THE ARM MADE BARE
Lydia went up on the housetop into the shade of the pavilion with the
writing her father had put into her hand, and drawing the hangings on
the east side of the pavilion to shut out the morning sun, sat down to
read how Marsyas had revealed the evil tidings to the alabarch.
It was the first moment of rest she had had since the messenger had
arrived at daybreak with the letter which had flung Cypros into
paroxysms of suffering and desperation. Now that the unhappy princess
had yielded to the benign influence of a narcotic simple, Lydia had
time for her own thoughts.
It was not the same Lydia that had danced on the Temple of Rannu.
Spiritual change as infallibly marks the countenance as physical
change. The last of the half-skeptical, half-philosophical tolerant
equanimity was gone from her face; the self-reliance had been
transformed into a look of faith and believing, and a certain
tranquillity, no less sweet and unshaken because it was sorrowful, no
less patient because its hope was faint, made her forehead placid.
She read:
ROME, Kal. Jul. X, 790.
"TO THE MOST EXCELLENT ALABARCH, ALEXANDER LYSIMACHUS, GOVERNOR OF THE
JEWS OF ALEXANDRIA, GREETING:
"It is my grief to inform thee that at the command of Caesar, my lord
and patron, Herod Agrippa, hath been confined in the Praetorian Camp
awaiting sentence for utterances pronounced treasonous to Caesar.
"Immediately after the prince's arrest, one of the ladies of Caesar's
train was stricken by an illness, resulting from the malarious airs of
the Campagna, and the emperor ordered the immediate return to Capri.
"Inquiry among the emperor's ministers discloses the fact that he left
no explicit instructions concerning the execution of a sentence upon
Agrippa. It is noted in Rome that, owing to the multiplicity of his
duties and the weariness of his mind, the emperor forgets readily, and
is not pleased to be reminded of that which he hath forgotten to
perform. Wherefore, if it please God to erase Agrippa from his mind,
it shall be seen to, here in Rome, that no one recall the unfortunate
prince to Caesar's attention.
"Canvass among the fellows of Agrippa conducted by certain powers in
the state reveals that the movement against the prince did not have its
inception in Rome; however, many were not unwilling to have it come to
pass because of the prince's aggressive political preferences. But now
that he is at the edge of ruin, the insignificant activity in the
capital hath fallen inert; those who contributed to it are alarmed, for
the accomplishment of Agrippa's death will inevitably revert upon the
heads of them who endangered him, should Caius Caligula be crowned.
"The movement against the prince, consummated by the charioteer
Eutychus, had its inception, as I have said, not in Rome. The man
stole of his master's wardrobe and ran away. When he was apprehended
he claimed that he had information against Agrippa which concerned the
life and welfare of Caesar. Piso, city prefect, bound the man and sent
him to Tusculum, where, by the solicitations of Antonia, who was
commanded by Agrippa, the emperor heard the charioteer's charge.
"Thou and I know, good my lord, that Eutychus is too clumsy a villain,
too much of a coward, to invent and push this bold work himself,
without support. Wherefore, I and others are convinced that he must
have been inspired and aided by some secret and shrewd enemy outside of
Rome. If the proconsul of Egypt is not yet informed of this disaster,
do not trouble him with the information!
"It may assist thee to know that Eutychus, given ten stripes as earnest
of Caesar's respect for him, and turned loose, eluded mine and
Caligula's vengeance and immediately took ship for Alexandria. Expect
him in the Brucheum.
"Know this, also. If Caesar forget and Agrippa live on, this enemy will
grow restive and bestir himself again, wherefore it is the duty of them
who love the prince to watch for any coiling which prepares for the
stroke.
"For thine own comfort and for the comfort of his unhappy princess, I
add here, though in peril to the prince's benefactor and to myself,
that Agrippa's prison discomforts are alleviated, and kind usage
secured him by the generous distribution of gold among them who
surround him. It is not a difficult matter to secure him comparative
comfort.
