Read Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem Page 18


  CHAPTER XIV

  THE ESSENES FIND THEIR QUEEN AGAIN

  They went on towards the gates of the Temple, but many a long day wasdestined to go by ere Miriam reached them. The entrance by which theywere told they must approach if they sought speech of the high priest,was one of the two Huldah Gates on the south side of the Royal Cloister,and thither they came across the valley of Tyropaeon. As they drew nearto them of a sudden that gate which stood most to the east was flungwide, and out of it issued a thousand or more of armed men, like antsfrom a broken nest, who, shouting and waving swords, rushed towardstheir company. As it chanced, at the moment they were in the centreof an open space that once had been covered with houses but was nowcumbered with hundreds of blackened and tottering walls, for fire haddevoured them.

  "It is the men of John who attack us," cried a voice, whereon, moved bya common impulse, the little band turned and fled for shelter among theruined houses; yes, even Caleb and Benoni fled.

  Before they reached them, lo! from these crumbling walls that they hadthought untenanted save by wandering dogs, out rushed another body ofsavage warriors, the men of Simon who held the Lower City.

  After this, Miriam knew little of what happened. Swords and spearsflashed round her, the factions fell upon each other, slaughteringeach other. She saw Caleb cut down one of the soldiers of John, to beinstantly assaulted in turn by a soldier of Simon, since all desiredto kill, but none cared whom they slew. She saw her grandfather rollingover and over on the ground in the grip of a man who looked like apriest; she saw women and children pierced with spears. Then Nehushtaseized her by the hand, and plunging a knife into the arm of a man whowould have stayed them, dragged her away. They fled, an arrow sang pasther ear; something struck her on the foot. Still they fled, whither sheknew not, till at length the sound of the tumult died away. But not yetwould Nehushta stop, for she feared that they might be followed. So onthey went, and on, meeting few and heeded by none, till at length Miriamsank to the ground, worn out with fear and flight.

  "Up," said Nehushta.

  "I cannot," she answered. "Something has hurt my foot. See, it bleeds!"

  Nehushta looked about her, and saw that they were outside the secondwall in the new city of Bezetha, not far from the old Damascus Gate, forthere, to their right and a little behind them, rose the great tower ofAntonia. Beneath this wall were rubbish-heaps, foul-smelling and coveredover with rough grasses and some spring flowers, which grew upon theslopes of the ancient fosse. Here seemed a place where they might liehid awhile, since there were no houses and it was unsavoury. She draggedMiriam to her feet, and, notwithstanding her complaints and swollenankle, forced her on, till they came to a spot where, as it is to-day,the wall was built upon foundations of living rock, roughly shaped,and lined with crevices covered by tall weeds. To one of these crevicesNehushta brought Miriam, and, seating her on a bed of grass, examinedher foot, which seemed to have been bruised by a stone from a sling.Having no water with which to wash the bleeding hurt, she made apoultice of crushed herbs and tied it about the ankle with a strip oflinen. Even before she had finished her task, so exhausted was Miriamthat she fell fast asleep. Nehushta watched her a while, wonderingwhat they should do next, till, in that lonely place bathed by the warmspring sun, she also began to doze.

  Suddenly she awoke with a start, having dreamed that she saw a man withwhite face and beard peering at them from behind a rough angle of rock.She stared: there was the rock as she had dreamed of it, but no man.She looked upward. Above them, piled block upon gigantic block, rose thewall, towering and impregnable. Thither he could not have gone, sinceon it only a lizard could find foothold. Nor was he anywhere else, forthere was no cover; so she decided that he must have been some searcherof the rubbish-heap, who, seeing them hidden in the tall grasses, hadfled away. Miriam was still sound asleep, and in her weariness presentlyNehushta again began to doze, till at length--it may have been one hourlater, or two or three, she knew not--some sound disturbed her.Opening her eyes, once more behind that ridge of rock she saw, not onewhite-bearded face, but two, staring at her and Miriam. As she sat upthey vanished. She remained still, pretending to sleep, and again theyappeared, scanning her closely and whispering to each other in eagertones. Suddenly one of the faces turned a little so that the light fellon it. Now Nehushta knew why in her dream it had seemed familiar, and inher heart thanked God.

