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.
"Come hither, my daughter," said Judith, in a voice of tender
commiseration, as she looked on her agitated countenance; "come
hither, and learn to take comfort from the Source where I have sought
and found it. Your trial is heavy indeed: perhaps it is even harder
for you to bear this affliction than for me; for I shall yet, by
God's mercy, have an affectionate and beloved husband to share my
sorrows; and you, my poor Claudia, you will, alas! be very desolate.
Nevertheless, there is one Comforter who will never leave you. That
'Friend who sticketh closer than a brother' is ever near to support
and strengthen you; and leaning on his Almighty arm, you may bear
even the coming hour without repining."
Claudia threw herself into the arms of Judith, and exclaimed, "I have
cast off that friend! Oh! my mother, I have been a traitor to Him,
and he will sustain me no longer."
"My child," replied Judith, "grief has caused your reason to forsake
you. Why do you utter such dreadful words? How can you have cast
off the Lord, whose service is a delight to you?"
"I have done worse, Judith," said Claudia, shuddering, and fixing on
her a look of such wild grief as terrified both her and Naomi. "Do
not interrupt me; I will tell you all, and then you will curse me,
and cast me from you, and earth and heaven will abhor me!"
"Cease, dearest Claudia," cried Naomi, approaching the unhappy girl,
who shrunk from her as if she felt unworthy of the sympathy of one so
pure and good as her friend appeared in her eyes; "compose yourself,
for you are labouring under some painful delusion. Why did I let you
leave us this morning, and not follow you and bring you back to
Judith? I thought you were with my mother, and that her kind
sympathy would soothe your mind."
"Why did I leave you, indeed, Naomi!" replied Claudia; "you would
have saved me from this crime. Let me speak it all, for my heart
will break if I do not confess my sin. I have written a letter to
Theophilus, and ere this he has received and read it. I have
implored him for my sake to deny his Redeemer,--for my sake to make a
profession of returning to Judaism! I told him that he would be my
murderer if he spoke the word that would seal his condemnation
to-morrow. Oh! I said more than all that--I sought to make myself
his idol, and to cause his love for one so despicable to stand
between him and his God! He will not heed my guilty ravings, for he
is too holy to be infected with such base weakness. But he will
loathe me, and despise me as I deserve; and when he is a pure and
blessed saint in heaven, I shall have lost the only consolation that
could have remained to me--that of knowing that his heart was mine
until it ceased to beat; and hoping that when mine was cold in death
my spirit might soar above, and join him in those realms of peace
which Jesus Christ has promised to those who are _faithful to the
end_."
Judith and Naomi were filled with horror and alarm at this passionate
declaration of Claudia's. They grieved deeply that she should have
fallen into such a snare of the evil one, and thus have added another
and a most bitter trial to those which now surrounded Theophilus.
They did not apprehend that his faith would be shaken in the
slightest degree; but they knew that nothing could make death so
dreadful to him as the belief that Claudia was wavering and unsteady
in the religion which he had delighted to teach her, and that when he
was no longer at her side, she might sink back into comparative
darkness and unbelief. The depth and sincerity of her repentance
were most evident to them; and all they now desired was to soothe and
tranquillize her mind, and to find some means of conveying to
Theophilus the assurance that she was not so unworthy of his
affections as her recent conduct might lead him to suppose.
When by their affectionate efforts they had succeeded in calming the
violent emotion of their self-condemned and humbled young friend, and
convincing her that she had not sinned beyond hope of pardon either
from God or man, they proceeded to consider how it would be possible
for them to have any further communication with Theophilus. Many
difficulties presented themselves; for his place of confinement was
strictly guarded, and none could enter the building which contained
his cell but the members of the council, or those who were furnished
with an order from them. Zadok had received such an order, that he
might have the opportunity of holding a controversy with his nephew,
and persuading him to save his life: but no other person was
permitted to visit him, and Zadok had already gone forth to seek the
final and decisive interview. Javan had full power to enter the
prison at all times, and to converse with the captives; but how would
he ever be induced to convey such intelligence as they wished to
communicate? He had absented himself from home almost entirely since
the fatal night when his cousin was taken prisoner; and when he did
join his family, his manner was so abstracted and reserved, that his
presence only tended to increase their unhappiness, and add to their
conviction that he was the author of all their sorrow. In spite of
all this, Naomi resolved to make an appeal to him, and endeavour to
obtain his consent to her having an interview with Theophilus
previous to his appearance before the council on the following day.
