Chapter 2: A Storm On Galilee.
One day, after the midday meal, John said:
"Mary, Raphael and his brother have taken the big boat, and goneoff with fish to Tiberias; and have told me that I can take thesmall boat, if I will. Ask my mother to let you off your task, andcome out with me. It is a fortnight since we had a row on the lake,together."
"I was beginning to think that you were never going to ask meagain, John; and, only I should punish myself, I would say you nay.There have you been, going out fishing every afternoon, and leavingme at home to spin; and it is all the worse because your mother hassaid that the time is fast coming when I must give up wanderingabout like a child, and must behave myself like a woman.
"Oh, dear, how tiresome it will be when there will be nothing to dobut to sit and spin, and to look after the house, and to walkinstead of running when I am out, and to behave like a grown-upperson, altogether!"
"You are almost grown up," John said; "you are taller, now, thanany of the maids except Zillah; but I shall be sorry to see yougrowing staid and solemn. And it was selfish of me not to ask youto go out before, but I really did not think of it. The fishermenhave been working hard, to make up for the time lost during theharvest; and I have really been useful, helping them with theirnets, and this is the last year I shall have my liberty.
"But come, don't let's be wasting time in talking; run in and getmy mother's permission, and then join me on the shore. I will takesome grapes down, for you to eat; for the sun is hot today, andthere is scarce a breath of wind on the water."
A few minutes later, the young pair stood together by the side ofthe boat.
"Your mother made all sorts of objections," Mary said, laughing,"and I do think she won't let me come again. I don't think shewould have done it, today, if Miriam had not stood up for me, andsaid that I was but a child though I was so tall; and that, as youwere very soon going to work with your father, she thought that itwas no use in making the change before that."
"What nonsense it all is!" John said. "Besides, you know it isarranged that, in a few months, we are to be betrothed according tothe wishes of your parents and mine. It would have been done, longago, only my father and mother do not approve of young betrothals;and think it better to wait, to see if the young ones like eachother; and I think that is quite right, too, in most cases--only,of course, living here, as you have done for the last threeyears--since your father and mother died--there was no fear of ournot liking each other."
"Well, you see," Mary said, as she sat in the stern of the boat,while John rowed it quietly along, "it might have been just theother way. When people don't see anything of each other, till theyare betrothed by their parents, they can't dislike each other verymuch; whereas, when they get to know each other, if they aredisagreeable they might get to almost hate each other."
"Yes, there is something in that," John agreed. "Of course, in ourcase it is all right, because we do like each other--we couldn'thave liked each other more, I think, if we had been brother andsister--but it seems to me that, sometimes, it must be horrid whena boy is told by his parents that he is to be betrothed to a girlhe has never seen. You see it isn't as if it were for a short time,but for all one's life. It must be awful!"
"Awful!" Mary agreed, heartily; "but of course, it would have to bedone."
"Of course," John said--the possibility of a lad refusing to obeyhis parents' commands not even occurring to him. "Still it doesn'tseem to me quite right that one should have no choice, in soimportant a matter. Of course, when one's got a father and motherlike mine--who would be sure to think only of making me happy, andnot of the amount of dowry, or anything of that sort--it would beall right; but with some parents, it would be dreadful."
For some time, not a word was spoken; both of them meditating overthe unpleasantness of being forced to marry someone they disliked.Then, finding the subject too difficult for them, they began totalk about other things; stopping, sometimes, to see the fishermenhaul up their nets, for there were a number of boats out on thelake. They rowed down as far as Tiberias and, there, John ceasedrowing; and they sat chatting over the wealth and beauty of thatcity, which John had often visited with his father, but which Maryhad never entered.
Then John turned the head of the boat up the lake and again beganto row but, scarcely had he dipped his oar into the water, when heexclaimed:
"Look at that black cloud rising, at the other end of the lake! Whydid you not tell me, Mary?"
"How stupid of me," she exclaimed, "not to have kept my eyes open!"
He bent to his oars, and made the boat move through the water at avery different rate to that at which she had before traveled.
