which had stunned her, and none could speak comfort to her breaking heart. The parents of Theophilus supported their affliction with more calmness; but it was not less deeply felt. They had learned to look on sorrow as a necessary ingredient in the cup of life, and they could meekly bow to the dispensation of their Heavenly Father, knowing that every event was in his hand, and that their enemies could do nothing but what was overruled and ordained by Him. But sorrow was not forbidden them, and deeply they grieved for the apprehended loss of their amiable and well-beloved son. Javan was present at the council, but he had not on this occasion taken his seat as one of the members. He wished to appear impartial, and forbore to take any part in the trial of his relative; but Isaac knew his sentiments, and there was no fear that either he or any of the counsellors would be too lenient. The prisoner was brought forth to answer to the charge made against him, and accused of heresy and idolatry. He replied with firmness and eloquence, and admirably did he set forth and maintain the blessed doctrines of Christianity. He completely denied all the evil tendency with which those doctrines were charged, and indignantly repelled the foul accusation of idolatry; but openly professed himself a disciple of the despised Jesus, and exulted in the name of Nazarene. His judges were astonished at his boldness, but it only made them more resolved to destroy one who could so powerfully plead the cause of the religion which they hated.
All were unanimous in their opinion that Theophilus was worthy of death, and had it not been for the urgent and powerful entreaties of Zadok, the fatal sentence would have been pronounced upon him immediately. But his uncle's intercessions obtained for him a reprieve of one week, during which time he promised to use all his efforts to induce him to renounce Christianity. Should he be successful, the full acquittal of the prisoner was pledged; but if Theophilus proved obdurate, even Zadok's influence must fail to procure any mercy for him. Isaac affected to plead for him, that a longer delay might be granted, but it was with so little warmth, that it was evident his words were contrary to his wishes, and the undaunted prisoner saw that his fate was sealed. He was remanded to the dungeon from whence he had been brought; but ere he retired Zadok approached him, and embraced him with the greatest affection. He whispered to him words of hope, which sank unheeded on the ear of Theophilus, for he knew that hope was gone in this world, and all he sought was heavenly strength to support him to the last.
"The Lord be merciful to you, my son," said Zadok, "and give you understanding and power to employ the short period of trial which is granted you, in repenting of your errors and returning to the truth. I will visit you daily, and I will supply you with all the holy writings which are calculated to remove the unhappy errors into which, through the wiles of Satan, you have fallen. Now I must hasten home, and tell your anxious friends that yet there is hope, and that it rests with yourself to pronounce the word that shall restore you to them and to liberty."
"Nay, dear uncle," replied Theophilus, "do not seek to deceive my parents. Tell them not to fear that their son will act the part of a hypocrite——"
"Cease, Theophilus," interrupted Zadok, "you will be overheard by those who will misinterpret your words. Farewell. I will say to Claudia that she may yet be happy. For her sake consider, and be wise."
Theophilus shook his head mournfully. The name of Claudia had pierced his heart, but it had not shaken his resolution; and he steadily followed his guards, who now came to conduct him to his cell. Javan did not accompany his father home. He dreaded to meet the reproaches of Claudia and his relatives, and he therefore allowed Zadok to carry to them the tidings of what had occurred. He knew that the part which he had taken in his cousin's apprehension was more than suspected by his family, though he had not acknowledged it, and therefore he felt himself to be the object of their just indignation. He also wished to avoid beholding the sorrow which he had brought on them, lest it should shake his purpose; and he thought himself bound in conscience to show no mercy to a Nazarene, unless he would abjure his creed. He would have rejoiced if Theophilus could thus have been brought to a public recantation; but he did not hope it, for there was something in his cousin's character, and in his demeanour during the trial, that told him he would defy death rather than renounce his opinions. Zadok was far more sanguine. He hoped everything from his own efforts to convince his nephew of his folly, especially when every feeling of the prisoner's heart would plead so powerfully in support of his arguments; and therefore he persisted in speaking cheerfully to his afflicted family, and vainly trying to inspire them with hopes which none but himself entertained.
Mary had eagerly inquired what part Isaac had taken during the trial, and whether he had performed his promise of befriending Theophilus. She was ill satisfied with the replies of Zadok; and when the president visited her on the following day, she reproached him sharply for not having acted more decidedly. Isaac was irritated, but he dared not show his anger, for he knew the quick and ungovernable feelings of Mary, and while so much which was important to him hung on her favour, he thought it wiser to conciliate her by fresh assurances and unmeaning professions.
