Saul of Tarsus: A Tale of the Early Christians

by Elizabeth Miller

  CHAPTER VII

  THE BONDMAN OF HATE

  In a city like Ptolemais, where many pagans lived extravagantly andmany Jews lived thriftily, there were, as naturally follows, manymoney-lenders among the sons of Abraham.

  "Seek them all," was Agrippa's charge, "but Peter, the usurer. Him,thou hadst better avoid."

  The young Essene laid aside the prince's dress, with its embroidery ofprecious metal, and, getting into a simpler garment affected by thestewards to men of rank, went out into the city to borrow twentythousand drachmae.

  He did not get the twenty thousand drachmae, but he found, instead, thatHerod Agrippa was the most notorious bankrupt in the world. Being aJew and by heritage thrifty, the discovery shook him in his respect forthe prince, but at the same time a resolution shaped itself in himagainst the usurers. But, on a certain day, he returned to the littlehouse in the suburbs of the city to report that he had been placidlyrefused by every money-lending Jew or Gentile, except Peter, in theseaport.

  But he delivered his tidings unmoved.

  "Be of hope," he said to Cypros, whose head drooped at the news; "thereare many untried ways."

  He went again into the city, and visited the khans. There might benew-comers who were money-lenders in other cities.

  There were such as guests in Ptolemais, but from their lips he learnedthat Agrippa was black-listed from the Adriatic to the Euphrates; butMarsyas did not return to the house in the suburbs that night. Theweight of his obligation was too heavy to endure the added burden whichthe sight of Agrippa's suspense had become.

  He went to the rabbis of Ptolemais; they told him that they were notmoney-lenders. He applied to the prefect of the city, who laughed athim. Hoping that the name of Agrippa as a bankrupt had not penetratedinto the fields he journeyed into the country-side of Syria and triedan oil-merchant, a rustic, rich and unlettered. But the oil-merchantcame up to Ptolemais and made inquiry, shrugged his shoulders, gloweredat Marsyas and went back to his groves.

  An Egyptian seller of purple landed at Ptolemais from Alexandria. Thename of the city of hope attracted Marsyas and he met the merchant atthe wharves. But the seller of purple had been to Rome and the topmostname on his list of debtors was Herod Agrippa.

  At the end of three days, Marsyas returned to the house in the suburbsto assure the prince that he had not deserted and went again on hissearch.

  His invariable failures began to teach him a certain shrewdness. Hediscovered early that Essenic frankness would not serve his ends. Hefound that men were approachable through certain channels; that it wasbetter to speak advisedly than frankly; to lay plans, rather than towait on events; to use devices rather than persuasion. These thingsadmitted, he discovered that he had unconsciously subordinated them tohis use. Though momentarily alarmed, he did not hate himself as heshould. On the other hand, it was pleasurable to lay siege to men andtry them at their own scheming.

  At night in a dutiful effort to cleanse himself of the day'saccumulation of worldliness, he went to the open proseuchae, where inthe dark of the great out-of-doors, he was least likely to be noticed,to comfort himself with stolen worship, stolen profit from the Law.But the Law was not tender to those who lived as Stephen lived, anddied as Stephen died. Not in all that great and holy scroll which theReader read was there compassion for the blasphemer. Also, he heard ofthe great plague of persecution which Saul had loosed upon theNazarenes in Jerusalem and how the Pharisee had become a mighty manbefore the Council, and an awe and a terror to the congregation. So hecame away from the proseuchae, not only unhelped but harmed, embittered,enraged, alienated from his faith, and hungering for vengeance.

  By day, he walked through the commercial districts of Ptolemais andpushed his almost hopeless search with an energy that did not flag atcontinued failure. He knew that if he obtained the twenty thousanddrachmae, he bound Agrippa the surer to his oath of allegiance to thecause against Saul. Despair, therefore, was a banished and forbiddenthing.

  His plans, however, had been tried and proved fruitless. Typically asoldier of fortune, he was relying upon the exigencies of chance.

  Ptolemais was a normal town, with large interest and pleasures, and thefair day was too fleeting for one to stop and take heed of another.Passers pushed and hurried him when he came upon those more busy thanhe. Sailors, bronzed as Tatars, were probably the sole loiterersbesides the inevitable oriental feature, the sidewalk mendicant.

  So it was that on a certain day when Marsyas overtook a lectica in thestreet, the old man within complained aloud and had no audience, excepthis plodding bearers, or the attention of a glance, or a slackened stepnow and again among the citizens.

  "They rob me!" he was crying when Marsyas came up with him.