"Most of the boats have gone," Mary said, presently, "and the restare all rowing to the shore; and the clouds are coming up veryfast," she added, looking round.
"We are going to have a storm," John said. "It will be upon us longbefore we get back. I shall make for the shore, Mary. We must leavethe boat there, and take shelter for a while, and then walk home.It will not be more than four miles to walk."
But though he spoke cheerfully, John knew enough of the suddenstorms that burst upon the Sea of Galilee to be aware that, longbefore he could cross the mile and a half of water, which separatedthem from the eastern shore, the storm would be upon them; andindeed, they were not more than half way when it burst.
The sky was already covered with black clouds. A great darknessgathered round them; then came a heavy downpour of rain; and then,with a sudden burst, the wind smote them. It was useless, now, totry to row, for the oars would have been twisted from his hands ina moment; and John took the helm, and told Mary to lie down in thebottom of the boat. He had already turned the boat's head up thelake, the direction in which the storm was traveling.
The boat sprang forward, as if it had received a blow, when thegale struck it. John had, more than once, been out on the lake withthe fishermen, when sudden storms had come up; and knew what wasbest to be done. When he had laid in his oars, he had put them sothat the blades stood partly up above the bow, and caught the windsomewhat; and he, himself, crouched down in the bottom, with hishead below the gunwale and his hand on the tiller; so that thetendency of the boat was to drive straight before the wind. With astrong crew, he knew that he could have rowed obliquely towards theshore but, alone, his strength could have done nothing to keep theheavy boat off her course.
The sea rose, as if by magic, and the spray was soon dashing overthem; each wave, as it followed the boat, rising higher and higher.The shores were no longer visible; and the crests of the wavesseemed to gleam, with a pallid light, in the darkness whichsurrounded them. John sat quietly in the bottom of the boat, withone hand on the tiller and the other arm round Mary, who wascrouched up against him. She had made no cry, or exclamation, fromthe moment the gale struck them.
Illustration: On the Sea of Galilee.
"Are we getting near shore?" she asked, at last.
"No, Mary; we are running straight before the wind, which isblowing right up the lake. There is nothing to be done but to keepstraight before it."
Mary had seen many storms on the lake, and knew into what a furyits waters were lashed, in a tempest such as was now upon them.
"We are in God's hands, John," she said, with the quiet resignationof her race. "He can save us, if He will. Let us pray to him."
John nodded and, for a few minutes, no word was spoken.
"Can I do anything?" Mary asked, presently, as a wave struck thestern, and threw a mass of water into the boat.
"Yes," John replied; "take that earthen pot, and bale out thewater."
John had no great hope that they would live through the gale, buthe thought it better for the girl to be kept busily employed. Shebailed steadily but, fast as she worked, the water came in faster;for each wave, as it swept past them, broke on board. So rapidlywere they traveling that John had the greatest difficulty inkeeping the boat from broaching to--in which case the followingwave would have filled, or
overturned, her.
"I don't think it's any use, John," Mary said, quietly, as a greatwave broke on board; pouring in as much water, in a second, as shecould have baled out in ten minutes.
"No use, dear. Sit quietly by me but, first, pull those oars aft.Now, tie them together with that piece of rope. Now, when the boatgoes down, keep tight hold of them.
"Cut off another piece of rope, and give it me. When we are in thewater, I will fasten you to the oars. They will keep you afloat,easily enough. I will keep close to you. You know I am a goodswimmer and, whenever I feel tired, I can rest my hands on theoars, too.
"Keep up your courage, and keep as quiet as you can. These suddenstorms seldom last long; and my father will be sure to get theboats out, as soon as he can, to look for us."
John spoke cheerfully, but he had no great hopes of their beingable to live in so rough a sea. Mary had still less, but shequietly carried out John's instructions. The boat was half-full ofwater, now, and rose but heavily upon the waves.
John raised himself and looked round; in hopes that the wind might,unnoticed, have shifted a little and blown them towards the shore.As he glanced around, him he gave a shout. Following almost intheir track, and some fifty yards away, was a large galley; runningbefore the wind, with a rag of sail set on its mast.