"Silas and I daily come to him with fresh clothing, and abundant food:
he hath his own bedding and his daily bath. Through the influence of
the praetorian prefect, obtained at great price by Antonia, none is
permitted to pronounce Agrippa's name outside the camp, on pain of
extreme punishment--a clever pretense at abhorring a traitor which aims
only at his defense.
"Thy part is to quiet, within thy powers, any work in Alexandria which
may lead to Caesar's remembering Agrippa.
"I have closed the prince's residence, dispersed his slaves among the
families of his friends, and with Silas I am living under the roof of
Antonia, in whose care I am permitted to receive letters. The Lady
Junia is at Capri at my solicitation, pledged to do a woman's part in
the protection of Agrippa.
"May the God of our fathers arm thee.
"Peace to thee and thine.
"MARSYAS."
Lydia sighed and let the writing drop into her lap.
"I can not hope, my Marsyas," she said to herself, "if thou art
schooled in the understanding of women by Junia!"
The Roman tincture was patent in the letter, but the Jewish manner,
Jewish penetration, and the Essenic coldness were strong and unaltered.
His well-beloved and unchanged hand had pressed all the surface of the
parchment, but she did not lift it to her lips. There had been no word
beyond the general greeting to her as the family of the alabarch, and
proud, even in her sorrow and the new-found humility, she saved her
endearments.
After a moment of further thought, she was aroused by the rattle of
wheels which came to an end before the porch of her father's house.
She arose and going to the parapet looked over. Justin Classicus'
chariot stood there. She caught the last flutter of his garments as he
disappeared under the roof of the porch.
She went back to her place and waited for a servant to announce the
guest. But Classicus lingered. The alabarch was not like to be
telling him the account of Agrippa's latest misfortune.
She put away Marsyas' letter and gazed at the Synagogue immersed in the
golden flood of Egyptian sunshine. She had not ceased to love it, nor
to attend it with all maiden fidelity since she had followed Jesus of
Nazareth, but it seemed to love her less, to throw a shadow darker, but
less benign, over her, as she approached its giant gates. Saul of
Tarsus whom she had feared for Marsyas' sake was a hidden menace now in
its great angles, a threat in its rituals, a brooding danger held up
only so long as she hid in deceit. She felt unutterably lonely and
friendless.
Presently Classicus came up unannounced. She knew at a glance that he
had learned from some source of Agrippa's misfortune, and wondered for
a moment if her father had forgotten Marsyas' charge.
"Alexandria hath heard of Agrippa's disaster," he began, as he seated
himself beside her, "and I came to offer my consolation and my aid."
Then Flaccus already had the news!
"I would thou couldst aid us, Justin. Not now is anything more
precious than help, and nothing less possible."
"And to say lastly," he continued, looking into her face, "that I
deplore that haunted look in thine eyes, Lydia. What does it mean?"
"That I grow older, wiser, sadder--and less fortunate."
"Thou shouldst study the philosophy of the Nazarenes," he declared. "I
find that much of their teaching, stripped of its frenzy and reduced to
the dignity of pure language, hath much comfort in it."
"Does it promise that sorrow will not come to them who espouse it?" she
asked, looking away.
"Nay, but it preaches universal love. Could I teach thee that, sorrow
should never approach thee or me henceforth!"
"I fear thou dost not understand them," she said dubiously.
"Not wholly," he admitted. "I have not yet been able to agree with
them, that I, Justin Classicus, scholar and Sadducee, should find it in
my heart to love a crook-back shepherd that speaks Aramaic, rejoices on
conchs, relishes onions and is washed only when the rains wet him."
He smiled, and Justin Classicus' face was helped by a smile. Mirth
possessed him entirely, cast up a transitory flush in his cheeks and
lighted torches in his eyes. But Lydia looked across the Alexandrian
housetops.
"Why dost thou seek this new philosophy, Justin?" she asked.
"To see if it be safe enough heresy to teach thee," he returned. "If
it be, thou shall learn it, for in its creed of universal love, I put
mine only hope that thou shalt come to love me!"
