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t 2 3

4 5 6

Hw iniiii! y.

WHEN THKV WALKF:') TOGETHER UNDER THE
SHINING STARS "

.nmif^ ■* iM<^<»M{H^

ZEROLA OF NAZARETH

LOUIE BARRON

lORONTO

CHAS. J. MUSSON

1895

p5«rT!r7»;'?

.»»«-Jw»fci<' nnmnffn^^faww^

i->

2017

Entered aceordin<< to Act of the Parliament ot Canada, in the
year one thousand ei«;ht hundred and ninety five, h.s C.
J. MusHON, at the Department of Agriculture.

'HT' ■tt*f>Wff*,i'^^^aKtttiM^¥<^,

PREFACE

In offering this oriental story in book
form to the reading public I do so in the
hope that it may entertain and help to make
leisure hours pass pleasantly. This was my
purpose when it appeared as a serial I con-
fess 1 had no other in writing the tale. To
entertain is the mission of fiction. All else
that it may accomplish is so much extra, in
the way of good measure— and judging from
the success of Zerola of Nazareth in the
columns of Dr. Talmage's great paper, The
Christian Herald, there seems every reason
to believe that this may be considf arable. In
the present decade of realism and natural-
ism, of the nasty sort, there is undoubtedly
a place in the hearts of thousands of people

for wholesome romance which will arouse
and hold the attention by means of methods
that are admirable. The demand is for no-
vels that are intensely human, painting
scenes that are vivid, events that are
dramatic - all animated by characters that
seem to be actual men and women moved
by desires and passions similar to our own.
Surely this can be done without going for
material and color to certain sides of life
that are as well left to those whose pro-
fession it is to heal or to bury. This mod-
ern literary creed does not necessarily imply
any ethical or didactic motives whatever.
These are for persons engaged in other
spheres. Upon the above theory I have
written Zerola op Nazareth.

As to the critics. I ask them to be mer-
ciful, though not patronizing. I acknow-
ledge that this is my first effort in fiction

■■I

r«.If.<»,,*qj|,

and promise that I shall try to do better in
the future.

As to my noin de plume. The name on
the title page is not the one used in the Nev/
York journal, although after careful revision
the story is essentially the same.

With every good wish for the enjoyment
of those who, I trust, may be added to the
number of Zerola's friends, I leave the east-
ern story to those generous people for whom
it was written — the western public.

Louie Barron.

November, 1895.

«tp'<»»*!M«|;^,

■'1 {

fcirf, ,H'i .♦ .. ■ *ij;,ft',t ;,-, '',,-<• |'ii*';'|)gi

:.» »»i«<t><?Mn»«^

\h^mj,'i,'i^

ILLUSTRATIONS

WHEN THEY WALKKI) TOGETHER UNDER

THE SHINrNG 8TARH" - . . . Frontixpiece

'" HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE IS ! ' SAID THE

ROMAN, RAPT IN ADMIRATION " - Facing p. ^Q

"a FORM STANDING BENEATH THE FRA-
GRANT BLOSSOMS " '«

155

^tVltiftfn^

JBhiilii I Blintf .11..

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

CUPID IN THE OaiENT - . » . . 3

CHAPTER II.

SETTING THE NETS - - . * . . |j

CHAPTER III.

HIDDEN BY THE DrAx'ERIES * • - • 24

CHAPTER IV.

THE KINGDOM OF POVERTY " - • • 34

CHAPTER V.

A PAIR SLAVE 42

CHAPTER VT.

ESCAPED gi

CHAPTER VII.

A flower's DESTINY 53

CHAPTER VIII.

THE EGYPTIAN AGAIN 57

CHAPTER IX.

THE UPSETTING OF PLANS • - . . . Q-J

.•»^-5i«,«i»»< w itKmmrnfr^*^

CHAPTER X.

AMONG THE FLASHES ^0

CHAPTER XI.

CORBULO'S RESOLVE ..---- 86

CHAPTER XII.

IN THE ALCOVE - r ^^

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BEST OF NEWS - ^^^

CHAPTER XIV.

DISCOVERED - ^^"

CHAPTER XV.

CROSSING A DESERT 1^5

CHAITER XVI.

H03IE AGAIN ^'^^

CHAPTER XVII.

THE UNIVERSAL TRIAL - ■ " - " 1«>2

chaptp:r XVIII.

WHIRLING IN WILD CAROUSAL - - - - 140

chapter XIX.

DEPARTING ^^^

CHAPTER XX.

A BRIDAL MORNING - - - ' - J 57

. t.M«»»W«lfH^

ZEROLA OF NAZARETH

CHAPTER T.

CUPID IN THE OIllKNT

Twilight in Palestine.

In the sky few stars yet shining.

Streaks of color golden and roseate still
lingering in the glowing west.

An olive grove in Nazareth.

At one end of it a large house resembling
in architecture those of Egypt. Here a
number of stately palms were waving.

F^ehind sonio of the trees its swarthy
owner was standing, concealed and watching.

It was blossom time.

All around the grove were gardens of
purple lilies and bushes of all tints of roses

Upon tl>em in tlie breeze the white olive
flowers were dropping like a shower of soft
warm rain.

"Come," said Thaeon, taking his compan-
ion's hand, "we should be going now,"

^tfffi iiifi<f^atii

** Yec, indeed, we should," laughed Zerola,
" for these mischievous showers are tangling
their pretty drops in my hair and no doubt
making me look quite venerable."

" And of course every Jewess' locks should
be the color of a "

*' A white swan ? " she suggested, smiling.

'*No, ofa "

'* A golden pheasant ? "

" No ; that would be too like your sisters
of the North. Of a "

"Then of a flock of ravens'?" continued
Zerola, brushing the blossoms from her hair.

"Yes, black as raven plumes, and — but
listen. Listen !"

The young man stood still a moment.

"Whatisit, Thaeon?"

" I fancied I heard someone walking over
there by the palms."

" Oh, no, it must have been just the trees
rustling."

"Probably so," he answered.

They hastened on more rapidly for a few
minutes. It was growing darker. Night
increases quickly in eastern lands.

They were now nearly outside of the grove.

" Might we rest a little T' asked Thaeon.
And they walked more slowly.

■4i

**Zorol<a," he said, "is it true that you are
going away in a few days ? "

" Yes, 1 am going on a visit to friends
Jerusalem."

They walked on a little while in silence.

Then he turned towards her, saying in a
voice that showed some emotion :

" I can scarcely tell you how sorry I am to
know that you are leaving Nazareth, for I
have been waiting a long time to have an
opportunity to - but T have been at fault, T
was afraid, and am still. Yet I cannot keep
back my thoughts any more. O Zerola, I
love you ; I love you more it seems to n)e than
man ever loved woman before. Oh, tell me,
Zerola, m^iy I — may I hope — that you —
love me?"

A moment of silence. Then came her

answer :
" No."

Instantly Thaeon's face expressed the sor-
row and disappointment of his heart. Yet
not quite in harmony with this cold reply
seemed the smile about her lips and the love-
light in thore large expressive eyes. But, in
both ways, love is ever blind.

" Then we ^h.ill have tr part," Thaeon con-
tinued at length. "We have been true friends,

irrr

Zerola, from earliest youth. And since tliat
happy time every month and every year — I
have learned to love you more. I v^as a boy
then, but I am no longer. And now with
all my heart and manhood's strength I lovj
you. Oh, I love you, Zerola, more than any
worvls can tell ! But, pardon me —I should
not speak so."

Through this darkness many a man has
had to go.

Walking on the youth thought within
himself :

" And it is come to this. Oh, how we
deceive ourselves by phantom hopes ! Doubt-
less I shall never see her more until the day
we stand before her brother's throne. Yet
I will neither show nor shed a tear of weak-
ness ! "

The night was still darkening and they
were walking on slowly. Then extending
his hand, in a voice whose trembling was
but ill-suppressed, he said :

" This is the last time we shall meet. So
farewell, Zerola — farewell ! "

"No, Thaeon, you must not leave me,"
was her response, as slie still held his hand
timidly

" Hut why sliouid T stay?" he asked, sur-

prised. "You have said you c-^red nothing
for me. And — "

"How do you know?" she questioned,
shyly.

" Because — "

" Because I said you may not hope ? "

" With that one sentence you swept away
the joy from life, made all dark."

"Well, I cannot change it."

"But I love you so passionately, Zerola.
Could you not have granted me even one rav
of hope ? " ^

" No."

" Bid me wait— for months or years. I
would be pati«nt."

"No, I will not- cannot."

" And so you deny me everything. I have
hoped and lost. What else has the world in
it for me now? Zerola, from my earliest
years my soul was filled with thee. From
venturous boy to resolute man thou hast
been my guardian spirit, my angel, my god-
dess ! Thy image made my breast a chaste
temple— and there my heart has worshipped
thee. Sometimes I thought thou didst smile
upon me, and in the light of thy kindly eyes
this world seemed paradise. I held it sweet
to live, to love— and If)iiged to call thee mine.

From the first moment I saw thee thy glance
has been a, soft chain — I was thy slave and
thou my queen ! And from that hour I grew,
what to the last I shall be, thine adorer !
O Zerola, grant me one word, one look — and
l)id me hope ! "

Into one moment what hours of suspense
may crowd ! It passed. Then a pretty face
was looking upward and a pair of whispering
eyes met the young man's downcast glance.

'*Thaeon, you may do more than hope —
you may know."

If we deceive ourselves with phantom
hopes, we make the same mistake not less
frequently with phantom fears. Then for
Thaeon the gate of heaven opened, and the
streaming light chased the blindness from
his glowing heart.

"Do you then love me?" he inquired
anxiously, not quite sure that he had under-
stood aright.

He heard a sweet voice answer softly ;

'* Yes, I do. I could not live without you.''

Again he looked earnestly into her dark
lustrous eyes, continuing :

" It would be my brightest joy to become
your husband. Zerola, will you be n^y wife?"

A pretty blush passed away as tlie reply
came grayely though happily :

•» •;•-» tM*««»»<fM»«»^

''Twill, Thaeoii."

He drew her to him.

How various are the paths that Cupid
flies along to the golden goal called confession.
Above some a cloud seems to hover for a
moment, which often is only a prophecy of
the coming sunshine. Thus may it be in the
grove that evening in Nazareth.

After a few minutes Zerola looked up
exclaiming :

" Why, Thaeon, you have already had as
many kisses as you should in a week. Come,
let us go and tell mother."

" And ask her — "

" For her blessing

'' On our coming happiness," added Thaeon,
smiling and kissing her again.

So they hastened homeward. Never be-
fore had the road seemed so short as it did
to these two that night, when they walked
together under the shining stars, with open
hearts and beamiog eyes.

As they neared the dwelling of Zerola's
mother, two figures crossed their path ; one
that of a tall stalwart man, the other that of
a little dwarf-boy.

"Karmes and Sati," muttered Thaeon

" the Egyptian and the imp.
that we should meet them."

^t IS strange

i«*»»«»»»«»f»^

I ^.?^

Th^^ older went on, th^ younger waited.
As Thaeon and Zerola approaclied, he said,
performing an obsecifuious salaam :

'•' My master, Karraes, the noble Egypt-
ian, whose vast riches are hidden in the
treasure pyramids along the banks of his
native Nile, bids me ask the gracious Zerola
to speak with him. He awaits her pleasure."

A flash of indignation gleamed on the
girl's countenance. But she rejoined simply
and calmly :

' Zerola will not come."

As the boy turned and walked quickly
away Karmes met him.

" What message?" he queried, "what mes-
sage ? "

In a moment he knew the reply. In an-
other the dwarf was running back along the
path.'

"Zerola!" he called.

No answer.

"Zerola!"

The two heard him and they walked more
slowl3\ Coming up the dwarf stepped beside
the young woman and sneered :

" My master says, let her remember this
liour. From now on Zerola carriers the curse
of Kaimes. Therefore, let her rememb(»r

' 1^,.^^^ tM«r»^'>i^.

this }iour yoar.s to come ! He swears that
thou wilt yet be his unpitied slave. And
when he is tired of thy beauty, so corrupt
shall be thy blackened soul that compared
with it my Ethiopian skin will be as white
as I iidian pearls and thou shalt be glad to
crouch in some dark hiding-place amongst
the outcas' and the vile and die accursed —
cursed with the curse of Karmes. Ay, says
my master : Let her remember this hour
years to come ! "

Thaeon would have stopped this impetuous
torrent, but the girl put up her hand and
checked the impulse. They walked onward,
the imp following. At length Zerola said :

*' Sati, go tell yuur master Zerola neither
likes nor fears him. Go ! "

" So you play the tigress Ha, ha— we
laugh at you ! "

'' Away ! "

The dwarf sped back and soon was ascend-
ing the steps of the old house in the palm
grove, where Karmes awaited l.im. A few
questions were asked, and he knew all.

What would he do next ? Jt was no secret
in the village that Karmes was a man of
cunning and intricate ways : no principle of
ethics or religion ever restrained his desire
or his dagger.

ft; ■

•^

*' Let li(;r iviiieniber this hour years to
come!" "What," Thaeoii asked himself,
" couJd he mean ?"

Only the future would reveal the mystery
of these ominous words. iXs they crossed
the threshold of Zerola's home in Nazareth
that night, both Thaeon and the girl felt that
a shadow had come over their lives -and it
was the shadow of the Egyptian.

. inmi'imt^

CHAPTER II

SETTING THE NETS

Four days went by, days of liappiness.
Again it was ev^ening. At the house of
Zerohi's father, all was music and light and
joy, for it was the night of the betrothal
feast.

In the East, especially in ancient times,
betrothal was a ceremony of nearly as much
gladness and solemnity and almost as sacred-
ly binding in its obligations and vows as
marriage. Among the Hebrews, this relation
was usually determined by the parents or
brothers without consulting the parties until
they came to be betrothed, and often while
the youth and maiden were mere children.

But from this national custom Thaeon and
Zerola departed, in at least one respect.
Their marriage was to be the result of two
minds in communion and two hearts in love.
They had chosen each other. The formal
betrothal was usually performed a year be-
fore marriage, either in writing or by a piece
of silver given to the espoused in the presence
of witnesses, as a pledge of their mutual en-

^agenieuts. It .somotinios happened that a
regular' cfintratt was made; in which tho
bride^iooin was ))Oun(l to provide a certain
sum of money as liis l)ride s portion. From
tlie time of espousal, tlie woman was consid-
ered as the lawful wife of him to whom she
was atiianced.

At the same hour in which tlie betrothal
rejoicings were taking place in Zerola's home,
a very different scene was in progress at the
mansion of the Egyptian. Karmes had
learned of the j)roposed departure of Zerola
for Jerusalem, and had matured a scheme
which he felt certain would result in the girl
being delivered into his hands. He was now
engaged in preparing instructions for the
guidance of his chief steward during his ab-
sence. Looking up a moment he said to his
attendant :

" 8ati, go to the stables and see how soon
the caravan will be ready to start."

Then he hurriedly resumed his writing on
the wax tablet. He had determined to send
a swift messenger on before, thinking that
certain matters would thereby be expedited.
Looking up again he inquired where the man
was. Just then the messenger entered,
equipped for the journey.

>**.»**** * >ffT «t*'v,

1 that a
lich th(^
, certain
From
; coiisul-
loni she

etrothal
's home,
IS at the
les had
f Zero! a

scheme

the girl

^vas now

for the

his ab-
d to his

ovv soon

iting on
to send
ig that
)edited.
ihe man
ntered.

•'You start to-night ? " asked Karmes.

" Tn an hour," wtis the respectful answer.

" This letter," and he handed the mess-
enger a small scroll, "take at once to Saul
of Tarsus. lie lives not far from the palace
of Joseph Caiaphas, the High Priest, which
is near the temple."

" T will obey your wishes."

*' This to Corbulo, general jf the legions.
You will easily ascertain his place of resid-
ence. He is coming from Rome to visit
Pilate."

"I will."

" And this to my sister in Rome. Give it,
with that," and he tossed the man a small
bag of shekels. '* To the captain of the first
Egyptian ship bound for the Imperial City."

The listener bowed submissively.

*' And now, off with all speed ! "

The messenger disappeared, and almost at
the same moment Sati entered the chamber

" The camel driver bids me tell our master
that they are ready to start at his command."

" That is well."

"What is Karmes' pleasure?" asked the
dwarf.

The Egyptian thought a moment, then re-
sponded : "We start for Jerusalem in the
morning at sunrise."

»»«*'>#»«-«'^

■ i i

' <

• ' H
!■ I '

!l<

About two days after this, the oaiiiels and
their riders arrived at their destination in
the Holy City, and immediately Karmes be-
gan setting the nets, as the fowler sets iiis
snare for the unsuspecting bird.

To a dwelling close to the palace of Herod
the Great, he first took his way.

"Good morning, Karmes," was the sjiluta-
tion of the master of the house.

" The noble Arni is well, I hope."

" Excellent well, I thank you."

"lam indeed glad," was the Egyptian's
urbane reply.

"You have just arrived ?''

" Our caravan came into the city last
night."

" No doubt after wandering through an
exceedingly pleasant wilderness."

Tlie room in which they sat was adorned
most luxuriously with all that the East could
furnish to please the eye and charm the im-
agination.

" Well, Arni, how hums our Jewish hive
to-day ? "

" Most noisily. I have not heard such
buzzing since that day you caught the imp
tending his bee.s on the mountains of Ethi-
opia."

.«,*rt*(»v4*««>fe'

lels and
ition in
lues be-
sets his

t Herod

saluta-

yp turn's

ty last

»ugb an

idorned
st could
the im-

Lsh hive

rd such
the imp
)t' Ethi-

"Tliey are fond of honey."
" And of blood."

• "But leave their stings in the wound." '

"Therefore by each encounter they are
the more unarmed."

" And the more prepared for us crocodiles
of the Nile to eat them up."

" Ha, ha, Karmes, well said ! And we
will snap our huge a?id hungry jaws at the
very smell of such a banquet. Wherever
the carcass is, there will the "

" The crocodiles be gathered tt)gether," in-
terrupted the elder with a sinister twinkle
in his black eyes.

" But we must be indeed watchful "

" Your reason ? "

" Lest the Roman eagles may swoop down
before us."

" An eagle's wing may be quicker than a
crocodile's claw, but a crocodile's belly is
larger than an eagle's body."

" Ha, ha, %i your old game ! " laughed
Arni.

The door of the chamber opened, and a
servitor entered beai'ing a letter addressed
to Karmes. The Egyptain took it, br-oko
open the seal liastily, and read :

k
s

i««af*.«^-

r j,

1!!

■11

1.1

'l!

J ' '

Mil

111!

' 1

'if

iPi

*' Saul to Karmes :
" Most noble friend, Greeting.

** The Sanhedrim meets to-day at the ninth
hour in the sacred court south-east of the
temple.

*' Fail not to be witbrn call.

