As both Barzello and his daughter were highly esteemed in Babylon,
Perreeza made many delightful acquaintances and was much sought after.
She was happy in her new life, and by her many accomplishments and
sweet disposition greatly endeared herself to her new found friends.
Among the acquaintances of Barzello, with whom the king’s trusted
officer had been on terms of intimacy for a long term of years, was one
Joram, a rich merchant of the city. Joram was understood to have great
influence at court, owing to the fact that he had traveled all over the
then known world and possessed a valuable knowledge of many nations.
His life was a mysterious one, and, while he was credited with being
the richest man in Babylon, he was little seen outside of his place of
business; but many politicians consulted him, and the king had been
known to send his chariot for Joram day after day when great affairs of
state were on hand. It had also leaked out that people of distinction
from other countries visited the great merchant, and it was correctly
surmised in political circles that Joram had helped to shape many a
commercial treaty in the interests of the Babylonian monarch.
With all his mystery and reticence and secret power, Joram was a loyal
subject of Nebuchadnezzar and ably seconded the king’s efforts for
advancing the greatness of Babylon. His family consisted of his wife
and an adopted son. The latter was a young man of fine attainments, and
was being educated in statecraft as well as mercantile affairs.
Early one evening Barzello had succeeded in persuading Joram to
accompany him home. He had spoken of the young captives and the
beautiful Perreeza, and wished the merchant and his family to know
them. The two elderly men were accompanied to the officer’s house by
Mathias, the adopted son of Joram. They were warmly greeted by
Jupheena, who smilingly conducted Mathias to another part of the house
for the purpose of introducing him to Perreeza.
“Maid of Judah,” said Jupheena, “I have the pleasure of presenting thee
to the honorable Mathias, son of our most excellent Joram.”
At these words the maid arose with calmness and beautiful dignity,
appearing like an angel in human form, and gently responded to the very
low bow of the young Babylonian. The conversation soon became animated.
Mathias talked with all the warmth of his noble nature, producing a
very favorable impression on the mind of the maid of Judah.
“To me it is quite refreshing,” said Perreeza, “to hear a name that is
familiar in Israel. I have many relatives in Judah who are called by
thy name.”
“Our national feelings are strong,” said the young man, “and, if I have
learned correctly, this feeling is said to be stronger in the Hebrew
heart than in all others.”
“I am not so well prepared to vouch for the correctness of the
sentiment,” said Perreeza, “but if my own feelings be an index to the
sentiments of others of my nation, the saying is abundantly true.”
“It is certainly an admirable trait of character,” said the young man,
“and the individual in a foreign land who can think of the home of his
fathers without strong emotion is not, in my opinion, an individual to
be envied.”
“Permit the maid of Judah to thank her friend for that noble
sentiment.”
Here the conversation was arrested by a signal from Barzello, and the
young people went forward to join the other members of the family.
“This is Perreeza, of the royal line of Judah,” said Barzello, taking
the maid gently by the hand, “whom I have the great pleasure of
presenting to my illustrious friend Joram.”
The blushing maid modestly bowed while Joram took her by the hand and
said, with unusual feeling, “May the blessing of the God of thy
fathers, dear maid, accompany thy footsteps in a foreign land.”
This blessing from the lips of a Babylonian was deeply appreciated by
the young woman, who was already touched by the kindness with which she
was met on every hand.
“The Lily of the Valley,” said Joram, referring to Jupheena, “has found
a sweet companion, and the maid of Judah, I trust, will not be
displeased if, by the request of my good friend Barzello, I give her
the name of an appropriate rose.”
“On the contrary,” said Perreeza, “thy young handmaiden is very
grateful to the noble friend of Barzello for every token of his notice
and kind regard.”
“Then, maid of Judah,” said Joram, “thy floral name, from this hour, is
the Rose of Sharon.”
“The Rose of Sharon!” cried Jupheena. “Oh, Perreeza, is not that
delightful? _Rose of Sharon!_”
“Beautiful, indeed!” said Perreeza, “and better than all, it is the
sweet rose of my own native land.”
“True, young maid, true,” said Joram, “’tis the favorite rose of
Judah.”
“The noble friend of Barzello will accept the thanks of his unworthy
young acquaintance for his very happy compliment,” said Perreeza.
“Well,” responded Joram, “one Hebrew lay, accompanied by the harp of
Judah, will recompense us a thousand times.”
“That shall be attended to with pleasure,” said Perreeza, and the two
young women left to bring the harp.
“Now, my good friend, what thinkest thou of the maid of Judah?” asked
Barzello.