  The young man turned quickly; the declaration was alarming. His eyesencountered the face of Peter, the usurer, a stout, gray old Jew, inthe apparel of a Sadducee.

  Seeing that he had won the young man's notice the old usurer seized theopportunity to enlarge.

  "They ruin me!" he cried.

  Marsyas bowed gravely. "Thy pardon, sir," he said. "May I be ofservice?"

  "They sap my life!" the old man continued more violently, as if theyoung man's question had excited him. "They take, and demand more;they waste, and must be replenished! I drop into the grave and therewill be nothing left to buy a tomb to receive me!"

  The words were directed to Marsyas, and the young man having haltedcould not go on without awkwardness.

  "I pray thee," he urged, "tell me who plagues thee thus."

  "The tradesmen! Because I am wealthy, they augment their hire; becauseI must buy, they increase their price; they hold necessities out of myreach! It is a conspiracy between them because I am of lowly birth,and I go from one to another and find no relief! Behold!" He shookout a shawl which had been folded across his knees. "I must have it toprotect me against the cold. It is inferior; it is scant; yet it costme fifteen pieces of silver!"

  Marsyas glanced at the mantle; even with his little knowledge offabrics it appeared not worth its price.

  "Thou hast servants, good sir, and camels," he said, drawn intosuggestion in spite of himself. "Do I overstep my privilege to suggestthat thou mayest send to Anthedon or to Caesarea and buy in othercities?"

  "But the hire--the hire! And how should I know that the knavery doesnot extend to Anthedon and Caesarea?"

  "Then," said Marsyas, "establish thine own booths here and undersellthe robbers."

  There was silence; the small eyes of the old man narrowed and ignited.

  "A just punishment," he muttered. "A proper punishment!"

  "Or this," Marsyas continued, interested in his own conspiracy. "Thousayest they oppress thee because thou art a lowly man! They arefoolish. Display them thy power and punish them. Thou art a greatusurer; powerful families here are in thy debt. How strong a hand thouholdest over them! What canst thou not compel them to do! Nay, goodsir; to me, it seemeth thou hast the whip-hand over these tradesmen!"

  The old man rubbed his hands. "An engaging picture," he said. "Butunless I haste, they will ruin me yet!"

  Marsyas shook his head. "Not if the tales of thy famous wealth betrue."

  The lectica had moved along beside him and he waited now to bedismissed; but, contrary to custom of that rank which is privileged tocommand, the old man waited for Marsyas to take his leave.

  "Methinks," he began, "I have seen thee--"

  "Doubtless," Marsyas interrupted hastily. "I am a steward here inPtolemais. But I have an errand here, good sir; by thy leave, I shalldepart."

  The old man made a motion of assent, but he followed the young Essenewith a thoughtful eye.

  "If I am to know the world's way," Marsyas said to himself, "I can useit, if need be."

  He did not visit another usurer, but on the following day went to thoseplaces likely to be the haunts of Peter. When, presently, hediscovered the old man near a fountain, Marsyas did not attempt tocatch his eye. But o
ne of Peter's servants touched him on the arm andtold him that the master beckoned, and he hastened to the old man'sside.

  "Who is thy master?" Peter asked.

  Marsyas winced, but restrained a declaration of his free-born state.

  "A Roman citizen who is preparing to return to Italy."

  "A Roman!" Peter repeated. "But thou art a Jew, or the blood of therace in thee lies."

  "A Jew without taint of other blood in all the line."

  "Art satisfied with thy service--serving a Roman?" was the demand.

  "None has a better lord!" replied Marsyas quietly, but with an inwarddelight in leading the old man on.

  "But it should be more lawful for thee to serve a Jew," Peter declared."A Roman's slave, a slave for ever; a Jew's slave, a slave but sixyears--"

  Marsyas could rest no longer under the intimation of bondage.

  "Good sir, I am not a slave."

  "Ho! a hireling."

  "No; a free man, unattached and serving for love."

  Peter scratched his head. "For love only? Then why not come and be mysteward for wages?"

  "Thou canst not pay my price," he said with meaning.

  The old man lifted his withered chin.

  "Thy price!" he repeated haughtily. "And pray, sirrah, what is thyprice?"

  A figurative answer to add to his first sententious remark was onMarsyas' lips, but he halted suddenly, and a little pallor came intohis face.

  "On another day, I shall tell thee," he said after a silence, and theold man impatiently dismissed him.

  Marsyas turned away from the heart of the city and went straight to thehouse in the suburbs.

