Ben Hur (37 page)

"Enter—in God's name, enter, and take thy rest," said the host,
heartily, in the dialect of the Market-place of Jerusalem;
forthwith he led the way to the divan.

"I will sit here," he said next, pointing; "and there the stranger."

A woman—in the old time she would have been called a handmaid—answered,
and dexterously piled the pillows and bolsters as rests for the back;
after which they sat upon the side of the divan, while water was
brought fresh from the lake, and their feet bathed and dried with
napkins.

"We have a saying in the Desert," Ilderim began, gathering his beard,
and combing it with his slender fingers, "that a good appetite is the
promise of a long life. Hast thou such?"

"By that rule, good sheik, I will live a hundred years. I am a
hungry wolf at thy door," Ben-Hur replied.

"Well, thou shalt not be sent away like a wolf. I will give thee
the best of the flocks."

Ilderim clapped his hands.

"Seek the stranger in the guest-tent, and say I, Ilderim, send him
a prayer that his peace may be as incessant as the flowing of waters."

The man in waiting bowed.

"Say, also," Ilderim continued, "that I have returned with another
for breaking of bread; and, if Balthasar the wise careth to share
the loaf, three may partake of it, and the portion of the birds be
none the less."

The second servant went away.

"Let us take our rest now."

Thereupon Ilderim settled himself upon the divan, as at this day
merchants sit on their rugs in the bazaars of Damascus; and when
fairly at rest, he stopped combing his beard, and said, gravely,
"That thou art my guest, and hast drunk my leben, and art about
to taste my salt, ought not to forbid a question: Who art thou?"

"Sheik Ilderim," said Ben-Hur, calmly enduring his gaze, "I pray
thee not to think me trifling with thy just demand; but was there
never a time in thy life when to answer such a question would have
been a crime to thyself?"

"By the splendor of Solomon, yes!" Ilderim answered. "Betrayal of
self is at times as base as the betrayal of a tribe."

"Thanks, thanks, good sheik!" Ben-Hur exclaimed.

"Never answer became thee better. Now I know thou cost but seek
assurance to justify the trust I have come to ask, and that such
assurance is of more interest to thee than the affairs of my poor
life."

The sheik in his turn bowed, and Ben-Hur hastened to pursue his
advantage.

"So it please thee then," he said, "first, I am not a Roman, as the
name given thee as mine implieth."

Ilderim clasped the beard overflowing his breast, and gazed at the
speaker with eyes faintly twinkling through the shade of the heavy
close-drawn brows.

"In the next place," Ben-Hur continued, "I am an Israelite of the
tribe of Judah."

The sheik raised his brows a little.

"Nor that merely. Sheik, I am a Jew with a grievance against Rome
compared with which thine is not more than a child's trouble."

The old man combed his beard with nervous haste, and let fall his
brows until even the twinkle of the eyes went out.

"Still further: I swear to thee, Sheik Ilderim—I swear by the
covenant the Lord made with my fathers—so thou but give me the
revenge I seek, the money and the glory of the race shall be thine."

Ilderim's brows relaxed; his head arose; his face began to beam;
and it was almost possible to see the satisfaction taking possession
of him.

"Enough!" he said. "If at the roots of thy tongue there is a lie
in coil, Solomon himself had not been safe against thee. That thou
art not a Roman—that as a Jew thou hast a grievance against Rome,
and revenge to compass, I believe; and on that score enough. But as
to thy skill. What experience hast thou in racing with chariots?
And the horses—canst thou make them creatures of thy will?—to
know thee? to come at call? to go, if thou sayest it, to the last
extreme of breath and strength? and then, in the perishing moment,
out of the depths of thy life thrill them to one exertion the
mightiest of all? The gift, my son, is not to every one. Ah,
by the splendor of God! I knew a king who governed millions
of men, their perfect master, but could not win the respect of
a horse. Mark! I speak not of the dull brutes whose round it is
to slave for slaves—the debased in blood and image—the dead
in spirit; but of such as mine here—the kings of their kind;
of a lineage reaching back to the broods of the first Pharaoh;
my comrades and friends, dwellers in tents, whom long association
with me has brought up to my plane; who to their instincts have
added our wits and to their senses joined our souls, until they
feel all we know of ambition, love, hate, and contempt; in war,
heroes; in trust, faithful as women. Ho, there!"