" Farewell,

" Saul."

Crumpling up tliis letter in his hand, the
Egyptain explained with gr ^ater detail to his
fellow-countryman, )iis desire and plans to
obtain possession of Zerola. The two men
had been companions in many a plot, and
usually galloped their horses — or donkeys —
to success. Now they glanced at each other,
and smiled vc:;ry knowingly. An acorn looks
little, but it contains a whole forest.

**I suppose," continued Arni, '' this Zerola
must be fair to look upon?"

^' Most pleasant, indeed," responded Kar-
mes.

" Rivaling even the bewitching little black-
eyed nymphs of Egypt?"

" Surpasj-ing them." ..

" Oh, Karmes ! "

"Too true, Arni."

" What a flame the Jewess has lighted in
your heart."

e ninth
of the

VUL.

,nd, the
il to his
5lans to
vo men
lot, and
ikeys —
h other,
•n looks

5 Zero! a

;d Kar-

e black-

lited in

" True too, Arni."

" Why, Karrnes ! " ; ' 1

" Arni,'' he went on, rising, " whether in
the temples of the Nile, in the bazaars of
the Euphrates or in the palaces of the Tiber,
I have never beheld a girl, woman or goddess
of such wondrous l)eauty as this simple but
enchanting Zerola of ISTazareth."

'Mio! Karrnes," laughed Arni, "I fear
tliis flame of yours will out-fire even the con-
Hagr-ation of Troy."

"Or of Alexandria when Antony was
there," suggested Karrnes. " But enough,
Arni, let us to another subject."

" First, however, let me say : beware, lest
you pay too many pearls for your torch."
" What do you mean ? "
"This, Saul would exalt the priest at the
expense of the prince. Though I regard
both these as foes— twin vultures, hatched
from the same egg— yet I am not forgetful
that Karmes is of regal lineage."
"Yes."

"And your royal sister an exile in Rome."
"What then?"
Well, Saul is a Jew, so are his masters.
Tiberius is a Roi.,c.n, so are his minions."
"Honest Arni '"

*' And Egypt's true dynasty is a tree which
will grow only when watered by tlie blood of
Jews and Romans ! "

" Ah, right ! But not so fast, you will have
to "

Knock — knock.

*' Enter, Siti."

The imp appeared in tlie doorway and an-
nounced that a scholar of Tarsus requ(^sted
entrance. In a moment more the distinguish-
ed visitor was ushei'ed in.

*' Welcome, 8aul," said Karmes, extending
his hand.
" Welcome," repeated Arni. cordially.

" Good morrow, noble friends," responded
the cultured Jew.

Immediately they proceeded to discuss the
business in hand, whicn on the Egyptian's
part concerned Zerola, and on the Hebrew's,
the suppressing of Christianity. Widely dif-
ferent purposes tliese, yet the aim and end
of both was the same : destruction of life and
honor.

Jt was now Karmes' self-imposed and not
very difficult task to persuade Saul that it
would be advantageous to dispose o*' the youth
Thaeon. Arni saw that they would prefer to
be aione ; so he arose, muttering cynically as
he went out :

, tM«4)«<fr«^f<^

which
lood of

1 have

nd an-
il (^sted
ignish-

endinij

ponded

uss the

ptian's

crew's,

^ly dif-

A end ?

fe and -

1(1 not ii
liat it 1
youth 1

efer to
ally as

" Suppress Christianity ! Well, I will now
go over to Olivets and stop that stream from
running down hill."

Strange is the fact, in moments when we
little d''eam of such a thing, there may be
enemies planning our ruin. Thaeon and Ze-
rola were walking together just outside the
city walls, and were tilled with that joy of
love which is the sure result of similarity of
tas*"'"' e((uality of development and commu-
nity or aspiration. Perfect was their happi-
ness : every flower seemed to breathe it, (;very
brook seemed to ripple it, every star seemed
to shine it. Happiness on the land, hap[)i-
uess on the watei's, happiness in the seas,
happincvss in the cities : every tower seemed
to gleam it, every wave secMned to Hash it.
Happiness in the forests, on the plains, on the
mountains : every leaf seemed to tremble it,
every breeze seemed to whisper it, every bird
seemed to carol it. 7Iappiness in meadow,
sky, earth, heaven — happiness, happiness !

And so TiiaeoQ and Zerola wandered on,
living in their own world, as all lovers do.
That morning thfj strolled far, heart speak-
ing to heart, each finding in the other res-
ponse to thouglits and long ngs hitherto un-
uttered. When love has touched the fouii-

B'lWWSift

tains of buiiig, life; takes a n(3W aspect ; the
present is rapturous, the future is paradise.
Cupid is partial to tints that a^e roseate.
Perhaps this is why he is so fond of blushes.
Happily for these two, as for many, neither
could bring the gift of foreknowledge. The
present was full of joy The future - well,
knowing nothing, they could paint the pic-
ture for themselves. And when people un-
dertake to be the artists of their own des-
tiny the colors are usually bright. ]3ut, if
coming events do cast their shadows, as we
are assured, no shadow fell on these two
young hearts. All around and within was
sunshine.

When Arni returned, Saul was just taking
leave.

** You promise," he was saying to Karmes,
*' you promise that "

"That," interrupted the Egyptian, "To-
morrow, soon after the rising of the sun,
Thaeon will be in the vicinity of the Damas-
cus gate."

" Give me your hand."

" Most heartily."

" And in return," Karmes continued, " you
promise that — "

" Tliat," broke in Saul, glancing towards

if
I

i
I

4
I

.•t ; the
iradise.
'oseate.
>lushes.
neither
. The

- well,
h(3 pic-
ple un-
^n des-
But, if

as we
3e two
in was

the PrjetoriuH), *' that Zerola will be sen-
tenced to be sold as a slave."

" My slave ? "

" By first right of purchase."

" It is agreed."

"Then, farewell," said Saul.

" Farewell," answered Karmes. " But, re-
member, to-morrow at the Damascus gate.
Farewell."

" I shall remember."

And they parted for the night.

taking

armes,

((

To-

e sun

)amas-

" you
wards

CHAPTER III.
hidi)p:n by the draperies

" O CoRiiULO, I have such a pretty surprise
for you ! "

" A request ? " was the genial answer.

Wives in the first century were often quite
as astonishing and fully as roguish as are
those delightful creatures in the nineteenth.

" No, a gift."

*'For me, Niane ? "

"Yes, my husband, for you."

** You have always been so good to me
sweetheart. J]ut tell me of it."

"8ee if you can guess."

" Oh, I am sure I could not."

" Try and see."

" A span of white Ara})ians," ventured the
general.

"Why, Corbulo, your stables are full of
the shapeliest prancera already."

" A new gilded galley ? "

"No." •

" Another chariot ? "

"When yours are already the envy of
every patrician in Rome."

They wore walking along tb(^ banks of the
historic Tiber. It was evening. Those thou-
sands of luminous messengers in heaven were
shining as tliey appear to know how to gleam
only in a sky that bends over old romantic
Italy. The ripples on the water seemed to be
(lirting with the stars.

" What can the gift l>e, Niane ?" the Ro-
man asked again.

" Though the treasures you have mentioned
may be splendid," she resj)onded, "it is more
beautiful than any of them "

" But not more precious than this," lifting
up the sword dangling at his sid(!, and point-
ing to the hilt. " Look, Niane, here is the
pearl you gave me whefi 1 won my first bat-
tle."

" A pretty jewel, my own."

" And white as the giver's heart," was her
husband's fond response.

" And lovingly you have cherished both,"
added Niane.

Then the shadows hid something. The
general and his wife belonged to that army
a-march on the matrimonial pilgrim.age, who,
as the years go by, remain lovers still. Would
that their number were legion ! It was alway
a puzzle for them to understand those mis-

gu'dod niaiifKus who set sail oti tin; nuptial
sea, and aio continually Hndingsf)m(! rock on
which to split, and \vf(»ck two lives.

" But toll nit!, Corhulo," came a question
in a moment, " must you really go away so
soon?"

*' I fear it, Niane. Tiberius desires me to
hasten to Jerusah'in for tlu; puipos(5 of con-
consulting wi h Pihite."

" Concerning some new concjuest for the
(^ueen of the Seven Hills— why cannot you
soldiers rein in your ambition ? "

''It is not extension of Imperial sway this
time."

"What then?"

" Keeping what we have already won.
The Emperor has heard peculiar rumours of
the new religion, so lately arisen in Pales-
tine."

" Tiberius listened to these strange re-
ports ? "

" For a long time they have been like
wasps in his ears "

"Hurely he does not fear the Nazarene?"

" No, despises him. As well might a wolf
or a lion dread a caterpillar."

'' But—"

" Ay, Niane, that fated word — but ! Tibe-

■■*u..

•t/*-*"*'. »M.'«''*?«t>»*-ffi

lius foresees Uiat out of the wood of the
GaHlean's cross, his followers may build a
throne."

" To rule—"

" The world ! "

" Impossible," answered the woman, more
to learn her husband's opinion than to ex-
press her own.

" Yet not improbable. Impossible ? Did
you say impossible 1 Then I would answer,
yes— impossible, as for an eagle to fly, as for
a dolphin to swim, as for a wave to roll.
Live three hundred years, and you will see
the successors of the apostles swayng scep-
tres and wearing crowns."

" Come, come, Corbulo. You make an ex-
cellent orator for the new cause. Perhaps
some day you may do battle in forum or
in palace with Saul of Tarsus or son:e other
famous foe."

" Perhaps, Niane, this same Saul of Tarsus
may be found fighting on the other side."

"Advocating the religion of the Naza-
rene?" »

"Yes."

" Never ! "

" Stranger things have happened."

"Well, according to that logic, my hus-
band is quite likely to "

**Not T, Do not say it, Niaiie. T am too
much attaclietl to tlie gods of Home."'

"Why so, Corhulo?"

" Their blood is in our nation's arteries."

"To .taint them?"

"No. To animate them, to vivify, to en-
rich, to inspire. At least so say the priests.
Thou,i(h at times I am almost prepared to
adnut that you have uttered the truth. But
enough, my wife. Here is our chariot wait-
ing. Let me assist you to step in."

After a few minutes they were on the way
homev/ard. Hovv^ exhilarating was such a
ride ! No modern exercise is one quarter so
exciting or so fascinating. Corbulo was
passionately fond of it and Niane was in full
sympathy. The general was noted in the
city for his superb horses and his brilliant
equipages. He was a known admirer of any-
thing — man, woman, or animal — that was
spirited.

Away they went, like the sweep of a gold-
en cloud. Get out of the way or the chariot
will roll over you. The galloping Aral)ians
were soon drawn up in front of their master's
p.'dxce. Servitors were swinging open the
great iron gates. In a few seconds more
Corbulo and Niane were walking up the

,;♦«,..<. »«.«i"f?.'-.|s;^".

marble sU^ps and were seated in a luxurious
mom vvithin.

"And take this also," added their mistress
to the slaves who were removing some of her
tlowing robes.

" T think,'' said the general, addressing his
wife, "that when I go^ to Palestine I shall
endeavor to obtain some pretty Jewess as
slave for you, Niane. I have been told they
are unusually graceful."

" I have often wished for one, Corbulo. T,
too, have heard they are lovely."

'• Then I shall look for some Hebrew girl,
well-born, well-bred, well-formed — to be
friend as well as slave.'

" Who can read to me, sing to me, talk to

me.

}}

" And play for you, on lute or harp."

'• How^ pleasant "

"I shall diligently search for such a
Jewess."

" And send her to me as a gift."

" Yes, a memento, a souvenir of my visit
to Palestine. But your gift, Niane — have
you forgotten ? "

" What, Corbulo ? "

" The surprise you spoke of when we were
walking an hour ago along tlie banks of the
Tiber."

((

Oil, I remember — the time vou took two
cherries when I only meant you might have
one," his wife added, smiling.

" They were dropping from your lips and
I — " he stoj^ped a moment, looking into
her bright eyes. '

'* Well, I am waiting to hear your inno-
cent little explanation."

" I only caught them as they fell."

" So I suppose I shall have to pardon you.
But come, Corbulo, it is upstairs."

The more magnificent mansions in ancient
Home had two and even three stories. On
the second was usually situated the main
dining-room, an apartment always adorned
with the costly crciations of artist and sculp-
tor. For here were held the banquets. Up
the broad staircase with its bronze balus-
trade Niane and her husband proceeded to
this chamber. All around were paintings and
statues, upon which the tapers threw a soft
weird glow.

" Here is my surprise," she said, taking
hold of some princely Tyrian draperies to
di'aw them aside and disclose the subject of
their conversation.

" A picture ! " exclaimed Corbulo. '* Is it
a landscape ? "

»»a<fii1..i*--

(Scf \w^v 33

HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE IS ! " SAID THK KUMAN,
RAPT IN ADMIRATION

. V

^r-

■"'■^m^imF^-:^^m^

'fO

■ i' " **

I "■:/;,--';*

■' 'liWfrrH''^: .-'?»<'■ •»»**&

laisteSvi

' " No," answered Niaue, drawing away the
heavy curtains. " Look."

It was indeed a picture, a charming dream.

" How beautiful she is ! " said the Roman,
rapt in admiration. " But who can slie he ?
Not a Psyche."
. "No."

"Nora Venus?"

" Impossible."

"A ooddess?"

"No^"

" And yet she is divine."

" Immortal ! "

"See, Niane, how she stands upon the
clouds. How exquisite a form ! And upon
her countenance there is the look of heaven."

"Yes, all true, my husband."

" But in her arms there is a babe —a won-
drous babe, with a strange light in his child-
ish eyes. Who is she, Niane ? Tell me.
Who ia the woman?"

"Mary."

"And the babe?"

"Is the Nazarene ! "

i"':i^?

) IM

CHAPTER IV.

THE kin(;dom of poverty

Morning breaks over Jerusalem very often
as it is never seen to dawn by dwellers in
western climes. It is richer, brighter, more
beauteous. Not a sky spread over Palestine
does it seem to be — but infinite space, mai*-
vellously clear, of an azure that speaks of
immeasurable distance rather than of color.
As the sun rises in that eastern land, gilding
the monntain summits, stretching long spears
of light far up into the ether and athwart
over the city, the splendor of the aureate
monarch and the majesty of his coming
impress every beholder as if by the august
presence of the sublime and gorgeous. And
so our planet's benefactor moves forward to
his throne, mid-noon in heaven.

But frequently in ancient times this very
brilliance has been portentous of a tragedy
approaching. More than once, at sight of
this, princes have feared and kings trembled.

So rose the oun on that day eventful
beyond others to Zerola. The golden dome
of the Temple was glittering proudly in the
morning rays. The carved columns (jf

•f»'^

-35

porphyry and polished ma/ble were casting
their long but shortening shadows as if to
call back into night again the statues of the
silent cloisters.

" Come on ! " shouted a harsh, stern voice.
" Come on ! "

A band of men, whose elaborately embroid-
ered robes indicated their priestly and aristo-
cratic rank, issued quickly from one of the
porticoes of the sacred fdifice.

" Come on I " repeated the voice.

" To a man ! " they exclaimed in answer.

" To the Gate."

"The Damascus Gate!"

" Saul of Tarsus leads on ! " called one with
enthusiasm.

" For our nation and our God ! ' answered
another.

But it was not of praise or worship that
these men were thinking as they issued from
the Temple that morning. Eager face and
flashing eyes had the pupil of Gamaliel.
Small and slight of frame but nervous and
elastic of step, with that power and energy
which mark him as a man born to lead and
to command.

" Let not a word be spoken until we rench
the Damascus Gate," orders Saul. "Silence ! "

■rf

And tlie word was passed along. The men
now follow him almost noiselessly, down the
steep thoroughfare leading into the city from
the Temple height and soon are lost to view
in the shadows of the long rows of houses on
the wind'* ig streets.

The Temple was in the south-east of the
Holy City. Away over in the southern quar-
ter tlie dwellings were more dilapidated than
in other portions. There was situated the
domain of squalor. The people enjoyed all
the blessings of povert}'^ and oppression.
And their religious comforters told them to
be content. For then, as now, the theolog-
ical physicians prescribed and inculcated the
value of medicines they themselves would
never think of taking. There you could see
men haggard and prematurely old, women
listless and weary. In every age there have
been lower ten thousands who have labored
in rags and hovels to enable upper tens to
live in robes and palaces.

If you had been in this district on that
morning you might have seen standing on
the threshold of a miserable, almost tottering
house, which long ago had given up the task
of even trying to look youthful or vigorous,
}i girl of nineteen. Her years must have

been all springs, she was so bright and fresh
so winsome. The door at which she was
standing was that of a wretched dwelling,
but the men and women whose home it was
had hearts as warm as ever throbbed. You
would at once have noticed in the sparkle
of their eyes that strong love of kindred
which the Jew shows wlierever he wanders.

" Peace be v^ith thee I " some said, as the
girl was prepai'ing to g*^ forth.

" And the blessing of our fathers," otliers
added.

They seemed to feel through the girl's
dark l^^rown eyes that warm and mellow light
which speaks of a soul within burning with
human kindiess. Those tender eyes were
dwelling fondly on the group gathered in the
low doorway to speak to her words of part-
ing. They loved their visitor's soft sweet
voice, her cheering smile. Nor could they
keep from admiring her appearance. They
thought her long glossy hair was black.
And so it was. But it had withal that
golden glow which nature sometimes gives
to a child of Palestine. They beheld in
Zerola that charm of form and countenance
which results from the blending symmetry
and grace of Hgure anrl features. Her face

was naturally happy and sometimes gay, yet
the mind witliin gave it an expression often
grave and always commanding. Added to
these a mouth slightly firm and an intellec-
tual brow appeared to complete the tale of a
sympathetic though proud spirit, at once
resolute and impassioned.

'' She might be tbe daughter of a prince,"
suggested one woman, adoring the girl with
her eyes.

" But," responded her two companions,
" whether she is or no '"

" What then ? "

" We care not ! "

" Well," put in a fourth, " if Zerola were
a sovereign's daughter ve would be a prin-
cess' friends."

" You would, in truth you would," agreed
an old man standing next, " and be treated
as human beings, not as cattle ready for the
butcher i knife."

" Or beasts waiting for their burdens,"
added a stoop-shouldered woman to his left.

" Then you do care," continued the first
woman to her two companions.

