itlooked like a covered walk in a beautiful flower-garden. The ceiling washidden by creeping vines hung with thick clusters of luscious grapes,and alongside the walls, and against the pillars stood small pomegranatetrees, laden with ripe fruit. The floors were strewn with rose-leaves,lying thick and soft like a carpet. And all along the balustrades, thecornices, the tables, and the low divans, ran garlands of lustrous whitelilies.
Here and there in this flower garden stood great marble basins whereglittering gold and silver fish played in the transparent water.Multi-colored birds from distant lands sat in the trees, and in a cagesat an old raven that chattered incessantly.
When the festival began children and mothers filed into the gallery.Immediately after they had entered the palace, the children were arrayedin white dresses with purple borders and were given wreaths of roses fortheir dark, curly heads. The women came in, regal, in their crimson andblue robes, and their white veils, which hung in long, loose folds fromhigh-peaked head-dresses, adorned with gold coins and chains. Somecarried their children mounted upon their shoulders; others led theirsons by the hand; some, again, whose children were afraid or shy, hadtaken them up in their arms.
The women seated themselves on the floor of the gallery. As soon as theyhad taken their places, slaves came in and placed before them lowtables, which they spread with the choicest of foods and wines--asbefitting a King's feast--and all these happy mothers began to eat anddrink, maintaining all the while that proud, graceful dignity, which isthe greatest ornament of the Bethlehem women.
Along the farthest wall of the gallery, and almost hidden byflower-garlands and fruit trees, was stationed a double line of soldiersin full armor. They stood, perfectly immovable, as if they had noconcern with that which went on around them. The women could not refrainfrom casting a questioning glance, now and then, at this troop ofiron-clad men. "For what are they needed here?" they whispered. "DoesHerod think we women do not know how to conduct ourselves? Does hebelieve it is necessary for so many soldiers to guard us?"
But others whispered that this was as it should be in a King's home.Herod himself never gave a banquet without having his house filled withsoldiers. It was to honor them that the heavily armored warriors stoodthere on guard.
During the first few moments of the feast, the children felt timid anduncertain, and sat quietly beside their mothers. But soon they began tomove about and take possession of all the good things which Herodoffered them.
It was an enchanted land that the King had created for his littleguests. When they wandered through the gallery, they found bee-hiveswhose honey they could pillage without the interference of a singlecrotchety bee. They found trees which, bending, lowered theirfruit-laden branches down to them. In a corner they found magicians who,on the instant, conjured their pockets full of toys; and in anothercorner they discovered a wild-beast tamer who showed them a pair oftigers, so tame that they could ride them.
But in this paradise with all its joys there was nothing which soattracted the attention of these little ones as the long line ofsoldiers who stood immovable at the extreme end of the gallery. Theireyes were captivated by their shining helmets, their stern, haughtyfaces, and their short swords, which reposed in richly jeweled sheaths.
All the while, as they played and romped with one another, they thoughtcontinually about the soldiers. They still held themselves at adistance, but they longed to get near the men to see if they were aliveand really could move themselves.
The play and festivities increased every moment, but the soldiers stoodall the while immovable. It seemed incredible to the little ones thatpeople could stand so near the clusters of grapes and all the otherdainties, without reaching out a hand to take them.
Finally, there was one boy who couldn't restrain his curiosity anylonger. Slowly, but prepared for hasty retreat, he approached one of thearmored men; and when he remained just as rigid and motionless, thechild came nearer and nearer. At last he was so close to him that hecould touch his shoe latchets and his shins.
Then--as though this had been an unheard-of crime--all at once theseiron-men set themselves in motion. With indescribable fury they threwthemselves upon the children, and seized them! Some swung them overtheir heads, like missiles, and flung them between lamps and garlandsover the balustrade and down to the court, where they were killed theinstant they struck the stone pavement. Others drew their swords andpierced the children's hearts; others, again, crushed their headsagainst the walls before they threw them down into the dark courtyard.
The first moment after the onslaught, there was an ominous stillness.While the tiny bodies still swayed in the air, the women were petrifiedwith amazement! But simultaneously all these unhappy mothers awoke tounderstand what had happened, and with one great cry they rushed towardthe soldiers. There were still a few children left up in the gallery whohad not been captured during the first attack. The soldiers pursued themand their mothers threw themselves in front of them and clutched withbare hands the naked swords, to avert the death-blow. Several women,whose children were already dead, threw themselves upon the soldiers,clutched them by the throat, and sought to avenge the death of theirlittle ones by strangling their murderers.
During this wild confusion, while fearful shrieks rang through thepalace, and the most inhuman death cruelties were being enacted, thesoldier who was wont to stand on guard at the city gate stood motionlessat the head of the stairs which led down from the gallery. He took nopart in the strife and the murder: only against the women who hadsucceeded in snatching their children and tried to fly down the stairswith them did he lift his sword. And just the sight of him, where hestood, grim and inflexible, was so terrifying that the fleeing oneschose rather to cast themselves over the balustrade or turn back intothe heat of the struggle, than risk the danger of crowding past him.
"Voltigius certainly did the right thing when he gave _me_ this post,"thought the soldier. "A young and thoughtless warrior would have lefthis place and rushed into the confusion. If I had let myself be temptedaway from here, ten children at least would have escaped."
While he was thinking of this, a young woman, who had snatched up herchild, came rushing towards him in hurried flight. None of the warriorswhom she had to pass could stop her, because they were in the midst ofthe struggle with other women, and in this way she had reached the endof the gallery.
"Ah, there's one who is about to escape!" thought the soldier. "Neithershe nor the child is wounded."
The woman came toward the soldier with such speed that she appeared tobe flying, and he didn't have time to distinguish the features of eitherthe woman or her child. He only pointed his sword at them, and thewoman, with the child in her arms, dashed against it. He expected thatthe next second both she and the child would fall to the ground piercedthrough and through.
But just then the soldier heard an angry buzzing over his head, and thenext instant he felt a sharp pain in one eye. It was so intense that hewas stunned, bewildered, and the sword dropped from his hand. He raisedhis hand to his eye and caught hold of a bee, and understood that thatwhich caused this awful suffering was only the sting of the tinycreature. Quick as a flash, he stooped down and picked up his sword, inthe hope that as yet it was not too late to intercept the runaways.
But the little bee had done its work very well.
During the short time that the soldier was blinded, the young mother hadsucceeded in rushing past him and down the stairs; and although hehurried after her with all haste, he could not find her. She hadvanished; and in all that great palace there was no one who coulddiscover any trace of her.
The following morning, the soldier, together with several of hiscomrades, stood on guard, just within the city gate. The hour was early,and the city gates had only just been opened. But it appeared as thoughno one had expected that they would be opened that morning; for nothrongs of field laborers streamed out of the city, as they usually didof a morning. All the Bethlehem inhabitants were so filled with terrorover the night's bloodshed that no one
dared to leave his home.
"By my sword!" said the soldier, as he stood and stared down the narrowstreet which led toward the gate, "I believe Voltigius has made a stupidblunder. It would have been better had he kept the gates closed andordered a thorough search of every house in the city, until he had foundthe boy who managed to escape from the feast. Voltigius expects that hisparents will try to get him away from here as soon as they learn thatthe gates are open. I fear this is not a wise calculation. How easilythey could conceal a child!"
He wondered if they would try to hide the child in a fruit basket or insome huge oil cask, or amongst the grain-bales of a caravan.
While he stood there on the watch for any attempt to deceive him in thisway, he saw a man and a woman who came hurriedly down the street andwere nearing the gate. They walked rapidly and cast anxious looks behindthem, as though they were fleeing from some danger. The man held an axin his hand with