CHAPTER XXIX
HOW MARCUS CHANGED HIS FAITH
Caleb was not the only one who heard the evil tidings of the ship_Luna_; it came to the ears of the bishop Cyril also, since little ofany moment passed within the city of Rome which the Christians did notknow.
Like Caleb, he satisfied himself of the truth of the matter by aninterview with the captain of the _Imperatrix_. Then with a sorrowfulheart he departed to the prison near the Temple of Mars. Here the wardentold him that Marcus wished to see no one, but answering "Friend, mybusiness will not wait," he pushed past the man and entered the roombeyond. Marcus was standing up in the centre of it, in his hand adrawn sword of the short Roman pattern, which, on catching sight of hisvisitor, he cast upon the table with an exclamation of impatience. Itfell beside a letter addressed to "The Lady Miriam in Tyre. To be giveninto her own hand."
"Peace be with you," said the bishop, searching his face with his quieteyes.
"I thank you, friend," answered Marcus, smiling strangely, "I needpeace, and--seek it."
"Son," asked the bishop, "what were you about to do?"
"Friend," answered Marcus, "If you desire to know, I was about to fallupon my sword. One more minute and I should have been dead. They broughtit me with the cloak and other things. It was thoughtful of them, and Iguessed their meaning."
Cyril lifted the sword from the table and cast it into a corner of theroom.
"God be thanked," he said, "Who led my feet here in time to save youfrom this sin. Why, because it has pleased Him to take her life, shouldyou seek to take your own?"
"Her life?" said Marcus. "What dreadful words are these. Her life! Whoselife?"
"The life of Miriam. I came to tell you. She is drowned upon the seaswith all her company."
For a moment Marcus stood swaying to and fro like a drunken man. Then hesaid:
"Is it so indeed? Well, the more reason that I should make haste tofollow her. Begone and leave me to do the deed alone," and he steppedtowards the sword.
Cyril set his foot upon the shining blade.
"What is this madness?" he asked. "If you did not know of Miriam'sdeath, why do you desire to kill yourself?"
"Because I have lost more than Miriam. Man, they have robbed me of myhonour. By the decree of Titus, I, Marcus, am branded as a coward. Yes,Titus, at whose side I have fought a score of battles--Titus, from whomI have warded many a blow--has banished me from Rome."
"Tell me of this thing," said Cyril.
So Marcus told him all. Cyril listened in silence, then said sternly:
"Is it for this that you would kill yourself? Is your honour lessened bya decree based upon false evidence, and given for reasons of policy? Doyou cease to be honourable because others are dishonourable, and wouldyou--a soldier--fly from the battle? Now, indeed, Marcus, you showyourself a coward."
"How can I live on who am so shamed?" he asked passionately. "My friendsknew that I could not live, and that is why they wrapped a sword inyonder cloak and sent it me. Also Miriam, you say, is dead."
"Satan sent it to you, Marcus, desiring to fashion of your foolishpride a ladder down which you might climb to hell. Cast aside this basetemptation which wears the mask of false honour; face your trouble likea man, and conquer it by innocence--and faith."
"Miriam! What of Miriam?"
"Yes, what of Miriam? How would she welcome you yonder, who cometo greet her with your blood upon your hands? Oh! son, do you notunderstand that this is the trial laid upon you? You have been broughtlow that you might rise high. Once the world gave you all it hadto give. You were rich, you were a captain among captains; you werehigh-born; men called you 'The Fortunate.' Then Christ appealed to youin vain, you put Him by. What had you to do with the crucified carpenterof Galilee? Now by the plotting of your foes you have fallen. No longerdo you rank high in your trade of blood. You are dismissed its serviceand an exile. The lesson of life has come home to you, therefore youseek to escape from life rather than bide in it to do your duty throughgood and ill, heedless of what men may say, and finding peace in theverdict of your own conscience. Let Him Whom you put by in your hours ofpomp come to you now. Carry your cross with your shame as He carried Hisin His shame. In His light find light, in His peace find peace, and atthe end her who has been taken from you awhile. Has my spirit spoken invain with your spirit during all these many weeks, son Marcus? Alreadyyou have told me that you believe, and now at the first breath oftrouble will you go back upon that which you know to be the Truth? Oh!once more listen to me, that your eyes may be opened before it is toolate."
