THE WARNING.
The bell which hung beside the porter's lodge jangled sharply, and the
porter, after first peering out to see who stood before the door,
promptly opened. "My master is within," he said, making his obeisance.
"I pray thee enter, reverend sir, thou wilt find my lord Annas upon the
terrace. He is expecting thee."
Without a word the newcomer strode past and disappeared within. The
porter stared after his retreating figure for a moment in silence, then
he shook his head slowly. "His look is dark and threatening," he
muttered, "it bodes no good for them that believe, when at night and at
morning and also at midday those that hate us gather themselves in
secret conclave. There be mischiefs brewing, I fear me; a dark cloud
which will break ere long and bring swift destruction upon the
church--unless the Lord send help, and that right speedily."
"And what hast thou found to grumble about now, Simon?" said a cheery
voice at his elbow.
The old man looked up sharply. "Ah, Iddo, didst thou hear me? I am
indeed falling into indiscreet habits in my solitude when I prate aloud
of my fears. Had it been Aaron now, in thy stead--but why do I say so?
I am not ashamed to own that I believe on the Nazarene."
"Thou art in good company, assuredly," said the young man, "though an
open avowal of thy faith would doubtless cost thee thy snug quarters.
The lord of this house is not likely to be of them which are daily being
added to the church. Hast thou heard that of the priests themselves we
are continually gaining in great numbers? 'Tis wonderful; all Jerusalem
will be with us in another year; as for these worldly old hypocrites,
let them be; they will die in their sins and the world will be better
without them. Even the Master had no good word for such. Whited
sepulchres called he them, and pronounced against them the woes which
they assuredly have merited. Nothing can stand against us now, for the
Lord is with us!"
But Simon shook his head. "Thou art young, Iddo," he said querulously,
"and hast much to learn. There is a storm at hand and it will blow no
good to the church; I have said it, and thou wilt see. Do I not stand
at this gate and see them that go in and out? I hear also many
things--for the Lord hath preserved my ears, and they that enter mind me
no more than yonder stone bench--listen!" and the old man held up a
shaking hand. "Yesterday I admitted two--four--five of them that be rich
and mighty--I will not name them. They remained within, three whole
hours by the shadow on yonder dial, then they came out together.
"''Tis a goodly thought of Annas to first put out of the way the
pestilential Greek,' quoth one, 'the witnesses will not be hard to
find.'
"'I trow not,' said another with a laugh, 'words are cheap both for the
buying and selling; as for the fellow Stephen, he doeth more mischief
among the common people in a week than the slow-witted hinds whom they
call apostles could accomplish in a month.'"
"Stephen," cried Iddo, aghast.
"Hist, boy! Now thou seest that though I am old--and as thou hast said,
given to over-much foreboding--there is a deadly mischief on foot."
"The Lord will smite them if they lay but a finger on Stephen,"
exclaimed the young man indignantly. "'Tis such as he that the Lord's
flock hath need of; daily doth he work great miracles of healing, and
his voice is heard in every synagogue persuading men to believe on Jesus
the Christ. Men listen gladly; and to listen is to be convinced of the
truth."
"Ah, boy! 'tis because of these very things that they hate him; were he
less than he is, they would not lay a finger on him."
"But surely God will protect him!"
"God spared not his own son," said the old man solemnly. "He suffered
him to be tortured and to be slain at the hands of these very men; and
the servant is not greater than his Lord."
The other was silent for a time; all the brightness had faded out from
his face. "Who is within now?" he said, at length.
"Saul of Tarsus," replied Simon, briefly.
"I shall warn them of the household of John of this thou hast told me?"
"Assuredly, but let it not be bruited abroad; there is nothing to be
gained by it, and perhaps much to be lost. If the young man Stephen--"
but the clang of the bell interrupted him, and he hastened to open.
"Enter, my lord, I pray thee. It is so, my lord Annas is within, and
with him the Rabbi Saul."
Iddo bowed with instinctive respect as the tall, gaunt figure swept by
him and disappeared adown the passageway. "He is no longer High
Priest," he said, in a half whisper, "and it perchance hath irked him to
resign the office."
"There are other reasons for his haggard look," said the old man sagely;
"but it is not for such as I to prate concerning the affairs of
Caiaphas. The Lord hath dealt with him, as he doth also deal with all
men; perchance that he may draw them to himself at the last."
"Nay; dost thou think then that it is possible for such as the murderers
of our Lord to be forgiven?"
"'Tis assuredly not for us to set limits upon the compassion and love of
the Father of our Lord Jesus--who also prayed for them in his agony. If
he can save me, he is able to save any one; for I know my own heart how
that it is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked."
"That is a true word, my Simon," said the young man, humbly. "No one
knoweth it better than I, who was ever prone to do evil as the sparks
fly upward.--I must away; if Stephen could but be persuaded to leave
Jerusalem----"
"'Twas what I would have said," broke in Simon, eagerly. "Let him
go--and at once. There is no need that he remain to fall into the net
which these are making ready for him. It may be that it was by the good
providence of God that I chanced to hear what I did." Then as he opened
the door that the young man might pass out, he whispered, "Let them all
beware of the Pharisee from Tarsus."
"'Tis a word of wisdom," said Iddo to himself, as he strode rapidly
away. "Yet would he dare molest us who walk orderly after the law? If
now we kept not the fasts, nor observed the solemn feasts, nor prayed at
the times of the morning and evening sacrifice--but all of these things
we observe and do. Yet have I heard Stephen proclaim in the synagogues
that there was now no further need for the priestly slaughter of flocks
and herds, because that Christ had given himself a sacrifice for the
sins--not only of the Jews--but for the sins of the whole world. Even
the apostles say not such things, it must be that he is over-bold--being
a Greek. Some one should speak to him of the matter."