A servant came forward.

"Let my Arabs come!"

The man drew aside part of the division curtain of the tent,
exposing to view a group of horses, who lingered a moment where
they were as if to make certain of the invitation.

"Come!" Ilderim said to them. "Why stand ye there? What have I
that is not yours? Come, I say!"

They stalked slowly in.

"Son of Israel," the master said, "thy Moses was a mighty man,
but—ha, ha ha!—I must laugh when I think of his allowing
thy fathers the plodding ox and the dull, slow-natured ass,
and forbidding them property in horses. Ha, ha, ha! Thinkest
thou he would have done so had he seen that one—and that—and
this?" At the word he laid his hand upon the face of the first
to reach him, and patted it with infinite pride and tenderness.

"It is a misjudgment, sheik, a misjudgment," Ben-Hur said, warmly.
"Moses was a warrior as well as a lawgiver beloved by God; and to
follow war—ah, what is it but to love all its creatures—these
among the rest?"

A head of exquisite turn—with large eyes, soft as a deer's, and half
hidden by the dense forelock, and small ears, sharp-pointed and sloped
well forward—approached then quite to his breast, the nostrils open,
and the upper lip in motion. "Who are you?" it asked, plainly as
ever man spoke. Ben-Hur recognized one of the four racers he had
seen on the course, and gave his open hand to the beautiful brute.

"They will tell you, the blasphemers!—may their days shorten as
they grow fewer!"—the sheik spoke with the feeling of a man
repelling a personal defamation—"they will tell you, I say,
that our horses of the best blood are derived from the Nesaean
pastures of Persia. God gave the first Arab a measureless waste
of sand, with some treeless mountains, and here and there a well
of bitter waters; and said to him, 'Behold thy country!' And when
the poor man complained, the Mighty One pitied him, and said again,
'Be of cheer! for I will twice bless thee above other men.' The Arab
heard, and gave thanks, and with faith set out to find the blessings.
He travelled all the boundaries first, and failed; then he made a path
into the desert, and went on and on—and in the heart of the waste
there was an island of green very beautiful to see; and in the heart
of the island, lo! a herd of camels, and another of horses! He took
them joyfully and kept them with care for what they were—best gifts
of God. And from that green isle went forth all the horses of the
earth; even to the pastures of Nesaea they went; and northward to
the dreadful vales perpetually threshed by blasts from the Sea
of Chill Winds. Doubt not the story; or if thou dost, may never
amulet have charm for an Arab again. Nay, I will give thee proof."

He clapped his hands.

"Bring me the records of the tribe," he said to the servant who
responded.

While waiting, the sheik played with the horses, patting their
cheeks, combing their forelocks with his fingers, giving each one
a token of remembrance. Presently six men appeared with chests of
cedar reinforced by bands of brass, and hinged and bolted with brass.

"Nay," said Ilderim, when they were all set down by the divan,
"I meant not all of them; only the records of the horses—that
one. Open it and take back the others."

The chest was opened, disclosing a mass of ivory tablets strung
on rings of silver wire; and as the tablets were scarcely thicker
than wafers, each ring held several hundreds of them.

"I know," said Ilderim, taking some of the rings in his hand—"I
know with what care and zeal, my son, the scribes of the Temple in
the Holy City keep the names of the newly born, that every son of
Israel may trace his line of ancestry to its beginning, though it
antedate the patriarchs. My fathers—may the recollection of them be
green forever!—did not think it sinful to borrow the idea, and apply
it to their dumb servants. See these tablets!"

Ben-Hur took the rings, and separating the tablets saw they bore
rude hieroglyphs in Arabic, burned on the smooth surface by a
sharp point of heated metal.

"Canst thou read them, O son of Israel?"

"No. Thou must tell me their meaning."

