Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem

by H. Rider Haggard

  CHAPTER XI

  THE ESSENES LOSE THEIR QUEEN

  The Court of the Essenes was gathered in council debating the subjectof the departure of their ward, Miriam. She must go, that was evident,since not even for her, whom they loved as though each of them had beenin truth her father or her uncle, could their ancient, sacred rulebe broken. But where was she to go and how should she be supported asbecame her? These were the questions that troubled them and that theydebated earnestly. At length her great-uncle Ithiel suggested that sheshould be summoned before them, that they might hear her wishes. To thishis brethren agreed, and he was sent to fetch her.

  A while later, attended by Nehushta, Miriam arrived, clad in a robeof pure white, and wearing on her head a wimple of white, edged withpurple, and about her waist a purple scarf. So greatly did the Esseneslove and reverence this maid, that as she entered, all the hundred ofthe Court rose and remaining standing until she herself was seated. Thenthe President, who was sorrowful and even shamefaced, addressed her,telling her their trouble, and praying her pardon because the ordinanceof their order forced them to arrange that she should depart from amongthem. At the end of this speech he asked her what were her wishes asregarded her own future, adding that for her maintenance she need haveno fear, since out of their revenues a modest sum would be set asideannually which would suffice to keep her from poverty.

  In answer Miriam, also speaking sadly, thanked them from her heartfor all their goodness, telling them she had long known this hour ofseparation to be at hand. As to where she should dwell, since tumultswere so many in Jerusalem, she suggested that she might find a home inone of the coast cities, where perhaps some friend or relative of thebrethren would shelter Nehushta and herself.

  Instantly eight or ten of those present said that they knew such trustyfolk in one place or another, and the various offers were submitted tothe Court for discussion. While the talk was still going on there camea knock upon the door. After the usual questions and precautions, abrother was admitted who informed them that there had arrived in thevillage, at the head of a considerable retinue, Benoni, the Jewishmerchant of Tyre. He stated that he desired speech with them on thesubject of his granddaughter Miriam, who, he learned, was, or had beenrecently, in their charge.

  "Here may be an answer to the riddle," said the President. "We know ofthis Benoni, also that he purposed to demand his granddaughter of us,though until he did so it was not for us to speak." Then he put it tothe Court that Benoni should be admitted.

  To this they agreed, and presently the Jew came, splendidly attired, hislong white beard flowing down a robe that glittered with embroideries ofgold and silver. Entering the dim, cool hall, he stared in amazement atthe long half-circles of venerable, white-robed men who were gatheredthere. Next his quick eyes fell upon the lovely maiden who, attendedby the dark-visaged Nehushta, sat before them on a seat of honour; andlooking, he guessed that she must be Miriam.

  "Little wonder," reflected Benoni to himself, "that all men seem to lovethis girl, since at the first sight of her my own heart softens."

  Then he bowed to the President of the Court and the President bowedback in answer. But not one of the rest so much as moved his head, sincealready every man of them hated this stranger who was about to carryaway her whom they called their Queen.

  "Sirs," said Benoni breaking the silence, "I come here upon astrange errand--namely, to ask of you a maid whom I believe to be mygranddaughter, of whose existence I learned not long ago, and whom, asit seems, you have sheltered from her birth. Is she among you here?" andhe looked at Miriam.

  "The lady Miriam sits yonder," said the President. "You are right innaming her your granddaughter, as we have known her to be from thebeginning."

  "Then why," said Benoni, "did I not know it also?"

  "Because," answered the President quietly, "we did not think it fittingto deliver a child that was committed to our charge, to the care of onewho had brought her father, and tried to bring her mother, his own seed,to the most horrible of deaths."

  As he spoke he fixed his eyes indignantly upon Benoni; as did every manof all that great company, till even the bold-faced Jew dropped his headabashed.

  "I am not here," he said, recovering himself, "to make defence of whatI have done, or have not done in the past. I am here to demand that mygrandchild, now as I perceive a woman grown, may be handed over to me,her natural guardian."

  "Before this can be considered," answered the President, "we who havebeen her guardians for so many years, should require guarantees andsureties."

  "What guarantees, and what sureties?" asked Benoni.

  "These among others--That money sufficient for her support after yourdeath should be settled upon her. That she shall be left reasonableliberty in the matter of her daily life and her marriage, if it shouldplease her to marry. Lastly, that as we have undertaken not to meddlewith her faith, or to oppress her into changing it, so must youundertake also."

