Jesus feared to awaken him, but was constrained at last to call after
him: thou'rt dreaming, Paul. Awake! Remember the Essenes ... friends,
friends. But Paul did not hear him, and it was not till Jesus laid his
hand on his shoulder that Paul opened his eyes: thou hast been dreaming,
Paul, Jesus said. Where am I? Paul inquired. With the Essenes, Jesus
answered. I was too tired to sleep deeply, Paul said, and it would be
useless for me to lie down again. I am afraid of my dreams; and together
they stood looking across the abyss watching the rocks opposite coming
into their shapes against a strip of green sky.
The ravine was still full of mist, and a long time seemed to pass before
the bridge and the ruins over against the bridge began to appear. As the
dawn advanced sleep came upon Paul's eyelids. He lay down and dozed
awhile, for about an hour, and when he opened his eyes again Jesus'
hand was upon his shoulder and he was saying: Paul, it is now daybreak:
at the Brook Kerith we go forth to meet the sunrise. To meet the
sunrise, Paul repeated, for he knew nothing of the doctrine of the
Essenes. But he followed Jesus through the gallery and received from him
a small hatchet with instructions how he should use it, and a jar which
he must fill with water at the well. We carry water with us, Jesus said,
for the way is long to the brook; only by sending nearly to the source
can we reach it, for we are mindful not to foul the water we drink. But
come, we're late already. Jesus threw a garment over Paul's shoulder and
told him of the prayers he must murmur. We do not speak of profane
matters till after sunrise. He broke off suddenly and pointed to a place
where they might dig: and as soon as we have purified ourselves, he
continued, we will fare forth in search of shepherds, who, on being
instructed by us, will be watchful for a young man lost on the hills and
will direct him to the Essene settlement above the Brook Kerith. Be of
good courage, he will be found. Hadst thou come before to-day myself
would be seeking him for thee, but yesterday I gave over my flock to
Jacob, a trustworthy lad, who will give the word to the next one, and he
will pass it on to another, and so the news will be carried the best
part of the way to Cæsarea before noon. It may be that thy companion
has found his way to Cæsarea already, for some can return whither they
have come, however long and strange the way may be. Pause, we shall hear
Jacob's pipe answer mine. Jesus played a few notes, which were answered
immediately, and not long afterwards the shepherd appeared over a ridge
of hills. Thy shepherd, Paul said, is but a few years younger than
Timothy and he looks to thee as Timothy looks to me. Tell him who I am
and whom I seek. Jacob, Jesus said, thou didst tell me last night of a
preacher to whom the multitude would not listen, but sought to throw
into the Jordan. He has come amongst us seeking his companion Timothy.
The twain escaped from the multitude, Jacob interjected. That is true,
Jesus answered, but they ran apart above the brook, one keeping on to
Cæsarea, this man followed the path round the rocks (how he did it we
are still wondering) and climbed up to our dwelling. We must find his
companion for him. Jacob promised that every shepherd should hear that a
young man was missing. As soon as a shepherd appears on yon hillside,
Jacob said, he shall have the word from me, and he will pass it on.
Jesus looked up into Paul's anxious face. We cannot do more, he said,
and began to speak with Jacob of rams and ewes just as if Timothy had
passed out of their minds. Paul listened for a while, but finding little
to beguile his attention in their talk, he bade Jesus and Jacob good-bye
for the present, saying he was returning to the cenoby. I wonder, he
said to himself, as he went up the hill, if they'd take interest in my
craft, I could talk to them for a long while of the thread which should
always be carefully chosen, and which should be smooth and of equal
strength, else, however deftly the shuttle be passed, the woof would be
rough. But no matter, if they'll get news of Timothy for me I'll listen
to their talk of rams and ewes without complaint. It was kind of Jacob
to say he did not think Timothy had fallen down a precipice, but what
does he know? and on his way back Paul tried to recall the ravine that
he had seen in the dusk as he leaned over the balcony with Jesus. And as
he passed through the domed gallery he stopped for a moment by the well,
it having struck him that he might ask the brother drawing water to come
with him to look for Timothy. If my son were lying at the bottom of the
ravine, he said, I should not be able to get him out without help. Come
with me.
