Ben Hur (63 page)

So with Ben-Hur the winter months rolled by, and spring came,
with gladdening showers blown over from the summering sea in the
west; and by that time so earnestly and successfully had he toiled
that he could say to himself and his followers, "Let the good King
come. He has only to tell us where he will have his throne set up.
We have the sword-hands to keep it for him."

And in all his dealings with the many men they knew him only as
a son of Judah, and by that name.

One evening, over in Trachonitis, Ben-Hur was sitting with some
of his Galileans at the mouth of the cave in which he quartered,
when an Arab courier rode to him, and delivered a letter.
Breaking the package, he read,

"Jerusalem, Nisan IV.

"A prophet has appeared who men say is Elias. He has been in the
wilderness for years, and to our eyes he is a prophet; and such
also is his speech, the burden of which is of one much greater than
himself, who, he says, is to come presently, and for whom he is now
waiting on the eastern shore of the River Jordan. I have been to
see and hear him, and the one he is waiting for is certainly the
King you are awaiting. Come and judge for yourself.

"All Jerusalem is going out to the prophet, and with many people
else the shore on which he abides is like Mount Olivet in the last
days of the Passover.

"MALLUCH."

Ben-Hur's face flushed with joy.

"By this word, O my friends," he said—"by this word, our waiting
is at end. The herald of the King has appeared and announced him."

Upon hearing the letter read, they also rejoiced at the promise
it held out.

"Get ready now," he added, "and in the morning set your faces homeward;
when arrived there, send word to those under you, and bid them be
ready to assemble as I may direct. For myself and you, I will go
see if the King be indeed at hand, and send you report. Let us,
in the meantime, live in the pleasure of the promise."

Going into the cave, he addressed a letter to Ilderim, and another
to Simonides, giving notice of the news received, and of his purpose
to go up immediately to Jerusalem. The letters he despatched by
swift messengers. When night fell, and the stars of direction
came out, he mounted, and with an Arab guide set out for the
Jordan, intending to strike the track of the caravans between
Rabbath-Ammon and Damascus.

The guide was sure, and Aldebaran swift; so by midnight the two
were out of the lava fastness speeding southward.

It was Ben-Hur's purpose to turn aside at the break of day, and find
a safe place in which to rest; but the dawn overtook him while out
in the Desert, and he kept on, the guide promising to bring him
afterwhile to a vale shut in by great rocks, where there were a
spring, some mulberry-trees, and herbage in plenty for the horses.

As he rode thinking of the wondrous events so soon to happen,
and of the changes they were to bring about in the affairs of
men and nations, the guide, ever on the alert, called attention
to an appearance of strangers behind them. Everywhere around
the Desert stretched away in waves of sand, slowly yellowing in
the growing light, and without any green thing visible. Over on
the left, but still far off, a range of low mountains extended,
apparently interminable. In the vacancy of such a waste an object
in motion could not long continue a mystery.

"It is a camel with riders," the guide said, directly.

"Are there others behind?" said Ben-Hur.

"It is alone. No, there is a man on horseback—the driver, probably."

A little later Ben-Hur himself could see the camel was white and
unusually large, reminding him of the wonderful animal he had
seen bring Balthasar and Iras to the fountain in the Grove of
Daphne. There could be no other like it. Thinking then of the
fair Egyptian, insensibly his gait became slower, and at length
fell into the merest loiter, until finally he could discern a
curtained houdah, and two persons seated within it. If they were
Balthasar and Iras! Should he make himself known to them? But it
could not be: this was the Desert—and they were alone. But while
he debated the question the long swinging stride of the camel
brought its riders up to him. He heard the ringing of the tiny
bells, and beheld the rich housings which had been so attractive
to the crowd at the Castalian fount. He beheld also the Ethiopian,
always attendant upon the Egyptians. The tall brute stopped close
by his horse, and Ben-Hur, looking up, lo! Iras herself under the
raised curtain looking down at him, her great swimming eyes bright
with astonishment and inquiry!

"The blessing of the true God upon you!" said Balthasar, in his
tremulous voice.

"And to thee and thine be the peace of the Lord," Ben-Hur replied.