  "And if I refuse these things?" asked Benoni.

  "Then you see the lady Miriam for the first and last time," answeredthe President boldly, while the others nodded approval. "We are menof peace, but, merchant, you must not, therefore, think us men withoutpower. We must part with the lady Miriam, who to every one of us is asa daughter, because the unbreakable rule of our order ordains that she,who is now a woman grown, can no longer remain among us. But wherevershe dwells, to the last day of her life our love shall go with herand the whole strength of our Order shall protect her. If any harm isattempted to her, we shall be swift to hear and swifter to avenge. Ifyou refuse our conditions, she will vanish from your sight, and then,merchant, go, search the world, the coasts of Syria, the banks of Egypt,and the cities of Italy--and find her if you can. We have spoken."

  Benoni stroked his white beard before he answered.

  "You talk proudly," he said. "Did I shut my eyes I might fancy that thisvoice was the voice of a Roman procurator speaking the decrees of Caesar.Still, I am ready to believe that what you promise you can perform,since I for one am sure that you Essenes are not mere harmless hereticswho worship angels and demons, see visions, prophesy things to come bythe help of your familiars, and adore the sun in huts upon the desert."He paused, but the President, without taking the slightest notice of hisinsults or sarcasms, repeated merely:

  "We have spoken," and as with one voice, like some great echo, the wholehundred of them cried, "We have spoken!"

  "Do you hear them, master?" said Nehushta in the silence that followed."Well, I know them. They mean what they say, and you are right--whatwhich they threaten they can perform."

  "Let my grandchild speak," said Benoni. "Daughter, is it your wish thatsuch dishonouring bonds should be laid upon me?"

  "Grandsire," replied Miriam, in a pure, clear voice, "I may not quarrelwith that which is done for my own good. For the wealth I care little,but I would not become a slave in everything save the name, nor doI desire to set my feet in that path my parents trod. What my unclessay--all of these"--and she waved her hand--"speaking in the name of thethousands that are without, that I do, for they love me and I love them,and their mind is my mind and their words are my words."

  "Proud-spirited, and well spoken, like all her race," muttered Benoni.Still he stroked his beard and hesitated.

  "Be pleased to give your answer," said the President, "that we mayfinish our discussion before the hour of evening prayer. To help youto it, remember one thing--we ask no new conditions." Benoni glancedup quickly and the President added: "Those of which we have received acopy, that you swore to and signed in the presence of Marcus the Roman,are enough for us."

  Now it was Miriam's turn to look, first up and then down. As for hergrandfather, he turned white with anger, and broke into a bitter laugh.

  "Now I understand----"

  "----that the arm of the Essenes is longer than you thought, since itcan reach from here to Rome," said the President.

  "Ay! that you can plot with Romans. Well, be careful lest the sword
of these Romans prove longer than _you_ thought and reach even to yourhearts, O you peaceful dwellers in the desert!" Then, as though hefeared some answer, he added quickly, "I am minded to return and leavethis maiden with you to dispose of as you think fit. Yet I will not doso, for she is very fair and gracious, and with the wealth that I cangive her, may fill some high place in the world. Also--and this is moreto me--I am old and draw near my end and she alone has my blood in herveins. Therefore I will agree to all your terms, and take her home withme to Tyre, trusting that she may learn to love me."

  "Good," said the President. "To-morrow the papers shall be prepared andsigned. Meanwhile we pray you to be our guest."

  Next evening signed they were accordingly, Benoni agreeing without demurto all that the Essenes asked on behalf of her who had been theirward, and even assigning to her a separate revenue during his lifetime.Indeed, now that he had seen her, so loth was he to part with thisnew-found daughter, that he would have done still more had it been askedof him, lest she should be spirited from his sight, as, did he refuse,might well happen.

  Three days later Miriam bade farewell to her protectors, who accompaniedher by hundreds to the ridge above the village. Here they stopped, andseeing that the moment of separation was at hand, Miriam's tears beganto flow.

  "Weep not, beloved child," said Ithiel, "for though we part with you inbody, yet shall we always be with you in the spirit, now in this life,and as we think, after this life. Moreover, by night and day, we shallwatch over you, and if any attempt to harm you--" here he glanced atBenoni, that brother-in-law to whom he bore but little love--"the verywinds will bear us tidings, and in this way or that, help will come."

  "Have no fear, Ithiel," broke in Benoni, "my bond, which you hold, isgood and it will be backed by love."