“The Rose of Sharon is all loveliness,” said Joram. “Ah, my friend,
sawest thou not the majestic glance of that dark eye, the inimitable
hue of those fair cheeks, the full perfection of those lips, the glossy
richness of the profuse curls, and the marble whiteness of that model
neck? Add to this, my friend, the amiability of her character and her
ripe accomplishments, and in her we find a charming and suitable
companion for the daughter of Barzello.”
“Joram, are the Hebrew women noted for their beauty?”
“Perhaps no nation can boast of greater fairness of complexion among
their females than the Jews.”
“Now the youthful maid of the royal line of Judah will make us happy
with one of her Hebrew melodies, she having brought her favorite harp,”
said Barzello.
“My kind friend may well say favorite harp,” replied Perreeza, with
deep emotion; “for to me, surely, it is a very precious treasure. For
many years it has been in our family. To me it was left by the dearest
of mothers, and to her it was given by a brother beloved, who found an
early grave.”
This was received by the company in silence, but it was noticed that
Joram was deeply affected.
Perreeza took the instrument in her arms, swept her delicate hand over
the well-tuned strings, and, after a moment’s pause sang in seraphic
tones a plaintive melody peculiar to her life in Jerusalem.
[Illustration: Perreeza took the instrument in her arms and sang a
plaintive melody]
Profound silence fell on the assembly after her song was finished. The
performance and its effect were such that applause or compliments would
have sounded ill-timed. All gazed with solemn delight on Perreeza as
she laid aside her harp and took her seat beside Jupheena.
Suddenly, the disappearance of Joram was noticed, and Barzello sprang
up in an agitated manner. The merchant was not in the room, and none
had seen him depart.
“In the name of the gods, what has befallen my good friend!” cried the
officer, as he went to the adjoining apartment.
“Be calm,” faintly replied the voice of Joram, as the host came to
where he was reclining.
“Barzello,” said the guest, “thou hast given me reason these many years
to believe in thy friendship.”
“Thou art not in the least mistaken,” responded Barzello.
“Then I shall proceed without delay to explain my singular conduct,
and, in making these developments, I am confident I shall share the
sympathies of my kind friend. To-night my heart has been almost rent
with contending emotions. I have been well-nigh overwhelmed with both
sadness and joy. During my long residence in this part of the world a
degree of mystery has hung over myself and family, and even to-day my
country and origin are not known. For many years past I have had strong
doubts in regard to the wisdom of this course of secrecy. The time has
at last arrived when my life history must be divulged.
“In the first place, then, let me inform you that I am a Hebrew. I was
born of noble and wealthy parents who lived within the metropolis of
Judah. I was the pride of my father, and by my mother I was almost
idolized. Being of a lively temperament I was fond of company and
overfond of amusements. I was sent to one of the city’s leading halls
of learning and found but little trouble in mastering my studies. I was
early thrown into the companionship of those who had not the fear of
God before their eyes. I drank in their spirit, and, consequently, the
yoke of parental authority became painful to my youthful neck. My
affection for parents and near relatives was strong, and it was not
without a hard struggle that I yielded to the enticements of older
transgressors. Gradually I became the willing companion of youths whose
chief object was amusement.
“One night we tarried together until a late hour and several of my
companions indulged freely in wine. Before we left the scene of our
carousal they had become quite boisterous. I was more sedate than
usual, though entering into the spirit of the occasion. At that late
hour the watchmen, or guards, of the city found it necessary to
interfere and check our hilarity. A fight ensued in which I took part.
Being recognized by one of the officers, I fled the city rather than
face the disgrace of trial and punishment. Taking leave of my sisters,
I was soon far from the land of my birth. My last act was to present to
my favorite sister the harp which thou hast seen and heard to-night.
“My dear friend, judge of my surprise and joy when I recognized in the
maid of Judah one of my own relatives. The beautiful and noble orphan
who is your daughter’s companion in this house is none other than my
own niece.
“I feel that my long neglect of my surviving relatives makes me
unworthy even to serve them, but I am determined now that this sweet
damsel shall share in my wealth and enjoy all the advantages which my
efforts can obtain for her, together with her worthy brothers. In this
way I can make partial atonement for the mistakes of the past.”
This remarkable revelation was soon made known to the excited company.
With a cry of joy the fair maid of Judah fell into the arms of her
uncle. Tears fell from every eye. The “Lily of the Valley” wept, and so
did the brave soldier, her father, and so did young Mathias. The scene
was one that pen cannot adequately describe, but happiness was supreme
in the household.