The Essene did not know who Paul was, nor of whom he was speaking, and
at the end of Paul's relation the brother answered that there might be
two hundred feet from the pathway to the brook, more than that in many
places; but thou'lt see for thyself; I may not leave my work. If a man
be dying the Essene, by his rule, must succour him, Paul said. But I
know not, the Essene answered, that any man be dying in the brook. We
believe thy comrade held on to the road to Cæsarea. So it may have
befallen, Paul said, but it may be else. It may be, the Essene answered,
but not likely. He held on to the road to Cæsarea, and finding thee no
longer with him kept on--or rolled over the cliff, Paul interrupted.
Well, see for thyself; and if he be at the bottom I'll come to help
thee. But it is a long way down, and it may be that we have no rope long
enough, and without one we cannot reach him, but forgive me, for I see
that my words hurt thee. But how else am I to speak? I know thy words
were meant kindly, and if thy president should ask to see me thou'lt
tell him I've gone down the terraces and will return as soon as I have
made search. This search should have been made before. That was not
possible; the mist is only; just cleared, the brother answered, and
Paul proceeded up and down the terraces till he reached the bridge, and
after crossing it he mounted the path and continued it, venturing close
to the edge and looking down the steep sides as he went, but seeing
nowhere any traces of Timothy. Had he fallen here, he said to himself,
he would be lying in the brook. But were Timothy lying there I could not
fail to see him, nor is there water enough to wash him down into Jordan.
It must be he is seeking his way to Cæsarea. Let it be so, I pray God,
and Paul continued his search till he came to where the path twisted
round a rock debouching on to the hillsides. We separated here, he said,
looking round, and then remembering that they had been pursued for
several miles into the hills and that the enemy's scouts might be
lurking in the neighbourhood, he turned back and descended the path,
convinced of the uselessness of his search. We parted at that rock,
Timothy keeping to the left and myself turning to the right, and if
anything has befallen he must be sought for by shepherds, aided by dogs.
Only with the help of dogs can he be traced, he said, and returning
slowly to the bridge, he stood there lost in feverish forebodings, new
ones rising up in his mind continually, for it might well be, he
reflected, that Timothy has been killed by robbers, for these hills are
infested by robbers and wild beasts, and worse than the wild beasts and
the robbers are the Jews, who would pay a large sum of money for his
capture.
And his thoughts running on incontinently, he imagined Timothy a
prisoner in Jerusalem and himself forced to decide whether he should go
there to defend Timothy or abandon his mission. A terrible choice it
would be for him to have to choose between his duty towards men and his
love of his son, for Timothy was more to him than many sons are to their
fathers, the companion of all his travels and his hope, for he was
falling into years and needed Timothy now more than ever. But it was not
likely that the Jews had heard that Timothy was travelling from Jericho
to Cæsarea, and it was a feverish imagination of his to think that they
would have time to send out agents to capture Timothy. But if such a
thing befell how would he account to Eunice for the death of the son
that she had given him, wishing that somebody should be near him to
protect and to serve him. He had thought never to see Eunice again, but
if her son perished he would have to see her. But no, there would be no
time--he had appealed to Cæsar. He must send a letter to her telling
that he had started out for Jericho. A dangerous journey he knew it to
be, but he was without strength to resist the temptation of one more
effort to save the Jews: a hard, bitter, stiff-necked, stubborn race
that did not deserve salvation, that resisted it. He had been scourged,
how many times, at the instigation of the Jews? and they had stoned him
at Lystra, a city ever dear to him, for it was there he had met Eunice;
the memories that gathered round her beautiful name calmed his disquiet,
and the brook murmuring under the bridge through the silence of the
gorge disposed Paul to indulge his memory, and in it the past was so
pathetic and poignant that it was almost a pain to remember. But he must
remember, and following after a glimpse of the synagogue and himself
preaching in it there came upon him a vision of a tall, grave woman
since known to him as a thorn in his flesh, but he need not trouble to
remember his sins, for had not God himself forgiven him, telling him
that his grace was enough? Why then should he hesitate to recall the
grave, oval face that he had loved? He could see it as plainly in his
memory as if it were before him in the flesh, her eyes asking for his
help so appealingly that he had been constrained to relinquish the crowd
to Barnabas and give his mind to Eunice. And they had walked on
together, he listening to her telling how she had not been to the
Synagogue for many years, for though she and her mother were proselytes
to the Jewish faith, neither practised it, since her marriage, for her
husband was a pagan. She had indeed taught her son the Scriptures in
Greek, but no restraint had been put upon him; and she did not know to
what god or goddess he offered sacrifice. But last night an angel
visited her and told her that that which she had always been seeking
(though she had forgotten it) awaited her in the synagogue. So she had
gone thither and was not disappointed. I've always been seeking him of
whom thou speakest. Her very words, and the very intonation of her voice
in these words came back to him; he had put questions to her, and they
had not come to the end of their talk when Laos, calling from the
doorstep, said: wilt pass the door, Eunice, without asking the stranger
to cross it? Whereupon she turned her eyes on Paul and asked him to
forgive her for her forgetfulness, and Barnabas arriving at that moment,
she begged him to enter.
