Ben Hur (46 page)

"Let him look to it, let him look to it! Ha, Antares—Aldebaran!
Shall he not, O honest Rigel? and thou, Atair, king among coursers,
shall he not beware of us? Ha, ha! good hearts!"

So in rests he passed from horse to horse, speaking, not as a
master, but the senior of as many brethren.

After nightfall, Ben-Hur sat by the door of the tent waiting for
Ilderim, not yet returned from the city. He was not impatient,
or vexed, or doubtful. The sheik would be heard from, at least.
Indeed, whether it was from satisfaction with the performance of
the four, or the refreshment there is in cold water succeeding
bodily exercise, or supper partaken with royal appetite, or the
reaction which, as a kindly provision of nature, always follows
depression, the young man was in good-humor verging upon elation.
He felt himself in the hands of Providence no longer his enemy. At
last there was a sound of horse's feet coming rapidly, and Malluch
rode up.

"Son of Arrius," he said, cheerily, after salutation, "I salute
you for Sheik Ilderim, who requests you to mount and go to the
city. He is waiting for you."

Ben-Hur asked no questions, but went in where the horses were
feeding. Aldebaran came to him, as if offering his service.
He played with him lovingly, but passed on, and chose another,
not of the four—they were sacred to the race. Very shortly the
two were on the road, going swiftly and in silence.

Some distance below the Seleucian Bridge, they crossed the river
by a ferry, and, riding far round on the right bank, and recrossing
by another ferry, entered the city from the west. The detour was
long, but Ben-Hur accepted it as a precaution for which there was
good reason.

Down to Simonides' landing they rode, and in front of the great
warehouse, under the bridge, Malluch drew rein.

"We are come," he said. "Dismount."

Ben-Hur recognized the place.

"Where is the sheik?" he asked.

"Come with me. I will show you."

A watchman took the horses, and almost before he realized it Ben-Hur
stood once more at the door of the house up on the greater one,
listening to the response from within—"In God's name, enter."

Malluch stopped at the door; Ben-Hur entered alone.

The room was the same in which he had formerly interviewed
Simonides, and it had been in nowise changed, except now,
close by the arm-chair, a polished brazen rod, set on a broad
wooden pedestal, arose higher than a tall man, holding lamps of
silver on sliding arms, half-a-dozen or more in number, and all
burning. The light was clear, bringing into view the panelling on
the walls, the cornice with its row of gilded balls, and the dome
dully tinted with violet mica.

Within a few steps, Ben-Hur stopped.

Three persons were present, looking at him—Simonides, Ilderim,
and Esther.

He glanced hurriedly from one to another, as if to find answer to
the question half formed in his mind, What business can these have
with me? He became calm, with every sense on the alert, for the
question was succeeded by another, Are they friends or enemies?

At length, his eyes rested upon Esther.

The men returned his look kindly; in her face there was something
more than kindness—something too
spirituel
for definition,
which yet went to his inner consciousness without definition.

Shall it be said, good reader? Back of his gaze there was a
comparison in which the Egyptian arose and set herself over
against the gentle Jewess; but it lived an instant, and, as is
the habit of such comparisons, passed away without a conclusion.

"Son of Hur—"

The guest turned to the speaker.

"Son of Hur," said Simonides, repeating the address slowly, and
with distinct emphasis, as if to impress all its meaning upon him
most interested in understanding it, "take thou the peace of the
Lord God of our fathers—take it from me." He paused, then added,
"From me and mine."

The speaker sat in his chair; there were the royal head, the bloodless
face, the masterful air, under the influence of which visitors forgot
the broken limbs and distorted body of the man. The full black eyes
gazed out under the white brows steadily, but not sternly. A moment
thus, then he crossed his hands upon his breast.

The action, taken with the salutation, could not be misunderstood,
and was not.

"Simonides," Ben-Hur answered, much moved, "the holy peace you
tender is accepted. As son to father, I return it to you. Only let
there be perfect understanding between us."

Thus delicately he sought to put aside the submission of the
merchant, and, in place of the relation of master and servant,
substitute one higher and holier.