"Speak on, I hear you," said Marcus with a sigh.
So Cyril pleaded with him in the passion of one inspired, and as Marcushearkened his heart was softened and his purpose turned.
"I knew it all before, I believed it all before," he said at length,"but I would not accept your baptism and become a member of yourChurch."
"Why not, son?"
"Because had I done so she would have thought and you might havethought, and perhaps I myself should have thought that I did it, as onceI offered to do, to win her whom I desired above all things on earth.Now she is dead and it is otherwise. Shrive me, father, and do youroffice."
So there in the prison cell the bishop Cyril took water and baptised theRoman Marcus into the body of the Christian Church.
"What shall I do now?" Marcus asked as he rose from his knees. "OnceCaesar was my master, now you speak with the voice of Caesar. Command me."
"I do not speak, Christ speaks. Listen. I am called by the Church to goto Alexandria in Egypt, whither I sail within three days. Will you whoare exiled from Rome come with me? There I can find you work to do."
"I have said that you are Caesar," answered Marcus. "Now it is sunset andI am free; accompany me to my house, I pray you, for there much businesswaits me in which I need counsel, who am overborne."
So presently the gates were opened as Titus had commanded, and they wentforth, attended only by a guard of two men, walking unnoted through thestreets to the palace in the Via Agrippa.
"There is the door," said the sergeant of the guard, pointing to theside entrance of the house. "Enter with your friend and, noble Marcus,fare you well."
So they went to the archway, and finding the door ajar, passed throughand shut it behind them.
"For a house where there is much to steal this is ill guarded, son. InRome an open gate ought to have a watchman," said Cyril as he groped hisway through the darkness of the arch.
"My steward Stephanus should be at hand, for the jailer advised him ofmy coming--who never thought to come," began Marcus, then of a suddenstumbled heavily and was silent.
"What is it?" asked Cyril.
"By the feel one who is drunken--or dead. Some beggar, perhaps, whosleeps off his liquor here."
By now Cyril was through the archway and in the little courtyard beyond.
"A light burns in that window," he said. "Come, you know the path, guideme to it. We can return to this sleeper."
"Who seems hard to wake," added Marcus, as he led the way across thecourtyard to the door of the offices. This also proved to be open andby it they entered the room where the steward kept his books and slept.Upon the table a lamp was burning, that which they had seen through thecasement. Its light showed them a strange sight. An iron-bound box thatwas chained to the wall had been broken open and its contents rifled,for papers were strewn here and there, and on them lay an empty leathernmoney-bag. The furniture also was overturned as though in some struggle,while among it, one in the corner of the room and one beneath the marbletable, which was too heavy to be moved, lay two figures, those of a manand a woman.
"Murderers have been here," said Cyril with a groan.
Marcus snatched the lamp from the table and held it to the face of theman in the corner.
"It is Stephanus," he said, "Stephanus bound and gagged, but living,and the other is the slave woman. Hold the lamp while I loose them,"and drawing his short sword, he cut away the bonds, firs
t of the one andthen of the other. "Speak, man, speak!" he said, as Stephanus struggledto his feet. "What has chanced here?"
For some moments the old steward stared at him with round, frightenedeyes. Then he gasped:
"Oh! my lord, I thought you dead. They said that they had come to killyou by command of the Jew Caleb, he who gave the evidence."
"They! Who?" asked Marcus.
"I know not, four men whose faces were masked. They said also thatthough you must die, they were commanded to do me and this woman noharm, only to bind and silence us. This they did, then, having takenwhat money they could find, went out to waylay you. Afterwards I hearda scuffle in the arch and well-nigh died of sorrow, for I who couldneither warn nor help you, was sure that you were perishing beneaththeir knives."
"For this deliverance, thank God," said Cyril, lifting up his hands.
"Presently, presently," answered Marcus. "First follow me," and takingthe lamp in his hand, he ran back to the archway.
Beneath it a man lay upon his face--he across whom Marcus had stumbled,and about him blood flowed from many wounds. In silence they turned himover so that the light fell upon his features. Then Marcus staggeredback amazed, for, behold! they were Caleb's, notwithstanding the bloodand wounds that marred them, still dark and handsome in his death sleep.
"Why," he said to Stephanus, "this is that very man whose bloody work,as they told us, the murderers came to do. It would seem that he hasfallen into his own snare."