  "Brother Ithiel," she said in a quiet voice, "why do you hide like aconey in these rocks?"

  Both heads disappeared, but the sound of whispering continued. Then oneof them rose again among the green grasses as a man might rise out ofwater. It was Ithiel's.

  "It is indeed you, Nehushta?" said his well-remembered voice.

  "Who else?" she asked.

  "And that lady who sleeps at your side?"

  "Once they called her Queen of the Essenes; now she is a huntedfugitive, waiting to be massacred by Simon, or John, or Eleazer, orZealots, or Sicarii, or any other of the holy cut-throats who inhabitthis Holy City," answered Nehushta bitterly.

  Ithiel raised his hands as though in thankfulness, then said:

  "Hush! hush! Here the very birds are spies. Brother, creep to that rockand look if any men are moving."

  The Essene obeyed, and answered, "None; and they cannot see us from thewall."

  Ithiel motioned to him to return.

  "Does she sleep sound?" he asked of Nehushta, pointing to Miriam.

  "Like the dead."

  Then, after another whispered conference, the pair of them crept roundthe angle of the rock. Bidding Nehushta follow them, they lifted thesleeping Miriam, and carried her between them through a dense growth ofshrubs to another rock. Here they moved some grass and pushed aside astone, revealing a hole not much larger than a jackal would make. Intothis the brother entered, heels first. Then Nehushta, by his directions,taking the feet of the senseless Miriam, with her help he bore her intothe hole, that opened presently into a wide passage. Last of all Ithiel,having lifted the grasses which their feet had trodden, followed them,pulling the stone back to its place, and cutting off the light. Oncemore they were in darkness, but this did not seem to trouble thebrethren, for again lifting Miriam, they went forward a distance ofthirty or forty paces, Nehushta holding on to Ithiel's robe. Now, atlength, the cold air of this cave, or perhaps its deep gloom and themotion, awoke Miriam from her swoon-like sleep. She struggled in theirhands, and would have cried out, had not Nehushta bade her to be silent.

  "Where am I?" she said. "Is this the hall of death?"

  "Nay, lady. Wait a while, all shall be explained."

  While she spoke and Miriam clung to her affrighted, Ithiel struck ironand flint together. Catching the spark upon tinder he blew it to a flameand lighted a taper which burnt up slowly, causing his white beard andface to appear by degrees out of the darkness, like that of a ghostrising from the tomb.

  "Oh! surely I am dead," said Miriam, "for before me stands the spirit ofmy uncle Ithiel."

  "Not the spirit, Miriam, but the flesh," answered the old man in a voicethat trembled with joy. Then, since he could restrain himself no longer,he gave the taper to the brother, and, taking her in his arms, kissedher again and again.

  "Welcome, most dear child," he said; "yes, even to this darksome den,welcome, thrice welcome, and blessed be the eternal God Who led our feetforth to find you. Nay, do not stop to talk, we are still too near thewall. Give me your hand and come."

  Miriam glanced up as she obeyed, and by the feeble light of the tapersaw a vast rocky roof arching above them. On either side of her alsowere walls of rough-hewn rock down which dripped water, and piled uponthe floor or still hanging half-cut from the roof, boulders large enoughto fashion a temple column.

  "What awful place is this, my uncle?" she asked.

  "The cavern whence Solomon, the great king, drew stone for the buildingof the Temple. Look, here are his mason's marks upon the wall. Here hefashioned the blocks and thus it happened that no sound of saw or hammerwas heard
within the building. Doubtless also other kings before andsince his day have used this quarry, as no man knows its age."

  While he spoke thus he was leading her onwards over the rough,stone-hewn floor, where the damp gathered in little pools. Following thewindings of the cave they turned once, then again and yet again, so thatsoon Miriam was utterly bewildered and could not have found her way backto the entrance for her life's sake. Moreover, the air had become so hotand stifling that she could scarcely breathe.