  He found Agrippa stretched on a couch where the air entered through thewest lattice, and the place otherwise solitary. The princess and thechildren with the servants had gone into the city.

  Marsyas came uncalled to Agrippa's side, and the prince noted thechange on the young man's face. He looked expectant.

  "My lord," Marsyas said, "thou didst say to me several days ago thatthou didst hate a vower of vows. Yet no man is chafed by a vow excepthim who finds it hard to keep. Wherefore, I pray thee, for theprospering of the cause and mine, assure me once more of thy goodintent toward Judea."

  The Herod raised his fine brows.

  "How now, Marsyas? Has the knowledge that I am a Herod been slanderingme to you?"

  "Nay, my lord; thou hast won me; and I shall not stop at sacrifice forthy cause, which is mine."

  "What canst thou do, my Marsyas?"

  "Get thee money."

  "I give thee my word, Marsyas. It has been sorely battered dodgingdebts, yet it is still intact enough to contain mine honor. I givethee my word."

  Marsyas lingered with an averted face, which Agrippa tried in vain tounderstand. He added nothing to emphasize his avowal; perhaps herealized at that moment, more keenly than ever afterward, how much aman wants to be believed.

  Presently the young man spoke in another tone.

  "Who is this Peter, that I may not ask him for a loan?"

  "I owe him a talent already," Agrippa answered with a lazy smile,"which he advanced to me while he was yet my mother's slave."

  "Then thou knowest him! How--how is he favored in disposition?"

  "How is Peter favored? Are slaves favored? Nay, they are temperedlike asses, cattle and apes--like beasts. Wherefore, this Peter isvoracious, balky, amiable enough if thou yieldest him provender--notbad, but, like any donkey, could be better."

  Marsyas' eyes fell again; it seemed that he hesitated at his nextquestion, as though upon its answer turned a matter of great moment.

  "Art thou in all truth assured that this Alexandrian will lend theemoney?" he asked presently, beset by the possibility of doubt.

  Agrippa laughed outright. "Jove, but this questioning hath a familiarring! Surely thou wast sired of a money-lender, Marsyas, else hisinquiries would not arise so naturally to thy lips! Will theAlexandrian lend? Of a surety! And even if not, then will my mother'sfriend, the noble Antonia, Caesar's sister-in-law. If Caesar had notbeen so precipitate and hastened me out of Rome, I should have borrowedthe sum of her ten years ago. I have not borrowed of the Alexandrianere this because I had not the money to carry me thither."

  After a pause, Agrippa anticipated a further question and continued.

  "The Alexandrian is Alexander Lysimachus, the noblest Jew a generationhath produced. Even Rome, that hath such little use for our blood,waives its ancient judgment against Lysimachus. He is alabarch of theJews in Alexandria, able as a Roman, just as a Jew, refined as a Greek,versatile as an Alexandrian. I saw him four years ago, here, inJerusalem, when he brought his wife's remains to bury them on sacredsoil. He had with him two sons, one a man, grown, with his father'sgenius, but without his father's soul; the other a handsome lad ofundeveloped character, and a daughter, a veritable sprite for beauty,and a sibyl for wits. I was afraid of her; I, a Herod and a marriedman, turning forty, was afraid of her! But get me the twenty thousanddrachmae, Marsyas, and thou shall see her--_Hercle_--a thousand pardons!I forgot that thou art an Essene!"

  Marsyas stood silent once more, and Agrippa waited.

  "And yet one other thing, my lord," the Essene said finally. "I servethee no less for love, because I serve thee also for a purpose. Thouwilt not forget to serve me, when thou comest to thine own?"

  "I give thee again my much misused word, Marsyas. Believe me, thouhast forced more truths out of me than any ever achieved before.Cypros will make thee her inquisitor when next she suspects me ofwarmth toward a maiden!"

  Marsyas lifted the prince's hand and pressed it to his lips. Withoutfurther word, he went out of the chamber and returned to the city.

  He sought out the counting-room of Peter the usurer, and found within acommotion and a gathered crowd. The old man himself stood in asteward's place behind a grating of bronze, with lists and coffersabout him. Without stood a brown woman, in a strange dresssufficiently rough to establish her state of servitude, and she bore inher hands a sheep-skin bag that seemed to be filled with coins.

  About her was a group of men of nationalities so diverse and soevidently perplexed that Marsyas immediately surmised that they hadbeen summoned as interpreters for a stranger whom they could notunderstand.