"My eyes are weak with years," said Balthasar; "but they approve
you that son of Hur whom lately I knew an honored guest in the
tent of Ilderim the Generous."

"And thou art that Balthasar, the wise Egyptian, whose speech
concerning certain holy things in expectation is having so much
to do with the finding me in this waste place. What dost thou
here?"

"He is never alone who is where God is—and God is everywhere,"
Balthasar answered, gravely; "but in the sense of your asking,
there is a caravan short way behind us going to Alexandria; and as
it is to pass through Jerusalem, I thought best to avail myself
of its company as far as the Holy City, whither I am journeying.
This morning, however, in discontent with its slow movement—slower
because of a Roman cohort in attendance upon it—we rose early,
and ventured thus far in advance. As to robbers along the way,
we are not afraid, for I have here a signet of Sheik Ilderim;
against beasts of prey, God is our sufficient trust."

Ben-Hur bowed and said, "The good sheik's signet is a safeguard
wherever the wilderness extends, and the lion shall be swift that
overtakes this king of his kind."

He patted the neck of the camel as he spoke.

"Yet," said Iras, with a smile which was not lost upon the youth,
whose eyes, it must be admitted, had several times turned to
her during the interchange of speeches with the elder—"Yet
even he would be better if his fast were broken. Kings have
hunger and headaches. If you be, indeed, the Ben-Hur of whom
my father has spoken, and whom it was my pleasure to have known
as well, you will be happy, I am sure, to show us some near path
to living water, that with its sparkle we may grace a morning's
meal in the Desert."

Ben-Hur, nothing loath, hastened to answer.

"Fair Egyptian, I give you sympathy. Can you bear suffering a
little longer, we will find the spring you ask for, and I promise
that its draught shall be as sweet and cooling as that of the more
famous Castalia. With leave, we will make haste."

"I give you the blessing of the thirsty," she replied; "and offer
you in return a bit of bread from the city ovens, dipped in fresh
butter from the dewy meadows of Damascus."

"A most rare favor! Let us go on."

So saying, Ben-Hur rode forward with the guide, one of the
inconveniences of travelling with camels being that it is
necessarily an interdiction of polite conversation.

Afterwhile the party came to a shallow wady, down which, turning to
the right hand, the guide led them. The bed of the cut was somewhat
soft from recent rains, and quite bold in its descent. Momentarily,
however, it widened; and erelong the sides became bluffs ribbed
with rocks much scarred by floods rushing to lower depths ahead.
Finally, from a narrow passage, the travellers entered a spreading
vale which was very delightful; but come upon suddenly from the
yellow, unrelieved, verdureless plain, it had the effect of a
freshly discovered Paradise. The water-channels winding here and
there, definable by crisp white shingling, appeared like threads
tangled among islands green with grasses and fringed with reeds.
Up from the final depths of the valley of the Jordan some venturous
oleanders had crept, and with their large bloom now starred the
sunken place. One palm-tree arose in royal assertion. The bases of
the boundary-walls were cloaked with clambering vines, and under
a leaning cliff over on the left the mulberry grove had planted
itself, proclaiming the spring which the party were seeking.
And thither the guide conducted them, careless of whistling
partridges and lesser birds of brighter hues roused whirring
from the reedy coverts.

The water started from a crack in the cliff which some loving hand
had enlarged into an arched cavity. Graven over it in bold Hebraic
letters was the word GOD. The graver had no doubt drunk there, and
tarried many days, and given thanks in that durable form. From the
arch the stream ran merrily over a flag spotted with bright moss,
and leaped into a pool glassy clear; thence it stole away between
grassy banks, nursing the trees before it vanished in the thirsty
sand. A few narrow paths were noticeable about the margin of the
pool; otherwise the space around was untrodden turf, at sight of
which the guide was assured of rest free from intrusion by men.
The horses were presently turned loose, and from the kneeling camel
the Ethiopian assisted Balthasar and Iras; whereupon the old man,
turning his face to the east, crossed his hands reverently upon
his breast and prayed.

"Bring me a cup," Iras said, with some impatience.