The lady of Bethezob had taken up the cause of Theophilus, and she was resolved not to abandon it. She told Isaac that she knew it would be in his power to procure his liberation, and that if he did not give her that proof of his affection, she would break off her engagement altogether, and never see him more. Her will had always been a law to those around her, and she would never unite herself to a man who refused to comply with so reasonable, so humane a request. The counsellor was greatly alarmed at this declaration, which threatened the demolition of all his covetous projects, and the disappointment of all his schemes, which were founded on the hope of possessing Mary's wealth. He therefore began seriously to consider whether it would not be his more prudent plan to sacrifice the desire of adding another victim to those who were so soon to seal their faith with their blood; and by obtaining the pardon of Theophilus, to secure to himself the hand and the rich heritage of the widow of Bethezob. His selfish cupidity came in the stead of more generous feelings to make him act the part of a friend towards Theophilus, and he left Mary with a solemn oath that he would not rest until he had accomplished all that she desired.
Isaac hastened from the presence of his betrothed to seek Javan, and immediately informed him of the warm interest which Mary took in the fate of the prisoner, and her positive assertion that the union which he so greatly desired, should depend on the result of his efforts to release him. The counsellor had not doubted that his friend would sympathise in his feelings, and gladly join in any measures that would bring the wealth of Eleazar's daughter into the power of one of his own partisans, and thus forward his grand object of bringing Simon to take the command of the city. But Isaac judged of Javan by himself, and therefore he was mistaken. Javan was a zealous Pharisee and a furious bigot; but in all his conduct, however blamable, he was actuated by what he called religious principle. Self-interest had little weight with him; and though he would have shed the blood of thousands to promote the imaginary honour of God or the glory of his beloved country, he would have scorned to act contrary to the dictates of his conscience to further the personal views either of himself or his friends, and therefore he would not for a moment listen to the suggestions of Isaac. If his own feelings of dislike towards Theophilus had incited him to greater eagerness in seeking his apprehension, he was hardly aware of it himself; and he believed that he was guided by holy zeal for the cause of religion, and the preservation of his family from shame and dishonour. And now that his cousin was a captive, and shut up from the power of disseminating his creed, and also from the possibility of contracting an alliance with a heathen, was it to be expected that he would seek to liberate him, merely to promote the aggrandizement of an individual friend? He spurned the idea, and assured Isaac that nothing but Theophilus's recantation of all his errors would induce him to plead for his pardon; and therefore if such merciful projects now filled his breast, the only way to accomplish them would be to persuade the heretic to return to the true faith, which he feared would never be effected.
This was almost a deathblow to Isaac's hopes, but all his reiterated arguments were unable to shake the stern resolve of Javan; and he proceeded to try whether he could exert more influence over others of the council, and thus bring a majority to adopt his views. With a very few he prevailed, by promised bribes, so far as to obtain a promise that they would not consent to the death of Theophilus; but the rest were too much in Javan's interest, and also too much exasperated against the Nazarenes, to feel any inclination to forego their cruel purpose out of regard to Isaac.
The days passed rapidly away, and the period appointed for the decision of the fate of Theophilus was almost expired. The morrow would be the eventful day; and all the inmates of Zadok's house were absorbed in anxiety and grief. Zadok had visited his nephew constantly, and spent hours in long and patient argument with him, but all in vain. Each evening he returned harassed and distressed; and again each day he set forth with renewed hopes of success in his work of mercy. Amaziah would have persuaded him to forbear his visits, for he knew that his faithful and beloved son would regret that his remaining days should thus be interrupted, and his own pious meditations thus broken in upon. He did not fear that Theophilus would be influenced in the least degree by all that Zadok might urge upon him, for he knew that his faith was strong, and was founded on the Rock of Ages; and therefore all his hopes for the life of his son had expired from the moment that he heard the conditions which had been proposed to him. Yet he still wept and prayed before the Lord, with his afflicted wife and family; for he said, "Who can tell whether the Lord will be gracious to me, that my son may live?" It was from God, and not from man, that he ventured to look for aid; and it was only in accordance with his will that he wished to obtain it. Better far, he knew it would be, that his only son should "depart and be with the Lord," than that by sinfully denying him, he should obtain a prolongation of his earthly life, and lose the life eternal. Judith had grace and strength vouchsafed her to join in all her pious and high-minded husband's feelings; but Claudia, the poor heart-broken Claudia, was tossed to and fro by contending and most afflicting emotions. Sorely was she tempted and tried; and her faith almost gave way. Could it be true religion, she thought, which thus brought its professors into such straits and sorrows? Could it be true religion that demanded the sacrifice of one so good, so valuable as Theophilus, and led him to choose shame and death, and to leave those whose happiness was bound up in him to hopeless misery and desolation? Why should he not speak the word, and return to bless her with his presence? The Father Almighty had been the author of Judaism, and why should Theophilus die an ignominious death, rather than return to the religion in which he had been brought up? Weak and inefficient as these reasonings were, they had power to agitate the mind of Claudia, enfeebled by sorrow and anxiety. Her better feelings told her that such thoughts were both sinful and irrational; and yet she could not entirely conquer them, or still the repinings of her bursting heart. To Naomi she dared not breathe such doubts, for she felt how they would be condemned by her stronger-minded and more devoted friend; but to Salome she expressed her feelings, and even ventured to propose that she should herself address a letter to Theophilus, and send it by the hand of Zadok when he paid him his last visit that evening. She knew the power which she possessed over his affections, and she deceived herself into believing that she was right in employing it for the preservation of his life.