  The brown woman was passive: the usurer behind his grating in such astate of great excitement and anxiety that moisture stood out on hiswrinkled forehead. His eyes were on the sheep-skin bag; evidently thebrown woman was bringing him money, and his fear that the treasurewould escape made the old man desperate.

  "Have ye forgotten your mother-tongues?" he fumed at the polyglotassembly, "or are ye base-born Syrians boasting a nationality that yecan not prove? Hold! Let her not go forth, good citizens; doubtlessshe hath come from a foreign debtor to repay me! Close the doorswithout!"

  Marsyas pressed through the crowd to the grating, and the old mandiscovered him.

  "Hither, hither, my friend," he exclaimed. "See if thou canst tellwhat manner of stranger we have here."

  The young Essene had been examining the woman; with a quick glance,now, he inspected her face. Dark the complexion, the eyes olive-greenas chrysolite, mysterious and hypnotic; the features regular as anEgyptian's, but stronger and more beautiful; the physique refined, yethardy. The mystic air of the Ganges breathed from her scented shawl.The young man's training in languages was not overtaxed.

  "What is thy will?" he asked in the tongue of the Brahmins.

  "To exchange Hindu money for Roman coin," was the instant reply.

  Marsyas turned to Peter.

  "This is an Indian woman," he explained. "She wishes to exchange coinof her country for Roman money."

  "Good!" the old man cried, rubbing his hands. "We shall oblige her.Foreign coins are so much bullion; yet, we pay only its face value, inRoman moneys! Good! I shall melt it, and deliver it to the Romanmint! Good! But--but how shall I know one of these outlandish coinsfrom another?"

  "I
can tell you," Marsyas answered.

  The assembled group drifted out of the counting-room and the usurer,sighing his delight, opened a gate and bade Marsyas and the Hindu womancome into the apartment behind the screen. There the exchange wasmade, and the old usurer, trusting to the Hindu's ignorance of thelanguage, permitted no moment to pass without comment on his profit.

  Presently, Marsyas turned to the woman.

  "You lose money by this traffic," he said deliberately.

  "Rest thee, brother," was the calm reply, "I know it. Yet I must haveRoman coin to carry me to Egypt."

  Marsyas glanced at her apparel. In spite of its humble appearance, itwas the owner of this treasure, that dwelt within it.

  The exchange was made, amounting to something over twenty thousanddrachmae. Marsyas, with wistful eyes, saw her put the treasure away inthe sheepskin bag. He arose as she arose, and the two were conductedout by Peter.

  Without, it had grown dark. The woman had made no effort to hide thenature of her burden. She made an almost haughty gesture of farewellto Marsyas.

  "I shall serve thee, perchance, one day," she said and passed out.

  Marsyas followed her. At the threshold, he wavered and stepping intothe street stopped.

  She made a small, frail, dusky apparition, under the black shadows ofthe bulky buildings of Ptolemais--a profitable victim for somelight-footed highwayman, less sorely in need of money than he. But sheevidently felt no fear.

  Then, he turned and went back into the counting-room.

  Peter was behind his grating.

  "Who and what art thou?" the usurer demanded, with no little admirationin his tone.

  "I am," Marsyas answered, "a doctor of Laws, a master of languages, adoctor of medicines, a scholar of the College at Jerusalem, a postulantEssene."

  The reply was intentionally full.

  "And a steward for love, only!"

  "Only for a time. When I can repay thee a debt long standing, I shallcease to serve at all."

  The usurer's eyes brightened. "A debt," he repeated softly. "Is thismy fortunate day? Which of the bankrupts who owe me has beenreplenished?"

  "Not yet, the one of whom I speak," Marsyas replied. "Hast thou heardof Herod Agrippa?"

  "Herod Agrippa! Evil day that he borrowed a talent of me, never toreturn it!"

  "Perchance, some day--"

  "Never! Whosoever lends him money pitches it into the sea!"

  "Yet the sea hath given up its treasure, at times. But let me troublethee with a question. What price did the costliest slave in thyknowledge command?"

  "What price? A slave? In Rome? Nay, then, let me think. A Georgianfemale captive of much beauty was sold to Sejanus once for six hundredthousand drachmae--"

  "I speak of serving-men," Marsyas interrupted.

  "Nay, then: Caesar owns a physician worth eighty thousand drachmae."

  "Hath he cured any in Caesar's house of poisoning; can he speak manylanguages; is he also a doctor of Laws and a good Jew?"

  The usurer shook his head.

  "What price, then, should I he worth to Caesar?" Marsyas demanded.

  "Sell not thyself to Caesar," Peter cried, flinging up his hands. "Itis forbidden!"