Simonides let fall his hands, and, turning to Esther, said, "A seat
for the master, daughter."

She hastened, and brought a stool, and stood, with suffused
face, looking from one to the other—from Ben-Hur to Simonides,
from Simonides to Ben-Hur; and they waited, each declining the
superiority direction would imply. When at length the pause began
to be embarrassing, Ben-Hur advanced, and gently took the stool
from her, and, going to the chair, placed it at the merchant's
feet.

"I will sit here," he said.

His eyes met hers—an instant only; but both were better of the
look. He recognized her gratitude, she his generosity and forbearance.

Simonides bowed his acknowledgment.

"Esther, child, bring me the paper," he said, with a breath of
relief.

She went to a panel in the wall, opened it, took out a roll of
papyri, and brought and gave it to him.

"Thou saidst well, son of Hur," Simonides began, while unrolling
the sheets. "Let us understand each other. In anticipation of the
demand—which I would have made hadst thou waived it—I have here
a statement covering everything necessary to the understanding
required. I could see but two points involved—the property first,
and then our relation. The statement is explicit as to both. Will it
please thee to read it now?"

Ben-Hur received the papers, but glanced at Ilderim.

"Nay," said Simonides, "the sheik shall not deter thee from
reading. The account—such thou wilt find it—is of a nature
requiring a witness. In the attesting place at the end thou wilt
find, when thou comest to it, the name—Ilderim, Sheik. He knows
all. He is thy friend. All he has been to me, that will he be to
thee also."

Simonides looked at the Arab, nodding pleasantly, and the latter
gravely returned the nod, saying, "Thou hast said."

Ben-Hur replied, "I know already the excellence of his friendship,
and have yet to prove myself worthy of it." Immediately he continued,
"Later, O Simonides, I will read the papers carefully; for the present,
do thou take them, and if thou be not too weary, give me their substance."

Simonides took back the roll.

"Here, Esther, stand by me and receive the sheets, lest they fall
into confusion."

She took place by his chair, letting her right arm fall lightly
across his shoulder, so, when he spoke, the account seemed to
have rendition from both of them jointly.

"This," said Simonides, drawing out the first leaf, "shows the
money I had of thy father's, being the amount saved from the
Romans; there was no property saved, only money, and that the
robbers would have secured but for our Jewish custom of bills
of exchange. The amount saved, being sums I drew from Rome,
Alexandria, Damascus, Carthage, Valentia, and elsewhere within
the circle of trade, was one hundred and twenty talents Jewish
money."

He gave the sheet to Esther, and took the next one.

"With that amount—one hundred and twenty talents—I charged
myself. Hear now my credits. I use the word, as thou wilt see,
with reference rather to the proceeds gained from the use of
the money."

From separate sheets he then read footings, which, fractions omitted,
were as follows:

"CR.

By ships ... 60 talents.
By goods in store ... 110 talents.
By cargoes in transit ... 75 talents.
By camels, horses, etc. ... 20 talents.
By warehouses ... 10 talents.
By bills due ... 54 talents.
By money on hand and subject to draft ... 224 talents.
Total ... 553 talents."

"To these now, to the five hundred and fifty-three talents gained,
add the original capital I had from thy father, and thou hast SIX
HUNDRED AND SEVENTY THREE TALENTS!—and all thine—making thee,
O son of Hur, the richest subject in the world."

He took the papyri from Esther, and, reserving one, rolled them
and offered them to Ben-Hur. The pride perceptible in his manner
was not offensive; it might have been from a sense of duty well
done; it might have been for Ben-Hur without reference to himself.

"And there is nothing," he added, dropping his voice, but not his
eyes—"there is nothing now thou mayst not do."

The moment was one of absorbing interest to all present. Simonides
crossed his hands upon his breast again; Esther was anxious;
Ilderim nervous. A man is never so on trial as in the moment
of excessive good-fortune.

Taking the roll, Ben-Hur arose, struggling with emotion.

