Was I Right? Abridged Edition

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

  Meanwhile Mr. Stanley guided us to our hotel. We went back a different way, keeping outside the city until we reached the Jaffa Gate. Sir William and I walked first, and Mr. Stanley and Evelyn followed. Sir William was reading his guidebook, which he kept open in his hand and consulted as he walked along, and I had much time for thought. Once or twice I could not help overhearing the conversation which was going on behind me.

  "So you know Lord Moreton, Miss Trafford?" I heard Mr. Stanley say.

  "Yes, and papa knows him well, and he likes him very much," said Evelyn, laughing.

  "And you do not?" said Mr. Stanley.

  "Oh, I don't dislike him," said Evelyn; "only I think him stupid and uninteresting."

  I thought Sir William must have heard this remark, but if he heard it he took no notice of it, but appeared to be deep in his book.

  "Lord Moreton stupid? Lord Moreton uninteresting?" said Mr. Stanley. "Then excuse my saying, Miss Trafford, that if that is your opinion I am sure you do not know Lord Moreton. No one who really knew him would ever come to such a conclusion."

  Mr. Stanley had spoken rather firmly, and Evelyn said in an apologetic tone: "I'm sorry, Mr. Stanley. I see Lord Moreton is a friend of yours. I didn't realize you knew him at all."

  "Yes," he said, smiling, "we were college friends, and have been like brothers ever since. I think I may say that I know Lord Moreton better than anyone else knows him. And the more I know him, so much the more I respect him."

  "He always seems to be so shy and awkward," said Evelyn.

  "Yes, so he is with strangers," agreed Mr. Stanley. "He is a shy man. It is his nature, and he knows it. But when he can shake off his shyness, he is quite another man. I wish you could have heard him address a meeting of undergraduates the other day. You would not have believed it was the same person."

  "Addressing them? On what subject?" asked Evelyn, now more astonished than ever.

  "Oh, about personal faith. Lord Moreton has a wonderful power with young men. He is not at all nervous when speaking to them. It is you ladies that make him so shy," said Mr. Stanley, laughing. "You are such formidable beings!"

  "Well, I am surprised." said Evelyn. "I would not have believed it, if you had not told me. And he is a real Christian? I'm so glad to hear it."

  "Yes," said Mr. Stanley, "he is a man who lives near to God. His one desire and aim is to bring people to the Saviour. Indeed," he added, "it was his words and his example which first made me decide for Christ."

  I could hear no more, for we had reached the Jaffa Gate and passed into the noisy square in front of the Tower of David.

  Whether Sir William had overheard the conversation I did not know. He looked pleased and half amused as it was going on, but perhaps he may have been reading some interesting anecdote in his guidebook.

  Mr. Stanley left us at the Tower of David, and we went to the hotel to rest until the evening.

  Chapter Fifteen

  IT WAS still hot when we started from the Damascus Gate and rode in the direction of the Mount of Olives.

  "What a wretched little hillock it is," said Claude, as we drew near to it. "It does not even deserve the name of a hill, much less of a mountain."

  But to most of us in the party this "wretched little hillock" was the most sacred spot on earth. There was no doubt about its identity. "The mountain on the east side of the city" could not be mistaken for any other. No vain superstition, no improbable legend had fixed on this hill as the place where our Lord's feet had so often trod. The hand of time, and the cruel devastations of war which had laid low the beautiful Temple and made Jerusalem a heap of ruins, had not been able to obliterate this spot, nor make us doubtful as to whether it was indeed the same Mount of Olives of which we had read so often in the Gospels.

  We crossed the Valley of Jehoshaphat, passed the wall of what was believed to be Gethsemane, and began to ascend one of the steep stony paths which led across the mountain to Bethany.

  "Do you know, Miss Lindsay," said Mr. Stanley, "that these paths on the hillsides are probably less changed than anything in the whole country? They must have gone in the same direction years ago, and this is without doubt the very road our Lord's feet so often trod to and from the city on His way to Martha's house."