While the three friends were engaged in this conversation, Amaziah
entered the room. He had been absent for many hours, employed in
seeking aid from his personal friends in an enterprise which he had
determined to attempt, but had not yet confided to his wife. He
feared to excite her hopes by telling her of a scheme which might
probably end in disappointment; and though she knew that he was
labouring to interest his friends in behalf of Theophilus, she
believed it was merely with a hope that by their means a majority of
the counsellors might be brought to give a favourable judgment. This
was a very slender hope, and Judith put no confidence in such an
improbable result. She almost regretted that her husband should
expose himself so much to observation, and the chance of being
apprehended, when no reasonable expectation of any advantage could
attend his exertions. Each night when he returned home she greeted
him with joy and gratitude that another day of peril had passed away
and yet he was unharmed: and every morning when he left the house
another burden of grief and anxiety was laid upon her heart; for she
felt that he might also be betrayed into the hands of his enemies,
and share the fate of her son, notwithstanding the precaution which
he always took of being himself well armed, and attended by two or
three faithful servants, also provided with weapons.
Amaziah looked thoroughly harassed and worn out with fatigue of mind
and body when on this evening ha came home from his wanderings. But
his countenance was more cheerful, and his voice more encouraging, as
he met the greeting of his wife with affectionate cordiality, and
replied to her anxious inquiries concerning his success, and also
whether he had met with anything to excite alarm for his own personal
safety.
"I have been somewhat cheered by the deep sympathy which is felt for
us and our dear boy by all who knew him well; and many have promised
to spare no efforts that can in any way assist our cause. But,
Judith, do not hope much from this. The council is composed of men
who are little disposed to listen to any voice but that of bigotry or
selfishness, and the only member of that self-elected tribunal who is
favourable to our cause is Isaac. He sees that Mary is resolved to
abide by her declaration that the death of Theophilus shall be the
rupture of her engagement with him, and therefore he will give his
vote for mercy. But Javan will not listen either to him or me, and
almost all the other counsellors are devoted to him. Let us not
despair, neither let us cherish vain hopes, but say from our hearts,
'the will of the Lord be done!'"
"Yes, my dearest Amaziah, I have, by the help of the Lord, taught my
troubled spirit to rest more peacefully on His decrees, and to feel
that all is wisdom and all is love. I believe that I can resign my
son to the Lord, and refrain from murmuring; and now my most anxious
fears are for your safety. Tell me whether it is threatened, or
whether the best and greatest earthly blessing that God has given to
me is yet permitted to remain and comfort me in the loss of every
other?"
"I hope and believe that it is the will of God, my beloved, that we
may yet travel on through this wilderness together, to be a solace
and delight to each other, as we have hitherto been. But I clearly
perceive that this city is no longer a place of safety for us; and
whatever it may cost us we must abandon it, and seek a distant
refuge, as soon as nothing remains to be hoped or feared for our
Theophilus. I have been warned by several friends on whom I can
depend, and chiefly by the excellent Benjamin, that many of the
Pharisees and counsellors have resolved to effect our ruin and
destruction; and that when they have accomplished their cruel
purposes against our son, and the rest of the victims whom they now
design to glorify with the crown of martyrdom, their next step will
be to draw us into the same fate, while they believe we are
overwhelmed with sorrow, and may fall an easy prey to their malice.
They know not the power of our blessed faith to enable us to triumph
over every calamity; and to possess our souls in peace, even when the
hand of the enemy is permitted to press heavily upon us."
"O my husband, how your piety and strength of mind support and
comfort me, and put all my evil doubts and fears to shame!"
"And how they yet more abase and humble me!" added Claudia, in a
trembling voice. "Judith, you will tell Amaziah of my sin and my
repentance, and plead with him to pardon me, as you have already
done."
Claudia's unhappy story was soon made known to Amaziah; and every
extenuation of her fault that kindness could suggest was added by her
friend, and received with equal consideration by him whose
displeasure she expected and feared, though his regret at the
misguided step she had taken was very great. He encouraged Naomi in
her intention of seeking permission to see Theophilus, as the only
means of removing the unhappy impression which Claudia's letter must
undoubtedly produce on his upright and resolute mind; and also as the
only opportunity which might be afforded them all of conveying to him
their last assurance of undying love, and warm approbation of his
faithful and courageous conduct. Naomi went to seek Javan, and found
him just entering the vestibule, in company with Zadok. He listened
to her request with a stern and somewhat suspicious countenance, and
demanded for what purpose it was that she sought an interview with
the prisoner.
