makes the impression of being without weight, and which, with the
aid of proper draperies, gives the illusion of floating in the air.
But her body had clearly taken on solidity, and a distribution of
substance better adapted to one who would pose in stateliness than to
one who would play the sylph. There is a grace of motion and another
grace of inertia. Very young persons ordinarily monopolize the former;
the latter is the compensation which nature gives for advancing
years. Helena did not realize the grade she had attained in beautiful
womanhood--not an uncommon inadvertence of her sex. Otherwise she
danced with faultless art--art evidently acquired only through careful
instruction and lengthened practice; the art which, according to
Glaucon, was forbidden to princely personages and free-born women among
the Greeks. Her performance ended in an attitude illustrative of the
closing lines of the song, in which the singer accepts the embrace of
her lover. Helena's face flushed with the excitement of the exercise.
Her eyes flickered unsteadily through the effect of the wine. As the
last note died upon her lips she reached out her hands to Glaucon.
Whether the Jew was dazed by the superb acting, or by the unexpected
revelation on the part of the actress, we may not say--but dazed he
seemed, for he sat stupidly still.
His irresponsive look startled, if it did not sober, the dancer.
She gazed about her; put her hand to her head, as if to realize her
identity; and, tripping upon the robe which she had dropped from her
hand, fell into her seat.
"I must be ill," she said. "Give me--give me--some wine."
One by one her guests, with such semblance of courtesy as the Princess'
condition allowed them to render, took their departure; but not until
one of the dancing women was heard to declare:
"I will bet my garters that she is none other than the great Clarissa
herself; for I am sure that the old Queen of the Grove of Daphne could
not have done it better. Did you catch the trill?"
"Aye, and the long step and the short one. 'Beauty's Limp' they call
it. Clarissa invented that, and all the girls in the Grove practised
it; but they say that nobody could do it perfectly except herself."
"I think that the Princess did it splendidly, except that her flesh
wobbled; she's too fat."
"What became of the Queen of the Grove?"
"I have heard that she went away with General Apollonius. I will wager
my silver anklets against your bronze ones that Clarissa came down
to Jerusalem when Apollonius was killed, and that she has been taken
up by that fig-headed fellow who ordered the drink. The Princess!
Ha, ha! She's the Queen--our Queen of Daphne! If she comes out again
I will fall down at her feet, and bite off a piece of her big toe to
carry back to Antioch as a memento; that is, if we ever get out of this
Jewish hole."
"May the gods favor us as well as they have Clarissa!" was her
companion's reply.
"Aye, when we get so heavy in the thighs, and so stiff in the joints.
When that comes I, too, will sell what is left of me to a Jew. But
let's have a drink."
She threw a kiss at a Greek officer leaving the court, and bent over
the wine crater, singing:
Inside heat for outside heat,
Good for both the head and feet.
Give me love and give me wine.
Give me both, or I'm not thine. Tra-la!
XXVIII
A PRISONER
Captain Dion was not at the house of Helena the night of the
entertainment. He was more seriously engaged with Meton, the Commandant
at the citadel. The two men sat on opposite sides of a narrow oaken
table. This was the only furniture of the stone-encased apartment,
except the low stools the men occupied, some changes of armor that hung
from the bronze pegs in the walls, a soldier's chest, and a tankard and
goblets which stood between the Commandant and his guest. The men were
in striking contrast. Meton was short, broad-shouldered, square-headed,
crab-eyed, with complexion which might have been due to weather
exposure or overmuch indulgence in wine--doubtless to both.
"I appreciate your feeling in regard to so fine a woman," said the
Commandant, "and I have no doubt that she rewards your good offices
with personal favors. No offence, my friend, no offence! for were I
younger I should prize a woman's smile as highly as you do. But I tell
you, Captain, she must be seized."
"With proper deference to your opinion," responded Dion, "I am not
prepared to admit the force of your reasons for suspecting her. Indeed,
I am quite sure that I can disprove what her enemies say of her. But,
passing that, it were impolitic to lay hands on one so close to Glaucon
and the High Priest."