From the houdah the slave brought her a crystal goblet; then she
said to Ben-Hur,

"I will be your servant at the fountain."

They walked to the pool together. He would have dipped the water
for her, but she refused his offer, and kneeling, held the cup to
be filled by the stream itself; nor yet content, when it was cooled
and overrunning, she tendered him the first draught.

"No," he said, putting the graceful hand aside, and seeing only
the large eyes half hidden beneath the arches of the upraised
brows, "be the service mine, I pray."

She persisted in having her way.

"In my country, O son of Hur, we have a saying, 'Better a cupbearer
to the fortunate than minister to a king.'"

"Fortunate!" he said.

There were both surprise and inquiry in the tone of his voice and
in his look, and she said quickly,

"The gods give us success as a sign by which we may know them on
our side. Were you not winner in the Circus?"

His cheeks began to flush.

"That was one sign. There is another. In a combat with swords you
slew a Roman."

The flush deepened—not so much for the triumphs themselves as
the flattery there was in the thought that she had followed his
career with interest. A moment, and the pleasure was succeeded by
a reflection. The combat, he knew, was matter of report throughout
the East; but the name of the victor had been committed to a very
few—Malluch, Ilderim, and Simonides. Could they have made a
confidante of the woman? So with wonder and gratification he
was confused; and seeing it, she arose and said, holding the
cup over the pool,

"O gods of Egypt! I give thanks for a hero discovered—thanks that
the victim in the Palace of Idernee was not my king of men. And so,
O holy gods, I pour and drink."

Part of the contents of the cup she returned to the stream,
the rest she drank. When she took the crystal from her lips,
she laughed at him.

"O son of Hur, is it a fashion of the very brave to be so easily
overcome by a woman? Take the cup now, and see if you cannot find
a happy word in it for me"

He took the cup, and stooped to refill it.

"A son of Israel has no gods whom he can libate," he said,
playing with the water to hide his amazement, now greater
than before. What more did the Egyptian know about him? Had
she been told of his relations with Simonides? And there was
the treaty with Ilderim—had she knowledge of that also? He was
struck with mistrust. Somebody had betrayed his secrets, and they
were serious. And, besides, he was going to Jerusalem, just then
of all the world the place where such intelligence possessed by an
enemy might be most dangerous to him, his associates, and the cause.
But was she an enemy? It is well for us that, while writing is slow,
thought is instantaneous. When the cup was fairly cooled, he filled
it and arose, saying, with indifference well affected,

"Most fair, were I an Egyptian or a Greek or a Roman, I would say"—he
raised the goblet overhead as he spoke—"O ye better gods! I give
thanks that there are yet left to the world, despite its wrongs
and sufferings, the charm of beauty and the solace of love, and I
drink to her who best represents them—to Iras, loveliest of the
daughters of the Nile!"

She laid her hand softly upon his shoulder.

"You have offended against the law. The gods you have drunk to are
false gods. Why shall I not tell the rabbis on you?"

"Oh!" he replied, laughing, "that is very little to tell for one
who knows so much else that is really important."

"I will go further—I will go to the little Jewess who makes the
roses grow and the shadows flame in the house of the great merchant
over in Antioch. To the rabbis I will accuse you of impenitence;
to her—"

"Well, to her?"

"I will repeat what you have said to me under the lifted cup,
with the gods for witnesses."

He was still a moment, as if waiting for the Egyptian to go on.
With quickened fancy he saw Esther at her father's side listening
to the despatches he had forwarded—sometimes reading them. In her
presence he had told Simonides the story of the affair in the Palace
of Idernee. She and Iras were acquainted; this one was shrewd
and worldly; the other was simple and affectionate, and therefore
easily won. Simonides could not have broken faith—nor Ilderim—for
if not held by honor, there was no one, unless it might be himself,
to whom the consequences of exposure were more serious and certain.
Could Esther have been the Egyptian's informant? He did not accuse
her; yet a suspicion was sown with the thought, and suspicions, as we
all know, are weeds of the mind which grow of themselves, and most
rapidly when least wanted. Before he could answer the allusion to
the little Jewess, Balthasar came to the pool.