Salome gladly heard her express this wish, and hastened to communicate it to her husband, who warmly approved the plan, and urged Claudia to omit no persuasions which might possibly work on the feelings of Theophilus, and induce him to abandon his present determination to brave the worst that the council could threaten, rather than deny his belief in the Nazarene. With renewed hopes but with a trembling hand, the mistaken girl sat down to address her unhappy Theophilus. Carried away by her own feelings, she suffered herself to become an instrument in the hand of Satan, to tempt the being whom she loved so devotedly to sacrifice his immortal soul for the sake of dwelling a few short years with her on earth! How does the father of lies ofttimes transform himself into an angel of light, and beguile the hearts and understandings of those who do not resist his first whispers, to believe that they are doing God's work, when all the while they are seconding the efforts of his arch-enemy!
Claudia was long in composing her letter. What words could she find sufficiently eloquent to plead with Theophilus for his own life? At length it was finished; and many were the tears which fell on the parchment, and blotted out the words as soon as they were inscribed; but these tears would speak to the heart of him whom she addressed more powerfully than anything she could write: and the epistle was rolled up and carefully secured with a silken cord and a seal. She breathed a prayer for its success as she delivered it into the hand of Zadok: but at that moment the voice of conscience spoke loudly to her heart, and she felt a pang of doubt and fear whether she had acted the part of a servant of God, and whether the object of all her affections would not despise her for her weakness. She trembled with nervous indecision, and whilst she paused and hesitated whether to recall the important letter, Zadok passed quickly from the house, and it was too late. Did she not experience a momentary joy that it was no longer in her power to prevent the manuscript from reaching the hand and eye of Theophilus? She did; but her satisfaction was succeeded quickly by such agonising feelings of remorse and dread that she could hardly support them. Salome could now be no comfort to her, for she could not sympathise in the self-reproach which so suddenly overpowered her, as the conviction pressed upon her mind that she had been a traitor to the "Lord who bought her," and had endeavoured to draw Theophilus into the same dreadful crime. Mary of Bethezob ridiculed her fears, and would have repeated all the arguments by which poor Claudia had persuaded herself to commit the deed which she now so deeply repented: but she would not listen to her—her eyes were opened to a sense of her sin and weakness, and she saw the fallacy of all her reasonings, and the selfishness which had led her to prefer her own happiness to the salvation of her beloved Theophilus. She would listen no longer to the voice of the tempter, but hurried away to search for Naomi, and unburden her oppressed heart to that judicious and most faithful friend. She found her with Judith engaged in humble and fervent prayer for the object of their anxiety; and oh! how was her spirit pierced, and what shame and sorrow did she feel, as she entered the chamber, and heard the concluding words of supplication uttered by Naomi, in a tone of the deepest feeling and most perfect resignation!—".....And oh! most gracious Lord, while, in submission to thy will, we humbly implore thee to look upon our sorrow and turn it into joy, we would yet more earnestly desire that thou wouldst be with the soul of our beloved and afflicted brother, to strengthen him against the temptations that may sorely beset him in this hour of trial. May no fear of death, no thoughts of early affections intrude to weaken his holy resolution, or shake his faith in thee, Lord Jesus. Thou hast called him to thyself. Oh! uphold him with thy right hand, that his footsteps slide not; and whether in life or in death, may he glorify thee, and confess thy name; that so, if thou seest fit to take him from us here, it may be our blessed privilege to meet him again before thy throne, as one who has confessed thee before men, and whom thou wilt confess before thy Father in heaven."
"Amen, amen," responded Judith fervently, while tears coursed down her wan and woe-worn cheeks, and sobs burst from her troubled breast. "Let my son be safe in thy everlasting arms for eternity—and teach this rebellious heart to resign him cheerfully to thee, from whom the blessing came!"
Pale and motionless Claudia remained, until Naomi and Judith rose from their knees. She could not bow down with them, and join in a prayer that breathed a spirit so contrary to the action into which she had just been betrayed. She would have given worlds to recall the fatal letter. She now felt convinced that its only result would be to lower her in the opinion of Theophilus, and perhaps to destroy his affection for her. She ceased to imagine that her arguments and persuasions would shake the resolution that was founded on so pure a faith, and strengthened by the prayers of those who were ready to sacrifice so much from love to the Saviour, and regard to the honour of his name.