"Glaucon! He has not a shred of influence in Jerusalem except
as Menelaos allows him to pose under his shadow. And listen,
Captain,"--lowering his voice and glancing furtively about the
apartment--"Menelaos is through with Glaucon. The Jew has about wound
up his tether, and is of no more use to the Priest than a date pit is
to the pulp after it has ripened. It is the High Priest himself who has
secured evidence against the woman. I do not praise his purpose; but
Menelaos, the circumcised hypocrite, would be as false to us Greeks as
he has been to his own race, if his greed led that way. Just now he is
weighting his dice to get possession of the estate of Elkiah, which
they say includes that of Ben Shattuck. If this Berenice, or Deborah,
or whatever her name may be, can be proved to be in league with the
Maccabæans, it will be sufficient for the King, which is another name
for the High Priest, to confiscate the property; since he would not
trust Glaucon, who harbors her in his house. It was different when she
was thought to be dead."
"But what evidence has been secured?" asked Dion with simulated
calmness, which one less stolid than his companion would have seen to
cover deep excitement.
"Evidence? Evidence in abundance! Though I confess to you, Captain, I
don't believe a word of it any more than you do. The woman is scarcely
more than a child, and yet the Princess is ready to swear that she
was once a Jewish spy whom she herself had seen about the camp of
Apollonius before his blunder at the Wady. Faugh! It is incredible. If
fawns were used as hounds to scent out leopards, then Glaucon's sister
might be a spy."
"Is the Princess' word all we have for the accusation?"
"No. We have caught two men who were with Judas; they will swear for
the sake of their lives--and men will swear anything for that--that
the daughter of Elkiah was with the rebels just before the battle of
Bethhoron."
"But I could swear that she was not, for I myself saw her in her
brother's house the very night of the battle," cried Dion, bringing
his fist down upon the table that separated them. "I will put my word
against the two traitors; and which will you take, General Meton?"
"Quiet, Captain! quiet! or I will believe the report that her black
eyes have bewitched you. Whose word will I take--yours or the Jews'?
Why, theirs, of course, since we will not allow you to testify at all.
Captain, you and I know that this is not an affair of justice, but only
a thread in some web the High Priest and the Princess are spinning. But
what of that? Neither of us is big enough to withstand Menelaos; and I,
for one, will not attempt it. The woman must be seized."
"But does the law of our service permit an accused woman no defendant?"
"No defendant will be needed in this case. My orders are peremptory.
They come from General Gorgias, that she shall be arrested, and held
until his arrival in the city, when he himself will judge the case. But
there is hope for her. She is marvellously beautiful, though her eyes
have too much lightning in them for me. Gorgias is an artist in flesh;
and as the judges did in Phryne's case, he will find as many witnesses
of her innocence as she has charms. But, Captain, I can serve your
fancy. For your interest in the woman I will put her custody into your
hands until Gorgias comes. You certainly will not object to that, or
you have colder blood than I credit your years with. You may bring her
to the citadel, or you may guard her in her own house, in your arms if
you want to; but you know our laws--your life for hers if she escapes.
First, however, her accusation must be published. On this the High
Priest insists. Captain, do you accept her custody, or shall I send
another?"
"Under such circumstances, of course I accept," replied Dion, rising.
"Well," said Meton, laughing, "then I command you, for I see you want
to. Only don't fall in love with her overmuch, or I shall be jealous
of my appointment and revoke it. One cup more with me, Captain; and
speak a good word for me with the Princess; for when this pup of a Jew,
Glaucon, is out of the way, I may myself forget that I am not young,
and play the suitor."
Early the following morning a tall sarissa and broad-brimmed hat
sentinelled the house of Glaucon. Another soldier was stationed just
within the doorway, while half a score lounged about the court, under
command of Captain Dion.
The news of Deborah's arrest produced excitement and some consternation
throughout the city; for while Glaucon was hated, even as he was
envied, for his ill-gotten successes, nearly all the renegade Jews
in Jerusalem were conscious of serving the King from the same greedy
motives, and feared for themselves now that the High Priest had turned
against one of his own kind.
"Who next?" was everywhere asked in whispers.
Captain Dion had his headquarters in the familiar guest room of the
house of Glaucon. He made known to Deborah the accusation against her.
"Deborah, I am here to protect as well as guard you," he protested.
"You must escape. Let me go with you, and if necessary die for you.
What is one soldier less to the armies of Antiochus? But a life poured
out in love's dear sake, ah! that would be like a goblet of wine
spilled upon an altar. Willingly would I thus serve you, and I believe
it would be a sacrifice pleasing to your God."
Deborah was a long time silent. At length she said:
"Dion, will you do anything, everything, for me?"