"Are you certain, son?" asked Cyril. "Does not this gashed and gorycheek deceive you?"
"Draw that hand of his from beneath the cloak," answered Marcus. "If Iam right the first finger will lack a joint."
Cyril obeyed and held up the stiffening hand. It was as Marcus had said.
"Caught in his own snare!" repeated Marcus. "Well, though I knew hehated me, and more than once we have striven to slay each other inbattle and private fight, never would I have believed that Caleb the Jewwould sink to murder. He is well repaid, the treacherous dog!"
"Judge not, that ye be not judged," answered Cyril. "What do you know ofhow or why this man came by his death? He may have been hurrying here towarn you."
"Against his own paid assassins! No, father, I know Caleb better, onlyhe was viler than I thought."
Then they carried the body into the house and took counsel what theyshould do. While they reasoned together, for every path seemed full ofdanger, there came a knock upon the archway door. They hesitated, notknowing whether it would be safe to open, till the knock was repeatedmore loudly.
"I will go, lord," said Stephanus, "for why need I fear, who am of noaccount to any one?"
So he went, presently to return.
"What was it?" asked Marcus.
"Only a young man, who said that he had been strictly charged by hismaster, Demetrius the Alexandrian merchant, to deliver a letter at thishour. Here is the letter."
"Demetrius, the Alexandrian merchant," said Marcus as he took it. "Why,under that name Caleb who lies there dead passed in Rome."
"Read the letter," said Cyril.
So Marcus cut the silk, broke the seal, and read:
"To the noble Marcus,
"In the past I have worked you evil and often striven to take your life.Now it has come to my ears that Domitian, who hates you even worse thanI do, if for less reason, has laid a plot to murder you on the thresholdof your own house. Therefore, by way of amends for that evidence whichI gave against you that stained the truth, since no braver man everbreathed than you are, Marcus, it has come into my mind to visit thePalace Fortunate wrapped in such a cloak as you Roman captains wear.There, before you read this letter, perhaps we shall meet again. Still,mourn me not, Marcus, nor speak of me as generous, or noble, sinceMiriam is dead, and I who have followed her through life desire tofollow her through death, hoping that there I may find a kinder fortuneat her hands, or if not, forgetfulness. You who will live long, mustdrink deep of memory--a bitterer cup. Marcus, farewell. Since die Imust, I would that it had been in open fight beneath your sword, butFate, who has given me fortune, but no true favour, appoints me to thedaggers of assassins that seek another heart. So be it. You tarry here,but I travel to Miriam. Why should I grumble at the road?
"Caleb.
"Written at Rome upon the night of my death."
"A brave man and a bitter," said Marcus when he had finished reading."Know, my father, that I am more jealous of him now than ever I was inhis life's days. Had it not been for you and your preaching," he addedangrily, "when he came to seek Miriam, he would have found me at herside. But now, how can I tell?"
"Peace to your heathen talk!" answered the bishop. "Is the land ofspirits then such as your poets picture, and do the dead turn to eachother with eyes of earthly passion? Yet," he added more gently, "Ishould not blame you who, like this poor Jew, from childhood have beensteeped in superstitions. Have no fear of his rivalry in the heavenlyfields, friend Marcus, where neither do they marry or are given inmarriage, nor think that self-murder can help a man. What the end ofall this tale may be does not yet appear; still I am certain that yonderCaleb will take no gain in hurrying down to death, unless indeed he didit from a nobler motive than he says, as I for one believe."
"I trust that it may be so," answered Marcus, "although in truth thatanother man should die for me gives me no comfort. Rather would I thathe had left me to my doom."
"As God has willed so it has befallen, for 'man's goings are of theLord; how then can a man understand his own way?'" replied Cyril with asigh. "Now let us to other matters, for time is short and it comes uponme that you will do well to be clear of Rome before Domitian finds thatCaleb fell in place of Marcus."