  I felt as if it was almost too sacred ground. I did not answer him, for I could not have done so without tears. So we rode on in silence a little way behind the others. Evelyn told me afterwards she would have been thankful to have been with us, for Claude and Alice were laughing and talking the whole way, telling amusing stories of things and people in England, and taking little or no notice of the scenes and places around them. The Mount of Olives was nothing to them.

  Mr. Stanley rode forward as we came to a turn in the road on the shoulder of the hill, and made them all stop and look round at the city. "It is at this place, when coming from Bethany, that Jerusalem first comes in sight, and there," he said, "must have been the very spot on which our Lord stood when, 'He beheld the city and wept over it.'"

  Evelyn came close to me and whispered, "Oh, May, I cannot help it, the tears will come. Let's go a little way off by ourselves. Claude and Alice will chatter so."

  We got off our horses, left them with the guide, and went a short distance from the road to a clump of olive trees. Here we stood, looking down on the city. If our Lord wept as He gazed on it in its glory, because He saw in the far distance the shadow of ruin and desolation creeping towards it, how much more would we weep, who saw the once beloved city, the joy of the whole earth, made a very curse among men.

  "Look forward as well as backward," said Mr. Stanley's voice behind us.

  "Forward to what?" Evelyn asked.

  He rode closer. "Forward to that day when Isaiah says the Lord will no longer weep over Jerusalem, but will rejoice over her."

  "Doesn't it remind you of the shepherd's joy in Jesus' parable," I said, "as he brought back his lost sheep, rejoicing himself, and calling together his friends, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost'?"

  "Yes, indeed," said Mr. Stanley. "I never thought of that. The two passages are wonderfully alike."

  "Oh, Mr. Stanley," said Evelyn, as he turned round, "must we go? It's so delightful to be here."

  "I think we must come again another day by ourselves," said Mr. Stanley in a whisper. "Your friends are rather impatient to be moving. They find little to interest them on the Mount of Olives."

  "I'm not surprised," said Evelyn. "Half the Bible they don't believe in, and the other half they don't care for. But, oh dear, I do wish they hadn't come with us. I didn't think we would feel it so much."

  Evelyn went ahead reluctantly to join her father. Mr. Stanley stayed behind a moment and gathered a spray of olive leaves which he gave to me, and asked me to keep it, "As a remembrance of the place, and of our coming here together."

  I have that spray of olive leaves now, and shall keep it as long as I live.

  So we went on to Bethany. The road must have taken the same course in our Lord's time, for there was a deep valley, and the road ran at its head. And it must have looked just the same then, with the same wild flowers growing by the wayside, the same blue mountains of Moab in front, and the same green valley beneath.

  Mr. Stanley pointed out to me some fig trees growing close to the road, just as they did when the Saviour, hungry with His long walk from Bethany, searched among the leaves for fruit to refresh Him on the way. I had no idea before that it was so far from Jerusalem to Bethany. Jesus must have been weary as He went backwards and forwards every day of that last, sad week of His life on earth. Only once do we read of Him riding. It was all on foot, in the weariness and heat of the day, with the same sun beating on His head as was shining on us at that very moment.

  I never enjoyed anything so much as that ride to Bethany. It was quiet and peaceful, for Sir William and Claude were some way in front with the guide, and Evelyn, who rode next with Alice, was not much inclined for conversation a
nd kept her laughing companion tolerably still, so that Mr. Stanley and I were not interrupted in our quiet talk together.

  Then we came to Bethany, a miserable, wretched, dirty village, and here a group of Arabs ran out of their houses to look at us and beg for money, while a number of noisy dogs barked and howled and jumped up at our horses' heads. We were glad to get as quickly as possible out of the narrow street and gradually climb the eastern side of the Mount of Olives.

  "I think the Ascension of Jesus must have taken place somewhere here," said Mr. Stanley. "It would be just far enough away from the noise of the village, and such a likely place for them to come to."