And they had stayed on and on, exceeding their apportioned time,
Barnabas reproving the delay, but always agreeing that their departure
should be adjourned since it was Paul's wish to adjourn it. So Barnabas
had always spoken, for he was a weak man, and Paul acknowledged to
himself that he too was a weak man in those days.
Laos seemed to love Barnabas as a mother, and Laos and Eunice were
received by me into the faith, Paul said. On these words his thoughts
floated away and he became absorbed in recollections of the house in
Lystra. The months he had spent with these two women had been given to
him, no doubt, as a recompense for the labours he had endured to bring
men to believe that by faith only in our Lord Jesus Christ could they be
saved. He would never see Lystra again with his physical eye, but it
would always be before him in his mind's eye: that terrible day the Jews
had dragged him and Barnabas outside the town rose up before him. Only
by feigning death did they escape the fate of Stephen. In the evening
the disciples brought them back. Laos and Eunice sponged their wounds,
and at daybreak they left for Derbe, Barnabas saying that perhaps God
was angry at their delay in Lystra and to bring them back to his work
had bidden the Jews stone them without killing them. Eunice was not sure
that Barnabas had not spoken truly, and Paul remembered with gratitude
that she always put his mission before herself. Thou'lt be safer, she
said, in Derbe, and from Derbe thou must go on carrying the glad tidings
to the ends of the earth. But thou must not forget thy Galatians, and
when thou returnest to Lystra Timothy will be old enough to follow thee.
He had fared for ever onwards over seas and lands, ever mindful of his
faithful Galatians and Eunice and her son whom she had promised to him,
and whom he had left learning Greek so that he might fulfil the duties
of amanuensis.
The silence of the gorge and the murmur of the brook enticed
recollections and he was about to abandon himself to memories of his
second visit to Lystra when a voice startled him from his reverie, and,
looking round, he saw a tall, thin man who held his head picturesquely.
I presume you are our guest, and seeing you alone, I laid my notes aside
and have come to offer my services to you. Your services? Paul repeated.
If you desire my services, Mathias replied; and if I am mistaken, and
you do not require them, I will withdraw and apologise for my intrusion.
For your intrusion? Paul repeated. I am your guest, and the guest of the
Essenes, for last night Timothy and myself were assailed by the Jews. By
the Jews? Mathias replied, but we are Jews. Whereupon Paul told him of
his journey from Cæsarea, and that he barely escaped drowning in the
Jordan. In the escape from drowning Mathias showed little interest, but
he was curious to hear the doctrine that had given so much offence. I
spoke of the Lord Jesus Christ, Paul answered, the one Mediator between
God and man who was sent by his Father to redeem the world. Only by
faith in him the world may be saved, and the Jews will not listen. A
hard, bitter, cruel race they are, that God will turn from in the end,
choosing another from the Gentiles, since they will not accept him whom
God has chosen to redeem men by the death and resurrection from the dead
of the Lord Jesus Christ, raised from the dead by his Father. Mathias
raised his eyes at the words "resurrection from the dead." Of whom was
Paul speaking? He could still be interested in miracles, but not in the
question whether the corruptible body could be raised up from earth to
heaven. He had wearied of that question long ago, and was now propense
to rail against the little interest the Jews took in certain
philosophical questions--the relation of God to the universe, and
suchlike--and he began to speak to Paul of his country, Egypt, and of
Alexandria's schools of philosophy, continuing in this wise till Paul
asked him how it was that he had left a country where the minds of the
people were in harmony with his mind to come to live among people whose
thoughts were opposed to his. That would be a long story to tell,
Mathias answered, and I am in the midst of my argument.