Nearly three more months had gone when, at length, one night as the sunvanished, a galley crept wearily into the harbour of Alexandria and castanchor just as the light of Pharos began to shine across the sea. Herpassage through the winter gales had been hard, and for weeks at a timeshe had been obliged to shelter in harbours by the way. Now, short offood and water, she had come safely to her haven, for which mercy thebishop Cyril with the Roman Marcus and such other Christians as wereaboard of her gave thanks to Heaven upon their knees in their littlecabin near the forecastle, for it was too late to attempt to land thatnight. Then they went on deck and, as all their food was gone and theyhad no drink except some stinking water, leaned upon the bulwarks andlooked hungrily towards the shore, where gleamed the thousand lights ofthe mighty city. Near to them, not a bowshot away indeed, lay anothership. Presently, as they stared at her black outline, the sound ofsinging floated from her decks across the still, starlit waters of theharbour. They listened to it idly enough at first, till at length somewords of that song reached their ears, causing them to look at eachother.
"That is no sailor's ditty," said Marcus.
"No," answered Cyril, "it is a Christian hymn, and one that I know well.Listen. Each verse ends, 'Peace, be still!'"
"Then," said Marcus, "yonder must be a Christian ship, else they wouldnot dare to sing that hymn. The night is calm, let us beg the boat andvisit it. I am thirsty, and those good folk may have fresh water."
"If you wish," answered Cyril. "There too we may get tidings as well aswater."
A while later the little boat rowed to the side of the strange ship andasked leave to board of the watchman.
"What sign do you give?" asked the officer.
"The sign of the Cross," answered Cyril. "We have heard your hymn whoare of the brotherhood of Rome."
Then a rope ladder was thrown down to them and the officer bade themmake fast and be welcome.
They climbed upon the deck and went to seek the captain, who was inthe afterpart of the ship, where an awning was stretched. In the spaceenclosed by this awning, which was lit with lanterns, stood a woman ina white robe, who sang the refrain of the hymn in a very sweet voice,others of the company, from time to time, joining in its choruses.
"From the dead am I arisen" sang the voice, and there was something inthe
thrilling notes that went straight to the heart of Marcus, some toneand quality which were familiar.
Side by side with Cyril he climbed onwards across the rowing benches,and the noise of their stumbling footsteps reaching the singer's ears,caused her to pause in her song. Then stepping forward a little, asthough to look, she came under the lantern so that its light fell fullupon her face, and, seeing nothing, once more took up her chant:
"Oh ye faithless, from the dead am I arisen."
"Look, look!" gasped Marcus, clutching Cyril by the arm. "Look! It isMiriam, or her spirit."
Another instant and he, too, had come into the circle of the lamplight,so that his eyes met the eyes of the singer. Now she saw him and, with alittle cry, sank senseless to the deck.
So the long story ended. Afterwards they learned that the tale which hadbeen brought to Rome of the loss of the ship _Luna_ was false. She hadmet the great gale, indeed, but had sheltered from it in a harbour,where the skill of her captain, Hector, brought her safely. Then shemade her way to Sicily, where she refitted, and so on to one of theGrecian ports, in which she lay for eight weeks waiting for betterweather, till a favouring wind brought her somewhat slowly toAlexandria, a port she won only two days before the galley of Marcus.It would seem, therefore, that the vessel that had foundered in sightof the _Imperatrix_ was either another ship also called the _Luna_, nouncommon name, or that the mariners of the _Imperatrix_ had not heardher title rightly. It may have been even that the dying sailor who toldit to them wandered in his mind, and forgetting how his last ship wascalled, gave her some name with which he was familiar. At the least,through the good workings of Providence, that _Luna_ which bore Miriamand her company escaped the perils of the deep and in due time reachedthe haven of Alexandria.
Before they parted that happy night all their tale was told. Miriamlearned how Caleb had kept the promise that he made to her, althoughwhen he thought her dead his fierce and jealous heart would suffer himto tell nothing of it to Marcus. She learned also how it came about thatMarcus had been saved from death at his own hand by Cyril and enteredthe company of the Christian brotherhood. Very glad were both of them tothink in the after years that he had done this believing her to be lostto him in death. Now none could say that he had changed his faith to wina woman, nor could their own consciences whisper to them that this waspossible, though even at the time he knew it not.
So they understood how through their many trials, dangers, andtemptations all things had worked together for good to them.
On the morrow, there in the ship _Luna_, Marcus and Miriam, whom theRomans called Pearl-Maiden, were wedded by the bishop Cyril, the CaptainGallus giving the bride in marriage, while the white-haired, fierce-eyedNehushta stood at their side and blessed them in the name of that deadmother whose command had not been broken.
Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem Page 51