"It is to carry a last message from my unhappy friend Claudia, and to
give him his parents' blessing. They know that he will not purchase
life at the expense of his conscience, and before he appears to hear
his condemnation to-morrow they would wish to let him know their
sentiments."
"They are already well known to others, as well as to Theophilus,"
muttered Javan; "and they may yet have further cause to rue their
folly and imprudence. Why should they encourage their son in his
obstinacy?" he added in a louder voice. "Why should they wish to
urge him on to self-destruction, and compel me to be accessory to the
death of my cousin? I would spare him if I could, but he will listen
to no terms, and make no concessions."
"I never witnessed such firmness," said Zadok, and a tear glistened
in his eye as he spoke. "That unhappy boy has made me love and
respect him more than I ever did; even while he has grieved and
angered me by his bold declaration of unshaken belief in the divinity
of the Nazarene, and his determined opposition to all my arguments.
Truly I believed that the sensible and feeling letter which poor
Claudia addressed to him would have brought him to his senses, and
shown him the folly of consigning his family to misery for the sake
of his wild, unfounded notions. But no; he read it with tears, but
they were tears of grief and disappointment, and not of natural
sympathy. He showed me the letter; and as he put it in my hand he
exclaimed, 'Here is the bitterness of death, when those who love me
best prove false to the holy faith which supports me!' From that
moment sorrow took possession of his countenance, and he would listen
to nothing which I was prepared to urge. I was forced to leave him
far more depressed than I have ever seen him; and if you, Naomi, can
say ought to lighten the load on his spirit, I will join with you in
requesting your brother to give you an order to visit him. He is
resolved to die, but I cannot bear that his last moments should thus
be clouded with fresh sorrow."
"Oh yes!" cried Naomi, "I can chase away those clouds, and make him
calm again. Dear Javan, do not refuse my prayer, but grant to
Theophilus the only comfort that can now avail to cheer him. If I
could hope to move you to yet greater mercy, I would kneel to you,
and weep till the fountain of my eyes was dried up; but I know it
will be in vain."
"Speak not to me of pleading for an apostate," said Javan, "or you
may lose the boon you have already asked. Were I weak enough to give
way to my own feelings of compassion, my companions in the council
would better know their duty to God and man than to join me. The
life of Theophilus is justly forfeited; but whatever may make his
doom more tolerable I will gladly consent to. Swear to me that you
have no design for aiding his escape, and I will let you see him."
"I have no object, Javan, but to act as a messenger from his friends.
Would to God that they also might visit him!"
"No, Naomi, I am acting contrary to the express orders of the council
in permitting any of his relatives, except our revered father, to
hold any intercourse with him. It would only add to their own danger
to attempt it. If you wish to go to the prison this evening, you
must not delay, for night is closing in, and in another hour the
prison will be shut, and the gates will not be opened on any pretext
until after sunrise."
Javan went to prepare the necessary order for Naomi; and she was
hastening to communicate to her anxious friends the result of her
errand, when Zadok recalled her.
"Here, my child," he said, "take this letter to Claudia, and tell her
that Theophilus bade me say he would have written to her, but he did
not possess the means. He told me to give her his most faithful love
and dying benediction, and to say that he would try to forget she had
written the letter which had caused him more sorrow than anything he
had suffered since last he saw her. He said much more, but my own
opinions forbid me to repeat the language which in his mistaken zeal
he uttered. You will see him yourself; and I only pray that his
present situation may act as a warning to you, Naomi, and deter you
from persisting in a course which may lead to a repetition of such
misery, and cause inexpressible sorrow to your dear mother and to me."
Naomi received the letter, and in silence withdrew, and hurried to
the apartment where Claudia was waiting her return, with Amaziah and
Judith. The agitated girl listened to the message which was sent by
Theophilus, and took the ill-advised manuscript in her hand; but
instantly threw it from her with abhorrence, and burst into an agony
of tears.
"O Naomi!" she sobbed forth, "he does forgive me, then; but I know he
despises me. Tell him my heart is breaking, and that the loss of his
esteem was the last blow that was wanting to crush me to the earth."
"Dear Claudia," replied Naomi, "he will love you as sincerely and as
fervently as ever when he knows how true your repentance is, and
remembers that it was excess of love to him that led you to seek his
preservation in a way that your own conscience condemned. I will go
to him, and say all that you could wish. I strove to obtain
permission for you and his parents to see him, but Javan would not
hear of it. Farewell for one hour, and fear not but that Theophilus
will be restored to peace by what I shall tell him."
[Illustration: Christian Ladies]