  A lovely view was spread out before us. The village of Bethany lay almost at our feet to the south-east, and the great wilderness of Judea stretched far away, and beyond it in the distance we could see the fertile plain of the Jordan like a line of silver running into the deep blue Dead Sea. Beyond it, the grand Moab Mountains stood out like a wall against the sky.

  "This is fine," said Claude, as we stood looking at it. "This is well worth coming to see."

  I found it ironic that this was the same view that Lot had gazed on, yet where today were the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah on the plain which he had seen in their glory?

  Then we crossed over the top of the mountain and began to descend the western side, by the path which David took when fleeing from Absalom. David had climbed up barefoot, and with his head covered, weeping as he went at the ingratitude and cruelty of his son.

  We had a different view now, and a beautiful one. The city of Jerusalem was lying at our feet, nestling among the hills.

  "'As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about His people, from henceforth, even for ever,'" said Mr. Stanley to Evelyn and me, as he rode between us.

  "If we could always remember that verse from the Psalms," said Evelyn, "how happy it would make us."

  "Yes," said Mr. Stanley, "it would indeed. But is it not a comfort to know that He is round us, whether we remember it or not? The mountains do not go, even though the clouds hide them from our sight."

  "I shall never forget this ride," said Evelyn, after a pause.

  "And I am sure I shall never forget it," said Mr. Stanley.

  "But I thought. . ." said Evelyn.

  "What did you think, Miss Trafford?"

  "I thought that it would not seem quite the same to you as it does to us. I thought you would have become so accustomed to it that you wouldn't enjoy it so much."

  "Oh, I never feel that about the Mount of Olives," said Mr. Stanley. "Other places in Jerusalem, I grant, have somewhat lost their sacredness in my eyes, but the Mount of Olives always seems holy ground. I think we can never forget that this was the last place our Lord's feet touched before He left us, and that it will be the first place they will touch when He comes again. The prophet Zechariah says, 'His feet shall stand in that day upon the Mount of Olives which is before Jerusalem, on the east.'

  "And then," he added, after a pause, "I have enjoyed it specially today."

  Claude and Alice left Jerusalem the next morning to continue their journey through Samaria and Galilee, and we were not sorry to be alone when we visited the other truly interesting places in and near Jerusalem.

  Sightseeing in Palestine is, in this respect, different from sightseeing in other places. Unless there is some communion of heart between you and those who are with you -- unless they love the Book and the Name which make every place around you so sacred -- their remarks, and indeed the whole tone of their conversation, cannot fail to jar upon you and be somewhat trying and irksome.

  After Claude and Alice were gone, we thoroughly enjoyed our daily excursions in the city and its neighbourhood. Although Mr. Stanley was comparatively a stranger, we had learned to know him so well in those few weeks that he seemed more like an old friend. He was a wonderful help to us in our exploration of the city, for not only did he know Jerusalem well himself, but he had during his long stay there made many friends among the residents who obtained for us admittance into several places which were closed to ordinary travellers.

  One of these, a German gentleman, was most kind in guiding us to several interesting spots, and took us among other places to Solomon's Quarry.

  "Would you like to see Solomon's Quarry?" said Mr. Stanley to Sir William, one day.

  "Solomon's Quarry?" repeated Sir William. "Where may that be, pray?"

  "It is underneath the city," said Mr. Stanley "It is a most curious and interesting place. My friend who will guide us has been active in its exploration, and has made a splendid plan of the whole place. He knows every inch of the way."

  "But is it really Solomon's quarry?" said Sir William, incredulously.

  "Probably so, for it is clear that stone has been taken out of it for some great building, and then you remember what is told us of the building of Solomon's Temple: 'And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready before it was brought thither: so that there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house, while it was in building.' Now we have only to look at the stones which still remain of the wall which Solomon built round the Temple platform, to see that the stones he used were so enormous that they are unlikely to have been brought from any great distance away. In order to move them at all, the labour must have been immense, and it has always been a mystery how such huge blocks could be hewn from any rock within a short distance of the building so that they could be easily moved to it, and yet be so far away that no sound of axe or hammer would be heard in the Temple itself."

