CHAPTER XII
THE RING, THE NECKLACE AND THE LETTER
So Miriam came to Tyre, where, for many months, her life was peacefuland happy enough. At first she had feared meeting Caleb, who she knewfrom her grandfather was dwelling there; but as it chanced, he had leftthe city upon business of his own, so for the while she was free of him.In Tyre were many Christians with whom she made friends and worshipped,Benoni pretending to know nothing of the matter. Indeed, at this timeand place it was the Jews rather than the Christians who were in dangerat the hands of the Syrians and Greeks, who hated them for their wealthand faith, threatening them continually with robbery and massacre. Butas yet that storm did not burst, and in its brewing the Christians, whowere few, humble, and of all races, escaped notice.
Thus it came about that Miriam dwelt in quiet, occupying herself muchwith her art of modelling and going abroad but little, since it wasscarcely safe for her, the grandchild of the rich Jew merchant, to showher face in the streets. Though she was surrounded by every luxury, farmore than she needed, indeed, this lack of liberty irked her who hadbeen reared in the desert, till at times she grew melancholy and wouldsit for hours looking on the sea and thinking. She thought of her motherwho had sat thus before her; of her father, who had perished beneath thegladiators' swords; of the kindly old men who had nurtured her, and ofthe sufferings of her brothers and sisters in the faith in Rome and atJerusalem. But most of all she thought of Marcus, her Roman lover, whom,strive as she would, she could never forget--no, not for a single hour.She loved him, that was the truth of it, and between them there was agreat gulf fixed, not of the sea only, which ships could sail, but ofthat command which the dead had laid upon her. He was a pagan and shewas a Christian, and they might not wed. By now, too, it was likely thathe had forgotten her, the girl who took his fancy in the desert. At Romethere were many noble and lovely women--oh! she could scarcely bear tothink of it. Yet night by night she prayed for him, and morn by mornhis face arose before her half-awakened eyes. Where was he? What was hedoing? For aught she knew he might be dead. Nay, for then, surely, herheart would have warned her. Still, she craved for tidings, and alas!there were none.
At length tidings did come--the best of tidings. One day, wearyingof the house, with the permission of her grandfather, and escorted byservants, Miriam had gone to walk in the gardens that he owned tothe north of that part of the city on the mainland, which was calledPalaetyrus. They were lovely gardens, well watered and running down tothe sea-edge, and in them grew beautiful palms and other trees, withfruitful shrubs and flowers. Here, when they had roamed a while, Miriamand Nehushta sat down upon the fallen column of some old temple andrested. Suddenly they heard a footstep, and Miriam looked up to seebefore her a Roman officer, clad in a cloak that showed signs ofsea-travel, and, guiding him, one of Benoni's servants.
The officer, a rough but kindly looking man of middle age, bowed to her,asking in Greek if he spoke to the lady Miriam, the granddaughter ofBenoni the Jew, she who had been brought up among the Essenes.
"Sir, I am she," answered Miriam.
"Then, lady, I, who am named Gallus, have an errand to perform"; anddrawing from his robe a letter tied with silk and sealed, and with theletter a package, he handed them to her.
"Who sends these?" she asked, hope shining in her eyes, "and whence comethey?"
"From Rome, lady, as fast as sails could waft them and me. And thesender is the noble Marcus, called the Fortunate."
"Oh!" said Miriam, blushing to her eyes, "tell me, sir, is he well?"
"Not so well but that such a look as that, lady, would better him, orany other man, could he be here to see it," answered the Roman, gazingat her with admiration.
"Did you then leave him ill? I do not understand."
"Nay, his health seemed sound, and his uncle Caius being dead his wealthcan scarce be counted, or so they say, since the old man made him hisheir. Perhaps that is why the divine Nero has taken such a fancy to himthat he can scarce leave the palace. Therefore I cannot say that Marcusis well to-day, since sometimes Nero's friends are short-lived. Nay,be not frightened, I did but jest; your Marcus is safe enough. Read theletter, lady, and waste no time. As for me, my mission is fulfilled.Thank me not; it is reward enough to have seen that sweet face of yours.Fortunate indeed is the star of Marcus, and, though I am jealous ofthe man, for your sake I pray that it may lead him back to you. Lady,farewell."
"Cut the silk, Nou," said Miriam when the Captain Gallus had gone."Quick. I have no knife."
Nehushta obeyed smiling and the letter was unrolled. It, or those partsof it which concern us, ran thus:
"To the lady Miriam, from Marcus the Roman, her friend, by the hand ofthe Captain Gallus.
"Dear friend and lady, greeting. Already since I came here I havewritten you one letter, but this day news has reached me that the shipwhich bore it foundered off the coast of Sicily. So, as Neptune has thatletter, and with it many good men, although I write more ill than I domost things, I send you another by this occasion, hoping, I who am vain,that you have not forgotten me, and that the reading of it may even giveyou pleasure. Most dear Miriam, know that I accomplished my voyage toRome in safety, visiting your grandsire on the way to pay him a debt Iowed. But that story you will perhaps have heard.