The expression that began to move over Mathias' face told Paul that he
was asking himself once again what his life would have been if he had
remained in Alexandria. Talking, he said, to these Essenes who stand
midway between Jerusalem and Alexandria my life has gone by. Why I
remained with them so long is a question I have often asked myself. Why
I came hither with them from the cenoby on the eastern bank, that, too,
is a matter that I have never been able to decide. You have heard, he
continued, of the schism of the Essenes. How those on the eastern bank
believe that the order can only be preserved by marriage, while those on
the western bank, the traditionalists up there on that rock in that
aerie, would rather the order died than that any change should be made
in the rule of life. In answer to a question from Paul he said he did
not believe that the order would survive the schism. It may be, too,
that I return to Alexandria. No man knows his destiny; but if you be
minded, he said, to hear me, I will reserve a place near to me. My mind
is distracted, Paul replied, by fears for the safety of Timothy; and
perhaps to save himself from Mathias' somewhat monotonous discourse he
spoke of his apostolic mission, interesting Mathias at once, who began
to perceive that Paul, however crude and elementary his conceptions
might be (so crude did they appear to Mathias that he was not inclined
to include them in his code of philosophical notions at all), was a
story in himself, and one not lacking in interest; his ideas though
crude were not common, and their talk had lasted long enough for him to
discern many original turns of speech in Paul's incorrect Greek,
altogether lacking in construction, but betraying constantly an abrupt
vigour of thought. He was therefore disappointed when Paul, dropping
suddenly the story of the apostolic mission, which he had received from
the apostles, who themselves had received it from the Lord Jesus Christ,
began to tell suddenly that on his return from his mission to Cyprus
with Barnabas he had preached in Derbe and Lystra. It was in Lystra, he
cried, that I met Timothy, whom I circumcised with my own hand; he was
then a boy of ten, and his mother, who was a pious, God-fearing woman,
foresaw in him a disciple, and said when we left, after having been
cured by her and her mother of our wounds, when thou returnest to the
Galatians he will be nearly old enough to follow thee, but tarry not so
long, she added. But it was a long while before I returned to Lystra,
and then Timothy was a young man, and ever since our lives have been
spent in the Lord's service, suffering tortures from robbers that sought
to obtain ransom. We have been scourged and shipwrecked. But, said
Mathias, interrupting him, I know not of what you are speaking, and Paul
was obliged to go over laboriously in words the story that he had
dreamed in a few seconds. And when it was told Mathias said: your story
is worth telling. After my lecture the brethren will be glad to listen
to you. But, said Paul, what I have told you is nothing to what I could
tell; and Mathias answered: so much the better, for I shall not have to
listen to a twice-told story. And now, he added, I must leave you, for I
have matter that must be carefully thought out, and in those ruins
yonder my best thinking is done.
Speak to the Essenes; tell them of my conversion? Paul repeated. Why
not? he asked himself, since he was here and could not leave till
nightfall. Festus had given him leave to go to Jericho to preach while
waiting for the ship that was to take him to Rome, and he had found in
Jericho the intolerance that had dragged him out of the Temple at
Jerusalem; circumcision of the flesh but no circumcision of the
spirit.... But here! He had been led to the Essenes by God, and all that
had seemed dark the night before now seemed clear to him. There was no
longer any doubt in his mind that the Lord wished his chosen people to
hear the truth before his servant Paul left Palestine for ever. He had
been led by the Lord among these rocks, perhaps to find twelve
disciples, who would leave their rocks when they heard the truth of the
death and ascension of Jesus of Nazareth and would carry the joyful
tidings to the ends of the earth.