" How so ? " they asked. " Why ? "

And all looked at the gracious girl smiling
in their midst, as they listened to the answer :

. 4i. .^tt';;*a i 'r U%i'k-:'<"*if-

" Because Zero] a is a queen ! "

She was royal to them, therefore their
verdict. Blue blood is proven, not by purple
garments, but by the heart which propels it
and the actions which express it. Whoever
brought happiness to these people seemed
like an incarnate sunbeam. The reason is
apparent. Life was very hard with them,
and the prospect for their children was just
as dark. You could know their feelings by
their gloomy looks and dull steps. Sleepless
nights and foodless days had driven the iron
into their souls, but in those faces there was
less of patient endurance than of fierce
resentmeot. The victims of tiger tyrants,
they were poor — therefore despised. But
they were still untamed ! And here they
joined issues with the rich and great of their
phenomenal nation. To Tiberius in Rome
these conquered Hebrews in Jerusalem were
ever a standing problem. He thought he
liad broken them to his yoke, yet was con-
stantly discovering them to be haughty and
defiant — dreading his anger but despising
him and all his minions as heathen and out-
cast. A slave disdaining his master, a cap-
tive looking with contempt upon his victor —
it was a reversal of every expectation natural

;(■'■

and Roman. Their religion was strange to
the philosophers and statesmen of the im
perial court. It was tangled up with their
life and history in a manner so unusual.
Their God was angry with them now, they
acknowledged, but he had })een many times
in the past. They were still his children,
his sons and daughters, his chosen people.
The Roman with all his boasted power, won
by centuries of lighting, could attain no such
nobility. It was theirs — and theirs alone !
No sword nor spear could strip them of this
wondrous heritage. Even that score of the
poorest of the race, as they gathered about
the beautiful Jewess at the threshold of their
hovel, had an innate dignity of bearing
which the surroundings were unable to
diminish. The girl herself had a manner
suggestive of the daughter of an empress.

She lingered long before the final words of
parting were uttered.

" You are going so soon," they urged.

" I should be indeed glad to remain in
Jerusalem many days longer," was her reply,
" but I cannot now. Mother may need me
in Nazareth."

" You will come to us again ? '

" Very soon."

■dit^-tmHmmm

and touching her hand with their lips

'Farewell," she answered. " Mv ctmpl
IS already waiting for me just outside the
iJamascus Gate."

Several smiled, f„r they knew that her

lover would be waiting for her too, to go

wi h ln.s betrothed to her home in Nazareth.

Farewell to you all ! " she repeated,

waving her arm -and was gone

a„tZ"\ '" f ^"^ '"'""'''''''' «'"■' ""liking
quickly through the street, her mind recalled

by similar parting words to f.he scene at

home when her mother, kissing her, bade

her return speedily and receive the wdcome

of loving hearts in Nazareth.

CHAPTER V.

A FAIR SLAVE \

" Make way, there ! "

And a man galloped past, his horse clip-
ping fire from the stony pavement.

" Make way ! "

Zerola saw by the uniform that he was a
Roman soldier. It was near the Damascus
Gate. Approaching, she observed with
astonishment the great concourse of people
pressing through its portals.

'' What is the meaning of this ? " she
asked herself.

It was too early in the day foi >wds to
gather, unless attracted by some unusual
occurrence.

" Perhaps," she conjectured, " it may be
one of the imperial legions now stationed at
Palestine, leaving Jerusalem for C?esarea,
or some other town or city of the empire."

Then she stood still a moment and lis-
tened.

Shout! Yell! Curse!

" No, it cannot be," she reasoned, half
aloud ; " that is not the measured tramp of
soldiery."

4:{

*' By Eros, it is not ! " was muttered in lier
hearing, as a man rushed past. " It is the
angry roar of a mob."

" Who can he be ? " forgetting herself,
slightly excited.

" Karmes I " was hissed into her ear.

And another man hurried by.

'* The Egytian and his leopard's paw,
Arni," remarked Zerola beneath her breath,
as the two disappeared in the throngs.

Still the crowds were hurrying toward the
Gate. The girl stopped to let them pass
through before she reached it. Wild venge-*
ful cries were making the turbulence more
intense. ' iie young Jewess knew that there
were in that crowd fathers whose daughters,
distained and dishonored, were dying in the
dungeons of the monsters on the Seven
Hills ; mothers, whose sons, captured and
enslaved, were carrying spears in Cu'sar's
crimsoned ranks ; maidens, whose lovers
were groaning that very morning in the cut-
ting fetters of Herod.

*' Can it be," she tried to guess, " that at
last the bitter wrongs have become too heavy
to be borne, and my countrymen, feeling
that noble death is preferable to slow de-
struction, are rushing to strike one mad-

f-fii

!•

\'^^'.l

'i;

clened blow ? Oppression is the seed of revo-
lution."

But it was a guess drawn at a venture.
The arrow whir'.zed above the mark. Not
the cry of despairing patroitism did Zerola
liear.

" Death to the Nazarenes ! "

" All of them ! ""

" Stone them ! "

" Long live Saul of Tarsus ! "

Her doubts as to what was the meaning
of this tumult were now gone. The girl
cowered in the shadow of the gate to pray for
the sufferers, whoever tliev might be. Her
htart bled for them, and her words ascended
in tender pleading to the Father of man-
kind ; but what would have been her
thoughts and cries if she had known that
there was only one suflferer— and seen his
face !

Priests, aristocrats, zealots, bigots, all —
how they laughed in fiendish glee !

"Look at him !"

*' His just reward," added a Pharisee,
pointiag the finger of scorn at a prisoner
who, manacled at wrist and ankle, was being
dragged outside the Gate.

*' ISee the dust and blood upon his face "

ji^ .k::'.,s .'Jii'B-"

'* Tliaeon will be a warning to others of
the nest," remarked or of the priests.

" Stephen scarcely imagined," continued a
third, " that the apple of his eye would be
plucked out of this life so quickly."

** Corrupt father and corrupt son," came
from another of the Pharisees, sarcastically.

Outside the Gate the crowd halt, pressing
round thu victiDi, whom they strike and spit
upon ; then it separates, and great heavy
stones are hurled at the youth. He is pros-
trate now. The rocky hail ceases.

" He is dead ! " shout several, simultane-
ously.

^'No!"

" Watch him ! "

" He stirs — he rises ! "

" The wretch is kneeling."

The young man's eyes are raised heaven-
ward, and the petition of his dying father
leaves his lips :

" Lord lay not this sin to their charge. O
Jesu receive my spirit."

And wrapping his loose upper garment
around his face and head, he falls in his own
bloc. Has death come ? No. A quiver of
the limbs and a palpitation of the body show
that the young life is still clinging.

4(}

^■~%

" Death to the Nazareiie ! "

And theie is determination in the cry. In
it hundreds unite. ' . • ^

" Death to the Nazarene ! " '

'*The scorpion!" . ' ,. *

" The traitor ! " ' ' '":

" To our race — "

"And to our Ood !"

" Away with liim ! "

"The cur!" • . •

" Crucify him ! "

One of the crowd raises a great stone. .

" Hurl it ! " shout many of tlie populace.

" No," another man interposes. " Let
alone. It is too easy a death for one so false.
Let him suffer, let him writhe ! "

" And leave him 1 "
- "Yes."

"So shall his Hesh be carrion for vultures."

" And his bones bleach — rot in the scorch-

ing sun !

The first nodded his head and laughed.
Then the five stood witli the others feasting
tlieir eyes on the dying struggles of the
young martyr.

A disturbance was noted on the outskirts
of the crowd, and a woman's pleading voice
was heard.

■(.-.J'^-1

'* What is it 1 " asked a number of eager
voices.

"A woman. Back ! "

" Room for the woman ! "

Crack — plash !

A priest struck an earthenware vessel from
her hand.

" She brought water for the Nazarene dog
to lap ! " rang out the voice of an Egyptian.
And it was the voice of Karmes.

" She, too, is a blasphemer," answered a
Jew.

" Let her die with him ! " commanded a
few of the Pharisees, pointing at the youth.

" And mingle her blood with the water she
brought," rejoined one of them.

Cries of one and another kind issued from
various quarters of the multitude.

Karmes, standing in the first ranks and
recognizing the woman as Zerola, is loudest
in the clamor for her punishment. But he
nevertheless works his way through the
throng, and keeps her from bodily injury.
Saul also, at a signal fro. , the Egyptian,
made his way to her side. The keen piercing
gaze of the great leader, under which in fu-
ture years many would quail, was fixed on
the girl's countenance, and seemed to be read-
u

'r^mmv^iijM.^:-}^:^^^

ing her soul. But as Zerola glanced from
Saul of Tarsus to the form of the martyr,
whom, his face being covered with his mantle,
a new one, she did not know as her lover,
she suddenly became resolute and defiant as
she said in a voice tremulous with passion
barely controlled :

" You speak of a blasphemer ' I do not
know where you will find one. But wait.
Perhaps I can tell you. Dogs of that kind
often carry scrolls, and skulk in crowns.
Therefore, go look in the Temple or the Pa-
lace ! But possibly I mistake your meaning.
Blasphemer 1 If it is to have a human heart
and a woman's soul, if it is to be a follower
of the Nazarene whom ye despise and cruci-
fied, then I am a blasphemer ! You priests,
who only break the commandments you pro-
fess to keep, look upon the bleeding body of
your Ijrother, and behold in it the cruelty
and the impotency of your corpse-like creeds.
For even now the man whose blood is on
your hands and sacred robes, is with that
God whose servants ye kill as did your fath-
ers, and whose laws ye blaspheme ! "

Such words, at such a time, in such an age,
could have only one result. The soldiers im-
mediately received their orders : the fetters

'fttrt^min

'm'm ■

were soon fastened upon the ankles and
wrists of the captive girl, and ehe was
dragged in disgrace through the streets of
Jerusalem.

The Egyptian followed the soldiers, keep-
ing his black eyes on the maiden prisoner as
he muttered to himself:

*• My slave — yes, in the power of Karmes ! "
and he smiled at the prospect. " What a fair
slave!"

Saul had hurried on ahead to the Judg-
ment Hall to make the accusation.

Of all the hat«s that reign enthroned in
human breasts, perhaps none is at once so in-
tense and so insatiate as that which has its
source in theology. Swinging a sceptre drap-
ed in black despair it rules and ruins with
all the fierceness of a demon's sway. The
bigot has ceased to be a man. Often a heart
far less cruel is hidden by the armour of the
soldier than by the surplice of the priest.
Often a soul far less marred and maddened
is expressed in the dagger of the assassin
than in the sentence of the judge.

That afternoon the court of Jerusalem
which attendf^d to such prisoners, disposed
of the young Nazarene. But she was not
made aware of their decision until th*^

mornmg.

..^.■.n--'^i^m'

That night Zerolca slept on the stones of a
dungeon beneath the walls of a Syrian
fortress, little dreaming that in the darkness
of that same cell her brother had felt the
pangs of the world's ingratitude and prepar-
ed to pa\' the penalty of a life of sacrifice
and self-devoi.ion, little dreaming that she
might now be separated forever from her
lover and from the fond mother who, that
evening had seen the sun go down and the
twilight darken into night, as she stood on
the threshold of their home and watched for
the return of her daughter across the hills
and through the olive groves of Nazareth.

w v>,,n .linr'^iUi- H te-^rlj.rtMn

CHAPTER VI.

ESCA PRD

The night of the uprojir at the Damascus
Gate, an astonished group of people stood in
the house in the southern part of Jerusalem
which Zerola had left that morning.

Two of their number, who were in the out-
skirts of the crowd and witnessed the ston-
ing, had waited and watched for their oppor-
tunity. So soon as the murderous throng
dispersed, they took up Th aeon's body and
conveyed it under cover of the evening to
their home, to give it reverent burial. In
washing and preparing it for the tomb, signs
of life were perceived.

" Thaeon is not dead ! " shouted one, as
they all crowded around, beyond measure sur-
prised.

" No, no— he lives ! "

Gladness quickly took the place of sorrow.

" He lives, he lives ! "

Every emblem of mourning soon vanished.

" His wounds are indeed severe," remarked
the first again, '* but careful attention and
tender nursing will restore him to his wonted
health."

if.

7«J»\mf li-rmf-hiil^i-

,v:.";fr^^

*'And to "

** Zerola," a third suggested as a smile
came over the other's face.

For well they knew that the moment
Thaeon was well enough to hear the story of
his betrothed's being imprisoned, he would
never rest until he had started to fulfil the
prayer that she might be found. His was that
love which sometimes conquers calmer and
colder consideration, tliat love which marks
the difference between bravery and cowardice,
so often misnamed expediency.

"More water to his brow," reaching for
the vessel.

" It is so refreshing," handing it with a
dampened cloth.

" See how he revives ! "

Thaeon's friends had set quietly and af-
fectionately to work to help bring back the
strength, whicli with sympathetic glances
they saw returning. In the sunlight of their
wise devotion the young man began rapidly
to recover.

" The tigers played fiercely with their
piey," remarked an old man of their num-
ber, " left him for dead — but he has escaped."

CHAPTER VII.

A B^LOWKRS DKSTINY

It was in Rome.

" The slave was a beautiful Jewess, Niane."
" How did you send her to me, Corbulo ? "
"I purchased the girl in .hTusaleni."
" Yes, I remember."

" And forwarded her in care of an old
Egyptian."

" Perhaps that is the explanation."
" I fear it. Karmes has played me false."
" There can be little doubt of it, Corbulo."
" But 1 will find him. And when I find

him, I will " and the Roman rang the

blade of his unsheathed sword. " But enough
Niane," kissing her, '' T must to the Capitol,
farewell."

" I shall follow in an hour."
The city of the Ca'sars had on gala attire.
A visitor on the streets would easily have
imagined that every one of the inhabitants
was a believer in the gospel of geniality.
The gods were smiling upon the Seven Hills.
All was festal.

" A superb day ! " remarked one Roman,
as he met a friend.

" By Hercules it ia an imperial day," re
plied his fellow-citizen, laughing.

*' But, where do you sup to-night ? "

" With Corbulo."

" Perpol ! That is well."

*'Whyso?"

" T have consented to favor him myself."

" Ha, ha, ha ! And you think it is well
that I should dine where you go."

" Ha, ha ! "

" Were J hungry, T had rather be where
you are not."

" But the general's dinners are good, very
good."

*'0h, most excellent."

" And his wine "

" Well, what about his wine 1 "

" Is redder than "

" Clustering cherries."

"To the Tiber with your clustering cherries,
that's a little too poetic for my soul."

"Then tell me," turning to depart.

" I will. Listen." The man took hold of his
fr end's toga, drawing him aside, and whis
pering : " It is redder than a vestal's lips."

And he was gone, shouting as he went :

" Come on ! Come on, to the triumph."

Everywhere is brightness, glory, radiance.

■•«'%•

nr.

The multitudes are hastening;, and oheerinf]f
as they go.

*' Huzzali for Corbulo ! ''

The streets are vocal.

'' Long live CorViulo ! "

The general's is the name of the day. It
is on the tongue of the shouting plebians
and on the tongue of the proud patricians.
It is on the rosy lips of maidens giving merry
jest or bright retort to laughing companions
and it is the word of stately Roman matrons.
Minions and magnates are all talking. Cor-
bulo is the theme, in palace and in forum.
What brilliant scenes ! Step of sandal and
sweep of robe, voice of greatness and blush
of beauty. Rome, the paradise of fashion
and ambition. Rome, the city of pleasure
and splendor !

To win a triumph there was a prize that
even gods might well desire — it alone would
procure adoration and confer immortality.
That morning the marvellous glory of the sun,
coming in heavenly radiance towards the
Campagna, was almost rivalled by the mag-
nificence of chariots plated with gold and
silver, drawn by spirited horses prancing be-
neath robes of purple bedecked with jewels,
trophies of the war. For Corbulo had returned

from abroad crowned with victory, and was
now marching in triumph tlirough the proud
portals and crowded streets of tlie imperial
city.

" Long live Coi-bulo ! " rang out the cry.

He rode beneath arches of Howers wliich
kept dropping their blossoms to the pave-
ment. And the people, as the chariot of the
conqueror rode on, eagerly picked them up
and carried them to a thousand homes, pa-
trician and plebeian, to be treasured as
memorials of this happy day. In his hands
the distinguished Corbulo carried a floral
tribute of the rarest treasures from Rome's
most beautiful gardens, a present from the
Senate. ^

Several of these, shaken from their fasten-
ing by the motion of the chariot, had fallen
to the stones of the roadway. One of them,
blown by chance winds from the route of
the procf sion, passed through a crack in
the wall oi a certain subterranean dungeon
And the blossom brought a kindly smile to
the sorrowful face of a beautiful prisoner.
Surely this was worthy of being the prettiest
flower's destiny ! And if it only had had
consciousness and a pair of speaking eyes !

CHAPTER VIII

THE E(iYPTIAN A(iAIV

The evening of the triumph.
A huge fortress frowning on one of the
Roman streets.

Beneath the fortress a subterranean dun

geon.

" Perhaps this flower may be a blossom
from the orchards of some peasant dwelling
in peace beyond the Palatine," a voice was
saying, " for it has the fragrance of humility.
It may have slept on the fair bosom of some
maiden of Rome, perchance the daughter of
the Emperor— for it has the form of beauty.
Or it may have dropped from the strong
hand of some conqueror returning in tiiumph
to his native land. Better still, it may be a
lily from the grassy slopes of l*alestine or
the quiet valleys, from the hills of Bethlehem,
or the groves of Nazareth. No, it cannot
be ! That loved land lies too far away across
the blue waters of that waveless sea. And
yet, O sweet flower, I thank thee for the
message from the Father thou dost bring
this lovely slave. Thou art crushed, as I,

■'

•II

hut thy spirit is not broken — nor mine ! I
cannot see thy tinted petals, yet I kiss thee
for thy beauty. I love thee for tiiy purity."

It could be the voice of no one but Zerola.
And as it ceased if you had been near enough
you might have heard the low regular breath-
ing that tells of falling alseep. Night had
already come, although the girl rlid not
know it. To her all nights were days, all
days were nights, all time an infinite calm of
eternal darkness

Sometime after the voyage from Jerusalem
to Rome, whither she had been sent the
morning after her imprisonment, as the slave
for the wife of the general, who had been
on a visit to Pilate from the capital of the
empire, Ze!X)la had seemingly become quite
blind. Doubtless this was trom the principle
that if any part of tlie body is not used it
soon loses its strength.

The dark beauty of her large bright eyes
remained, but sight was gone. Blind ! No
more to wander in waving woodlands and
see in caverns of the arching pines the
Temples of the Father. No more to follow
the crooked curves of noisy brooks and see
in their winding waters a picture and a pro-
phecy — the history of nations, the destiny of
mankind !

> ■O ii( fii#6^ Jiiife«*s«^feJ

M^in

And yet this very blindness kept Zerola
from seeing some of the gloom amid which
she seemed doomed to die. But why conceal
the truth ! The girl knew it all. Two long
years had she languished in those cankering
chains. Two years slept with pitiless ston<^?'
above on colder clay beneath, a pile of mo' «i
with a bundle of straw having been hea >; d
in one corner of the dungeon for a L^d.
Each pillar though gaunt and hard, each
slab through dead and hearth ss, was a friend.
Full well the captive knew the weary way
around that lonely tomb, for years ancl years
ago her prison had been a sepulchre — as if it
were not now ! No windows dispelled the
dreary darkness of that dismal grave. True,
there were crannies and cracks in the walls,
but only one let in the light. And over it
had been placed bars of iron, to keep a
demon out — but surely now to keep an angel
in ! Every day through this narrow crevice
the sunbeams used to come and try to bring
some hope from the great world outside.