"From Tyre I sailed for Italy, but was cast away upon the coasts ofMelita, where many of us were drowned. By the favour of some god,however--ah! what god I wonder--I escaped, and taking another ship camesafely to Brundisium, whence I travelled as fast as horses would carryme to Rome. Here I arrived but just in time, for I found my uncle Caiusvery will. Believing, moreover, that I had been drowned in the shipwreckat Melita, he was about to make a will bequeathing his property to theEmperor Nero, but by good fortune of this he had said nothing. Had hedone so I should, I think, be as poor to-day as when I left you,dear, and perhaps poorer still, for I might have lost my head with myinheritance.
"As it was I found favour in the sight of my uncle Caius, who a weekafter my arrival executed a formal testament leaving to me all his land,goods, and moneys, which on his death three months later I inherited.Thus I have become rich--so rich that now, having much money to spend,by some perversity which I cannot explain, I have grown careful andspend as little as possible. After I had entered into my inheritance Imade a plan to return to Judaea, for one reason and one alone--to be nearto you, most sweet Miriam. At the last moment I was stayed by a veryevil chance. That bust which you made of me I had managed to save fromthe shipwreck and bring safe to Rome--now I wish it was at the bottom ofthe sea, and you shall learn why.
"When I came into possession of this house in the Via Agrippa, which islarge and beautiful, I set it in a place of honour in the antechamberand summoned that sculptor, Glaucus, of whom I have spoken to you, andothers who follow the art, to come and pass judgment upon the work. Theycame, they wondered and they were silent, for each of them feared lestin praising it he should exalt some rival. When, however, I told themthat it was the work of a lady in Judaea, although they did not believeme, since all of them declared that no woman had shaped that marble,knowing that they had nothing to fear from so distant an artist whoeverhe might be, they began to praise the work with one voice, and all thatevening until the wine overcame them, talked of nothing else. Also theycontinued talking on the morrow, until at length the fame of the thingcame to the ears of Nero, who also is an artist of music and otherthings. The end of it was that one day, without warning, the Emperorvisited my house and demanded to see the bust, which I showed to him.For many minutes he examined it through the emerald with which he aidshis sight, then asked:
"'What land had the honour to bear the genius who wrought this work?'
"I answered, 'Judaea,' a country, by the way, of which he seemed to knowlittle, except that some fanatics dwelt there, who refused to worshiphim. He said that he would make that artist ruler of Judaea. I repliedthat the artist was a woman, whereon he answered that he carednothing--she should still rule Judaea, or if this
could not be managed hewould send and bring her to Rome to make a statue of him to be set up inthe Temple at Jerusalem for the Jews to worship.
"Now I saw that I had been foolish, and knowing well what would havebeen your fate, my Miriam, had he once set eyes on you, I sighed andanswered, that alas! it was impossible, since you were dead, as I provedto him by a long story with which I will not trouble you. Moreover, nowthat he was sure that you were dead, I showed him the little statuetteof yourself looking into water, which you gave me. Whereon he burstinto tears, at the thought that such an one had departed from the earth,while it was still cursed with so many who are wicked, old and ugly.
"Still he did not go, but remained admiring the bust, till at length oneof his favourites who accompanied him, whispered in my ear that I mustpresent it to the Emperor. I refused, whereon he whispered back that ifI did not, assuredly before long it would be taken, and with it all myother goods, and, perhaps, my life. So, since I must, I changed my mindand prayed him to accept it; whereon he embraced, first the marble andthen me, and caused it to be borne away then and there, leaving me madwith rage.
"Now I tell you all this silly story for a reason, since it has hinderedand still hinders me from leaving Rome. Thus: two days later I receivedan Imperial decree, in which it was stated that the incomparable work ofart brought from Judaea by Marcus, the son of Emilius, had been set upin a certain temple, where those who would please their Emperor weredesired to present themselves and worship it and the soul of her bywhom it was fashioned. Moreover, it was commanded that I, Marcus, whosefeatures had served as a model for the work, should be its guardian andattend twice weekly in the temple, that all might see how the genius ofa great artist is able to make a thing of immortal beauty from a coarseoriginal of flesh and blood. Oh, Miriam, I have no patience to write ofthis folly, yet the end of it is, that except at the cost of my fortuneand the risk of my life, it is impossible for me to leave Rome. Twiceevery week, or by special favour, once only, must I attend in thataccursed temple where my own likeness stands upon a pedestal of marble,and before it a marble altar, on which are cut the words: 'Sacrifice, Opasser-by, to the spirit of the departed genius who wrought this divinework.'
"Yes, there I sit, I who am a soldier, while fools come in and gazefirst at the marble and then at me, saying things for which often I longto kill them, and casting grains of incense into the little fire on thealtar in sacrifice to your spirit, whereby I trust it may be benefited.Thus, Miriam, are we ruled in Rome to-day.
"Meanwhile, I am in great favour with Nero, so that men call me 'theFortunate,' and my house the 'Fortunate House,' a title of ill-omen.