"Know thou, then, each tablet records the name of a foal of the
pure blood born to my fathers through the hundreds of years passed;
and also the names of sire and dam. Take them, and note their age,
that thou mayst the more readily believe."

Some of the tablets were nearly worn away. all were yellow with
age.

"In the chest there, I can tell thee now, I have the perfect history;
perfect because certified as history seldom is—showing of what stock
all these are sprung—this one, and that now supplicating thy notice
and caress; and as they come to us here, their sires, even the
furthest removed in time, came to my sires, under a tent-roof like
this of mine, to eat their measure of barley from the open hand,
and be talked to as children; and as children kiss the thanks they
have not speech to express. And now, O son of Israel, thou mayst
believe my declaration—if I am a lord of the Desert, behold my
ministers! Take them from me, and I become as a sick man left
by the caravan to die. Thanks to them, age hath not diminished
the terror of me on the highways between cities; and it will not
while I have strength to go with them. Ha, ha, ha! I could tell
thee marvels done by their ancestors. In a favoring time I may
do so; for the present, enough that they were never overtaken
in retreat; nor, by the sword of Solomon, did they ever fail in
pursuit! That, mark you, on the sands and under saddle; but now—I
do not know—I am afraid, for they are under yoke the first time,
and the conditions of success are so many. They have the pride and
the speed and the endurance. If I find them a master, they will win.
Son of Israel! so thou art the man, I swear it shall be a happy day
that brought thee thither. Of thyself now speak."

"I know now," said Ben-Hur, "why it is that in the love of an Arab
his horse is next to his children; and I know, also, why the Arab
horses are the best in the world; but, good sheik, I would not have
you judge me by words alone; for, as you know, all promises of men
sometimes fail. Give me the trial first on some plain hereabout,
and put the four in my hand to-morrow."

Ilderim's face beamed again, and he would have spoken.

"A moment, good sheik, a moment!" said Ben-Hur. "Let me say further.
From the masters in Rome I learned many lessons, little thinking they
would serve me in a time like this. I tell thee these thy sons of
the Desert, though they have separately the speed of eagles and
the endurance of lions, will fail if they are not trained to run
together under the yoke. For bethink thee, sheik, in every four
there is one the slowest and one the swiftest; and while the race
is always to the slowest, the trouble is always with the swiftest.
It was so to-day; the driver could not reduce the best to harmonious
action with the poorest. My trial may have no better result; but if
so, I will tell thee of it: that I swear. Wherefore, in the same
spirit I say, can I get them to run together, moved by my will,
the four as one, thou shalt have the sestertii and the crown,
and I my revenge. What sayest thou?"

Ilderim listened, combing his beard the while. At the end he said,
with a laugh, "I think better of thee, son of Israel. We have
a saying in the Desert, 'If you will cook the meal with words,
I will promise an ocean of butter.' thou shalt have the horses
in the morning."

At that moment there was a stir at the rear entrance to the tent.

"The supper—it is here! and yonder my friend Balthasar, whom thou
shalt know. He hath a story to tell which an Israelite should never
tire of hearing."

And to the servants he added,

"Take the records away, and return my jewels to their apartment."

And they did as he ordered.

If the reader will return now to the repast of the wise men at
their meeting in the desert, he will understand the preparations
for the supper in Ilderim's tent. The differences were chiefly such
as were incident to ampler means and better service.

Three rugs were spread on the carpet within the space so nearly
enclosed by the divan; a table not more than a foot in height was
brought and set within the same place, and covered with a cloth.
Off to one side a portable earthenware oven was established under
the presidency of a woman whose duty it was to keep the company in
bread, or, more precisely, in hot cakes of flour from the handmills
grinding with constant sound in a neighboring tent.

Meanwhile Balthasar was conducted to the divan, where Ilderim
and Ben-Hur received him standing. A loose black gown covered
his person; his step was feeble, and his whole movement slow
and cautious, apparently dependent upon a long staff and the
arm of a servant.

"Peace to you, my friend," said Ilderim, respectfully. "Peace and
welcome."

The Egyptian raised his head and replied, "And to thee, good sheik—to
thee and thine, peace and the blessing of the One God—God the true
and loving."