  "I shall not sell myself," Marsyas said. "I have come only to find howto value my services."

  "Whom dost thou serve?" the old man demanded. Marsyas was not ready todisclose his identity.

  "A Roman. Peace and the continuance of good fortune be thine."

  He bowed and passed out of the counting-room.

  The usurer stood a moment, then summoned his servants, and, gettinghimself into street dress, hastened to follow the young man. Marsyasturned his steps toward the house in the suburbs.

  There were several torches about the painted gate in the wall and thelight shone on a group alighting from a curricle. Cypros and herchildren had returned from the city, and Agrippa had come forth toreceive them. Marsyas joined the group and Peter's lectica was borneup to the circle of radiance under the torches. The old man's eyesfilled with wrath when he recognized Agrippa. He stood up and surveyedhim with scorn.

  "A Roman!" he scoffed. "A Roman, only to add the vices of the race tothe meanness of a Herod! Back to my house, slaves! We have takenprofitless pains!"

  Agrippa's anger leaped into his face and Marsyas pursued and overtookthe litter.

  "Thy pardon, sir," he began.

  "I have a right to attach thee for the talent thy master owes me,"Peter stormed.

  "Peace, good sir! I am not a slave."

  Peter chewed his mustache impotently, but the young Essene dropped hisGreek and spoke in Hebrew, the language of the synagogue, the truebadge of Judaism.

  "Perchance we may bargain together. Wouldst have me for hire?"

  Peter smoldered in sulky silence.

  "I can not serve longer without compensation," Marsyas pursued.

  "What sum in hire?" Peter demanded.

  "Twenty thousand drachmae--"

  Peter blazed, but Marsyas stopped his invective with a motion.

  "Nay, peace! I have not finished. Twenty thousand drachmae in loan toAgrippa, and I will serve thee gratis till he redeems me by paying theprincipal and the talent he owes."

  The usurer, with a snort, abruptly ordered the slaves to proceed.

  The next day, Marsyas, loitering on purpose near the usurer's, wasapproached by a servant and sent into the presence of Peter.

  "Hath the bankrupt any hopes?" the money-lender demanded withoutpreliminary.

  "He goes to Alexandria, for money, and thence to imperial favor inRome. There is Antonia who will aid him, as thou knowest. Unless thouhelpest him to reach either of these two places, he is of a suretybankrupt; wherefore he can never pay thee the talent or even theinterest."

  Peter dismissed him moodily and Marsyas returned to the prince. Butthe next day Peter appeared at Agrippa's door and was conducted to theprince's presence, where Cypros sat with him and Marsyas waited. Theold man made no greeting.

  "Thou knowest me, Agrippa," he began at once. "For thy mother's sake,whose happy slave I was, I will take thine Essene at his terms, lessthe interest on the twenty thousand drachmae."

  "My Essene at his terms," Agrippa repeated in perplexity. But Marsyas,with a movement of command, broke in.

  "The bargain is at first hand between thee and me, good sir," he saidto Peter. "The second contract shall be between the prince and myself.Bring the money here at sunset and the writings shall be ready forthee."

  "Twenty thousand drachmae, less mine interest on the sum," Peterinsisted.

  "Less thine interest," Marsyas assented, and Peter went out.

  Agrippa got upon his feet and gazed gravely at Marsyas.

  "What is this?" he asked.

  "I have bound thee to my cause," the young man answered.

  "How? Nay, answer me, Marsyas. What hast thou done?" the princeurged, impelled by affection as well as wonder.

  "I have bought my revenge, and have paid for it with a season ofbondage."

  "Hast thou given thyself in hostage for us?" Cypros cried, springing up.

  Marsyas, without reply, moved to leave the room. But Agrippa plantedhimself in the young man's way, and Cypros in tears slipped down on herknees at his side, and, raising his hand, kissed it.

  "We shall not forget," she whispered to him.

  "I shall not know peace till I have redeemed thee," Agrippa declaredwith misted eyes.

  Great haste to get away from the overwhelmed pair seized the Essene.Trembling he shook off their hold and hurried out into the air.

  He had to quiet a great amazement in him at the thing he had plannedfor so many days to do. After a long agitated tramp in search ofcomposure, he began to see more clearly the results of his extreme act.He had fixed himself within reach of Vitellius and the Sanhedrim:unless the ill fortune of the luckless prince improved, he had boundhimself to servitude for a lifetime.

  But he drew his hand across hi
s troubled forehead and smiled grimly.He had made his first decisive step against Saul!