Zerola waited for their coming and knew
the moment of their going. By their beck-
oning cheering rays her rusty shackles were
gilded. But chains of gold hurt just as much
as chains of iron.

Those visitors from the skies were strong,
yet very weak. How could a few wandering
rays of sunlight alter the foulness of her cell,
the hardness of her crusts ! The single meal
a day lowered on a rattling chain through a
hole in the dungeon ceiling was ample
enough, but of such repulsive food, that
Zerola sometimes could not touch it, and was
glad to hear the distant echoes of the footfalls
of the guard dying away beyond the bolted
doors of brass and iron hanging in the long
corridors of stone, ever death-like in their
stillness.

How many chapters of the volume of her
life were now written the captive could not
tell. But often, with comforting hand, did
memory turn back the beloved pages of her
youth and the blind slave wasting, though
not pining, in the sepulchre dungeon saw in
a book that needed no light of taper or of
sun, the pictures of her girlhood days. And
again the child of Palestine lived in Naz-
areth. For so it seemed to her — she thought
so often of the loved days that now were
past and gone.

*' How happy were those bright hours,"
Zerola would remind herself in order to
chase away some of the gloom of her damp

WM ,ji

cell athwart whose divsmal darkness would
sometimes glance a gleam of joy, " when with
my brother, my beloved brother, I played
bener.Ui the waving palms and ran among
the groves in my native land. No freer flew
the swallows ! ''

Ilecalling a pleasant past has made many
a (Captive feel less forsaken. How like a
creative angel is imagination ! It can even
people the loneliest prison with the forms and
faces of mother, father, brother, sister, lover.
The men of imagination rule this world.
And the women of imagination rule these
men. It is able to set up thrones, build up
honjes or knock down dungeon walls.

" And in the evening," she went on,
'' when father had finished hio work and
mother could leave for a short time our two
baby boys, the younger merry, as the elder
gentle, would we three walk along the hill-
side slopes sleeping in the twilight, along the
darkening shores of quiet waters lulled to
rest by softest winds, and speak together of
tlie folding past and opening future, speak of
that dark night when my father and my
mother, as two travellers from Nazareth,
lodged in Bethlehem. And lo, at the dread
hour — yet the angels' hov^r — above the grreii

■;»ap%^,

fields, above the blue hills, in the dark and
silent sky the star of the Christ was shining
to tell the children of men that a man was
born who, by a life of sacrifice and self-devo-
tion, was to show them the golden way of
life — love to man the holy light that guides
the soul to God — who was to be the Saviour
of mankind, who was to teach by word and
deed that wondrous truth whereby are fused
the human and divine, whereby the sins and
sorrows of earth shall be w4ped away, where-
by justice and harmony shall be king and
queen of every nation and rule in world-wide
empire — the Creator a Father, humanity a
family, the Fatherhood of God, the brother-
hood of man."

Zerola moved restlessly. In the stillness
of her dungeon she usually slept long and
deep. Perhaps that was the chief reason
why she had survived so well. The kingdom
of heaven was within her, and it is always
a kingdom of peace. So sleep gave her ob-
livion and she was spared the racking mental
torture which men who have passed years in
solitary confinement describe as maddening
and insupportable. But on this night, the
loud huzzas of the crowds in the streets pene-
trated to the subterranean dungeon and dis-
turbed her rest,

** There must be life and movement there,"
she thought, " those shouts come from people
who are free and happy."

She was resigned to her lot. Zerola was
truly Jewish in fortitude. But youth and
natural vivacity would assert themselves and
force upon her mind the grim contrast be-
tween her lot and that of other j^irls in Rome.
For a moment after waking she felt resent-
ful. Then reproaching herself she forced her
reflections into a channel where as experience
reminded her, there was always tranquility.

" Let me recall that morning," she said,
** when the clouds of a threatening storm kept
the struggling sun-rays from shining on one
of the cohorts of Rome, marching through
the streets of Nazareth, dragging into exile
a young man, afterwards found to be the
prince Ben Hur, who, for some crime against
the oppressors of his native land, an acci-
dent, the people said, had been condemned
to toil the remainder of his life as a galley
slave. And then my brother came into the
street. And, oh, how kind was he — so much
a man that holy angels might stand in the
shadow of his cross and say to all the world :
this was a God ! And Jesus saw the youth
lying in the chaius. Instantly there was

- ^

■

^i pifl

.^WHrt-

I ■

coinpa.ssiou in his eyes, and in his hands.
Such a look of mysterious sadness darkened
the poor youth's countenance, so torn were
his garments, so harsh were the soldiers, that
the smile of human gratitude upon the cap-
tive's face which thanked my })rother for his
kind deed was enough to soften the scowls
and sweeten the curses of those heartless
lloman warriors who seemed to think it an
insult to the glittering eagles of their
haughty Emperor that a Nazarene should
dare to give a cup of cold water to a slave.

" O, Jesus, the slave in his chains in Naza-
reth thanked thee for thy compassion, and
now the slave in her dungeon in Rome thanks
thee for thy lesson.

" On the fatal day in Jerusalem when f
saw the mob and the priests scourge and
stone that helpless man, who b} his many
wounds would have been even to his mother
unrecognizable, then in my soul rose the re-
membrance of thy noble deed on the streets
of Nazareth. Then I resolved that J, too,
wouid give a cup of cold water to one of the
chi'dren of our Father.

"• And for that T am separated from my
mother, from my father, and from my lover,
and buried in this sepulchre T fear for ever.

row

" Yet I had rather die in tliis dayless
damp, this lightless gloom, and know that I
have walked in thy holy footsteps of sacri-
Hce and self-devotion, than roam forever in
some paradise of cloudless clime and starry
skies, and have in memory's haunted cham-
bers such ever-crying spirits as the bitter re-
morse and cliiii'ini' •'uilt of a urotlier's blood."

The Jewess stopped a moment, walked to
the crevice. The evening breeze was coming
in. She thoujjrht of the free brij^ht world
without, and spoke aloud :

" But wrong is bitter, too, and stinging.
Why should I be the victim of such in-
justice ? "

Just then the clanking of chains was
heard on the stones of the silent corridors
above her tomb, and Zerola recognized the
footfalls of the sullen slave, whose duty it
was to bring her food and lower it through
the aperture in the ceiling of her dungeon ;
a slave whom she had of course never seen,
yet near whom she seemed to feel a presence
not unknown.

He had never spoken. To-night a strange
sensation came over her as she stood listen-
ing to the chain being lowered. It reached
the floor. The girl did not touch it. She

(^«r.'--.T'!3^^^g*!aB

felt as if she did not want to. Tlie guard
above became inpatient. He shouted to her :

" Your bread, your bread."

Zerola shrank back as through from the
cold edge of a sword. A shriek rang through
the prison :

" Karmes ! "

And still another cry in that girlish voice
echoed along the stony corridors :

" Karmes ! "

' i

CHAPTER IX,

THE UPSETTIN(J OF PLANS

Could you have seen the Egyptian as he
walked away from the aperture in the ceiling
of Zerola's dungeon that night you would
have looked upon a prisoner-guard who might
have suited some sculptor as model for a
statue of crafty disappointment.

" How strange," he was thinking, " that
those Nazarenes should have obtained per-
mission to carry away the body of Thaeon
from the Damascus Gate after the throngs
had dispersed. The wretch ? And Arni told
me that in washing and preparing it for the
grave, signs of life were observed. So Thaeon
is not dead ! Well, well ! I wonder where
the youth is now? I suppose he is search-
ing for Zerola. Most likely. Fool ! But
he'll find her, and when he finds her ~
perpol ! He could as easily find a sandal
in the desert. Perhaps this very moment he
is crossing the hot sands, perhaps he is in
Alexandria, or in Athens, or— in Rome!
Ha, ha ! I>ut she's safe."

And he tossed the chains on tlie floor

fiS

..*mni^

: ii;

Ilii

toward Zorola's cell, niutterin;;; as lio drow
them back rattling :

"Oh, she's so safe ! Ha, ha!"

The Egyptian's lot was now only one
remove better than that of his victim.
Karmes and Saul had left one factor out of
their calculati(jns. And that factor was the
presence of Cor})ulo at the palace of Pilate,
Naturally neither could foresee that the
wealthy lioman would he inipressed with the
beauty of the young Jewess and determine to
send the girl to his wife as a slave. And
what Corbulo wanted, Pilate would take care
should 1 granted. It is ever this way in
human o* signs : some factor is omitted from
the prol)lem as you work it out so cleverly
on the tablet of the mind But a man of an
intriguing nature never accBpts defeat with-
out a struggle. So Karmes followed the
slave to Rome.

On this night as the Egyptian went back to
his own room, he paused for a moment at the
grated window to listen to the noise of the
city. But there were sounds nearer to him
that arrested his attention. A man beneath
the window was giving instructions to a score
of others. Karmes pressed his swarthy coun-
tenance afijainst the bars and listened.

'Hi

the tin I'd iiitiM*-
the

To-niglit in

dozen muttering

" Gladiators, remember
ruption is the signal.
Forum ! ''

Answers came from a
throats.

"The third?"

" Tn the Forum ! "

*' We swear !''

" It shall be done."

These words wore evidently the conclusion
of a speech. But there were enough to make
known to the guard at least the vocation of
the conspirators. Well might it have been
if he had known the conspiracy — and told it.

However of what was about to happen
before another sun would dawn in Rome
Karmes little thought as he stood at the
prison window and watched the gladiators
drawing theii- daggers as they took the
solemn oath, saying :

" We swear, we swear ! To-night in the
Forum ! "

ii^m^miimmmimmt '

"WT^kiit.f'-*^^^^

CHAPTKK \.

: .III

M !

I' I

i I

,ii t

AMONG THE FLASHES

DuRiNCJ the past two years Saul of Tarsus
had become a Nazarene.

Hearing of Zerola's imprisonment he
earnestly set about the task of finding her.
On account of the record of her sentence
having been destroyed by the jailer in Jeru-
salem, who was intriguing with the com-
mander of the ship wliich conveyed her to
Home, the task of ascertaining her where-
abouts was exceedingly difficult. Karmes
had succeeded in securing the co-operation
of the captain of the galley which was to
carry Zerola from Jerusalem.

Paul had searched diligently in Arabia for
her, then he had travelled to Athens, Corinth,
Ephesus. But there had come no success.
Now he enlisted the services of Pilate's
friend, Corbulo, who was himself seeking the
slave, and also the captain who had dared to
set aside his will.

" Corbulo, farewell," said the apostle, ex-
tending his hand.

" Farewell," answered the Roman, his

voice apjjarciilly tclliii*; liis c(>in[)«'inio!i thai
feelings the couMtiuiance had l)een kept from
expressin*^ were at contliet in his mind.
Rf^ceiving a lett(M* from his friend, vviiicli he
at once concealed Ijeneath his toga, the
g(;n(^ral and the aj>ostle separated.

The two men liad heiMi slowly walking
along one of the secluded avenues near the
Til>er. Little had they thought that the
subject of their conversation was th(;n so
near as to be listening to the great bell toll-
ing in the Capitol, announcing in mournful
and muffled tones the death of the Emj)eror.

Th(5 general had prcjceeded on his way but
a short distance whc^n he drew forth the let-
ter, broke it open, and in the characters of
the Grecian language read :

" Paul to Corbuli) :
" Most noble friend, peace :

" If the slave be not found before mid-
night, write to me at Nazareth. J thank
thee for obtaining the permission of the
Senate allowing me to visit my home. Have
T not sworn 1 Never shall my pledge be
broken. Before the nones of October, Paul
will return to Rome. Before to-morrow's
sun shall shine upon thy legions, thy swift
galley will b(^'ir me leagues upon the watei".

T3T»i??fe/;««««ez

" I Jut now I go to visit tlie Kjfyptiaii
woman tluit dwells across the Tiber. Still
she refuses to ])ecome a Nazarene Friend
to the followers of the Christ, forget her not.
She it was who sheltered the holy mother of
him who is now the Saviour of the world,
when l)efore the wrath of Herod, Joseph and
Mai'y found refuge in that lanvd where once
their race were slaves. O Roman, remember
the Egyptian ! But l)eware ! Thou knowest
the ti'uth— the woman longs to slay thee.
Her love is deeper than the Nile, but her
ha^e is stronger than the pyramids.

" Soon, O Corlmlo, I will preach the reli-
gion of humanity to the cliaipi-kings of Jtaly.
Once more the proud citizens of the Si^ven
Hills shall hear the despised story of Calvary.
Ay, Paul will uphold the cross of the
Nazarene in the very Forum of Rome !

" Rebuke not ti)y friend.
" Peace to thee, Coi-bulo.

"Again farewell.

" Paul."

This letter the Roman re-read, then
placing it carefully away, proceeded. A
group of Senators greeted the general as he
emerged into a more cr'owdbl street of the
city, and together they hurried off to attend

^01»^

^•^

the funeral rites at the palace of the Em-
peror. Magnificent they were, royal and im-
perial !

Maay days were consumed in the per-
formance of these rites of the dead. Under
the care of a body of functionaries, called
pollinctores, the body was prepai'ed for burial
01 cremation, according to the wishes of the
d"^eased or his friends, and these prepar-
ations were on a scale commensurate with
his kingly position. On the eighth, day the
b »dy was conveyed to the mausoleum on a
•golden bier amid the sorrowful music and
lamentations of an empire In the cortege
were thousands upon thousands of the Roman
nobles and princes. The sons of the deceased
went veiled and the women beat their
breasts. The capital was plunged in gloom
while these ceremonies lasted. During the
period of scjrrow after the interment, when
the days of mourning were concluded, a
funeral feast was sprea<l and die nation then
resumed its wonted serenity.

Zerola, at the hour these solemn cere-
monies were dravving to a close, was lying on
the floor of her prison, her head resting in
calm repose against the iron bars across the
crack in the wall.

pJiV^nMiii.ir'iii'iiariMMiiiiiiMijpitiiiiwi,?.

MBS

" WlK^tlier is it nobler,'' the girl was
thinking, for slic was no pjissionless angel,
" to bear the troubles of luisfortune, or to
strive for freedom ? JJut I will, I w ill be
free I Had I lil>erty, I might again labor
among the poor in Jerusalem -as on that
fateful nr;oining. Had T liberty, I miglit
again help my mother in our home at Nazar
eth. And more, I might again return the
fond greeting— why should I be ashamec' to
say it?— the kiss of my lr)ver, and walk with
liim }>y tlie I)lue hills and laughing streams
of Galilee. Where thou a-t now, my beloved,
T do not know : nor do I suppose that thou
eanst tell where is thy Zerola. Yet I feel
that supreme iiappiness, the consciousness
that I am loved by the man I love. Still,
sometimes 1 fear that we have been separated
forever ! But, to-night, as the changeless
stors look down upon us, T know that thou
art thinking of me. For I love thee : I love
thee Thaeon, more than "

Suddenly Zerola was aroused from these
rejections. She shrank from the bars in
very terror. The giil thought she heard
again the dnnid tones of that voice which
slie last had heard ui'ging on the mob in
Jerusalem.

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letard
hich
lb ill

The voice was drowned a moment in the
shouts of the people. Again the Forum was
silent.

Had that man of so scholarly an appear-
ance come also to Rome to persecute 1
Surely Zerola had suffered enough I

The girl creeps closer to the bars. Listens !

The man is addressing the po})uhice. In
the tumult she can hear oidy here and there
a phrase or sentence :

" As a greater tlian 1 hatli said, Though I
speak with the tongues of men and of angels,
and have not charity, T am bec(jiae as sound
ing brass or a tinkling cymfjal . . . As
an Athenian poet — "

" Quote no Greek in Home ! " sJioutfcfJ O^ie
of the crowd, whom the spenker, cMi^ld lie
have seen, would at once have ift(!OgnJ/.fed ^is
one of the leaders of the gladiators then ho
numerous in the capital.

"As one of the poets hafcli wilM-firi," coi^-
tinued the speaker, " we aie also his off
spring . . . for God lialli made of one
blood all nations of men . . . The com-
mon origin of the human race, and the com
mon yciarnings of the liuman heart
theref(»re it is that I preach tlie kingdom
foreseen alike by poets and philosciphersj

"9''

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which they both join in predicting and aid in
establishing ... a kingdom v^ here
there is neither Greek nor Jew, Barbarian
nor Scythian, bond nor free ... a
kingdoiM whose one hiw is love — love to God
and our fellow-inen."

But Zerola seemed to feel a charm of
mellowed strength about the voice of the
man now addressing the people in the
Forum, which in addition to his theme — the
religion Jesus taught by word and deed —
caused her to conclude that it could not pos-
sibly belong to the leader of the mob who
had caused her imprisonment. Still, so glad
was she to hear the gospel of the Nazarene,
she again listened eagerly.

The Forum now thronged with a vast
crowd, over whom the speaker was gaining
that mysterious power of elo(|uence, as he
continued :

" As time sweeps on the false passes awKV,
and the true climbs upward to the throne.
And he that wears its crown rules with more
tlian any monarch's power.

" i^ut against the vvorld's progress the
palace and the temple are linked in solemn
leHgue. The friends of might, the foes of
right are prince and priest — who win lir:}'s

^rA

bread l)y swiiifijing sceptre and censer. Doves
and roljes are for them. Kags and scorpions
for the people.

" But both are doomed to perish. As in
the physical world, so in the religious, there
is decay and growth ; and ever from the
grave of buried shrines and the wreck of
ruined thrones shines out the light of truth,
speaks out with thunder tones the voice of
justice.

" Night is the pledge of coming day, and
in due course its Ijeams illume the world.
From out the darkness always gleams th<*
morning sun. The hated and despised of
one age are sometimes destined to become
the mind-kings of the next, and their very
name is worshipped. Thus let it be with the
imperial Nazarene I

" Men and matrons of Home, look now
across the darkening sky of the Campagna.
See ye yon cloud, warning of a coming storm '?
Behold therein a picture of your destiny —
ay, a prophecy of your doom. Already the
forests of the North swarm with men sworn
to hui'l death to the city of the Seven Hills.

" Oh, Home, thy sun is sotting in lu^ver-
ending night I Proud city, thou art hasten
ing to an eternal grave ! "

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But there was one in that listening crowd
who wished not to hear such words. Cor-
bulo saw the corruption which was destroy-
ing the spirit of patrician and plebeian.
Still the general cared not to think that
Rome might ever find a grave.

As the orator enlarged upon this theme,
Corbulo turned and walked away.