"Learn the universal love for thyself, Justin: learn to love the
shepherd and thine enemy--learn it in all truth, and thou mayest be
content with that, and no more!"
"The Lord forbid!" he cried. "If that should come to pass, learning
this new philosophy, I pause, even now!"
"Enemy?" he repeated, after a little in a gentler tone. "Save another
hath possessed thy heart, I have no enemy--the Nazarenes recommending
that one leave them out of one's catalogue of fellows!"
"Canst thou not hold off thy hand, even from an enemy? Hath thy search
after their philosophy taught thee so much?"
He looked at her face, and saw thereon something to follow.
"I can--be bought," he answered softly.
She remembered his part in the ambuscade the night of the Dance of
Flora, and her face paled a little.
"It is not the Nazarene way," she replied unreadily.
"Nay, but if the demand be great enough, any method must serve. Shall
I name my price?" His voice was clear and illuminating.
She arose and moved over to one of the columns, and leaning against it
gazed across toward the blue sparkle of the New Port. She felt the
strength of his fortification, the extent of his power over her. Not
any of the many things she had hidden from all but Marsyas were unknown
to him!
She turned to him with appeal in her eyes, but he laughed very softly,
and wrapped the kerchief skilfully about his head. His composure
terrified her. He held out his hand.
"Think," he said, "and to-morrow or the next to-morrow, but soon, thou
wilt tell me. Meanwhile I shall tell thy father that I have spoken
with thee."
He took her fingers and kissed them.
"Farewell. And let the Nazarenes persuade thee, if I can not!"
A long time after she heard the wheels of his chariot roll away from
before the alabarch's porch. Then with slow, weary steps she went down
into the house. She would seek out her father, and discover what to
expect from Flaccus and if disaster could be averted from the beloved
head of Marsyas and the unhappy Herod. Not until then would she
entertain the suggested sacrifice which Classicus had so deftly
demanded.
But when she reached the inner chamber, with the arch opening into the
alabarch's presiding room, she saw within the proconsul.
She hesitated, surprised and alarmed, but presently her father, raising
his eyes, saw her and signed to her to enter.
The proconsul stopped in the middle of a sentence to greet her, not
from courtesy, but because she was a consideration. She took her place
on an ivory footstool at the foot of the alabarch's chair and seemed to
efface herself.
Lysimachus trifled with a stick of wax and heard Flaccus to the end of
the sentence. The old tone of assumed cordiality was gone. Flaccus
had ascended again to the plane of a legate speaking with a Jew.
"So I shall pay thee thy five talents and release the lady, that she
may be sent to Rome," he concluded.
"The gossip of the lady's arrival in Rome would work havoc, sir. She
would be there engaging Antonia's attention, which should be devoted
without lapse, in other directions."
"The Herod's lady need not arrive with the blare of trumpets," was the
cool retort, "and since thy talents are returned to thee, Lysimachus,
thou art not asked to carry thy concern into Rome."
The thin cheeks of the alabarch grew pink and Lydia raised a pair of
somber eyes to the proconsul's face.
"It is not a matter of my loan," the alabarch answered without a tremor
in his melodious voice, "but it is that I held her in hostage in the
beginning."
"At my suggestion. Then thou canst release her at my suggestion--and
if the loan sits roughly on thy conscience we shall call it a gift at
this late day."
"If it please thee, good sir, we have left the discussion of the
talents. It is the lady who concerns us now. I would be plain with
thee; I should reproach myself did I let her proceed out of my house."
"Call the lady," Flaccus commanded. "We will lay the matter before
her."
"She sleeps," Lydia said.
"I bring her more relief than sleep," was the blunt reply. "Bring her
hither."
"On one promise," Lydia said.
"What?"
"That I and my servants alone shall accompany her to Rome."
Flaccus gazed straight at the alabarch's daughter. Lysimachus sat
without movement. He knew that his daughter had seen at once that
which he had instantly divined--that Flaccus had no intention of
sending Cypros to Rome.