"Yet out of this evil comes some good, since because of his presentaffection for me, or my bust, I have now and again for your sake,Miriam, been able to do service, even to the saving of their lives,to those of your faith. Here there are many Christians whom it is anamusement to Nero to persecute, torture, and slay, sometimes by soakingthem in tar and making of them living torches to illuminate his gardens,and sometimes in other fashions. The lives of sundry of these poorpeople he has given to me, when I begged them of him. Indeed, he hasdone more. Yesterday Nero came himself to the temple and suggested thatcertain of the Christians should be sacrificed in a very cruel fashionhere as an offering to your spirit. I answered that this could give itlittle pleasure, seeing that in your lifetime you also were a Christian.Thereon he wrung his hands, crying out, 'Oh! what a crime have Icommitted,' and instantly gave orders that no more Christians should bekilled. So for a little while, thanks to your handiwork, and to me whoam called 'the Model,' they are safe--those who are left of them.
"I hear that there are wars and tumults in Judaea, and that Vespasian,a great general, is to be sent to quell them. If I can I will come withhim, but at present--such is the madness of my master--this is too muchto hope, unless, indeed, he wearies suddenly of the 'Divine Work' andits attendant 'Model.'
"Meanwhile I also cast incense upon your altar, and pray that in thesetroubles you may come to no harm.
"Miriam, I am most unhappy. I think of you always and yet I cannot cometo you. I picture you in many dangers, and I am not there to save you. Ieven dare to hope that you would wish to see me again; but it is theJew Caleb, and other men, who see you and make offerings to your sweetbeauty as I make them to your spirit. I beseech you, Miriam, do notaccept the offerings, lest in some day to come, when I am once more asoldier, and have ceased to be a custodian of busts, it should be theworse for those worshippers, and especially for Caleb.
"What else have I to tell you? I have sought out some of the greatpreachers of your faith, hoping that by the magic whereof they are saidto be masters, they would be able to assure me of your welfare. Butto my sorrow they gave me no magic--in which it seems they do notdeal--only maxims. Also, from these I bought for a great sum certainmanuscripts written by themselves containing the doctrines of your law,which I intend to study so soon as I have time. Indeed, this is a taskwhich I wish to postpone, since did I read I might believe and turnChristian, to serve in due course as a night-light in Nero's gardens.
"I send you a present, praying that you will accept it. The emerald inthe ring is cut by my friend, the sculptor Glaucus. The pearls are fineand have a history which I hope to tell you some day. Wear them always,beloved Miriam, for my sake. I do not forget your words; nay, I ponderthem day and night. But at least you said you loved me, and in wearingthese trinkets you break no duty to the dead. Write to me, I pray you,if you can find a messenger. Or, if you cannot write, think of me alwaysas I do of you. Oh, that we were back together in that happy village ofthe Essenes, to whom, as to yourself, be all good fortune! Farewell.
"Your ever faithful friend and lover,
"Marcus."
Miriam finished her letter, kissed it, and hid it in her bosom. Then sheopened the packet and unlocked the ivory box within by a key that hungto it. Out of the casket she took a roll of soft leather. This she undidand uttered a little cry of joy, for there lay a necklace of the mostlovely pearls that she had ever seen. Nor was this all, for threadedon the pearls was a ring, and cut upon its emerald bezel the head ofMarcus, and her own head taken from the likeness she had given him.
"Look! Nou, look!" said Miriam, showing her the beauteous trinkets.
"A sight to make old eyes glisten," answered Nehushta handling them. "Iknow something of pearls, and these are worth a fortune. Happy maid, towhom is given such a lover."
"Unhappy maid who can never be a happy wife," sighed Miriam, her blueeyes filling with tears.
"Grieve not; that still may chance," answered Nehushta, as she fastenedthe pearls about Miriam's neck. "At least you have heard from him andhe still loves you, which is much. Now for the ring--the marriagefinger--see, how it fits."
"Nay, I have no right," murmured Miriam; still she did not draw it offagain.
"Come, let us be going," said Nehushta, hiding the casket in her amblerobe, "for the sun sinks, and to-night there are guests to supper."
"What guests?" asked Miriam absently.
"Plotters, every one," said Nehushta, shrugging her shoulders. "Thegreat scheme to drive the Romans from the Holy City ripens fast, andyour grandsire waters its root. I pray that we may not all of us gatherbitter grapes from that vine. Have you heard that Caleb is back inTyre?"
"Caleb!" faltered Miriam, "No."
"Well, he is. He arrived yesterday and will be among the gueststo-night. He has been fighting up in the desert there, and bravely, forI am told that he was one of those who seized the fortress of Masada andput its Roman garrison to the sword."
"Then he is against the Romans?"
"Yes, because he hopes to rule the Jews, and risks much to gain more."
"I do not wish to meet him," said Miriam.
"Nay, but you must, and the sooner the better. Why do you fear the man?"
"I know not, but fear him I do, now and always."