He had not gone far when, just as he en-
tered the shadow of a huge statue, a woman
grasped his arm. It was on the Appian
Way. The night was now dark, he could
scarcely see her face. Only a few moments
elapsed, however, when a Hash of lightning —
for the storm to which reference had been
made in the Forum, n as approaching rapirjly
— revealed to the Roman the hard features
of the Egyptian to whom Paul had referred
in his letter.

Jjimg and sulh/j liatred had given the wo-
rpan a scowl which one could easily have
seen was not hers by nature. The last
known living descendant of tbe Pharaohs —
a fact wliich ha(i causeil her exilement from
her (//itive land — she once had been, il not
b<autif(d, at least a pretty certainly an

attractive child, worth* of bt^r royal *®«^
tors. Now she was im^t^ o! 1 ;. »m

whom children m=>tinctiv«lv shrink.

mM^Hh^tsiMi

((

" Ha, ha ! " she cried in a liittcr lau^'li,
the Egyptian at last has found the Roman.
Corbulo, if yon river were tlie Nile and not
the Tiber," glancing toward it, " before an-
other lightning flash thy flesh would be as
lifeless as this marble," and the woman
raised her bared and bony arm, and with a
rusted dagger pointed toward the statue
standing cold and spectral-like in the rain.
Though I dare nob kill thee — else I would —
yet, torn by thee from friends and home, an
exile in this hated city, here I stand and
hate and curse thee, curse thee with a wo-
man's — ay, with a hag s curse ! Upon thy
perjured head shall \ye wreaked tke wrath
of fallen ni«>narchs ; and beyond the tomb,
in caverns of t-ternai darkness, thou shalt
writhe forever in the awful agonies of a death-
less dying, for fiends shall hound thy spirit,
aod to crush thy fatei soul with the tiercest
tortures of revenge, tiae very iaeav ens shall
join with hell ! '

'' Egyptian,' calmly rnterrapted Corbulo,
** thy curse I scorn, but thy life — "

** Is mine," she shouted, plungijag her
weapon at him, "for the sake )f re«eD|

" No," he replied, warding oflf the blow
But she sprang at him.

I }}

imk

** Take that ! " she shrieked.

" No, no ; I would rather take — thy life."

A dagger gleamed a moment in the light-
ning, then a cry was heard. The steel had
pierced the woman's heart, and she, in whose
royal veins coursed the haughty blood of
Egypt's Pharaohs, lay dead on the stones of
Rome.

But Corbulo was watched ; two women
had seen him through the window of a house
behind the statue.

He looked a moment on the corpse, then,
placing a cloth over its face, walked away.

And as he walked his thoughts were in a
far-off land ; in a palace built on the ruins of
an old Egyptian temple, on the banks of the
flowing Nile. A most fascinating vision was
alluring his mind. He saw — but why di-
vulge the reverie he ended with so signifi-
cant a muttering :

" This passion in its blinded power would
hurl me from the future's throne ; this pas-
sion must be crushed."

The storm was now raging at its fiercest.
Fearless as Corbulo was, a man whose per-
sonal courage in battle had (jften inspired
the bravest of the legions, yet as he saw the
lightning flash and glare, and heard the

.'^"-j^-J-U-i, '^t^-^f.

thunder crack and rumble, the slayer of the
Efj^yptian woman trembled beneath the
fancied anger of the gods.

Soon he was within reach of the preacher's
voice.

" Speaking s( ill," thought Oorbulo. " Tlie
gladiator dehiys long. If I remember r-ightly,
the third interruption was the signal agreed
upon by the conspirators. Paul passed off
the first. Surely h'> cannot suspect the
priests. They pray by day, but by night — !
Yet I will defeat the holy plotters," he mut-
tered. " I will save the preacher from the
lion and the Tiber."

He hastened to the Forum. There, instead
of a scattered few, was a crowd still blacker
and denser, although moment by moment the
wild fury of the storm was growing greater
and more intense. Seemingly the theme of
the orator had changed. To silent and eager
thousnnds he was now speaking the thoughts
of his very soul.

Corbulo had reached the edge of the mul-
titude. Now watching the scowls of the
clouds, now scanning the faces of the people,
he pushes his way through towards the
preacher.

" How fierce the storm," he thinks, " how

■ i ';,''!

til'll

swift tlu! rain. In north or south sings no
nightingale, gleams no star. The heavens
mock, scorn the earth. Again I feel the
Egyptian woman's clutch, hear the hag's
curse. But why do I fear ? Am T a child ?
Such spectres, I despise them. What magic
power keeps this crowd so silent in the
storm 1 "

This last question was addressed to one of
the listeners. IWoro the man had time to
answer, however, the speaker had directed
the attention and gaze of all to a board which
hung almost above his head. On it was the
superscription :

JESUS OF NAZARETH

THE KIN(J OF

THE JEWS.

That Pilate wrote in Greek and Hebrew
and Latin, which Paul had read last when
he stood and watched the weeping group of
mourners surrounding Golgotha, when they,
with feelings and thoughts the world can
never knov/, beheld the Son of Mary die for
mankind, on the cross of Calvary.

" Ten such mighty souls," thought Corbulo,
" and in as many years all Romans would be

■A

Nazarenes. But where are the priests and
their minions ! "

He glanced around. Then his face grew
stern ly passionate.

*' T see the gladiator ! He is i ising — he
speaks- interrupts. O gods ! Can it be the
third? It is— it is the signal ! J hear the
clash of their sworn daggers. He too, sees
them — yet trembles not. Priests and gladi-
ators rush on — on. See them ! On for their
victim's blood I "

Crash — crash !

A roar — a rumble.

The Forum a seething mass. The audience
a mob. The Capitol in flames !

The deadly lightning has fired the house
of the Caesars !

On rush the mob — crushing, trampling the
fallen and the falling. Cries and shrieks of
terror, mingling with curses and yells of ven-
geance, make more awf\ii the intense and
sullen glare of the distant flames, as they
devour the timbers and lick the gold from
the tumbling dome of that proud palace and
proclaim with forked tongues of fiercest warn-
ing the impending doom of Rome ! Corbulo
hastens on with the mob, thrusting in his
haste to right and left the weaker and the

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slower. Columns of dense black smoke,
bursting here and there with flame, tell him
that other buildings have suffered by the
lightning.

Afar, he hears the faint cry of a girl — it
seems a voice not unknown ! He leaves the
roadway, guided by the voice. It draws
nearer, yet grows fainter. Men .and women
in terror ! Palaces in flames ! Thunder crash-
ing ! Still Corbulo rushes on — impelled by
a strange power within, drawn by a mysteri-
ous cry without. He passes the statue, ncars

his destination it is the sepulchre ! The

lightning has wrecked it ! The Roman heeds
not the inscriptions on its broken marble. He
stands on its ruins amazed — for now the
tumult drowns no voice, the tomb is silent as
the dead ! No sound of life — or death —
issues from that living grave.

'' I was deceived," he cries aloud, " it was
not the slave's voice. A fancy, a dream, a
hope— perchance an echo from the crowd "

He listens, though : eagerly listens.

A suppressed cry !

A moment —he is in the tomb. All is
dark there, shadowy as that dim unknown
to whicti it leads. He is creeping over the
broken masonry, over the crumbling skel-

't 3;

etons. lie vvai^:s for those streaks of elec-
tricity to flash. How long it seems, how
dark the dungeon.

"Why does the lightning not appear?"
Oorbulo wonders.
It comes !
But what a scene its light reveals. There

'''^. wl '"?"^'^' ^^^^ by three fallen stones,
vyith the Hower in her hand, lies the blind
slave -/Jerola of Nazareth !

CHAPTER XI.

COltnULOS HESOLVE

** What a picture for an artist to paint? "
mused Niane, as she stood holding back the
curtains and looking into the room in their
palace, where Zerola lay, and slept and
dreamed.

There she rested, sweet as many an Eastern
vision, a lovely face framed in rippling black
hair.

" My husband must see the picture,"
thought Niane, us she looked upon the girl.
"Corbulo, Corbulo," she called. "Come!"

The Roman approached the curtained al
cove, and looked down at the slumbering
form.

" She has suffered much," he remarked.
" No lapse of happy years writes those marks
on the brow. Only pain, mental and physi-
cal, can do that."

" But is she not lovely 1 " asked his wife.
'* I think she is more beautiful because of the
record of sorrow and agony written on her
face. Those raven tresses and well-defined
eye-brows and long dark lashes, sucli a coun

tenance could never have looked so noble
and impressive when it was lighted up with
smiles, as it does now in woe.'

"It is the face of a living tragedy," res-
ponded Corbulo.

" Pure Jewish, I think you said 1 "

" Yes, and of the royal line."

" Indeed ! She traces her ancestry back
to Solomon ?"

" To Solomon the Magnificent, and far be-
yond him."

" It is a strange lace that Hebrew one."

*' Most strange, Niane. And not easily
controlled, as all our governors aver. They
are proud, ardent, sensitive, remor.-eless, vin-
dictive, revengeful."

" What a catalogue ! It is indeed descrip-
tive. Is it accurate, Corbulo 't "

" Their men are fierce and cruel, their wo-
men as implacable as they a*e beautiful.
They are all religious with extraordinary in-
tensity. Their faith seems to be the essence
of their being They have no poetry but
their psalms, no culture but their devotion,
and no learning but their history. To make
money and to have a clean ritualistic record
are the two principles of their lives. Their
supreme good is sunmied up in two words —

trm

'i '

gold and God. Superstitious and avaricious
beyond any race that our Roman arms have
sui3dued, they seem to be oblivious to all
else."

'* Did you hear much of them, Corbulo,
when you were in Jerusalem 1 " asked Niane.

" Yes, Pilate told me a great deal. He
said that they were so fanatical on matters
of i-eligion that they felt more angry toward
a man who teaches docti'ines opposed to their
creed, though his life may be excellent, than
they do toward a low criminal whose creed
is right."
. *'Is it possible?"

" He said he had frequently known of
their punishing some man who had uncon-
sciously connnitted an .act that they regarded
as sacrilege, with a heavier penalty than they
inflicted on a murderer."

;"I have heard," added Niane, "that it
was so at the trial of the Nazarene. They
preferred to have mercy shown to a robber
than to that blameless Teacher. Did you
learn much in regard to him when you were
in Palestine ! "

Corbulo looked searchingly at his wife be-
fore he answered. Was it possible that she
had been attracted by the new religion, and

was leading the way to a confession of the
fact 1 It was not unlikely. The Nazarenes
held beliefs that would appeal strongly to a
woman so gentle and noble as his wife. If
she had listened to that preacher in the Fo-
rum an hour or two ago, she would certainly
have been moved. Cor])ulo glanced at
Niaae's face, but he could discover no evi-
dence «»f any unusual interest in the subject.
"I heard more of him from Pilate than
from any one else," was the response. " He
was greatly troubled about the gifted Gali-
lean. The Procurator is a careless, unscru-
pulous politician, so that his concern is the
moi-e surprising. He reproaches himself bit-
terly for yielding to the Jews in the matter
of the young philanthropist. He declares
that it was a most outrageously unjust prose-
cution, and there were circumstances at
the execution which affected the supersti-
tious side of his nature, and led him to fear
that he had incurred the displeasure of the
gods in consenting to his being killed. His
wife was sure of it."

" And said notliing to her husband ?"
" She warned him before ho pronounced
sentence. But Pilate did not hf^ed hei- war-
ning. "

" Why did he yield, Corbulo? ITe could
have saved him, I suppose. "Was the Procu-
rator not supreme ? "

" Yes, but he was placed in a delicate po-
sition. There were some facts in his past
administration that were not creditable, facts
which if they had been reported to Tiberius
would have precipitated a result very serious
to Pilate. When he hesitated to give up the
Nazarene to their fury, they intimated that
they would denounce him to the Emperor."

" And that threat was sufficient *? "

" Pilate was not afraid of what they might
say about him in the particular case of the
youthful preacher from Galilee, but he did
fear their exposing his whole record. He was
in the p(»wer of the Jews, and dare not dis-
obey them, and they knew it."

" But his yielding has not saved him."

" No, he has been summoned to Rome in
order to be tried."

*' And Claudia, his wife, is reported to
have become a follower of the Nazarene."

" So I have heard," assented Corbulo,
" though I doubt if it be true."

*' Did Pilate believe in his guilt?" Niane
asked.

" I think not. He told me that he was

convinced, felfc in his very soul, that the
man was innocent."

" Then why did he give so unjust a ver-
dict ?"

** Oh, Pilate does not trouble himself much
about such matters. It was evidently an
ecclesiastical charge that the Jews were
pressing and they added the charge of se-
dition to bring the prisoner under Pilate's
jurisdiction. They wanted him crucified and
they could not execute him for a religious
offence, so they declared that he claimed to
be a king, thus bringing him under the civil
law. Then Pilate was bound to deal with
him. He was embarassed."
By what ? "

By the man's contumacy. The Nazarene
would not plead. He seemed to resign him-
self to his fate. Pilate tried repeatedly to
get him to defend himself. But he would
not."

" It was all so sad," interrupted Niane.
" I have heard he was a very good man and
that he was kind and so helpful to the poor."

" You seem very much interested in him,
Niane. Be careful how you speak of this to
other people. His followers are in danger of
persecution even here in Rome. As you

((

know, there are many already in prison. I
think it is unjust. Hut it is danj^^erous to
show symjjathy with them. I admire the
Nazanine myself and have tried to shield his
followers, Ijut I have had to do it secretly
and be very discreet. This girl is a near
kinswoman of his."

•*A kinswoman of Jesus of Nazareth!"
exclaimed Niane, her eyes glowing with ex-
cited interest.

" Yes," said Corbulo. " I did not know
of the fact when I b(jught her, but I learned
it afterwards from Paul, who made the dis-
covery. 1 knew she came from Nazareth,
but 1 bought her only because I admired her
rare beauty and evident refinement and
thought you would like to have her to be at
once your slave and companion."

" But the relationship to Jesus '*

"She is his "

"Tell me, Corbulo." #

' "His sister !"

" Zerola a sister of Jesus?"

"Even so."
' " I must again see her, speak to her," ris-
ing and going toward the curtained doorway.

" A moment, Niane. A moment ! She is
sleeping. Let us not awaken her."

" And was she sold as a slave because of
this relationship 1 " Niane asked, ner eyes
moistening with tears of s^n^pathy.

" No, thjit fact was not disclosed. It ap-
pears she was known to be a follower of her
brother, but she would have escaped through
her obscurity, l)ut for an act of indiscretion.
The Jews were stoning one of the Nazarenes,
and Zei'ola happened to be passing. Her
sympathy was aroused when she heard why
they were stoning him, and she procured a
cup of water from a house near by and was
carrying it to the wretched man when the
fanatical crowd seized her, struck the cup
from her hands and called the attention of
one of the leaders to her."

'' Who was ? "

"Saul of Tarsus."

"Ahd " '. . ^ '

" He had her carried off to the court.
Next morning she was sold. The Jew seemed
vexed when I bought her." v v

" But what could he do ? " • >

"Nothing." ■> r •■,

"WelU"

" And there was an Egyptian with him
who appeared as though mad with rage. I
have since heard that he is now a prisoner in

Home. When Saul joined the Nazarenes he
learned who the girl was, and his sorrow and
remorse liave Vjeen terrible."

*' Yes," said Niane, " It would be strange
indeed if it were not so. Poor girl ! "

'* For years Paul has been searching for
the slave," continued Corbulo. " Her parents
he dared not meet. To tell the mother of
her daughter's fate he was ashamed. But
one morniiig, at one of the gates of Jerusa-
lem, the Damascus I think, on the very
scene of Thaeon's martrydom, almost at the
same hour as Zerola's enchainment, the
apostle came face to face with the woman
whose child he had enslaved."
" He met her mother ? "
"Yes." , '

*' Was she searching for him ? "
" No. She and her husband were on their
way to Egypt, having received a letter from
a friend there, which said that the jailer who
was the accomplice of the captain, had con-
fessed his guilt to an old priest — both are
dead now though — and thought to atone for
his crime by telling where she was imprison
ed."

" How did the mother treat him, Corbulo?"
" That I do not kno\y, Niane. Paul would
not tell me."

re
)r

This «|U«'sti<)i. the Roir.aii's wife asked out
of no idle curiosity, l)ut foi* a far different
reason. As lier liusband feared, she was
almost persuaded to })econie a Nazai'ene, but
bcsfore taking a step so perilous and perhaps
fatal, wished to know if the diciples of this
new religion regally did live the life of the
Crucitied. For it was that which was win-
ning her.

*' It is gi'owing lat(;, Corbulo." lifting her
face toward his. " Good-iJght."

"Good-night, Niane."

And as he kissed her it was with the blush
of youthful love, whose warmth had never
chilled, perhaps, because it was a passion
with them, deriving its beauty from a sin-
cere constancy, and its power from a suppress-
ed intensity. In addition to this, they both
knew that faithfulness seals love and makes
it changeless.

" Had I found that base Karmes," Corbulo
muttered, as he lay awake, surrendering him-
self to different thoughts, " I had sent him
where he might welcome the Egyptian wo-
mfin. But r am resolved I will tind him —
and when I tind him, may the gods use this
arm to swing their sword of vengeance."

:: I

CHAPTER XIT.

»■■,

IN THE ALCOVE

Just as next morning's sun came flowing
in the eastern windows, Zerola awoke. She
lay still for some time trying to realize what
had happened. The soft couch, the fragrant
odors, the clear air, were certainly not of the
dungeon.

" Where am I ? " she asked hen;elf half-
aloud.

Day after day for two lon;j years, the damp
earthern smell, the close fetid atmosphere half
choked her as she emerged from dreams to
consciousness. Dull, weary, oppressed, there
had been none of the exhilaration that she
had known on awakening in her home in
Nazareth. But on this morning the old sen-
sations seemed to have come back. And
what was that strange feeling in her poor
blind eyes ? It was painful at first, like the
thawing of some frozen member. Vaguely
distinguishable was something brilliant, whicn
she knew must be a stream of sunlight pene-
trating the darkness of the apartment.

** Am I dreaminjr still ? " she wondered.

Hhe closed her eyes, and the glory was shut
out. She opened them — it returned.

" Oh, what joy ! " she cried. For her eyes
were really resuming their functions. "I see,
I see I " And a prayer of gratitude ascended.

And the couch, what was that ? Zerola's
lingers strayed around its edgft, touching in-
quiringly delicate carving, soft silky cover-
ing and heavy tapestry. To one who had
lain night after night on the straw on the
ear til/ mould, this was indeed a strange
awakening.

Presently a sweet low voice fell on her ear,
and swiftly Zerola perceived a new evidence
of her returning sight, for the sunlight Avas
intercepted by something moving across its
path. The old knowledge and association
helpud her to recognize the moving thing as
a hiDiian figure, and by the robe and graceful
undulating movement, it must be the figu'-e
of a woman. The voice set the question at
rest, for it was a feminine voice, soft and

caressing.