"Bring the lady," Flaccus insisted, "and we shall lay our plans
thereafter."
Lydia sat still; she knew Cypros' believing nature; that she would see
nothing but a generous offer in the proconsul's intent; that to prevent
the simple woman from consenting to destroy herself the whole villainy
of the proconsul would have to be uncovered to her--doubtless before
Flaccus, with unimaginable results. The alabarch looked down on his
daughter's fair head, away from Flaccus' threatening gaze and waited
for her answer.
"My lord," she said composedly, "we have complicated our associations
with thee and this unfortunate family long enough. Perchance we erred.
At best it may no longer be maintained. Though the Lady Cypros is
uninformed, I and others know why thou hast been tolerant of our people
of late; what deed thou didst attempt in the passage back of Rannu's
Temple on the closing night of Flora's feast; what disaster overtook
thee there; why Agrippa, now, is undone and what thou meanest in truth
to do with his princess."
There was silence. Then the alabarch's hand dropped down on Lydia's
curls.
"Daughter, thou art weaponed with testimony new to thy father; thou
hast kept thy arms concealed. Yet I will take them up, now." He
raised his eyes to Flaccus.
"Perchance thou wouldst explain to me my daughter's meaning?"
After a dangerous dilation of his gray-brown eyes, Flaccus seemed more
than ever composed.
"Is my favor worth aught to the Jews?" he asked.
"Jews," the alabarch replied, "do not purchase immunity at sacrifice of
the honor of their women."
"I am not enraged, Alexander," was the reply. "I am only diverted.
But the Herod under sentence of death and the Alexandrians loosed upon
the Regio Judaeorum, it seems that the Lady Herod will soon be without a
protector or a roof-tree. She had much better go--to Rome!"
He strode out of the presiding-room and into the street before the
alabarch could conduct him to the door.
Lysimachus and his daughter looked at each other. Their thoughts
reached out and gathered in for contemplation all the details and the
results of the climax. Then the alabarch opened his arms to his
daughter and she slipped down on his breast.
"Tell me what thou knowest against Flaccus, and why I have not learned
of this?" he urged.
It was a sore trial to Lydia's conscience to leave out her own part in
the story she told, but the alabarch was less attentive to the source
of her information than to the information itself.
"I did not tell it sooner, because, in ignorance thou wouldst not be
constantly hiding from Flaccus a distaste, distrust and watchfulness
that infallibly would have controlled thee hadst thou known his hands
were red with the blood of a man of whom he spoke fair and whom he
pretended to love, before the world!"
"What shall we do?" she asked after a long silence, for the press of
many evils had stunned her resourcefulness.
"Tell the princess first," the alabarch responded.
"And then?"
"Fight! He can invent twenty excuses to take Cypros from me by law and
against her will."
"Then we must hide her and speedily!"
The alabarch thrust his old waxen fingers into his white locks.
"Now who will imperil himself by giving her asylum?" he pondered.
Lydia looked up after a little thought.
"The Nazarenes," she ventured timidly.
"What! The apostates! The community is the most perilous spot in
Egypt!"
"Here in Alexandria, of a truth," Lydia hurried on eagerly, "but thou
knowest by report that they have spread abroad among rustics and
shepherds as a running vine. Many are living about over the Delta.
One of them will shelter her, I know. She will go when we have told
her what threatens, nor fail to flourish on their rough fare, since she
hath made her bed by the roadways, and had her bread from the hands of
wayside mendicants!"
The alabarch arose and set her on her feet.
"Haste, then, Lydia; no time is to be lost!"
But before she reached the threshold of the archway she turned back and
came slowly to him, closer and closer, until she raised her arms and
put them about his neck.
"Father!" she whispered, "we need have fear of Classicus."
The pallor on the old man's face quivered like the reflection of a
shaken light.
"He is jealous," he answered, "of Marsyas! Hath he cause, my daughter?"
Lydia dropped her head on the alabarch's breast.
"Marsyas is an Essene!" she whispered, and the alabarch smoothed her
curls and was filled with pity.