  "I see," said Sir William; "and the discovery of this quarry explains the mystery, for the stones could be hewn and finished underground, and then brought to the surface, and put at once in their proper positions. How interesting."

  "But we have a still stronger reason," said Mr. Stanley, "for feeling sure that this is Solomon's Quarry. I have been reliably informed that there is no other place in the whole country round which shows signs of having been used as a quarry from which stone could have been taken for any large building. The stone in these underground quarries is, I believe, the same kind of stone as we find in the Temple buildings."

  "How very, very interesting." said Sir William. "When can we go there?"

  "I have arranged with my friend to meet us at the Damascus Gate tomorrow morning. If that will suit you," he added, turning to Evelyn.

  We had no engagement for the next day, so it was settled that Mr. Stanley would call for us at eleven o'clock.

  But when the morning came, poor Evelyn was not well enough to go. She had a slight attack of the fever which apparently was common in Jerusalem, and the doctor advised her to keep quiet for a day or two lest she should have it more severely. I wanted to stay with Evelyn, but she would not hear of it and insisted on my leaving her in the care of Clemence.

  "If you don't go, May," she said, "I shall never hear anything about it. Papa never can describe places. Now don't be unkind and disobedient, but put on your hat and get ready!"

  So, rather against my will, I set forth with the others. The gentleman who was our guide was most kind in explaining everything to us, giving us some most varied and interesting information.

  "How were these quarries discovered?" Sir William asked.

  "In a curious way," he said. "Not many years ago there was a lad shooting rock pigeons outside the northern wall. He had a dog with him, and the dog suddenly disappeared. He had seen it last going behind an olive tree which grew at the bottom of the rook on which you see the wall is built. He went to look for the dog, and found on the face of the rock quite a small hole, so small that he could not get through it himself, though he heard his dog barking inside. So he came back into the city for help, and then the hole was made bigger, and they discovered this place."

  "How curious." said Sir William.

  "Here we are," said Mr. Stanley. "Here is the hole. Now, Miss Lindsay, are you ready to leave the sunshine behind?"

  We
had brought candles with us, and we lit them and began slowly to descend, crouching for some distance almost on our hands and knees. After we had gone a few yards we found ourselves in a large, rock-hewn cave as spacious as an immense church, and from this point passage after passage went in different directions.

  Our guide led the way and we followed. Hall after hall, passage after passage we explored as we went for nearly a mile underneath the streets of Jerusalem.

  "Can you picture the scene, three thousand years ago," said Mr. Stanley to me, "when the place was full of Solomon's workmen? Look, here are the marks of their tools in the stone, as fresh as ever. And do you see this?" he said, as he pointed to a little niche in the wall. "This is where a workman put his lamp while he was at work. You can even see the black smoke which the flame left on the stone above."

  "How wonderful," I said. "Oh, Mr. Stanley, it is an interesting place."

  Mr. Stanley got for me a piece of stone from the walls of the quarry, with the marks of the chisel on it, and I put it carefully away with my spray of olive leaves.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning Evelyn was much better. The fever had passed away, but she felt tired and exhausted. So she decided to keep quietly in her room until lunch time, as she was anxious to join us in an expedition which Mr. Stanley had planned for that evening. We were to visit an old tomb which had just been discovered on the road to Bethlehem, and in which Mr. Stanley's German friend, Mr. Schwarz, took a great interest. Mr. Schwarz would not be able to guide us there himself, as he was going away from Jerusalem for some weeks on business. But he kindly promised that his daughter would show us the way to the tomb, as Mr. Stanley had never been there before.

  Evelyn was most anxious to go with us, so we arranged to start when the day began to grow cooler, for Mr. Schwarz assured us that it was not a long ride and we could easily be back before sunset.

  I was up early that morning, and leaving Evelyn in bed I went downstairs to write an account of our visit to Solomon's Quarry in a letter to my sister Maggie. Her aunts took great interest in hearing of all the places I was visiting, although I was certain they still predicted that I would not come back alive.