  "It will be better presently," said Ithiel, noticing her distress, as hedrew her limping after him into what seemed to be a natural crevice ofrock hardly large enough to allow the passage of his body. Along thiscrevice they scrambled for eight or ten paces, to find themselvessuddenly in a tunnel lined with masonry, and so large that they couldstand upright.

  "Once it was a watercourse," explained Ithiel, "that filled the greattank, but now it has been dry for centuries."

  Down this darksome shaft hobbled Miriam, till presently it ended in awall, or what seemed to be a wall--for when Ithiel pressed upon a stoneit turned. Beyond it the tunnel continued for twenty or thirty paces,leading them at length into a vast chamber with arched roof and cementedsides and bottom, which in some bygone age had been a water-tank. Herelights were burning, and even a charcoal fire, at which a brother wasengaged in cooking. Also the air was pure and sweet, doubtless becauseof the winding water-channels that ran upwards. Nor did the place lackinhabitants, for there, seated in groups round the tapers, or watchingthe cooking over the charcoal fire, were forty or fifty men, still clad,for the most part, in the robes of the Essenes.

  "Brethren," cried Ithiel, in answer to the challenge of one who was setto watch the entry, "I bring back to you her whom we lost a while ago,the lady Miriam."

  They heard, and seizing the tapers, ran forward.

  "It is she!" they cried, "our queen and none other, and with herNehushta the Libyan! Welcome, welcome, a thousand times, dear lady!"

  Miriam greeted them one and all, and before these greetings werefinished they brought her food to eat, rough but wholesome, also goodwine and sweet water. Then while she ate she heard all their story. Itseemed that more than a year ago the Romans, marching on Jericho, hadfallen upon their village and put a number of them to death, seizingothers as slaves. Thereon the remnant fled to Jerusalem, where many moreperished, for, being peaceable folk, all the factions robbed and slewthem. Seeing, at last, that to live at large in the city would be todoom themselves to extinction, and yet not daring to leave it, theysought a refuge in this underground place, of which, as it chanced, oneof their brethren had the secret. This he had inherited from his father,so that it was known to no other living man.

  Here by degrees they laid up a great store of provisions of all sorts,of charcoal for burning, and other necessaries, carrying into the placealso clothes, bedding, cooking utensils and even some rough furniture.These preparations being made, the fifty of them who remained removedthemselves to the vaults where now they had already dwelt three months,and here, so far as was possible, continued to practise the rules oftheir order. Miriam asked how they kept their health in this darkness,to which they replied that sometimes they went out by that pathwhich she had just followed, and mingled with the people in the city,returning to their hole at night. Ithiel and his companion were on sucha journey when they found her. Also they had another passage to theupper air which they would show her later.

  When Miriam had finished eating, dressed her hurt, and rested a while,they took her to explore the wonders of the place. Beyond this greatcistern, that was their common room, lay more to the number of six orseven, one of the smallest of which was given to Nehushta and herselfto dwell in. Others were filled with stores enough to last them all formonths. Last of all was a cave, not very large, but deep, which alwaysheld sweet water. Doubtless there was a spring at the bottom of it,which, when the other rain-fed tanks grew dry, still kept it supplied.From this cistern that had been used for generations after the otherswere abandoned, a little stair ran upwards, worn smooth by the feet offolk long dead, who had come hither to draw water.

  "Where does it lead?" asked Miriam.

  "To the ruined tower above," answered Ithiel. "Nay, another time I willshow you. Now your place is made ready for you, go, let Nehushta batheyour foot, and sleep, for you must need it sorely."

  So Miriam went and laid herself down to rest in the little cementedvault which was to be her home for four long months; and being wornout, notwithstanding the sufferings she had passed and her fears forher grandfather, slept there as soundly as ever she had done in herwind-swept chamber at the palace of Tyre, or in her house at the villageof the Essenes.