" Are you awake, little one ? " i^; asked in
melodious accents. " Ah, I see you are.
Will you not rise and eat ? T will send my
maids to help you bathe and dress. Do not
hasten, all the day is your own. I shall re-
turn soon."

^ -^»

And the figure vanished from the room, as
silently as it came.

" Where am I ? " the girl said again half-
musingly. " But I will see."

So she arose from the couch and looked
around, though her eyes were not yet very
8t''ong. She saw the hea .y curtains hanging,
costly pictures, exquisite scatuary. On the
walls were swords and spears, antique and
bejewelled. And in several corners rare
flowers sent their perfume from sculptured
vases.

" Surely this is some rich Roman's palacr/'
she thouglit. " Perhaps I may be made a
slave again."

The thought filled her with abhorrence.

" O God," she cried, " do not let it be I
I have suffered enough ; I cannot be a slave.
No, no, no— T will not I"

She glanced around the luxurious room.
How was she to flee f lom here ! She
might run into the very arms of her captors
in some other part of the building.

" The woman said she would return,"
continued Zerola. I nmst escape. But what
I do, I shall have to do (juiekly."

She crossed to the window and looked out.
There was an attractive garden, and farther

off a blossom in ji; orchard. But the ground
was too far below where she was standin<(,

" I will try the doorway. It may open to
some dark corridor."

Rapidly and silently she stepped over the
patterned rugs to the left side of the cham-
ber, took hold of the curtains, drew them
aside slowly, almost stealthily.

" This way," she said, beneath her l)reath,
" I will go, for I think I see a staircase."

Then the girl listened. What was that
noise ?

" Men's voices. I cannot go throuijh this
doorway, I would be discovered."

Retreating noiselessly, she went to the
other side of the room, where was another
entrance.

" I wonder where it leads to ? Perhaps T
can escape through this doorway," drawing
aside the oriental hangings. " It is shadowy.
Good ! They cannot see me, and I can walk
easily. I am used to darkness."

And she took a step into the hallway, then
stopped. She heard the sound of music and
women singing. Then c^^ne the tripping of
graceful feet. Zerola rushed back into the
room.

" What can I do now ! " she asked herself

100

excitedly. "They are coming, tluj maids the
voice spoke of, coii)iiig to dress me — perJiaps
to bind me."

'J he Jewess gazed eagerly about the apart-
ment. The music was coming nearer.

"Do those s^urtains hide another en-
trance ? " she questioned, looking toward the
far end of the large room as her face lit up
with hope."

She liurried, or rather glided, quietly to-
ward them, took hold of them, listened a
moment to the footsteps coming.

" Now I shall escape, shall be free," draw-
ing the curtains quickly aside.

A scream — a shriek rang through the
palace. It was no doorway, merely an
alcove.

" Mother, mother ! " Zerola cried.

For there before her stood Niane's picture
— the painting of Mary the mother of the
Nazarene.

" O my mother ?" the young girl sobbed,
falling in tears upon the floor. Just then,
as the maids came into the room, the lost
daughter looked up into those whispering
eyes again and all the girl's heart seemed to
be melted into her voice as she sobbed :

" Mother— -mother ! "

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BEST OF NEWS

" You have been so good to me, but tell
me, what has happened ? Where am 1 ? "

*' You were taken out of your cruel prison
Zerola, and — " '

" Oh, I know, I know it ! " the Jewess ex-
claimed exultingly. " But this palace, this
room, your kindness, I do not understand "

" Corbulo, my husband, found you there
during the storm and the great fire last night
and brought you here. This is his home and
we shall protect you and try to make you
happy. You have been the victim of a
wicked plot but you are safe now, for you
belong to us. Have no fear. My husband's
influence is strong enough to save you from
your enemies. I will leave you now. But
answer me, is the story true which I have
heard that you are a near relative of the
young Teacher of Nazareth ? "

"Yes, it is true,"' Zerola responded. "I
am his sister. And I love him more it seems
to me than sister ever loved brother before
He is all in all to me."

102

" You iiKvan lie was. Ho is d(!ac1. I
li('ai<l of his vifuel deatli and was shocked at
its injustice."

*' Oh, no, Ik! is not dead I He is risen,
lie livf^s. With more than a liundred others
I saw liim after he was nailed to the cross."

" Well," said Niane, " we will talk more
of this later, when you have eaten and re-
posed. Perhaps your long imprisonment has
confused your mind. Crucified men do not
come to life again. Your intense afJ'ection
lias deceived you. We are apt to l)elieve
that what we wish is really fact But you
can tell me much that I want to know, and
I want you to speak to me of all you lemem-
})er of this wonderful Galilean philanthropist.
But first you must rest and recover."

A few hours later a slave led Zerola into
the spacious room in which Corbulo and
Niane were sitting. Corbulo was l>usy with
lettei's bi'ought to him by one of his soldiers.
Niane was at work on the exquisite em-
broidery in which, like other Roman ladies,
she was an adept. Zerola looked timidly
around as she entered. Her slowly return-
ing vision perceived the objects in the bright
light but vaguely and without accurate re-
recognition. She moved uncertainly but

lo:^

witli a native ^racc, and the rich garnieiits
witli wliicli Niane had ordered her to he
clothed, set oiF lier Htln; f(»rm to a perfection
that was indeed channi!i«»-. The slave, in
obedience to a gesture from Niane, led Zerola
to a seat near the general and his wife, and
retired.

" Good morning, Zerola," was Corbulo's
greeting in his genial voice.

" You have been so kind to me — oh. so
kind ! " faltered Zerola, taking his extended
hand.

"Do not mention it. We are more than
pleased to have you in our home."

After a few minutes the general added, to
supplement a remark by Niane :

" I know something of her story, but I
should like to learn all the facts from her
own lips."

"And I should be glad to tell you, if I
could. But I know so little."

" How^ was it that after buying you legally
in Jerusalem and sending you to my wife in
Home, 1 do not hear of you again until I
learn that you are in that dungeon, where I
found you last night more dead than alive.''

" J fear," answered Zerola, " that I cannot
give a connected account of the circum-
stances."

■«■

■■I

Mm
mm

I ; I , :

I 1 Tw

104

" Why not ? "

*' I do not know what really occurred. I
was taken on the first day of the voyage and
secluded, treated as a prisoner. When v/e
reached Rome I was confused with the great
city, was hurried from place to place and
finally thrust into the dungeon."

" But why did the captain of the ship
treat you so ? "

" Yes," said Niane, '' this is the very thing
we must find out. Whv was it, Zerola ? "

" The captain was not really to blame."

" That is strange," remarked Niane.

" But wait a moment," put in Corbulo,
listening.

" There was a man on the ship,'" continued
the Jewess, " who hated me."

" Because "

"Yes, what was the reason?"

" I would not give up my lover for him.
I think it was he who persuaded the captain
to treat me harshly."

" Was he an Egyptian ! " asked both the
Romans at once.

*'Yes," she replied.

"Karmes?" exclaimed Corbulo.

"The very man," responded Niane,

*' Or rather, the very reptile," suggested

105

li(;r hiis});infl. " T tliink you am probably
right, Zerola, about your misfortunes being
due to his influence."

"So deceitful, so treacherous," added
Niane. " Where is he now, Corbulo 'i "

"Punished."

" How ? "

" He was in the same prison with Zerola,
but not for what he did to her. Where is
he now ? Dead."

Corbulo had noticed several bodies in the
ruins of the prison, with all their life crushed
out by the falling masonry ; but had not the
time to examine them. Yet in the few quick
glances which he could get, he thought that
one looked very much like the carcass, as he
called it, of the plotting Egyptian, who had
persuaded the captain to betray his trust and
play him false.

Nevertheless the Roman was mistaken.
Karmes had escaped. And perhaps by this
time, the swarthy adventurer had learned
from the two women who witnessed the scene
by the statue, that Corbulo had killed his
sister. For Karmes was a half brother to the
hag. Hate and revenge, how strong they are!
To what would they next prompt the daring
Egyptian 1 Who can ttil 'i

■■?■

lOfi

TlM;duti(!S of his office deiiianding (Joihulo's
attention, he left his wife and Zerola togetlier,
while he went to meet his lieutenants. Niane
rose, and approaching the girl, said :

" You spoke just now of your lover, tell
me of him. Is he living?"

" Alas, I do not know."

" Why did he allow you to be seized and
sold ? Where was he then?"

"I parted from him in Jerusalem one night.
He promised to meet me in the morning to
accompany me to my home at Nazareth. I
have not seen him since. As I was going to
our meeting-place, I was seized and taken to
court. A zealot called Saul, who hates the
Nazarenes and was the cause of tlie murder
of my lover's father, a noble man named
Stephen, denounced me to the rulers of the
people. T was sold as a slave. Perhaps my
Th.i^eon never knew what became of me, or
he may be searching for me now.

" Poor child ! It is cruel to have used you
so, A curse on any man who robs a girl of
her lover. Do you know what has happened
to Saul ? "

" No." •

" He is now himself a follower of the
Nazarene."

107

" Saul a diciplo of Jesus ! " exclaimed Zer
ola ill astonishment. " Surely you are mis-
taken."

" Far from that. My husband knows all
the circumstances. Paul — he is now known
by that name — told him of them. Ft was a
very sudden affair, and Paul seemed to think
it was miraculous."

" It must have been so," agreed Zerola.
" Nothing less than a miracle could have
changed the man. He was very fierce and
relentless."

" But is now one of the most active of those
who preach for the Galilean. He is at pre-
sent in Rome.

"You know him?"

" No ; but Corbulo does."

" Has talked with him then ? "

" Yes, and has a great admiration for him,
thinks he is a wonderful man."

" Most gifted, richly endowed," acquiesced
the girl.

" Since he adopted the new faith, he has
grieved over your suffering and repented of
his share in bringing it about. He has sought
for you every where that he might restore you
to your parents."

" But could not find me."

108

'* Can you forgive liim for being the cauric
of your misery ? You said that the great
Teacher taught you to love your enemies.
That is a hard duty. VVas all his teaching
as contrary to human nature as that? Tell
me about him. I know so little, but I want
to know everything. I would have you stay
with me. But you must want to go to your
home, to your mother and to your — lover.
Well, you will stay for a time to tell us, Cor-
bulo and me, and then we will set you free
and send you back to Nazareth."

Zerola needed no urging to speak of him
whom her soul loved. Niane listened intent-
ly, asking many questions as the narrative
proceeded. In those days the good news was
carried so from one to another. There were
no books full of the story, no theologies re-
plete with cold and repulsive dogmas. Men
and women treasured up all they heard and
repeated it lovingly and tenderly. This was
an eloquent speaker — one who spoke from a
heart overflowing with love, who had looked
OQ that divine countenance, who had listened
to the heavenly voice and had seen much of
that life of sacrifice and self-devotion. Zerola
could not weary of her subject, and regretted
only that she was unable by any words she

109

could utter to present her brother an<l Saviour
to her hearers mind as he appeared to her
own. Then it was not doctrine nor ritual
that his followers talked of, but him. In
those early days righteous deeds were consid-
ered of more importance than nght deeds.
The diciples had but one theme, and that
was— Jesus of Nazareth.

Just towards the close of their conversa-
tion Corbulo returned. Niane had noticed
that the girl's eyes were becoming moist.

" Husband," she said, going forward to
meet him, *' I want you to do something for
me."

" Anything you ask, Niane."

" Emancipate Zerola."

Walking toward the girl, who rose to greet
him as he came, and taking both her hands
in his, he said :

" Zerola, you are free."

Surely this was the best of news. And
Niane added :

" To morrow you start for home."_

CHAPTER XIV.

■'I

DISCO verp:i)

A DAY later — and the girl of Palestine, set
at liberty by Corbulo and Niane, was in the
swiftest galley of the Roman general, speed-
ing towards her native land across the blue
waters of the Mediterranean. However, this
voyage was not waveless nor dreary ; a gentle
breeze helped them onward, on towards home.
It was a sea of pleasure.

Delayed by a storm, Paul had waited at
Myra until the arrival of the ship. Now he,
too, was on this great inland ocean around
which ancient kingdoms rose and fell, mak-
ing across the waters to his native land.
Stranger than chance, the scholar and the
slave, apostle and sister of the Na/:arene,
going home to Palestine in the same ship —
neither being aware of the presence of the
other.

" How bright the waters, how fresh the
wind, how clear the sky ! " thought the young
Jewess, as she stood looking toward the
southern horizon.

Now the blind slave is no longer a slave,
and more — no longer blind ; her temporary

Ill

loss of sight having been simply the result of
dwelling for a considerable p'Tiod where it
was impossible to use the eyes.

Sight restored ! Darkness gone I Sun-
shine come !

For many days the ship sailet] i>)errily on,
and Zerola felt tliat secret pleasure which
all girls love and deny, the pleasure of being
ardently lov^d by a noble man. For she
knew that Thaeon loved her with all the
intensity of a strong and passionate nature.
She was his soul's joy.

Yes, sunshine had indeed come. Very
soon she would be in Nazareth. And then
— what happiness !

But the sunshine always brings the
shadows. Thaeon, full of hope, was then
seeking her in Rome. The two lovers, each
seeking the other, were journeying in op-
posite directions. How often this same
misfortune befalls people in life ! Two
hearts that should be one go farther and
farther apart. Sometimes they drift, some-
times they journey with determination.
And then again it is for lack of information
which, if known, might change their whole
careers. And so these two travelled past
one another, as ships pass in the night.

112

Tliaeon's ({uest was like many a modern
searcli, not very satisfactory. He knew thao
the utmost caution was necessary. The clue
he was following in journeyiiifij to Rome was
of the slightest kind, but he was pursuing
that as he had others. They had failed him,
but love of the ardent kind that glowed in
his heart is never given to despair. He
arranged his plans on the voyage. He would
g(j first to some Nazarenes he knew and
inquire of them the way to gain access to
to C(-Tbulo's liousehold. He must learn first
if a slave answering to Zerola's description
had been brought into it two years ago.
That was the first step to be taken. If that
failed he would try the other clue that cen-
tred in Karmes, for Thaeon still clung to the
belief that the Egyptian was in some way
concerned in the abduction of Zerola.

With these plans arranged Thaeon landed
at Rome. He had some difficulty in finding
the Nazarenes of whom he had resolved first
to seek information. The prejudice against
them was bitter and they had sought safety
in hiding. Thaeon's inquiries were all met
by evasion. People would not admit that they
knew their place of residence, and in this
they were trying to protect the fugitives.

113

" A Jew — a Jew ! " they would whisper to
i^ch other upon hearing hini speak ; for,
although lie used creditable Latin, his tongue
l^etrayed his nationality.

^^ Yes, beware ! A Jew ! " would come in
breathy answer.

For the early Christians in Rome had no
enemies so dangerous or so relentless as the
Hebrews.

Days drew out to weeks, and still Thaeon
pursued his search without success. Every
morning he watched for an hour oi- more
outside the palace of Corbulo, hoping that at
some door or casement he might catch a
glimpse of the beloved face. Then he would
go away sadly to resume his inquiries for the
people of his own faith who he thought might
help him. Oh, had he but known that she
whom he sought was sailing toward lier
nitive land, thao her long trial was past, and
th it she was going with, joy in her heart to
Nazareth, hoping to find him there ! Had
he but taken courage and gone boldly to
Corbulo and asked him about Zerola, how
much toil and weariness and danger he might
have been saved.

" But," thought Thaeon, as this idea oc-
curred to him, " Corbulo is a distinguished

■

114

man ; thf great general would never receive
me No, no. Why, the Roman might even
liave me seized and cast into prison on the
charge of designing the liberation of one of
his slaves. And if ever I shall find Zerola —
but, no ~-I will find her 1"

So Thaeon wejit on blindly seeking. He
was running more risk than he knew. One
day he noticed that he was followed by dan-
gerous looking men, and he suspected that
some enemy w as becoming interested in him.

Karmes had seen Thaeon, and following
him, looking closely at him with his black
eyes, the quick brain behind that swarthy
countenance suddenly remembered who he
was. Then the Egyptian began to plot anew.

CHAPTER XV.

CROSSlNfJ A DESERT

Life often seems to be full of cross purposes.
Zerola was her wav to Palestine, count-
ing the days and hours until she should reach
a pretty home in >iaza?eth and lay her head
on her mother's bosom. And may it not be
wondered if she was longin«^', too, to see
Thaeon, and tell him how she had loved him
through all her sufferings ? He also would
be at Nazareth, she thought, and in a few
more days she would be with him, and their
long-delayed marriage would take place.
Vain hopes, both of them.

Mary and Thaeon, had they known of
Zerola's coming, would have been as eager
for it as she. The;y would have been at
Nazareth waiting to welcome her and pour
into her ears the glad story of love and sym-
pathy, wherewith we comfort the sorrowing
and help the sufferer to forget his troubles.
But they knew not.

Mary was in Egypt, hoping yet to gain
tidings of her long-lost daughter. Thaeon
was in Rome, seeking her place of conceal-

¥i

116

ment. It was to an empty and cU'serted nest
that Zerola was flying on the swift white-
winged vessel.

Disappointment mnst add its sliarp en-
venomed stab to the wounds already borne.
And who does not know how hard to bear is
t hat wound ? Who is there that has not
learned the sting of that laceration, the ache
fi'om that blow, the heart-sinking from that
crushing weight ? The mountains of life on
which we breathe the exhilarating air of
hope and joy are surrounded by the valleys
in which we pant for air, and our spirits
sink and our liml)s are heavy and benumbed.
We stand on the higher levels, looking oflf to
other heights near and far, glowing in the
sunlight and radiant with glory. Would that
we had wings as an eagle, that we might
soar from one bright spot to another. But
we can reach them only by descending into
the valley and ascending wearily and labori-
ously with feet bruised by the rocks and torn
by the briers of the thorny road. With
many a stumble and painful fall we go down
and climb upward, and the hours of exhilira-
tion on the mountain-tops are sepai-ated by
long intervals of toil and depressing sadness.
Knraptured on some cloudless peak, soul all

117

aglow, present golden and future roseate, the
joy we have seems only the prophecy of
greater happiness to come, while it is really
the prelude to sorrow, whose depths are
measured by the elevation on which we
stand.

All classes share the same experience, al-
though some stay longer than others on t\m
mountain- top. Less eager are they for new
joys and fresh delights, and are content to
enjoy without effort or anticipation. But
even to them the bitter water of disappoint-
ment is no unknown cup. They whom they
love and hope to keep ever at their side, die
or go to distant lands. Or the love that
seemed destined to grow and give fruit,
withers and dies, being unreciprocated. The
affection that seemed personal and disinter-
ested, proves to have been jnercenary, and
the discovery wrings the heart and drains it
of its life-blood. Our hopes withei-, our plans
are thwarted, our affections wasted. To
Zerola, as to Mary, the cup of disappoint-
ment must be presented, and it was already
mixed. What was life worth to this .spirited
girl without mother or lover? Without
tliese two, liberty and the recovery of sight
were only a mockery. Her elation on the

118

h ^

I •.