"We are saved, Mary!" he exclaimed. "Here is a galley, close tous."
He shouted loudly, though he knew that his voice could not beheard, many yards away, in the teeth of the gale but, almostdirectly, he saw two or three men stand up in the bow of thegalley. One was pointing towards them, and he saw that they wereseen.
In another minute the galley came sweeping along, close to theboat. A dozen figures appeared over her side, and two or threeropes were thrown. John caught one, twisted it rapidly round Mary'sbody and his own, knotted it and, taking her in his arms, jumpedoverboard. Another minute they were drawn alongside the galley, andpulled on board. As soon as the ropes were unfastened, John rose tohis feet; but Mary lay, insensible, on the deck.
"Carry the damsel into the cabin," a man, who was evidently inauthority said. "She has fainted, but will soon come round. I willsee to her, myself."
The suddenness of the rescue, the plunge in the water, and thesudden revulsion of his feelings affected John so much that it wastwo or three minutes before he could speak.
"Come along with me, lad," one of the sailors said, laying his handon his shoulder. "Some dry clothes, and a draught of wine will setyou all right again; but you have had a narrow escape of it. Thatboat of yours was pretty nearly water logged and, in another fiveminutes, we should have been too late."
John hastily changed his clothes in the forecastle, took a draughtof wine, and then hurried back again towards the aft cabin. Just ashe reached it, the man who had ordered Mary to be carried in cameout.
"The damsel has opened her eyes," he said, "and you need not beuneasy about her. I have given her some woolen cloths, and bade hertake off her wet garments, and wrap herself in them.
"Why did you not make for the shore, before the tempest broke? Itwas foolish of you, indeed, to be out on the lake, when anyonecould see that this gale was coming."
"I was rowing down, and did not notice it until I turned," Johnreplied. "I was making for the shore, when the gale struck her."
"It was well, for you, that I noticed you. I was, myself, thinkingof making for the shore although, in so large and well-manned craftas this, there is little fear upon the lake. It is not like theGreat Sea; where I, myself, have seen a large ship as helpless,before the waves, as that small boat we picked you from.
"I had just set out from Tiberias, when I marked the storm comingup; but my business was urgent and, moreover, I marked your littleboat, and saw that you were not likely to gain the shore; so I badethe helmsman keep his eye on you, until the darkness fell upon us;and then to follow straight in your wake, for you could but runbefore the wind--and well he did it for, when we first caught sightof you, you were right ahead of us."
The speaker was a man of about thirty years of age; tall, and witha certain air of command.
"I thank you, indeed, sir," John said, "for saving my life; andthat of my cousin Mary, the daughter of my father's brother. Truly,my father and mother will be grateful to you, for having saved us;for I am their only son.
"Whom are they to thank for our rescue?"
"I am Joseph, the son of Matthias, to whom the Jews have intrustedthe governorship of this province."
"Josephus!" John exclaimed, in a tone of surprise and reverence.
"So men call me," Josephus replied, with a smile.
It was, indeed, the governor. Flavius Josephus, as the Romansafterwards called him, came of a noble Jewish family--his father,Matthias, belonging to the highest of the twenty-four classes intowhich the sacerdotal families were divided. Matthias was eminentfor his attainments, and piety; and had been one of the leading menin Jerusalem. From his youth, Josephus had carefully preparedhimself for public life, mastering the doctrines of the threeleading sects among the Jews--the Pharisees, Sadducees, andEssenes--and having spent three years in the desert, with Banus theAscetic. The fact that, at only twenty-six years of age, he hadgone as the leader of a deputation to Rome, on behalf of somepriests sent there by Felix, shows that he was early looked upon asa conspicuous person among the Jews; and he was but thirty when hewas intrusted with the important position of Governor of Galilee.
Contrary to the custom of the times, he had sought to make no gainfrom his position. He accepted neither presents, nor bribes; butdevoted himself entirely to ameliorating the condition of thepeople, and in repressing the turbulence of the lower classes ofthe great towns; and of the robber chieftains who, like John ofGischala, took advantage of the relaxation of authority, caused bythe successful rising against the Romans, to plunder and tyrannizeover the people.