"Anything, everything," exclaimed the eager man. "Speak the word, and
I will go with you to the camp of the Jews, or I will flee with you to
the tents beyond Jordan. Anything, everything," cried he, abandoning
himself to the sway of his passion.
"There is nothing I can ask that you will not do? Are you sure? May I
test you again?"
"There is nothing, nothing that I will not do for you. I swear it. Test
me. I long to prove myself."
"Then, Dion, I command you to remain where you are. Do your duty as a
Greek soldier. Guard me if you may. Lead me forth to execution if you
must. Let General Gorgias have his will with me. I will not use your
love to swerve you a hair's breadth from your sworn duty to the service
you are engaged in."
"But, Deborah, how could I do this? You are falsely accused. Never was
there a more damnable lie. I myself can swear that you were not with
the Jews at the battle, for here I saw you."
Deborah turned away and paced the apartment; then quickly turned:
"Dion, you are my custodian. More than that, I make you my judge. You
shall hear my confession. I am not falsely accused. I am a Jewish spy.
I forbid that you swear to my innocence. Others may speak untruth, but
I will confess the facts before the tribunal rather than your lips
shall utter a word that is false."
Dion heard with amazement, not so much at her statement, for he had
more than suspected its truth, but at this new revelation of Deborah's
spirit. He exclaimed ardently:
"Then flee with me. Come! Come! This night we may be far away, among
your own people, among the tribesmen beyond Moab; or we will go to
Egypt, or to Greece, or to Rome. My life is yours, Deborah, whenever
and for whatever you may need me. Come! We can make safe flight."
"No, Dion. Though I may not say I love you, I esteem you too much as my
friend, as my father's friend, to let you sacrifice your good name for
me. Be true to your duty here, until God Himself give deliverance to
His people."
"There is no deliverance for your people, Deborah," cried the Greek in
despair. "The King's armies are already gathering for another ascent
from the plain of Sharon. Within three weeks they will sweep all this
land as the tide of the Great Sea covers the sands when the north wind
blows."
"Then, why will not you go with your men?" exclaimed Deborah,
haughtily. "It is better to fight on the high field than to be left
behind to guard a girl. Honor and fame are there--here nothing for a
great soul; nothing for one who has been trained in the court of Philip
and in the army of Perseus of Macedon."
Her attitude and voice were so dramatic that they might have turned
even Glaucon into a hero.
Then her tones became taunting: "Has Dion, son of General Agathocles,
no ambition? Are you like a new-born ant that has wings on its back,
but suffers them to be torn off by its sisters? Oh, Dion, if I were a
man, think you I would be content to play the cat at a mouse-hole, as
you are doing here, when the hosts are marching? Go! Let Meton send his
citadel cooks. They will be sufficient to watch me here. But not you,
Dion! Give up your custody, I beg you."
Dion caught her martial spirit, and exclaimed:
"Ah, if you were a man, Deborah, I would love you as your ancient
Prince Jonathan did the heroic David. Side by side we would fight even
for the Jews' cause. I swear it! But," he dropped his voice, and,
weighing every word with sincerity and decision, added, "Deborah, I
shall remain here with you, unless you will go with me."
Deborah's manner instantly changed. Her soldierly enthusiasm became the
transport of a prophetess.
"Dion, believe me, the host of Gorgias will never make the ascent to
Jerusalem. I know it. The sword of our God is in the hand of Judas. The
child Caleb sat yesterday looking toward the west, his eyes expanded
more largely than ever. 'What do you see?' I asked; for in such moods I
have found him to be gifted with a seer's sight.
"'I see,' said he, 'the armies of the Gentiles. They swarm like bees
toward the towers of Jerusalem. Now they are at Emmaus. But the sword
of the Lord and of Judas gleams through the air. It severs the flying
host. See! see! The bees have lost their guidance. They scatter
everywhere. They dissolve like smoke in the air!' I know not where the
child gets such visions, but more oft than otherwise they come true."
Dion shook his head.
"Deborah, if your God shall again work miracles this dream may become
true; but if Judas were in league with Egypt or Rome he could not
stop the advance of Gorgias. Any one of the three Greek armies can
destroy the Maccabæans, while the others sweep the land, as freely
as the breezes blow, from Samaria to the South Desert. I thank God
that neither you nor I shall be in the coming battle. Why, Deborah,
should I fight? How can I care whether Antiochus widen his empire, and
rob more lands to spend his revenues on new favorites, such as those
about us here? But I could fight for a cause, for something I esteemed
holy, as I do yours. I believe that you could touch me and transform
me into--into a Jew. One thing I vow: If Judas escape the oncoming
armies I will believe in Caleb's vision. I will offer your great
champion my sword at the gate of Jerusalem, and confess that he is the
long-promised Deliverer whom all people as well as yours believe will
some day come to restore right boundaries and exalt good men. This I
swear, and make your sweet lips witness. Let them call me traitor if I
keep not this vow."