  When she awoke and saw the darkness all about her, she thought that itmust be night; then remembering that in this place it was always night,called to Nehushta, who uncovered the little lamp that burned in acorner of the vault, and went out, to return presently with the newsthat according to the Essenes, it was day. So she rose and put on herrobes, and they passed together into the great chamber. Here they foundthe Essenes at prayer and making their reverences to the sun which theycould not see, after which they ate their morning meal. Now Miriam spoketo Ithiel, telling him of her trouble about her grandfather, who, if hehimself still lived, would think that she was dead.

  "One thing is certain," replied her great-uncle: "that you shall not goout to seek him, nor must you tell him of your hiding-place, since soonor late this might mean that all of us would be destroyed, if only forthe sake of the food which we have hoarded."

  Miriam asked if she could not send a message. He answered:

  "No, since none would dare to take it." In the end, however, after shehad pleaded with him long and earnestly, it was agreed that she shouldwrite the words, "I am safe and well, but in a place that I must nottell you of," and sign her name upon a piece of parchment. This letterIthiel, who purposed to creep out into the city that evening disguisedas a beggar, to seek for tidings, said he would take, and, if mightbe, bribe some soldier to deliver it to Benoni at the house of the highpriest, if he were there.

  So Miriam wrote the letter, and at nightfall Ithiel and another brotherdeparted, taking it with them.

  On the following morning they returned, safe, but with a dreadful taleof the slaughters in the city and in the Temple courts, where the madfactions still fought furiously.

  "Your tidings, my uncle?" said Miriam, rising to meet him. "Does hestill live?"

  "Be of good comfort," he answered. "Benoni reached the house of Mathiasin safety, and Caleb also, and now they are sheltering within the Templewalls. This much I had from one of the high priest's guards, who, forthe price of a piece of gold I gave him, swore that he would deliver theletter without fail. But, child, I will take no more, for that soldiereyed me curiously and said it was scarcely safe for beggars to carrygold."

  Miriam thanked him for his goodness and his news, saying that theylifted a weight from her heart.

  "I have other tidings that may perhaps make it lighter still," went onthe old man, looking at her sideways. "Titus with a mighty host drawsnear to Jerusalem from Caesarea."

  "There is no joy in that tale," replied Miriam, "for it means that theHoly City will be besieged and taken."

  "Nay, but among that host is one who, if all the stories are true," andagain he glanced at her face, "would rather take you than the city."

  "Who?" she said, pressing her hands against her heart and turning redderthan the lamplight.

  "One of Titus' prefects of horse, the noble Roman, Marcus, whom inbyegone days you knew by the banks of Jordan."

  Now the red blood fled back to Miriam's heart, and she turned so faintthat had not the wall been near at hand she would have fallen.

  "Marcus?" she said. "Well, he swore that he would come, yet it willbring him little nearer me;" and she turned and sought her chamber.

  So Marcus had come. Since he sent the letter and the ring that was uponher hand, and the pearls which were about her throat,
she had heard nomore of him. Twice she had written and forwarded the writings by themost trusty messenger whom she could find, but whether they reached himshe did not know. For more than two years the silence between them hadbeen that of death, till, indeed, at times she thought that he must bedead. And now he was come back, a commander in the army of Titus, whomarched to punish the rebellious Jews. Would she ever see him again?Miriam could not tell. Yet she knelt and prayed from her pure heart thatif it were once only, she might speak with him face to face. Indeed,it was this hope of meeting that, more than any other, supported herthrough all those dreadful days.

  A week went by, and although the hurt to her foot had healed, like someflower in the dark Miriam drooped and languished in those gloomy vaults.Twice she prayed her uncle to be allowed to creep to the mouth of thehole behind the ridge of rock, there to breathe the fresh air andsee the blessed sky. But this he would not suffer. The thing wastoo dangerous, he said; for although none knew the secret of theirhiding-place, already two or three fugitives had found their way intothe quarries by other entrances, and these it was very difficult to passunseen.

  "So be it," answered Miriam, and crept back to her cell.

  Nehushta looked after her anxiously, then said:

  "If she cannot have air I think that she will soon die. Is there noway?"