The expression of the face of Josephus was lofty and, at the sametime, gentle. His temper was singularly equable and, whatever thecircumstances, he never gave way to anger, but kept his passionswell under control. His address was soft and winning, and he hadthe art of attracting respect and friendship from all who came incontact with him. Poppaea, the wife of Nero, had received him withmuch favor and, bravely as he fought against them, Vespasian andTitus were, afterwards, as much attached to him as were the Jews ofGalilee. There can be no doubt that, had he been otherwise placedthan as one of a people on the verge of destruction, Josephus wouldhave been one of the great figures of history.
John had been accustomed to hear his father and his friends speakin tones of such admiration for Josephus, as the man who wasregarded not only as the benefactor of the Jews of Galilee, but asthe leader and mainstay of the nation, that he had long ardentlydesired to see him; and to find that he had now been rescued fromdeath by him, and that he was now talking to him face to face,filled him with confusion.
"You are a brave lad," Josephus said, "for you kept your head well,in a time when older men might have lost their presence of mind.You must have kept your boat dead before the wind; and you werequick and ready, in seizing the rope and knotting it roundyourself, and the maid with you. I feared you might try and fastenit to the boat. If you had, full of water as she was, and fast aswe were sailing before the wind, the rope would barely have stoodthe strain."
"The clouds are breaking," the captain of the boat said, coming upto Josephus, "and I think that we are past the worst of the gale.And well it is so for, even in so staunch a craft, there is muchperil in such a sea as this."
The vessel, although one of the largest on the lake, was indeedpitching and rolling very heavily; but she was light and buoyantand, each time that she plunged bows under, as the following waveslifted her stern high in the air, she rose lightly again; andscarce a drop fell into her deep waist, the lofty erections, foreand aft, throwing off the water.
"Where do you belong, my lad?" Josephus asked. "I fear that it isimpossible for us to put you ashore, until we reach Capernaum; butonce there, I will see that you
are provided with means to take youhome."
"Our farm lies three miles above Hippos."
"That is unfortunate," Josephus said, "since it lies on theopposite side of the lake to Capernaum. However, we shall see. Ifthe storm goes down rapidly, I may be able to get a fishing boat totake you across, this evening; for your parents will be in soretrouble. If not, you must wait till early morning."
In another hour they reached Capernaum. The wind had, by this time,greatly abated; although the sea still ran high. The ship was soonalongside a landing jetty, which ran out a considerable distance,and formed a breakwater protecting the shipping from the heavy seawhich broke there when the wind was, as at present, from the south.
Mary came out from the cabin, as the vessel entered the harbor,wrapped up from head to foot in the woolen cloths with which shehad been furnished. John sprang to her side.
"Are you quite well, Mary?"
"Quite well," she said, "only very ashamed of having fainted, andvery uncomfortable in these wrappings. But, oh! John, how thankfulwe ought to be, to God, for having sent this ship to our aid, justwhen all seemed lost!"
"We ought, indeed, Mary. I have been thanking him, as I have beenstanding here watching the waves; and I am sure you have been doingthe same, in the cabin."
"Yes, indeed, John. But what am I to do, now? I do not like goingon shore like this, and the officer told me I was, on no account,to put on my wet clothes."
"Do you know, it is Josephus himself, Mary--think of that--thegreat Josephus, who has saved us! He marked our boat before thestorm broke and, seeing that we could not reach the shore, had hisvessel steered so as to overtake us."
Mary was too surprised to utter more than an exclamation. Thethought that the man, who had been talking so kindly and pleasantlyto her, was the great leader of whom she had heard so much, quitetook away her breath.
At that moment Josephus, himself, came up.
"I am glad to see you have got your color again, maiden," he said."I am just going to land. Do you, with your cousin, remain on boardhere. I will send a woman down, with some attire for you. She willconduct you both to the house where I shall be staying.