"Did then," replied Deborah, "our blind seer dream again correctly?
He said that he saw Dion wearing a Jew's shirt beneath his Greek
toga. But, Dion, do not follow such impulses. Your career is that of
a soldier. In that occupation you may acquire renown, riches, power;
for I myself once heard one of your generals say that there was more
genius for command in Dion's head than in the whole war councils of the
King. Only be as just as you are brave--such men are needed everywhere.
But alas! too well I know that, unless God helps, one will find only
poverty and suffering and death among the Jews. Our reward is not here,
but in that unknown land where we believe our fathers who have fallen
asleep wake and walk. Without that sure faith, Dion, you must not
become a Jew. But we must part. Call me when the swordsman or jailer is
ready--and I will forgive you."
She retired into her apartment.
XXIX
A RAID
Between the conflict of his own thoughts and Glaucon's outbursts of
rage at the indignity cast upon his house, the day passed drearily for
Captain Dion. But the night brought new excitement.
The narrowness of the streets made them dark almost as soon as the
glints of the setting sun had climbed above the parapets and vanished
into the upper air. No lamps were now burning, as in peaceful times, at
the doorways of the houses. Upon the city walls and at the great gates
loomed the outlines of the sentinels, the click of whose sarissas,
brought to the ground at each turn on their beats, alone broke the
stillness. The streets were deserted, except as here and there a light
blinked through the opening door of some low resort, out of which
revellers stumbled into the night; or as some thief, with bare and
noiseless feet, evaded a house guard who was sleeping before the gate
of an official or protected inhabitant.
It was about the sixth hour when three shadows, like so many
condensations of the night itself, moved up the Street of David from
the direction of the Temple. In a moment as many more followed. Others
came stealthily out of the alleys, and appeared suddenly in the main
street, as if they were exhalations from the pools of water between the
great stones of the pavement. If one had owl's eyes one might have
detected more of these moving patches of darkness, some taking covert
behind the projecting lattice-work of the bazaar windows, or within the
screening lintels of the doorways. At first they seemed like common
night waifs seeking places to sleep; but as sticks in a whirlpool make
each its own gyrations, then float out through a common channel, so all
these men drifted toward the house of Glaucon.
The sentinel stationed there observed one such shadow near him, and
challenged it. While engaged in attempting to unravel what he thought
were the comer's drunken accents into intelligible words, a grip from
behind was upon his throat, and before he could utter an outcry a short
sword had entered his body.
A rap on the door brought the challenge, to which the Greek watch-word
"Avenge Bethhoron" was given. The cross-bar had scarcely lifted when
in poured a score of men. The door-keeper fell, and in a few moments
all the Greek guard were silent in their blood, except Captain Dion
who, standing at vantage upon the platform of the room leading from the
court, by splendid sword-play held off his assailants. The leader of
the attacking party, after watching for a moment the uneven fight, laid
his sword across the swords of the men.
"Back, men! I will deal with this fellow."
The speaker was a short but powerfully built man. His head was
protected by a helmet of thick leather, which was in keeping with the
black, coarse, chain-knit, iron corsage that covered his upper person.
His form was as compact and as lithe as that of a leopard, and his
pose that of equal alertness. Without for an instant letting his sword
drop from its position for thrust, and holding Dion at guard as the
weapon seemed to search his body for a vulnerable point, the man spoke:
"You are in command here?"
"When I had any one to command," replied Dion, glancing at the dead
bodies lying about the court. "But who are you?"
"No matter who," replied the invader; "I demand the person of the
daughter of Elkiah."
"My life is forfeit for her," replied Dion. "Come on."
His challenge was not accepted by his antagonist, who, holding his
weapon in guard, asked, "Your name, gallant Greek?"
"Captain Dion, at your service, sir. Come on."
The man lowered his sword.
"Retire, men. Captain Dion, a word with you."
"Tell me first by whose authority you have entered here," asked Dion.