, . ;

■ ; ;

1
A,.

J^ . — .

voyage was preparing her for the more acute
suffering when she should find the emptiness
at the end of it. Mary was spared that pain
She hoped only for tidings, while Zerola was
hoping for the joy of personal reunion.

But even Mary's hope failed at last. No
sure intelligence of her daughter could be
obtained, and she set out on her long and
weary journey homeward, sick at heart and
despairing.

Egypt to Palestine— it was a lonely jour-
ney. Mary's way to Nazareth lay through
the desert of Paran, sandy and rocky, stretch-
ing from the historic country of the Nile to
the borders of that revered land watered
by the flowing Jordan.

Paran, though so barren, had for her a
loveliness and a sadness all its own. She had
crossed it more than once before and it was
hallowed to her by solemn associations. For
here her husband died and was buried. Plere
her forefathers had been laid to thqir long
rest a thousand years ago. Beside the cool
waters the palm trees threw soft waving
shadows on their graves. Beside the jagged
rocks, safe from the noon-day sun, their last
remains reposed, for many decades covered
by the sands. For here her ancestors, des-

110

pising the oppression of Pharoah and his
princes, had ceased to be a race of slaves.
Here was Sinai, destined to be forever sacred
to all the nations of the world. And many
a holy tale the prophets and the priests had
written in the Temple scrolls, made this
desert hallowed in her memor".

ft.

Far, farther than the eye can see, the dreary
waste lifts its barren almost lifeless bosom to
the hot yet cold caresses of the desert winds,
as they grasping toss the sea-like '^finds, and
whistling, moan and howl through the wild
caverns of the mountains. Far to the east
the cedars, tall and proud ^ extend oheir strong
arms and shelter the raven and the nightin-
gale. Far to the north Mount Serbal's gran-
ite slopes, engraved with ancient writings and
strange symbols, greet the first beams of the
morning sun and welcome the earliest twink-
lings of the evening star.

Twilight brings a mysterious calmness to
the desert, not the stillness of peaceful repose,
but rather a timid voiceless awakening. The
very sands beneath your feet seem trembling
to tell their dread secrets — well it is if your
camel keeps from stumbling over some grim
skeleton, well if yoiir cheek recoils not from
the fancied touch, the clanuny kiss of some

120

spectro seeuiing to rise from the dark graves
and flit adown the lonely caverns.

Here thoughts of all kinds crowd through
the human mind — thoughts simple and mys-
terious, noble and unworthy. Sometimes
angels from holier worlds than this, some-
times the enemies of men. Thoughts of the
dim dark past, of its sighings and its yearn-
ings, of its victories and its triumphs, of its
failures and its ruins. Thoughts of the dim-
mer unknown future, thoughts of immortal-
ity, or its longings and its beckonings — for
the soul shrinks from an eternal grave, and
so pn-using in the midst of this forever to
catch some echo of the past, some whisper of
the future, feels the places whereon it stands
is holy ground, feels its heart throb in unison
with the great warm heart of humanity.
Thoughts of riches and of poverty, of the
wealthy hundreds and the poor millions, of
bright happy homes of pleasure and of sweet-
est hope, of dark miserable hovels of pain
and despair, of children's faces curved with
virtue, of others seared with vice — and won-
ders if this be justice ! Thoughts of love and
thoughts of hate, thoughts of sorrow and of
joy, thoughts of things and of men, of being
and of doing. Thoughts worthy of the
hadow, thoughts worthy of the sunlight.

121

But memory is not always queen nor
thought at all times king. The mind knows
that he who hears the raven's cry hears also
the carol of the nightingale. And so yield-
ing to the charm of beauty, not less holy per-
haps, feels the thrill of an oriental night.

Paran was now in darkness, yet not silence.
Frequently the roar of a lion ransr through
the forest and echoed from the rocks of the
desert, heard only by one, the woman travel-
ling alone along the winding caravan rofid
which at the foo^ of Mount Serbs 1, or among
the shrivelled struggling herbage that fringed
the parched sands of the desert proper, could
easilj" be distinguished, but farther on amidst
the black-and-white drifts was entirely lost.
Though a leopard or a hyena sometimes rose
and straggled or galloped off to right or left,
it was not because it had been awakened
from its slumber by the tread of the camel.
For on being reminded that it v/as not of the
Bactrian but of the true Syrian breed, you
will at once perceive that that would be
as noiseless as stately, and that in curvature
of neck and color of body the dromedary
would not be without some of the grace and
charm of a white swan. The furnishings of
this ship of the desert were almost of the

mmm

122

1 'i'

; ! !

usual kind, except that no ornaments of gold
or silver shone or tinkled on either the har-
ness of the camel or the litter of the rider.

Just when a short distance from the edge
of the foliage bordering the trackless waste,
the woman spoke to the camel It careened
a moment, then kneeled. Eager eyes glanced
all around, scanned the tufts of arbutus and
acacias languishing at the foot of Herbal.

"Yes, this is the very place," she said,
'* there is the granite boulder."

So, placing her sandal upon the neck of
the camel, the woman stepped upon the sand.

As she walked toward the palm tree, her
flowing robe falling in folds almost to the
black thongs of her sandals according to the
custom among nations of the East, there was
a certain power of spirit, seemingly subdued
]}y some gentle passion, surrounding her like
an atmosphere which you could be felt but not
defined.

Soon she stood beside the granite. That
very boulder was the stone which marked her
husband's g ave. Beautiful indeed was the
night : blue hills standinij: dim in the dis-
tance like dark-clad sentinels, nightingales
singing among the waving })ranches of the
trees, purple clouds tinged with silvery light

123

casting their shadows on old Mount Herbal
and drifting ever onward toward the lovely
land of Palestine.

And the stars were shining. And they
shone upon the gi'ave. The wf)inan now was
kneeling, kneeling beside the grave beneath
the palm-tree and praying — Mary the niother
of Zerola was praying to him whom she be-
lieved to be too wise to err and too good to
be unkind praying to God the Father of the
Nazarene and of all mankind, of the great
Brotherhood.

Meanwhile the dromedary had arisen and
was browsing on the camel grass growing in
the neighborhood, having wandered some
little distance from the place where left by
its rider.

The night was dark now, but more fas-
cinating. A calming presence seemed to
give the desert that mystic charm, that almost
weird stillness wherein the soul of the trav-
eller feels each blade of grass, each palm -tree
leaf, the rocks, the hills, and all the stars are
whispering those beckoning truths that angel
hands have engraved in eternal gold deep
down in the unvoiced thought of every hu-
man heart.

Mary soon arose and saw where the camel

1 ■

124

M n

had wandered to. Walking towards it she
observed far up tlie mountain what seemed
to have tlie appearance (jf a cross. Then all
the past flashed through her mind : the star
shining above Bethlehem announcing the
birth of the Saviour of men, the flight from
Herod across this same desert, and then the
warm welcome friendship of the Egyptian
woman, the childhood of the boy, the concep-
tion of his purpose in life, the manhood of
the man, then long happy years of sacrifice
and self-devotion, deeds of kindness prompt-
ed by love, and then — the cross ! Again she
stood in imagination in the throng on that
darkest night the world has ever known> and
beheld the Christ, her own son, die for his
fellow-men, on the cross of Calvary.

" But I must hasten back to Nazareth,"
she reminded herself.

She remounted.

The time flew quickly. Soon the camel
and its rider had travelled far over the desert.

In the eastern sky wandering beams of
golden light looked like seraphs of the morn-
ing, for the day was coming. And the woman
saw them, but was not glad. How could she
be *? Her husband in a desert grave, Zerola
in a living tomb, her husband buried by her

125

own liaiids when on the wa,y to Alexsi.ndria,
her (laughter exiled l)y her own people when
on the way to Nazareth.

" Had Joseph lived," thought Mary, " and
had we seen the Egyptian woman, life would
not look so ray less, almost hopeless. For we
thought her letter meant that she conlH aid
as in our search. But she, too, has gone.
Exiled to Rome ! This has been a cruel,
unjust world. Two yearning years seeking
our daughter, and she is not found ! O
Zerola, on earth I fear we shall meet — never

never

I "

' f

; J

! '■«il!

CHAPTER XVI.

HOME AGAIN

It was morning in Nazareth.

Nestling among the hills on the south of
Lebanon, Esdraelon stretching wide and
far, lay the city.

The sun, shining over the waving cec" .t; >
brightening the (juiel streets through which
the shepherds were at that early hour lead-
ing their herds and flocks to the pasture-
lands beyond, gave the city that peculiar
charm which scarcely ever fails after long
absence to make one's native place more
dear, to call back the pretty scenes of child-
hood. It did not fail with Zerola : she felt
its strange power. She was now walking
along a street where years ago some few be-
side herself had seen a carpenter's regal son
give a cup of cold water to a slave. Perhaps
the prince — as he had proved to be- may
have looked upon in after times the cross
that now marked the spot where he had lain
in chains and shown his wordless gratitude.
For to the followers of the Nazarene the
cross, being so significant of sacrifice and self-

127

devotion, had become the emblem of their
religion.

Zerola saw it as she passed, thinking :

" The sky was dark then, but i ow all is
bright. And hope, ever cheering, still leads
me on. Again in Palestine ; what glad,
what holy thoughts its hills and lakes sug-
gest ! Again in Nazareth, again to help my
mother. Again to meet — my lover."

She hastened through the olive-groves,
past the Hat-roofed houses, of which the city
mainly consisted, varied here and there by a
pyramid roof or less frequently by a dome.

And as the girl, now a woman, walked
along the winding streets the people seemed
to remember a bearing and a countenance
not unknown.

Soon she stood before her home, and in a
moment was walking ((uickly up the path to
the house. There w(?re the same flowers,
the stars of Bethlehem and the lilies, strug-
gling to lift their white and purple blossoms
from out the foliage growing so green and
tangled in the shadows of the old date-palm
standing just in front of the door.

Two years in prison — now on the very
tlireshold of home !

Should slie go in innnediately, or wait a
I

Ian'

128

nionient and see if mother would come
out?

She waited, then entered ; hurried through
each room, glanced anxiously around, and in
an instant realized it all — the house was de-
serted, desolate !

" My father, my mother have gone," she
said aioud, half shrinking from the words.
" O (lod; tell me, where are they ! Oh, where
is Thaeon '? "

But this was not the utterance of despair
— no, rather of decision. 8uch circumsta-nces
and revc -ses simply make weak natures still
weaker. Zerola was made stronger. She
arose quickly and went out through the door
of the carpenter shop behind the house,
without, however, hearing the front door
open at the same moment and a man enter.

Walking through the garden this time she
did not fail to observe its particularly un-
tended and deserted appearance. Yet the
very wildness of the foliage gave it a certain
beauty which is not always rivalled by the
most careful culture. Sitting down not far
from the date-palm to consider what course
had better be pursued, the girl fancied she
heard within the house footsteps, but dis-
missed the idea as one of her own imagina-

129

1 1

lion. And Paul, for the man was none other
than tlie great apostle, little thought he
was so near Zerola.

He had sought tidings of her wherever he
had gone, but hitherto had learned nothing.
Of all the Nazarenes whom before his con-
version he had been the means of leading to
imprisonment and death, the fate of none
was regretted more deeply than that of
Zerola. Her kinship with the Master he
loved and served so faithfully probably origi-
nated the feeling. There was a pathos and
romance, too, about the act of mercy and
love that she was doing when she was seized,
which appealed to Paul now as it had never
done before. The scholarly Hebrew also
feared from what he had learned of the
character of Karmes since that time, that he
had handed the girl over to a fate worse than
death. It was a cruel thing — this thing that
he had done in his l)lind zeal. Among the
long list of atrocities that his conscience re-
proached him with, this of Zerola seemed the
deepest dyed. It was a crimson sin. Mercy
and forgiveness he had, but he grieved
sorely. Persecutors in all times might learn
from it how easily prejudice blinds the eyes
and how wrong one may be at the moment

m 'I

i !

i i
t

: -4

1 ilji

t i

I I,

130

when most sure of being right. Paul could
not l)e near Nazareth without going to the
house from which he had snatched the bright-
est lewel. He was ever eii^er to know if
any tidings of Zerola had been received.
The emptiness of the house did not oppress
Paul as it had Zerola. He had seen the
family not many months before, while to
Zerola no word had come for more than two
years. He waited a while, and then went
out to ascertain if anyone in the village
knew where Mary was, or when she would
return. He learned there of her journey
into Egypt, and that even then she was ex-
pected.

" I shall remain in Nazareth until the
morning," he resolved, " and will visit the
house again before nightfall."

Zerola could take no such measures. She
dreaded making imjuiries. What might she
not hear '(

" Mother may be dead, Thaeon may be
dead," she thought, and trembled as the idea
passed through her mind.

It was now nearing noon. Scarcelv a
cloud was in the sky. Tlie heat was hv-
cuming very oppressive. Zerola, fairly ex-
liausted by her long, wearisome journey, lay

131

down to lost awhile, and very soon sho foil
asleep.

Fortunately, only the comparatively few
who have been dwellers in a lionian prison
of the first century, have had that experience
which would enable • ne to picture even in-
distinctly the dreams Avhich would naturally
present themselves to the brain of a girl so
recently and strangely liberated. Indeed,
very few have ever been in such a prison as
Zerola. Therefore it will readily appear that
repose in a place like this was what she now
most needed.

And both the sleeping and the dreaming
were delightful.

»'■

mifi

m.--''^

•'•mn:<*'i*(^tK'»i*i.^H^:^n -p'^

CHAPTER XYII.

THE UNIVERSAL TRIAL

The very hour tliat Zerola lay sleeping and
dreaming beneath the date-palm a woman
ridiiiij on a camel mii'ht have he<M). seen
coming through the olive groves on the
slopes of Nazareth towards the city. She was
hastening anxiously onward, scarcely pausing
to look to left or right. As she passed through
the streets the respect of the people for her
seemed ahnost to have the depth of rever-
ence. Her very dignity added that charm
of repose to her beauty which made them
feel her countenance was but the expression
of the soul within. She, too, saw the cross ;
but with what thoughts may be but faintly
known.

"It is Mary," remarked an aged Hebrew
as she passed.

" The mother of Jesus," responded his
companion.

" And of Zerola," added anotlier.

After dismounting and securing the camel
the w^oman soon was walking up the ])ath
to her home. The lilies, the stars of Beth-

l;j;^

lehein and all the Howcts s(?eniod more
lovely now. Maiy felt and heard the sweet
messages trembling on the golden sunbeams
and whispering from the tender petals of the
blossoms. For there ai-e moments when the
soul seems to be drifting on a dark, though
fear-lit sea, and then it will cling to the frail-
est spar.

She was now about to open the door, but
chanced to glanc(; around.

" Surely that is a girl," slu; said, crossing
to where the sleeper lay. '' Perhaps the
daughter of some exiled prince, i)erliaps the
lost one of some poor peasant. Some day
my own child may lie even as this one. VVoukl
God that I might be the one to find her !
But, whoever thif. may be, she is a child of
our Father who is in heaven."

Two years in a dungeon produce many
changes. And Mary's eyes were grown dim,
more from v/eeping than from age.

The woman luielt beside the youthful
form, saying as she brushed tlie hair from the
girl's brow, " I know, my child, thou hadst
a mother once — if thou hast not now."

And Mary took her in her arms, and kissed
her — kissed her with a mother's kiss.

Zerola awoke.

;•*?*».;!, ..-« •«y»^'*^*«**w^«■ag;^saB^*#<M^•

134

1 hit' (?yes nu;t Mary's. Those wcmg pierc-
ing looks, of jinuizemeiit, ahiio«t fear — then
of recognition !

'* Oh, mother — mother ! "

" My daughter, my precious treasure ! "

And from out moist and speaking eyes
both looked upward to that God wlio sees the
tears of the fatherless and hears the widow's
cry. And as tliey prayed each felt the holy
calm of God's eternal love — for })oth were
saying : " O, Father, thy will be done."

The long-sought reunion of mother and
daughter seemed to solemnize the souls of
both. Their joy was supreme. Their feel-
ings were too deep to find expression in any
way other than in the most intense of all
forms known to the human race, the act of
communion with -the Deity. All the long
pent-up grief of the mother's heart, the
mourning of those two long years, the deep
yearning of her soul for her cherished jewel,
strove together for utterance in devotional
and passionate gratitude. Zerola, too, as
she clung to*her mother in the embrace that
she had pi ' ured to herself again and again
in the gloomy dungeon in Rome and on the
deck of the ship as it crossed the Mediter-
ranean, could find no words to relieve her

i^n

luuirt l)ut hrokcti scutoncct^ of tlianks«jjiviii^

^ !i!

that tl»e gracious Fatlier of all inankiud had
guided her home. Of the trivialities of
ordinary life neither could speak. Their
happiness was too sacred, the moment was
too thrilling. So the mother and daughter
knelt and prayed, tludr arms about each
other's necks, their faces beautiful in youth
and maturity turned heavenward with a rad-
iant light shining through their tears.

Meanwhile the apostle had returned and
was walking through the garden. As he
drew near they heard his footsteps, and turn-
ing around saw and recognized him. Zerola
drew back. But Mary, with the forgiveness
of a Nazarene, spoke to him.

"Paul."

And, advancing, she took his hand and led
him to the girl whom both had been seeking.
The mother's words were few, but they told
enough.

When she had concluded, Paul spoke to
the young Jewess standing before him and
looking into his eyes. Two eventful years
had gone by since last he had looked upon
that lovely face bright with courage, in the
roadway outside the Damascus Gate of Jeru-
salem.

"smii,,. ti-^Mfr:*-f>t*nt«^iri^liSi^;iH'l^

130

'* Zerola," he faltonHi, but it was with the
voice of a man acioss whose patliway in life
lias fallen some dark shadow, "you know all.
I will not, T can not ask you to forgive uie.
I have earned your curses."

" Speak not so," said Mary, " she has al-
ready — "

" No, no," he went on, " her curses would
blast nie less than her forgiveness."

But he could add no more. Looking upon
the ground, h(; said in his very heart ; "God
be merciful to me a sinner." He felt a ten-
der hand take his, and raising his eyep ^hey
n^et Zerola's. And there was that in ^ch
and voice and look which said, "The past is
all forgotten, forgiveness lights the future."

"You are indeed worthy of being the sis-
ter of the Galilean," he answered. " But no,
I cannot do it— I cannot take ycur pardon."

Looking at Mary, Zerola then asked :

" Mother; where is Thaeon ? "

Paul turned and walked away.