  "One," answered Ithiel, "but I fear to take it. The staircase from thespring leads to an ancient tower that, I am told, once was a palaceof the kings, but now for these many years has been deserted, for itsentrance is bricked up lest thieves should make it their home. None cancome into that tower, nor is it used for purposes of war, not standingupon any wall, and there she might sit at peace and see the sun; yet Ifear to let her do so."

  "It must be risked," answered Nehushta. "Take me to visit this place."

  So Ithiel led her to the cistern, and from the cistern up a flight ofsteps to a little vaulted chamber, into which they entered througha stone trap-door, made of the same substance as the paving of thechamber, so that, when it was closed, none would guess that there wasa passage beneath. From this old store-room, for such it doubtless was,ran more steps, ending, to all appearance, in a blank wall. Coming toit, Ithiel thrust a piece of flat iron, a foot or more in length, into acrack in this wall, lifted some stone latch within, and pushed, whereona block of masonry of something more than the height and width of a man,and quite a yard in thickness, swung outwards. Nehushta passed throughthe aperture, followed by Ithiel.

  "See," he said, loosing his hold of the stone, which without noiseinstantly closed, so that behind them there appeared to be nothing but awall, "it is well hung, is it not? and to come hither without this ironwould be dangerous. Here is the crack where it must be set to lift thelatch within."

  "Whoever lived here guarded their food and water well," answeredNehushta.

  Then Ithiel showed her the place. It was a massive tower of a squareof about forty feet, whereof the only doorway, as he told her, had beenbricked up many years before to keep the thieves and vagabonds fromsheltering there. In height it must have measured nearly a hundredfeet, and its roof had long ago rotted away. The staircase, which wasof stone, still remained, however, leading to four galleries, alsoof stone. Perhaps once there were floors as well, but if so these hadvanished, only the stone galleries and their balustrades remaining.Ithiel led Nehushta up the stair, which, though narrow, was safe andeasy. Resting at each story, at length they came to that gallery whichprojected from its sides within ten feet of the top of the tower, andsaw Jerusalem and the country round spread like a map beneath. Then,as it was sunset, they returned. At the foot of the stair Ithiel gaveNehushta the piece of iron and showed her how to lift the secret latchand pull upon the block of hewn stone that was a door, so that it openedto swing to again behind them.

  Next morning, before it was dawn in the world above, Miriam arousedNehushta. She had been promised that this day she should be taken up theOld Tower, and so great was her longing for the scent of the free airand the sight of the blue sky that she had scarcely closed her eyes thisnight.

  "Have patience, lady," said Nehushta, "have patience. We cannot startuntil the Essenes have finished their prayers to the sun, which, down inthis black hole, they worship more earnestly than ever."

  So Miriam waited, though she would eat nothing, till at length Ithielcame and led them past the cistern up the stairs to the store ortreasure chamber, where the trap-door stood wide, since, except in caseof some danger, they had no need to shut it. Next, they reached the doorof solid stone which Ithiel showed her how to open, and entered the baseof the massive building. There, far above her, Miriam saw the sky again,red from the lights of morning, and at the sight of it clapped her handsand called aloud.

  "Hush!" said Ithiel. "These walls are thick, yet it is not safe to raisea voice of joy in Jerusalem, that home of a thousand miseries, lest,perchance, some should hear it through a cleft in the masonry, and causesearch to be made for the singer. Now, if you will, follow me."

  So they went up and up, till at last they reached the topmost gallery,where the wall was pierced with loopholes and overhanging platforms,whence stones and other missiles could be hurled upon an attackingforce. Miriam looked out eagerly, walking round the gallery fromaperture to aperture.