"By the authority of the God of Israel, and Judas, son of Mattathias,
we came. And now, as you can see, since your comrades are dead, we
remain here by authority of our own swords. Twenty to one is scarcely
fair play, and we have that vantage of you. Yield!"
Captain Dion was not more persuaded by the fighting odds against him
than he was led by certain other considerations to give up the fight.
He at once replied:
"I yield upon one condition--that no harm shall come to the lady
Deborah."
"Our purposes seem to be one," replied the stranger. "Is the name of
Jonathan, brother of Judas, sufficient guarantee for her safety?"
"Jonathan!" ejaculated Dion. "And yet your entrance in spite of our
guards might have made me suspect one surnamed 'The Wily.' Have you
Maccabæans taken the city?"
"It is enough that we have taken this house, and that you are our
prisoner. Will you deliver the woman to us, or shall we take her out
over your body? The choice is yours."
"I am a Greek soldier," said Dion. "My life will be forfeit by our
own rules if I yield. My honor will at least be sustained if I fall
guarding my charge."
He struck the attitude of defense.
"I had rather fall beneath the hands of twenty foemen, than be led out
to die like a dog by my own people. Come on! You have my answer."
Jonathan did not move.
"Guard yourself, then!" said Dion, advancing. Jonathan made no sign of
self-defense.
Dion lowered his sword. "I cannot kill a man who will not fight."
"Plainly not. You are not a soldier of that sort, and thus are unlike
your fellow Greeks," said the Maccabæan.
"Do not taunt me," was the reply. "I believe that the daughter of
Elkiah will be safer with Jonathan than with myself. For her sake I
yield."
He presented his weapon.
"Not so, Captain Dion," replied the Jew. "Keep your sword. You may need
it to defend yourself from others. Now lead me to the lady Deborah. I
respect her too highly to invade her privacy without heralding by her
appointed guardian. Use your sword on me, Captain Dion, if I force her
to do aught against her will. We two will go alone."
Jonathan bade his men retire.
The frightened servants had hidden away at the first noise of the
encounter; but as the two men approached Deborah's apartment their way
was blocked by old Huldah, who stood with arms akimbo, and behind her
Ephraim.
"The lady Deborah is ill, and no one can see her," cried Huldah, as
valiantly as if Ephraim were a whole battalion supporting her.
"Here is a military exigency which I fear the tactics of neither Greek
nor Jew is equal to," laughed Jonathan. "We should have brought up our
battering rams."
It is difficult to surmise what would have been the issue of this
impending collision between a noted warrior and the puissant Huldah,
had not little Caleb appeared at the instant the battle was about to be
joined. Recognizing the voice of his friend of the Rocks, he ran to him
with a delighted cry:
"Jonathan! Jonathan!"
"My child!" cried the Maccabæan with equal eagerness, as he caught the
lad to his arms. "And Deborah, where is she?"
"Why, Deborah is gone two hours since," exclaimed the child. "She is
now far away as Mizpah, or maybe Bethel. But, Jonathan, have we taken
the city yet? And was Gorgias killed as I saw in my dream?"
"The Lord grant that your dream may be as that of Gideon's soldiers
the night before the destruction of the Philistines, when a barley cake
overturned a tent," said Jonathan, kissing the blind eyes. "Deborah
is gone? Where then, Captain Dion, is your boasted protection of this
woman, whom you say you were ordered to guard? If she could go and come
without your permission, why might not others have captured her? It is
well that I, a Jew, have been ordered to relieve guard here to-night,
since you, a Greek, have not kept it."
"Your words are deserved," replied Dion, bewildered by Caleb's news. "I
cannot account for it. Deborah has not passed out by the court gateway
into the street, that I can swear. Nor do I think she has flown through
the air."
"For aught you know, Sir Greek, she may have done so. Remember that you
are in the Jews' land. Here you must be prepared to believe such things
as were never dreamed of by your people. This is, as you have doubtless
heard, a land of miracles. Every hill and cave has a story, as true as
that Deborah has outwitted your senses. But pardon my mirth, Captain. I
see that your head sits lightly on your shoulders for having let your
bird break cage, and I suggest that, if you do not care to submit your
neck to the whim of your superior officer, you go with us. I doubt
not we can put you again in charge of your fair captive, or at least
where you will risk nothing if you avow that she escaped with your
connivance. I think, Captain, that you will have to go with us. Come."
Captain Dion put forth his hands.