Revolving these thoughts in his mind, the young man came at length into
the street where was the house of John the apostle. It was narrow, and
still, and hot; the feet of the few passers-by--mostly women passing to
and from the public fountains with their water-jars--making no noise in
the yellow dust. Iddo paused a moment with bent head; he smiled, and
his eyes sparkled with joy. "She is singing," he said aloud. And he
hurried forward faster than before--almost stumbling indeed in his haste
over some small brown object, which squatted silently in the hot
sunshine before the door which he sought.
"What is this?" he cried, looking down, and discovering that the
obstacle was none other than a small brown child; that there were, in
fact, three of them, a boy and a girl--and betwixt the two a baby,
smaller and browner than either.
"We be listening," said the girl solemnly, shaking the dark curls out of
her eyes and looking up at her questioner. "The baby hath gone to sleep
because he likes it; we come every day. Wilt thou sit down here? the
dust is soft, and the music is like angels singing."
Iddo smiled. "Thou art right, little one," he said; "'tis like the
voice of an angel."
"I lift up mine eyes to the hills.
Whence cometh my help?
My help is from Jehovah,
Maker of heaven and earth,"
chanted the melodious voice within, then it dropped to a pleading
cadence,
"May He not suffer thy foot to be moved!
May He not slumber that keepeth thee!
Behold, the Keeper of Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
Jehovah keep thee from all evil!
He will keep thy life.
Jehovah keep thy coming and going
Henceforth and for ever!"
The listener sighed involuntarily; then he stretched forth his hand and
laid it upon the bell--paying no heed to the solemn little voice at his
feet, "If thou dost pull the rope the singing will stop."
Almost immediately the door opened, and a sweet voice cried, "Ah, 'tis
thou, Iddo Ben Obed! Enter, I pray thee," then observing the young man's
serious face, she added, "What hath befallen thee, friend? thou art as
solemn as that great image in the desert which men call the sphinx."
"I have reason," answered Ben Obed, "as thou must hear presently."
"I must first speak to the little ones.--Enter, friend, thou wilt find
my brother within. Why didst thou not knock, little one?" she
continued, stooping to raise the sleeping child, "the sun is too hot for
the babe; it breedeth mischief at this season. Stay--I will give thee
some pomegranates, then must thou go home where it is cool. To-night if
thou wilt come and knock on the door thou shalt enter, then I will sing
to thee, and also tell thee a story of how the babe Jesus came through
the wilderness to the land of Egypt." And having kissed the smooth
brown cheeks in token of dismissal, she watched the two as they trudged
away down the street, the sleepy baby toddling between.
Ben Obed was already seated upon the stone bench in the cool shadow of
the house, talking in low tones to a young man of about his own age, who
with bent brows and serious air was paying him diligent heed.
"I can scarce believe that such talk is more than idle threatening," he
was saying. "Since the day that Gamaliel gave counsel in the Sanhedrim
that we be left in peace, there hath been no active persecution. They
must see by this time that the Lord is with us, therefore is the good
counsel of Gamaliel proven; surely there can be none amongst them bold
enough to fight against God. And this said I to Simon--or words of like
import. I reminded him also that we are well looked upon by all the
people, and how--being in all points disposed to keep the law--even the
priests are daily joining themselves to our numbers. But he hath a
different opinion; moreover, he bade me tell all of this household to
beware Saul of Tarsus."
"What danger is threatened?" asked Anat, anxiously.
Iddo Ben Obed raised his eyes to her face, and there was that in their
fiery gaze that brought the warm color to the maiden's cheek.
"Danger is threatened to Stephen," he said slowly, "though how great is
that danger we cannot tell."
The face of Anat grew deathly pale. "Tell me--" she said, breathlessly,
"all that thou hast heard."
Iddo dropped his eyes to the ground. "They will imprison him if he
continues to preach that the Christ is mightier than the law," he said
coldly. "What more I know not. 'Twill be best for him to leave
Jerusalem."
Anat turned swiftly and went away into the house.
That evening she told the three children the story which she had
promised them; and sang to them wild songs of the desert--vaguely
remembered from the days when she dwelt in Egypt; and afterward the
Psalm of the watchful Love, which she had sung in the morning. Then she
gave the little ones into the hand of their mother, and went softly up
to the housetop. A lonely figure stood by the parapet, looking away
toward the afterglow which burned in solemn splendor behind the
mountains. She hesitated for a moment, then went lightly forward.
"Hast thou heard," she said softly, "the evil tidings which the son of
Obed brought to this house to-day?"
"I have talked with John concerning it."
"And what said he? Surely he urged thee to flee the peril?" And the
girl's voice thrilled with passionate entreaty.
The young man turned. "Anat--beloved," he said softly, "I know all that
thou wouldst say; and there is much in my heart that I would fain say to
thee--only that the time is short. Already for me the daylight fades
and the night cometh when I can no more work for the Master, while for
thee there yet remaineth many years wherein to glorify his name; and
this shalt thou do, and in the doing find peace--the peace that passeth
understanding."
The girl had sunken to her knees beside him, her slender frame shaken
with a tempest of weeping; but a great calm fell upon her soul as
Stephen rested his hands upon her bowed head--his voice tremulous in
that sweetest of all benedictions: "The Lord bless thee, and keep thee:
the Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: the
Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace."