The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER XII

  DESOLATION

  Panting like a hunted hind, yet true to the generous blood that flowed inher veins, Mariamne recovered her courage even before her strength. Nosooner was the immediate danger passed, than she cast aside all thoughtsof personal safety, and only considered how she might still rescue the manshe loved. Familiar with the street in which she had taken refuge, as withevery other nook and corner of her native city--for the Jews permittedtheir women far more liberty than did their Eastern neighbours--shebethought her of taking a devious round in case she should be followed,and then returning by the way she had come, to her father's gardens. Itwas above all things important that Eleazar should not be made aware ofhis daughter's absence; and she calculated, not without reason, that thefatigues he had lately gone through, would ensure a few hours at least ofsound unbroken sleep. The domestics, too, of his household, worn out withwatching and hunger, were not likely to be aroused before morning; shehad, therefore, sufficient time before her to put her plan into execution.

  She reflected that it was impossible to approach her father's gardenunnoticed at this hour, save by the way she had taken in her flight. To gothrough his house from the street was not to be thought of, as theentrance was probably secured, and she could not gain admittance withoutgiving an explanation of her absence, and exciting the observation shemost wished to avoid. Then she fell to thinking on the paths she hadfollowed in her headlong flight, tracing them backward in her mind withthat clear feminine perception, which so nearly approaches instinct, andis so superior to the more logical sagacity of man. She knew she couldthread them step by step, to the marble basin of the fountain; and onceagain at that spot she felt as if her task would be half accomplished,instead of scarce begun. Doubtless the exertion of mind served to calm herrecent terrors, and to distract attention from the dangers of her presentsituation--alone in a strange house, with the streets full of such horrorsas those she had lately witnessed, and thronged by armed parties oflawless and desperate men.

  She had gathered her robes about her, and drawn her veil over her headpreparatory to emerging from her hiding-place, when she was driven back bythe sound of footsteps, and the clank of weapons, coming up the street. Tobe seen was to accept the certainty of insult, and to run the risk of ill-usage, and perhaps death. She shrank farther back, therefore, into thelower part of the house; and becoming more accustomed to the gloom, lookedanxiously about, to ascertain what further chance she had within forconcealment or escape.

  It was a low irregular building, of which the ground-floor seemed to havebeen used but as a space for passage to and from the upper apartments,and, perhaps, before the famine consumed them, as a shelter for beasts ofburden, and for cattle. Not a particle of their refuse, however, had beenleft on the dry earthen floor; and though a wooden manger was yetstanding, not a vestige remained of halter or tethering ropes, which hadbeen long since eaten in the scarcity of food.(20) A boarded staircase,fenced by carved wooden balustrades, led from this court to the upperchambers, which were carefully closed; but a glimmer of light proceedingfrom the chinks of an ill-fitting door at its head, denoted that the housewas not deserted. It was probably inhabited by some of the middle class ofcitizens; a rank of life that had suffered more than the higher, or eventhe lower during the siege--lacking the means of the one, and shrinkingfrom the desperate resources of the other.

  Mariamne, listening intently to every sound, was aware of a light steppassing to and fro, within the room, and perceived besides a savoury smellas of roasted flesh, which pervaded the whole house. She knew by the quietfootfall and the rustle of drapery, that it was a woman whose motions sheoverheard, and for an instant the desire crossed her mind to beg for amouthful of strengthening food, ere she departed on her way--a request shehad reason to believe would be refused with anger. She blushed as shethought how a morsel of bread was now grudged, even at her own father'sgate; and she remembered the time when scores of poor neighbours throngedit every morning for their daily meal; when sheep and oxen were slain androasted at a moment's notice, on the arrival of some chance guest with histrain of followers.

  "It is a judgment!" thought the girl, regarding the afflictions of herpeople in the light of her new faith. "It may be, we must be purified bysuffering, and so escape the final doom. Woe is me for my kindred and formy father's house! What am I, that I should not take my share in thesorrows of the rest?"

  Then in a pure and holy spirit of self-sacrifice, she turned wearily away,resolving rather to seek the enemy weak and fasting, than shift from herown shoulders one particle of the burden borne by her wretched fellow-citizens; and ere long the time came when she was thankful she had notpartaken, even in thought, of the food that was then being prepared.

  Seeking the street once more, she found, to her dismay, that the armedparty had halted immediately before the door. She was forced again toshrink back into the gloom of the lower court, and wait in fear andtrembling for the result. These, too, had been arrested before the houseby the smell of food. Wandering up and down the devoted city, such hungryand desperate men scrupled not to take with the strong hand anything ofwhich they had need. By gold and silver, and soft raiment, they set nowbut little store--of wine they could procure enough to inflame and maddenthem, but food was the one passionate desire of their senses. Besides hisown party, John of Gischala had now attached to his faction numbers of theSicarii--a band of paid assassins who had sprung up in the late troubles tomake a trade of murder--and had also seduced into his ranks such of theZealots as were weary of Eleazar's rigid though fervent patriotism,finding the anarchy within the walls produced by the siege more to theirtaste than the disciplined efforts of their chief to resist the enemy. Theparty that now prevented Mariamne's egress consisted of a few fiercepitiless spirits from these three factions, united in a common bond ofrecklessness and crime. It was no troop for a maiden to meet by night inthe house of a lone woman, or on the stones of a deserted street, and thegirl, trembling at the conversation she was forced to overhear, needed allher courage to seize the first opportunity for escape. The clang of theirarms made her heart leap, as they halted together at the door; but it wasless suggestive of evil and violence than their words.

  "I have it!" exclaimed one, striking his mailed hand against the post,with a blow that vibrated through the building. "Not a bloodhound ofMolossis hath a truer nose than mine, or hunts his game more steadily toits lair. I could bury my muzzle, I warrant ye, in the very entrails of myprey, had I but the chance. There is food here, comrades, I tell ye,cooking on purpose for us. 'Tis strange if we go fasting to the wall to-night!"

  "Well said, old dog!" laughed another voice. "Small scruple hast thou,Sosas, what the prey may be, so long as it hath but the blood in it. Comeon; up to the highest seat with thee! No doubt we are expected, though thedoors be closed and we meet with a cold welcome!"

  "Welcome!" repeated Sosas; "who talks of welcome? I bid ye all welcome,comrades. Take what you please, and call for more. Every man what he likesbest, be it sheep or lamb, or delicate young kid, or tender sweet-mouthedheifer. My guests ye are, and I bid you again walk up and welcome!"

  "'Twere strange to find a morsel of food here, too," interposed one of theband. "Say, Gyron, is not this the house thou and I have already strippedthese three times? By the beard of old Matthias, there was but half abarley-cake left when we made our last visit!"

  "True," replied Gyron, with a brutal laugh, "and the woman held on to itlike a wild-cat. I was forced to lend her a wipe over the wrist with mydagger, ere she let go, and then the she-wolf sucked her own blood fromthe wound, and shrieked out that we would not even leave her _that_. Wemight let her alone this time, I think, and go elsewhere!"

  "Go to!" interrupted Sosas. "Thou speakest like one for whom the banquetis spread at every street corner. Art turning tender, and delicate even asa weaned child, with that grizzled beard on thy chin? Go to! I say. Thesupper is getting cold. Follow me
!"

  With these words the last speaker entered the house, and proceeded toascend the staircase, followed by his comrades, who pushed and shoulderedeach other through the door with ribald jest and laughter, that made theirlisteners' blood run cold. Mariamne, in her retreat, was thus compelled toretire step by step before them to the top of the stairs, dreading everymoment that their eyes, gradually accustomed to the gloom, which wasrendered more obscure by the moonlight without, should perceive herfigure, and their relentless grasp seize upon her too surely for a prey.It was well for her that the stairs were very dark, and that her blackdress offered no contrast in colour to the wall against which she shrank.The door of the upper chamber opened outwards, and she hid herself closebehind it, hoping to escape when her pursuers had entered one by one. Toher dismay, however, she found that, with more of military caution thanmight have been expected, they had left a scout below to guard againstsurprise. Mariamne heard the unwilling sentinel growling and muttering hisdiscontent, as he paced to and fro on the floor beneath.

  Through the hinges of the open door, the upper apartment was plainlyvisible, even by the dim light of a solitary lamp that stood on the board,and threw its rays over the ghastly banquet there set forth. Sick, faint,and trembling with the great horror she beheld, Mariamne could not yetturn her eyes away. A gaunt grim woman was crouching at the table, holdingsomething with both hands to her mouth, and glaring sidelong at hervisitors, like a wild beast disturbed over its prey. Her grisly tresseswere knotted and tangled on her brow; dirt, misery, and hunger were inevery detail of her dress and person. The long lean arms and hands, withtheir knotted joints and fleshless fingers, like those of a skeleton, thesunken face, the sallow tight-drawn skin, through which the cheek-bonesseemed about to start, the prominent jaw, and shrivelled neck, denoted tooclearly the tortures she must have undergone in a protracted state offamine, bordering day by day upon starvation.

  And what was that ghastly morsel hanging from those parched thin lips?

  Mariamne could have shrieked aloud with mingled wrath and pity and dismay.Often had she seen a baby's tiny fingers pressed and mumbled in a mother'smouth, with doting downcast looks and gentle soothing murmurs and mutteredphrases, fond and foolish, meaningless to others, yet every precioussyllable a golden link of love between the woman and her child. But now,the red light of madness glared in the mother's eye; she was crouchingfierce and startled, like the wild wolf in its lair, and her teeth weregnashing in her accursed hunger over the white and dainty limbs of herlast-born child. Its little hand was in her mouth when the ruffiansentered, whose violence and excesses had brought this abomination ofdesolation upon her house. She looked up with scarce a trace of humanityleft in her blighted face.

  "You have food here, mother!" shouted Sosas, rushing in at the head of hiscomrades. "Savoury food, roasted flesh, dainty morsels. What! hast got nowelcome for thy friends? We have come to sup with thee unbidden, mother,for we know of old(21) the house of Hyssop is never ill-provided. Ay,Gyron there, watching down below, misled us sadly. His talk was but ofscanty barley-cakes and grudging welcome, while lo! here is a supper fitto set before the high-priest, and the mother gives a good example, thoughshe wastes no breath on words of welcome. Come on, comrades, I tell you;never wait to wash hands, but out with your knives, and fall to!"

  While he spoke, the ruffian stretched his brawny arm across the table, anddarted his long knife into the smoking dish. Mariamne behind the door, sawhim start, and shiver, and turn pale. The others looked on, horror-struck,with staring eyes fixed upon the board. One, the fiercest and strongest ofthe gang, wiped his brow, and sat down, sick and gasping, on the floor.Then the woman laughed out, and her laughter was terrible to hear.

  "I did it!" she cried, in loud, triumphant tones. "He was my own child, myfair, fat boy. If I had a hundred sons I would slay them all. All, I tellyou, and set them before you, that you might eat and rejoice, and departfull and merry from the lonely woman's house. I slew him at sundown, mymasters, when the Sabbath was past, and I roasted him with my own hands,for we were alone in the house, I and my boy. What! will ye not partake?Are you so delicate, ye men of war, that ye cannot eat the food whichkeeps life in a poor, weak woman like me? It is good food, it is wholesomefood, I tell ye, and I bid you hearty welcome. Eat your fill, my masters;spare not, I beseech you. But we will keep a portion for the child. Thechild!" she repeated, like one who speaks in a dream: "he must be hungryere now; it is past his bedtime, my masters, and I have not given him hissupper yet!"

  Then she looked on the dish once more, with a vacant, bewildered stare,rocking herself the while, and muttering in strange, unintelligiblewhispers, glancing from time to time stealthily at her guests, and thenupon the horrid fragment she held, which, as though fain to hide it, sheturned over and over in her gown. At length she broke out in another wildshriek of laughter, and laid her head down upon the table, hiding her facein her hands.

  Pale and horror-struck, with quiet steps, and heads averted from theboard, the gang departed one by one. Gyron, who was already wearied of hiswatch, met them on the stairs, to receive a whispered word or two fromSosas, with a muttered exclamation of dismay, and a frightful curse. Therest, who had seen what their comrade only heard, were speechless still,and Mariamne, listening to their clanking, measured tread as it traversedthe lower court and passed out into the street, heard it die away in thedistance, unbroken by a single exclamation even of disgust or surprise.The boldest of them dared not have stood another moment face to face withthe hideous thing from which he fled.

  Mariamne, too, waited not an instant after she had made sure that theywere gone. Not even her womanly pity for suffering could overcome herfeelings of horror at what she had so lately beheld. She seemed stifledwhile she remained under the roof where such a scene had been enacted; andwhile she panted to quit it, was more than ever determined to seek theRoman camp, and call in the assistance of the enemy. It was obvious evento her, girl as she was, that there was now no hope for Jerusalem withinthe walls. While her father's faction, and that of John, were neutralisingeach other's efforts for the common good--while to the pressure of famine,and the necessary evils of a siege, were added the horrors of rapine andviolence, and daily bloodshed, and all the worst features of civil war--itseemed that submission to the fiercest enemy would be a welcome refuge,that the rule of the sternest conqueror would be mild and merciful bycomparison.

  She remembered, too, much that Calchas had explained in the sacredwritings they had studied together, with the assistance of that Syrianscroll which proclaimed the good tidings of the new religion, elucidatingand corroborating the old. She had not forgotten the mystical menaces ofthe prophets, the fiery denunciations of some, the distinct statements ofothers--above all, the loving, merciful warning of the Master himself.Surely the doom had gone forth at length. Here, if anywhere, was thecarcass. Yonder, where she was going, was the gathering of the eagles. Wasnot she in her mission of to-night an instrument in the hands ofProvidence? A means for the fulfilment of prophecy? If she had feltpatriotic scruples before, they vanished now. If she had shrunk frombetraying her country, dishonouring her father, and disgracing her blood,all such considerations were as nothing now, compared to the hope ofbecoming a divine messenger, that, like the dove with its olive-branch,should bring back eventual peace and safety in its return. She had seento-night madness and leprosy stalking abroad in the streets. Within aJewish home she had seen a more awful sight even than these. It was in herpower, at least, to put an end to such horrors, and she doubted whetherthe task might not have been specially appointed her from heaven; but shenever asked herself the question if she would have been equally satisfiedof her celestial mission, had Esca not been lying under the wall of theTemple, bound and condemned to die with the light of to-morrow's sun.