"The sea is going down, and the captain tells me that he thinks, inanother three or four hours, I shall be able to get a boat to sendyou across to your home. It will be late, but you will not mindthat; for they are sure not to retire to rest, at home, but to beup all night, searching for you."
A crowd had assembled on the jetty, for Josephus was expected, andthe violent storm had excited the fears of all for his safety; andthe leading inhabitants had all flocked down to welcome him, whenhis vessel was seen approaching.
"Isn't he kind and good?" Mary said, enthusiastically, as shewatched the greeting which he received, as he landed. "He talked tome, just as if he had been of my own family."
"He is grand!" John agreed, with equal enthusiasm. "He is just whatI pictured to myself that a great leader would be; such as Joshua,or Gideon, or the Prince of the Maccabees."
"Yes; but more gentle, John."
"Brave men should always be gentle," John said, positively.
"They ought to be, perhaps," Mary agreed, "but I don't think theyare."
They chatted, then, about the storm and the anxiety which theywould be feeling, at home; until an officer, accompanied by a womancarrying attire for Mary, came on board. Mary soon came out of thecabin, dressed; and the officer conducted them to the house whichhad been placed at the disposal of Josephus. The woman led them upto a room, where a meal had been prepared for them.
"Josephus is in council, with the elders," she said. "He bade mesee that you had all that you required. He has arranged that a barkshall start with you, as soon as the sea goes down; but if, byeight o'clock, it is still too rough, I shall take the maiden hometo my house, to sleep; and they will arouse you, as soon as it issafe to put out, whatever the hour may be, as your friends will bein great anxiety concerning you."
The sun had already set and, just as they finished their meal, theman belonging to the boat came to say that it would be midnightbefore he could put out.
Mary then went over with the woman; and John lay down on some mats,to sleep, until it was time to start. He slept soundly, until hewas aroused by the entry of someone, with lights. He started to hisfeet, and found that it was Josephus, himself, with an attendant.
"I had not forgotten you," he said, "but I have been, until now, incouncil. It is close upon midnight, and the boat is in readiness. Ihave sent to fetch the damsel, and have bidden them take plenty ofwarm wraps, so that the night air may do her no harm."
Mary soon arrived; and Josephus, himself, went down with them tothe shore, and saw them on board the boat--which was a large one,with eight rowers. The wind had died away to a gentle breeze, andthe sea had gone down greatly. The moon was up, and the starsshining brightly. Josephus chatted kindly to John, as they madetheir way down to the shore.
"Tell your father," he said, "that I hope he will come over to seeme, ere long; and that I shall bear you in mind. The time is comingwhen every Jew who can bear arms will be needed in the service ofhis country and, if your father consents, I will place you near myperson; for I have seen that you are brave and cool, in danger, andyou will have plenty of opportunities of winning advancement."
With many thanks for his kindness, John and Mary took their placesin the stern of the boat. Mary enveloped herself in the wraps thathad been prepared for her, for the nights were chilly. Then thesail was hoisted, and the boat sailed away from the land. The windhad shifted round, somewhat, to the west, and they were able to laytheir course across towards Hippos; but their progress was slow,and the master bade the crew get out their oars, and aid the sail.
In three hours they neared the land, John pointing out the exactposition of the village; which was plainly enough marked out, by agreat fire blazing on the shore. As they approached it, they couldsee several figures and, presently, there came a shout, which Johnrecognized as that of Isaac.
"Any news?"
"Here we are, Isaac, safe and well."
There was a confused sound, of shouts and cries of pleasure. In afew minutes, the boat grated on the shallow shore. The moment shedid so, John leaped out over the bow and waded ashore, and was atonce clasped in his mother's arms; while one of the fishermencarried Mary to the land. She received, from Martha, a full shareof her caresses; for she loved the girl almost as dearly as she didher son. Then Miriam and the maids embraced and kissed her, whileIsaac folded John in his arms.
"The God of Israel be thanked and praised, my children!" Marthaexclaimed. "He has brought you back to us, as from the dead, for wenever thought to see you again. Some of the fishermen returned, andtold us that they saw your boat, far on the lake, before the stormburst; and none held out hope that you could have weathered such astorm."
"Where is father?" John asked.
"He is out on the lake, as are all the fishermen of the village,searching for you.
"That reminds me, Isaac, set fire to the other piles of wood thatwe have prepared.
"If one of the boats returned, with any sure news of you, we wereto light them to call the others back--one fire if the news wasbad, two if it was good--but we hardly even dared to hope that thesecond would be required."
A brand from the fire was soon applied to the other piles, and thethree fires shone out across the lake, with the good news. In aquarter of an hour a boat was seen approaching, and soon came ashout:
"Is all well?"
"All is well," John shouted, in reply, and soon he was clasped inhis father's arms.
The other boats came in, one by one; the last to arrive towing inthe boat--which had been found, bottom upwards, far up the lake,its discovery destroying the last hope of its late occupants beingfound alive.
As soon as Simon landed, the party returned to the house. Miriamand the maids hurried to prepare a meal--of which all were sorelyin need, for no food had been eaten since the gale burst on thelake; while their three hours in t
he boat had again sharpened theappetite of John and Mary. A quantity of food was cooked, and askin of old wine brought up from the cellar; and Isaac remaineddown on the shore, to bid all who had been engaged in the searchcome up and feast, as soon as they landed.
John related to his parents the adventure which had befallen them,and they wondered greatly at the narrowness of their deliverance.When the feasting was over, Simon called all together, and solemnlyreturned thanks to God for the mercies which He had given them. Itwas broad daylight before all sought their beds, for a few hours,before beginning the work of the day.
A week later Josephus himself came to Hippos, bringing with him twonobles, who had fled from King Agrippa and sought refuge with him.He had received them hospitably, and had allotted a home to them atTarichea, where he principally dwelt.
He had, just before, had another narrow escape, for six hundredarmed men--robbers and others--had assembled round his house,charging him with keeping some spoils which had been taken, by aparty of men of that town, from the wife of Ptolemy--King Agrippa'sprocurator--instead of dividing them among the people. For a time,he pacified them by telling them that this money was destined forstrengthening the walls of their town, and for walling other townsat present undefended; but the leaders of the evildoers weredetermined to set his house on fire, and slay him.
He had but twenty armed men with him. Closing the doors, he went toan upper room, and told the robbers to send in one of their numberto receive the money. Directly he entered, the door was closed. Oneof his hands was cut off, and hung round his neck; and he was thenturned out again. Believing that Josephus would not have venturedto act so boldly, had he not had a large body of armed men withhim, the crowd were seized with panic and fled to their homes.
After this, the enemies of Josephus persuaded the people that thenobles he had sheltered were wizards; and demanded that they shouldbe given up to be slain, unless they would change their religion tothat of the Jews. Josephus tried to argue them out of their belief,saying that there were no such things as wizards and, if the Romanshad wizards who could work them wrong, they would not need to sendan army to fight against them; but as the people still clamored, hegot the men privately on board a ship, and sailed across the lakewith them to Hippos; where he dismissed them, with many presents.
As soon as the news came that Josephus had come to Hippos, Simonset out with Martha, John, and Mary, to see him. Josephus receivedthem kindly, and would permit no thanks for what he had done.
"Your son is a brave youth," he said to Simon, "and I would gladlyhave him near me, if you would like to have it so. This is a timewhen there are greater things than planting vineyards, andgathering in harvests, to be done; and there is a need for braveand faithful men. If, then, you and your wife will give the lad tome, I will see to him, and keep him near me. I have need offaithful men with me, for my enemies are ever trying to slay me. Ifall goes well with the lad, he will have a good opportunity ofrising to honor.
"What say you? Do not give an answer hastily, but think it overamong yourselves and, if you agree to my proposal, send him acrossthe lake to me."
"It needs no thought, sir," Simon said. "I know well that there aremore urgent things, now, than sowing and reaping; and that muchtrouble and peril threaten the land. Right glad am I that my sonshould serve one who is the hope of Israel, and his mother will notgrudge him for such service. As to advancement, I wish nothingbetter than that he should till the land of his fathers; but nonecan say what the Lord has in store for us, or whether strangers maynot reap what I have sown. Thus, then, the wisdom which he willgain, in being with you, is likely to be a far better inheritancethan any I can give him.