  To the south lay the marble courts and glittering buildings of theTemple, whence, although men fought daily in them, the smoke ofsacrifice still curled up to heaven. Behind these were the Upper and theLower City, crowded with thousands of houses, packed, every one of them,with human beings who had fled hither for refuge, or, notwithstandingthe dangers of the time, to celebrate the Passover. To the east was therugged valley of Jehoshaphat, and beyond it the Mount of Olives, greenwith trees soon to be laid low by the Romans. To the north the new cityof Bezetha, bordered by the third wall and the rocky lands beyond. Notfar away, also, but somewhat in front of them and to the left, rose themighty tower of Antonia, now one of the strongholds of John of Gischalaand the Zealots, while also to the west, across the width of the city,were the towers of Hippicus, Phasael and Mariamne, backed by the splendidpalace of Herod. Besides these were walls, fortresses, gates and palaceswithout number, so intricate and many that the eye could scarcely followor count them, and, between, the numberless narrow streets of Jerusalem.These and many other things Ithiel pointed out to Miriam, who listenedeagerly till he wearied of the task. Then they looked downwards throughthe overhanging platforms of stone to the large market-place beneath andto the front, and upon the roofs of the houses, mostly of the humblersort, that were built behind almost up to the walls of the Old Tower,whereon many people were gathered as though for safety, eating theirmorning meal, talking anxiously together, and even praying.

  Whilst they were thus engaged, Nehushta touched Miriam and pointedto the road which ran from the Valley of Thorns on the northeast.She looked, and saw a great cloud of dust that advanced swiftly, andpresently, through the dust, the sheen of spears and armour.

  "The Romans!" said Nehushta quietly.

  She was not the only one who had caught sight of them, for suddenly thebattlement of every wall and tower, the roof of every lofty house, theupper courts of the Temple, and all high places became crowded withthousands and tens of thousands of heads, each of them staring towardsthat advancing dust. In silence they stared as though their multitudeswere stricken dumb, till presently, from far below out of the maze ofwinding streets, floated the wail of a single voice.

  "Woe, woe to Jerusalem!" said the voice. "Woe, woe to the City and theTemple!"

  They shuddered, and as it seemed to them, all the listening thousandswithin reach of that mournful cry shuddered also.

  "Aye!" repeated Ithiel, "woe to Jerusalem, for yonder comes her doom."

  Now on the more rocky ground the dust grew thinner, and through it theycould distinguish the divisions of the mighty army of destroyers. Firstcame thousands of Syrian allies and clouds of scouts and archers, whosearched the country far and wide. Next appeared the road-makers and thecam
p-setters, the beasts of burden with the general's baggage and itsgreat escort, followed by Titus himself, his bodyguard and officers,by pikemen and by horsemen. Then were seen strange and terrible-lookingengines of war beyond count, and with them the tribunes, and thecaptains of cohorts and their guards who preceded the engines, and that"abomination of desolation," the Roman Eagles, surrounded by bands oftrumpeters, who from time to time uttered their loud, defiant note.After them marched the vast army in ranks six deep, divided into legionsand followed by their camp-bearers and squadrons of horse. Lastly wereseen the packs of baggage, and mercenaries by thousands and tens ofthousands. On the Hill of Saul the great host halted and began toencamp. An hour later a band of horsemen five or six hundred strongemerged out of this camp and marched along the straight road toJerusalem.

  "It is Titus himself," said Ithiel. "See, the Imperial Standard goesbefore him."

  On they came till, from their lofty perch, Miriam, who was keen-sighted,could see their separate armour and tell the colour of their horses.Eagerly she searched them with her eyes, for well she guessed thatMarcus would be one of those who accompanied his general upon thisservice. That plumed warrior might be he, or that with the purple cloak,or that who galloped out from near by the Standard on an errand. He wasthere; she was sure he was there, and yet they were as far apart as whenthe great sea rolled between them.

  Now, as they reconnoitred and were passing the Tower of Women, of asudden the gate opened, and from alleys and houses where they had lainin ambush were poured out thousands of Jews. Right through the thin lineof horsemen they pierced, uttering savage cries, then doubled back uponthe severed ends. Many were cut down; Miriam could see them falling fromtheir horses. The Imperial Standard sank, then rose and sank again torise once more. Now dust hid the combat, and she thought that all theRomans must be slain. But no, for presently they began to appear beyondthe dust, riding back by the way they had come, though fewer than theywere. They had charged through the multitude of Jews and escaped. Butwho had escaped and who were left behind? Ah! that she could not tell;and it was with a sick and anxious heart that Miriam descended the stepsof the tower into the darkness of the caves.