"All this is to me as a light from heaven, sent to drive away a
night which has been so long I feared it would never end, and so
dark I had lost the hope of seeing," he said, with a husky voice.
"I give first thanks to the Lord, who has not abandoned me,
and my next to thee, O Simonides. Thy faithfulness outweighs
the cruelty of others, and redeems our human nature. 'There is
nothing I cannot do:' be it so. Shall any man in this my hour
of such mighty privilege be more generous than I? Serve me as a
witness now, Sheik Ilderim. Hear thou my words as I shall speak
them—hear and remember. And thou, Esther, good angel of this
good man! hear thou also."

He stretched his hand with the roll to Simonides.

"The things these papers take into account—all of them: ships,
houses, goods, camels, horses, money; the least as well as the
greatest—give I back to thee, O Simonides, making them all thine,
and sealing them to thee and thine forever."

Esther smiled through her tears; Ilderim pulled his beard with
rapid motion, his eyes glistening like beads of jet. Simonides alone
was calm.

"Sealing them to thee and thine forever," Ben-Hur continued,
with better control of himself, "with one exception, and upon
one condition."

The breath of the listeners waited upon his words.

"The hundred and twenty talents which were my father's thou shalt
return to me."

Ilderim's countenance brightened.

"And thou shalt join me in search of my mother and sister, holding all
thine subject to the expense of discovery, even as I will hold mine."

Simonides was much affected. Stretching out his hand, he said,
"I see thy spirit, son of Hur, and I am grateful to the Lord that
he hath sent thee to me such as thou art. If I served well thy father
in life, and his memory afterwards, be not afraid of default to thee;
yet must I say the exception cannot stand."

Exhibiting, then, the reserved sheet, he continued,

"Thou hast not all the account. Take this and read—read aloud."

Ben-Hur took the supplement, and read it.

"Statement of the servants of Hur, rendered by Simonides, steward of
the estate.
1. Amrah, Egyptian, keeping the palace in Jerusalem.
2. Simonides, the steward, in Antioch.
3. Esther, daughter of Simonides."

Now, in all his thoughts of Simonides, not once had it entered
Ben-Hur's mind that, by the law, a daughter followed the parent's
condition. In all his visions of her, the sweet-faced Esther had
figured as the rival of the Egyptian, and an object of possible
love. He shrank from the revelation so suddenly brought him,
and looked at her blushing; and, blushing, she dropped her eyes
before him. Then he said, while the papyrus rolled itself together,

"A man with six hundred talents is indeed rich, and may do what
he pleases; but, rarer than the money, more priceless than
the property, is the mind which amassed the wealth, and the
heart it could not corrupt when amassed. O Simonides—and thou,
fair Esther—fear not. Sheik Ilderim here shall be witness that
in the same moment ye were declared my servants, that moment I
declared ye free; and what I declare, that will I put in writing.
Is it not enough? Can I do more?"

"Son of Hur," said Simonides, "verily thou dost make servitude
lightsome. I was wrong; there are some things thou canst not do;
thou canst not make us free in law. I am thy servant forever,
because I went to the door with thy father one day, and in my
ear the awl-marks yet abide."

"Did my father that?"

"Judge him not," cried Simonides, quickly. "He accepted me a
servant of that class because I prayed him to do so. I never
repented the step. It was the price I paid for Rachel, the mother
of my child here; for Rachel, who would not be my wife unless I
became what she was."

"Was she a servant forever?"

"Even so."

Ben-Hur walked the floor in pain of impotent wish.

"I was rich before," he said, stopping suddenly. "I was rich with
the gifts of the generous Arrius; now comes this greater fortune,
and the mind which achieved it. Is there not a purpose of God in
it all? Counsel me, O Simonides! Help me to see the right and
do it. Help me to be worthy my name, and what thou art in law
to me, that will I be to thee in fact and deed. I will be thy
servant forever."

Simonides' face actually glowed.

"O son of my dead master! I will do better than help; I will
serve thee with all my might of mind and heart. Body, I have
not; it perished in thy cause; but with mind and heart I will
serve thee. I swear it, by the altar of our God, and the gifts
upon the altar! Only make me formally what I have assumed to be."