"What say you, Martha?"
"I say as you do, Simon. It will grieve me to part with him, but Iknow that such an offer as that which my lord Josephus makes isgreatly for his good. Moreover, the manner in which he was savedfrom death seems to show that the Lord has something for his handto do, and that his path is specially marked out for him. To refuseto let him go would be to commit the sin of withstanding God--
"Therefore, my lord, I willingly give up my son to follow you."
"I think that you have decided wisely," Josephus said. "I tarryhere, for tonight, and tomorrow cross to Tiberias; therefore, lethim be here by noon."
Mary was the most silent of the party, on the way home. Simon andhis wife felt convinced the decision they had made was a wise oneand, although they were not ambitious, they yet felt that the offerof Josephus was a most advantageous one, and opened a career ofhonor to their son.
John, himself, was in a state of the highest delight. To be aboutthe person of Josephus seemed, to him, the greatest honor andhappiness. It opened the way to the performance of great actions,which would bring honor to his father's name; and although he hadbeen, hitherto, prepared to settle down to the life of a cultivatorof the soil, he had had his yearnings for one of more excitementand adventure; and these were now likely to be gratified, to thefullest.
Mary, however, felt the approaching loss of her friend and playmategreatly, though even she was not insensible to the honor which theoffer of Josephus conferred upon him.
"You don't seem glad of my good fortune, Mary," John said as, afterthey returned home, they strolled together, as usual, down to theedge of the lake.
"It may be your good fortune, but it's not mine," the girl said,pettishly. "It will be very dull here, without you. I know what itwill be. Your mother will always be full of anxiety, and will befretting whenever we get news of any disturbances; and that isoften enough, for there seem to be disturbances, continually. Yourfather will go about silently, Miriam will be sharper than usualwith the maids, and everything will go wrong. I can't see why youcouldn't have said that, in a year or two, you would go with thegovernor; but that, at present, you thought you had better stopwith your own people."
"A nice milksop he would have thought me!" John laughed. "No, if hethought I was man enough to do him service, it would have been anice thing for me to say that I thought I was too young.
"Besides, Mary, after all it is your good fortune, as well as mine;for is it not settled that you are to share it? Josephus is allpowerful and, if I please him and do my duty, he can, in time,raise me to a position of great honor. I may even come to be thegovernor of a town, or a captain over troops, or a councilor."
"No, no!" Mary laughed, "not a councilor, John. A governor,perhaps; and a captain, perhaps; but never, I should say, acouncilor."
John laughed good temperedly.
"Well, Mary, then you shall look forward to be the wife of agovernor, or captain; but you see, I might even fill the place of acouncilor with credit, because I could always come to you foradvice before, I give an opinion--then I should be sure to beright.
"But, seriously, Mary, I do think it great honor to have had suchan offer made me, by the governor."
"Seriously, so do I, John; though I wish, in my heart, he had notmade it. I had looked forward to living here, all my life, just asyour mother has done; and now there will be nothing fixed to lookforward to.
"Besides, where there is honor, there is danger. There seem to bealways tumults, always conspiracies--and then, as your father says,above all there are the Romans to be reckoned with and, of course,if you are near Josephus you run a risk, going wherever he does."
"I shall never be in greater risk, Mary, than we were, together, onthe lake the other day. God helped us, then, and brought us throughit; and I have faith that He will do so, again. It may be that I ammeant to do something useful, before I die. At any rate, when theRomans come, everyone will have to fight; so I shall be in nogreater danger than any one else."
"I know, John, and I am not speaking quite in earnest. I am sorryyou are going--that is only natural--but I am proud that you are tobe near our great leader, and I believe that our God will be yourshield and protector.
"And now, we had better go in. Your father will, doubtless, havemuch to say to you, this evening; and your mother will grudge ev
eryminute you are out of her sight."