  "That I believe also," said Miriam; "and if it be so, grandsire, I willrepay love for love." Then she turned to the Essenes and thanked them inbroken words.

  "Be not downhearted," said Ithiel in a thick voice, "for I hope thateven in this life we shall meet again."

  "May it be so," answered Miriam, and they parted, the Essenes returningsadly to their home, and Benoni taking the road through Jericho toJerusalem.

  Travelling slowly, at the evening of the second day they set their campon open ground not far from the Damascus gate of the Holy City, butwithin the new north wall that had been built by Agrippa. Into the cityitself Benoni would not enter, fearing lest the Roman soldiers shouldplunder them. At moonrise Nehushta took Miriam by the hand and led herthrough the resting camels to a spot a few yards from the camp.

  There, standing with her back to the second wall, she pointed out to hera cliff, steep but of no great height, in which appeared little cavesand ridges of rock that, looked at from this distance, gave to its facea rude resemblance to a human skull.

  "See," she said solemnly. "Yonder the Lord was crucified."

  Miriam heard and sank to her knees in prayer. As she knelt there thegrave voice of her grandfather spoke behind her, bidding her rise.

  "Child," he said, "it is true. True is it also that signs and wondershappened after the death of that false Messiah, and that for me and mineHe left a curse behind Him which it may well be is not done with yet. Iknow your faith, and I have promised to let you follow it in peace. YetI beseech of you, do not make prayers to your God here in public, wherewith malefactors He suffered as a malefactor, lest others less tolerantshould see you and drag you to your father's death."

  Miriam bowed her head and returned to the camp, nor at that time didany further words pass between them on this matter of her religion.Thenceforward, however, she was careful to do nothing which could bringsuspicion on her grandfather.

  Four days later they came to the rich and beautiful city of Tyre, andMiriam saw the sea upon which she had been born. Hitherto, she hadfancied that its waters were much like those of the Dead Lake, uponwhose shores she had dwelt so many years; but when she perceived thebillows rushing onwards, white-crested, to break in thunder against thewalls of island Tyre, she clapped her hands with joy. Indeed, from thatday to the end of her life she loved the sea in all its moods, andfor hours at a time would find it sufficient company. Perhaps this wasbecause the seethe of its waves was the first sound that her ears hadheard, while her first breath was salted with its spray.

  From Jerusalem, Benoni had sent messengers mounted on swift horsesbidding his servants make ready to receive a guest. So it came aboutthat when she entered his palace in Tyre, Miriam found it decked asthough for a bride, and wandered in amazement--she who had known nothingbetter than the mud-houses of the Essenes--from hall to hall of theancient building that in bygone generations had been the home of kingsand governors. Benoni followed her steps, watching her with grave eyes,till at length all was visited save the gardens belonging to him whichwere on the mainland.

  "Are you pleased with your new home, daughter?" he asked presently.

  "My grandfather, it is beautiful," she answered. "Never have I dreamedof such a place as this. Say, may I work my art in one of these greatrooms?"

  "Miriam," he answered, "of this house henceforth you are the mistress,as in time to come you will be its owner. Believe me, child, it wasnot needed that so many and such different men should demand from mesureties for your comfort and your safety. All I have is yours, whilstall you have, including your faith and your friends, of whom there seemto be many, remains your own. Yet, should it please you to give me inreturn some small share of your love, I who am childless and friendlessshall be grateful."

  "That is my desire," answered Miriam hurriedly; "only, grandsire,between you and me----"

  "Speak it not," he said, with a gesture almost of despair, "or rather Iwill speak it--between you and me runs the river of your parents' blood.It is so, yet, Miriam, I will confess to you that I repent me of thatdeed. Age makes us judge more kindly. To me your faith is nothing andyour God a sham, yet I know now that to worship Him is not worthy ofdeath--at least not for that cause would I bring any to their deathto-day, or even to stripes and bonds. I will go further; I will stoopeven to borrow from His creed. Do not His teachings bid you to forgivethose who have done you wrong?"

  "They do, and that is why Christians love all mankind."

  "Then bring that law into this home of ours, Miriam, and love me whosorrow for what I did in the blind rage of my zeal, and who now in myold age am haunted by its memory."

  Then for the first time Miriam threw herself into the old man's arms andkissed him on the brow.

  So it came about that they made their peace and were happy together.

  Indeed, day by day Benoni loved her more, till at length she waseverything to him, and he grew jealous of all who sought her company,and especially of Nehushta.