"O God," he said, "howl have wronged
her ! "

In their conversation about the martyr, they
had not mentioned his name. The apostle
was tilled with remorse. What a crime his
bigotry had led him to commit ! What sor-

■-.■*«

•'(fk>V*^» '»..•#»».>.

i:i7

row h(i had brought to this Ikjiiic ! Mary
and Zerola liad forgiven him. God had for-
given him. But lie could not forgive him-
self. A small nature might easily have done
so. Paul's was large, noble.

When Mary answered her daughter's
question she; thought Paul was out of hear-
ing, but Jis he walked away he caught the
words :

" Zeioia, v/hen thou didst take the cup of
cold water to the maityr on that morning in
Jerusalem, it was t ^ — '"
"Speak, mothei, speak!"
"To Thaeon, thou wast carrying it."
" No. That cannot be ! What do you
mean?"

" Daughter, thy lover — is — dead."
Suddenly becoming as if lifeless, the girl
fell upon the ground, overwhelmed with that
sorrow wliich can be felt only by one who has
learned to truly love with all the fervor of
a passionate woman's heart. Mary, ([uickly
kneeling beside her, took her in her arms
and carried her to the house where in years
gone by they had all lived so happily. And
pressing her to her bosom she prayed as
never before.

Had she found her beloved daughter only

t '.-

-«» ..■»."«*.#-.««W,*^f „«^^«J^-;

i:i8

to lose her at a stroke ? Zerola'd face Icjokcd
like the; face of the dead. The mother wept
over hev and labored tc bring life back to the
beautiful form,

Zerola thought she had schooled herself to
say, " Thy will be doae," but as she heard
that Thaeon was dead, her heart seemed to
cease beatini^. AH around had grown dim.
And she remember? d no more.

But the young life, even in so delicate a
frame as Zerola's, does not easily yield itself
under a mental shock. It was only a swoon,
and IVlary's eifforts ^vere rewarded after some
minutes with the returning color in the pale
cheeks that showed the blood was once more
circulating in iier arteries. She did not
hasten returning consciousness, realizing that
the desolation would come on her child with
renewed weight and that this oblivion was.
merciful.

At last Zerolas lustrous eyes looked up
piteously into her face.

" Mother,'' Fhe asked, *' is it true 1 An-
swer mo ! Is it true what you have told me 1
Is Thaeon reallv lost to me forever? O
mother, I was so fond of him. Shall I never
see him again ? O God, how I loved him ! "

'' Not on earth, my eliild," Mj'.ry replied,

#:! m

.■^.i-atHM/lrl-f

139

I!
ill

sadly, '* You cannot see him here. F>ut,
Zerola, %ve sorrow nob as those who have no
hope. You have not parted forever. Do
you not remember the words of your brother
— your Saviour ? "

'* Repeat them to nie, mother."

" I am the resurrection and the life. He
that believeth on me though he were dead,
yet shall he Hve "

" Yes, I do not forget, But it is very
hard. O mother, it is so hard ! "

And through the years how many thousands
of human hearts have felt this cold sorrow of
bereavement, and from whom this same
mournful cry has been sobbed to heaven.
It is the lamentation of the universal trial.

"P.

.5 '

■*s'f'-mrM\:^'mA.ihmti-^%imii '

CHAPTER XVIII.

WHIRLING IN WILD CAROUSAL

" Roo:\i there I Make room for tlie cha-
not of Corbulo ! "

So shouted the people as his black Arabians
driven by the general himself, galloped along
the ringing pavement of the Appian Way,
whose large hexagonal blocks of Basaltic
lava formed a road hard and smooth as skill
and stono. could make it.

Half the city, both citizens and strangers,
were now enjoying the pleasures of the pro-
menade. For it was evening.

" A costly four ! " exclaimed a certain
Egyptian as Corbulo flashed by.

" Magnificent chariot ! " responded his
companion, a man whom you would at once
have seen was also from the country of the
Nile.

" But cursed charioteer," muttered the
other.

They now quickened their steps.

"That," remarked the taller of the two,
pointing at the Roman's brilliant equipage,
and following it with his black eyes, " that

■ifitu^^, .t», 'tui . ^jm»««rii«i <f J

141

to tickle his pride— but this," replacing
something shining and sharp beneath his
robe, "this to tickle his ."

" Hush, Karmes," interrupted the second,
" we will be discovered."

" It is well if we are not now," the Egyp-
tian replied sullenly. " But, Arni, who is
that ? "

" Whom do you mean 1 "

" That man there, passing the statue.

" They both looked eagerly.

" By the gods ! " exclaimed Arni " It is
Thaeon ! "

They now walked still faster.

" Perpol ! It is he ! "

" V/here then are the girls ? "

" The pretty nymphs have played us
false ? "

" Judge not so hastily."

" The daughters of Isia are fooling their
masters."

" Your reason 1 "

" They are too slow. They dally. And
by ."

" Karmes, your pyramids were not built
in an hour."

" No, Arni, no. But they should have
got him to the house by this time. When
Antony ^"

li-i

«?-''--f*|!*K>-#^#.^i^^|^.

' .-iia^ •'«^*'K^ilO'iKuaa^gKrgt-g'5r-^; ::rz- z -

142

" What of tho Roman ? "

"Cleopatra netted him in a minute."

Then there was silence for a time. In a
few minutes it was broken by the smaller of
the two.

"Aha, Karmes," he laughed, "the girls
are cunning as their master. Look ! There
they are ! "

" True, Arni, true."

" Let us approach then and listen."

" But we have not time."

"Why not?"

" Remember the message : By the statue
at day-break ! And the wine and the dance
precede."

" Yes," repeated Arni, " the banquet
comes first. And then — By the statue at
day-break 1 It will go hard with Corbulo to
die so."

"Yes. But it went hard with my sister
when he killed her beside that same statue,"
replied the first Egyptian^ coloring with
anger.

** Well for the general if he knew our
our plot, Karmes," remarked his companion,
Moraewhat pityingly.

" Ay, well ! " was the answer.

" And he will know when — "

■'•*'*^^■^^.^i*m^-t^'^^^ -

143

" When this daggei' tells him," interrupted
the half brother of the hag, muttering and
patting his breast.

The two men hurried off to their meeting-
place. Well might it have been for them if
they had only known how much Corbulo did
know of their conspiracy ! For he knew all.
But they trusted to their cunning.

By this time tlie two women resf erred to
had caught up to Thaeon, and were now
talking with him. Misled by their speak-
ing his own language he seemed to have
forgotten liis usual caution.

" Pardon me," said the elder of the two,
" but do you not come from Nazareth ? "

He looked at them a moment.

" Yes," he responded. " I do."

" Then your name is Thaeon," she added
scanning the man over, and smiling wiu-
ningly.

He was perplexed. How did they know
who Jie was. It seemed to be explained,
however, when she contiiued : "

"Several years ago we lived there our-
selves. But now our home is here in Rome."

Although neither of them had ever seen
Palestine they had been furnished with all
necessary facts by Arni and Karmes. They

'■•'p*miips,-!ii>4^iNtHi-

144

knew thoroughly the history of the Dian
before them. In addition to this both had
the tact of their sex and the cunning of their
race.

"And have you not found Zerola yet?"
inquired the younger after a sUght pause in
the conversation.

Thaeon looked astonished. They might
know his nationality and his name, but how
could they have found out his errand.

'• Oh, be not surprised," they said together,
looking archly at him, " we know her well."

"You know her," he repeated, trying in
vain to conceal his feelings. But they knew
only too well the workings of a manly heart
when its owner is blindly and intensely in
love.

" Can you tell me where Zerola is .' " he
asked.

" Yes, we can."

"Then tell me I"

" Come with us, and we will take you to
her," was the answer."

What possibilities belong to every woman !
How noble she may be, if she only will. But
yet how false sometimes — how treacherous.

The three turned and walked in the op-
posite direction to that in which they had

f '^■^''*<H'Himi't^'*^v.,^*m.->^,ti'*ft^<,,Mt^f~,

145

been going Past the spraying fountains,
past the marble columns, tiie sloping gardens
and triumphal arches, they hastened onwaid.
Ihe gn-ls aughed to themselves at his trust
and credulity.

Soon they reached their destination. It
was a house situated behind the statue' No
sooner had Thaeon entered this place than he
began to doubt.

. "What," he thought, would Zerola be do-
ing in such company as this ? "

Weated around the spacious room were a
dozen men and as many women, all drinkinrr
in a moment he realized the truth • he had
been deceived ! J^ut how could he make his
escape ? It would not do to let them see that
he^even wished to go. That was evident.

-Niti, called one of the women as the
dwart went to open the doors at the end of
the room, "keep away from there -?"
"Why?"

" There's a lion in there."

The boy smiled.

''Keep away, Sati. Keep away from the
den she continued. '' That lion eats three
little black imps like you every mornincr

"He does?" said the young Ethiopian
with wonder in his big eyes.

rr^tttKi .m-m^. ft - 'fn^o-t t^iim ■

' Yes."

"Three every morning ! "

" Yes."

"Then-."

"Then what?" the woman asked.

"AVhy after this I will never get up till

» "

noon

And he smiled at her imp-like, and walked
away to where Thaeon sat thinking, trying
to devise some way of escape.

" Look ! " said Hati.

Thaeon raised Ids eyes.

The doors at the farther end of the room
were now swinging softly open, and strains
of music floating through the long torch-lit
corridor. Then was lieard the march of
sandalled feet stepping to the touch of luto
and tabret. In a few minutes a score of
dancing girls entered dressed in all the attire
of processional display and oriental attrac-
tiveness.

And the revel commenced. And the revel
galloped. And the revel whirled !

An hour or more passed when Karmes
leaning over whispered to Arni :

"Remember, 'By the statue at day-
break.' The hour draws near."

" And our men are ready for their work,"

^, <'^.tii:m*m^*im*'v*n^*'*Htttm^ti'm

147

«!!

('1

answered Arni. " Nine are hiding by the
roadside, waiting to drag the Roman from
his chariot as he passes. And then "

*' Then, ay, then Corbulo ! O revenge,
how sweet thou art ! "

Meanwhile the feast was going on.

*' But, Karmes, asked the other, " how
comes it that Corbulo is driving along the
Appian Way so late to-i light ? "

" He has gone to meet Paul, who but yes-
terday arrived from Palestine," was the an-
swer.

" The general will be turning Nazarene
next," suggested two or three of the women
sitting near and listening.

They all laughed in derision.

*' Well, this to the apostle," sneered
Arni, as he emptied his goblet.

" And this to the general," responded the
tall Egyptian.

Another now joined them.

" The girls," he said, '* who saw Corbulo
kill your sister say they have something to
tell you, Karmes. Thc^y wish to speak with
you."

" Bid them come to me, then."

In a few minutes they were before him.

" Thaeon will have nothing to do witli u«, "

.«?»•' ■•■•r*fl«*5'c*'^i*'«MM<»*»)i

148

they said appeal i ugly, " and we cannot over-
come his dfitermination."

" Why, I thought you could overcome any-
thing masculine," was the half-joking reply.

" So did we," one of them re})lied.

" And we can, too ! " added the other,
with emphasis.

" You jest."

" No, wc do not, Karmes." with a siren
smile, ''are you not mc^culine ? "

" Ha, ha, ha ! " sounded loudly from all
the grou]).

" Oh, away, away ! " commanded Karmes,
not quite appreciating the sally.

They turned to go.

'* But I'll overcome him," continued the
man, aroused, not by means of any feminine
wiles, but by means of "

" Of what r' they asked, returning.

" Of this," he replied. And with his finger-
tips he made his dagger ring.

" But what did you come to tell me ? " he
demanded of the girls.

"To tell you?"

" Yes."

" It is this : let not pleasure be forgotten
in your anger, Karmes," was their answer.

They looked at him. And their look said :

-'^mmmifm»^,»hn.m^iin^.^-

149

" Come."

The men arose.

of iior^sii' - ''-^ '"^ '^-"h

Again thegoblets were filled.
Ihese,' said they all as they quaffed H.p

" Wine ! "
"And women! "
"Huz?a !"

^And through the hall the shouts went
Song and jest and laughter, what a iollv

KhZmTtf "^' '^'^^^"^ ^^ ^-^ -S

wine the pxl-. 'T\'' u^'^ ^^^'^''^^^ ^^ ^^e
wine, the excitement of the dance- eastern

enticing, voh.ptuous- who could resist such

asc^nat^ng pleasure? ^one now. NonS

then, feo all, save one, Egyptians inrJ T?.;

;--s, women, men and girf^^^Twent whirl-"

ing m wild carousal. "i^wniri-

Knock, knock.

A trumpet blast '

cJnT''"'' '' •'^-•^ and clanking of

Spears, armor, swords shining weirdlv in
the torches' flickering light. ^

Was it a dream ?

No.

A hundred .soldiers stood within tlie room.
Every man armed and resolute.

The revellers were silent, almost sobered.

"As many more are waiting for you
outside," said the centurion, glancing from
one to the other. And his iron will was in
his voice.

In a few minutes the men were prisoners.
The women were permitted to go to their
homes. How wearily they tramped along
the Appian Way.

In less than an hour the prisoners were in
the presence of Corbulo. There stood the
great Roman, calm, cold and immovable as
the marble walls around him.

" Karmes," he said, "your plot was dis-
covered. I kno> all ; yes, all ! "

Then, turning to the guard he said, with
a wave of the hand,

" These to the galleys, except one."

A murmur ran through the crowd. ^

In a moment, he continued, " Thaeon is
free ! "

How sullen looked the conspirators.

To be chained to an oar, to be treated like
a do^, it seemed their future life would be

ftr*^'r*n: " *r ii ' iM'h -}lf

151

but a slow fleatli. And worse than that, into
its darkness would never sliiiie a ray of hope.

The voice of Karnies lirst broke the silence
of the chamber.

'*Than be a sfalley slave," he shouted "T
had rather be a corpse ! "

Corbulo waited a moment, deliberating.
Then, looking into the Egyptian's black eyes,
said slowly :

" I grant thy wish."

Then to the centurion : "Karmes dies to-
morrow^ — by the statue at day-break ! "

All the conspirators glanced hurriedly at
each other, and dropped their eyes.

Looking again at the old intriguer, Cor-
bolo continued :

'* I permitted you to make a voyage on one
of my ships. But how was my confidence
rewarded ? By fickleness, falseness, treach-
ery. You betrayed my trust. You tried to
betray Zerola, but failed. Then for some
crime you were immured in the same sepul-
chre. In its wreck by the lightning I
thought I saw you lying dead. However, you
escaped ; then formed a plot to take my own
life, and Thaeon's. But you have failed —
failed in all ! And now, now Karmes, pre-
pare to follow the hag ! "

152

Then the doors of the room swung open.
And through the long corridor were seen a
hundred soldiers ranged and standing by
the walls. Forth came the sound of the
she^'thing of a hundred swords, as, at the
signal of olie centurion, they shouted :

" By the statue at day-break ! "

And every conspirator trembled as the
avails echoed the words :

*' By the statue at day-break ! "

» ^Mkjjmm^tmpf^f'm^mm'^

CHAPTER XI.X.

DEPARTING

What changes may take place within the
limits of a single day !

When next morning's sun appeared above
the eastern hills the conspirators were toil-
ing at the heavy oars of war galleys. And
by the statue white and gleaming on the
Appian Way the body of Karmes was dang-
ling lifeless in the breeze.

Thaeon met Paul at the palace of the gen-
eral, and with a reception by the Romans
and the Hebrew which imagination may
truthfully picture as an occasion of joy.

Amid narration of events which all were
anxious to hear, the golden bringer of new
days travelled upward to its zenith. And
the scene in the palace was changed.

Corbulo was bidding warewell to Niane.
He was about to embark with the imperial
legions to engage in another campaign, from
which the army of the Ctesars and their dis-
tinguished leader, the hero of many battles,
were expected to return with more glory
than ever Ijefore. Crushed must be every

154

enemy of Rome. Great was the genius of
Corbulo. Splendid would be his triumphs.
Victor, comjueror — he would become ! Why
not Emperor ?

^^m;!^rim¥'^f**^m^

|.S<'e l>Ufft' 157

"A FORM STANDINC. BENEATH THE FRAGRANT
BLOSSOMS "

-iim^.ig!f>,^^^>^f»m*

CHAPTER XX.

A liHlDAL -MORNING

Again it was twilight in Palestine.
Jn the sky few stars were yet shining.
Streaks of color golden and roseate%vere
still lingering in the west.

a ong the pretty slopes you might have seen"
as the shadows were darkening, a form stand
Z waT'? ''lf/-«-"* W--ms. IK

able to distinguish a countenance and a voioe
which you would at once have recognized.

Ihe woman was thinking of an evening in
^^azareth ,n that same Slive-grove, vWien
Karmes the Egyptian spoke the words ■
come M' '•«'»<"»''er this hour years to

Zerola was recalling also that n.o.ning in
Jerusalem when the cup of cold water^sl«
was carrying to her lover was dashed from
her hands the time spent in Rome and Z
return to ner native land.

She had recovered from all the effects

158

ot* hei; imprisoiitiicrit. As she stood there in
the kindly rays of the evening sun you would
have said the girl of Palestine possessed that
strange charm of presence, tliat wondrous
synnnetry of form, that enchanting fascina-
tion of countenance which poets and histor-
ians of ancient times have ascribed to eastern
queens. T\\v. .Jew(^ss seemed more royal
now, more lovely than ever before — for sor-
row and love had graced wdth more than
beauty the olive brow that oidy lacked a
crown.

The stars cast long golden whispers down
to whei'e she stood beneath the waving
branches of the trees, praying : " Father,
forgive them, they knew not what they did."

Then a strojig purpose tilled her soul. It
was an inspiration. Tliis would be a brighter
day ! And taking a few steps forward she
heard the disciples chanting near by, in a
temple not made with hands, a hymn of the
Nazarenes :

Wc l)elieve in Iniuiaii kiii'hie.ss :

Large Jiiuid the hiuis of men,
Nobler far ir willing blindness

Than in eensure\s keenest ken.
We believe in self-denial,

And its seciet throb of joy ;
In the love that lives through trial, •■

Dying not though death destroy.

m,x:i{!^mmm'^^mi*im

159

We believe in dreams of Duty,

Wprning us to self-control, —
Foregleauis of the glorious beauty

That shall yet transform the soul •
In the godlike wreck of nature

>Sin doth in the sinner leave.
That he may regain the stature

He hath lost, — we do believe.

We believe in love renewing

All that sin has swept away,
Leaven-like its work pursuing

Night by night, and day by day :
In the power of its remohling.

In the grace of its reprieve ;
In the glory of beholding

Its perfection, we believe.

We believe in love eternal,

Fixed in God's unchanging will ;
That, beneath the deep infernal,

Hath a depth that's deeper still !
In its patience, its endurance

To forbear and to retrieve.
In the large and full assurance

Of its triumphs — we believe.

Turning to go homeward, she looked in-
deed beauteous, some would say divine.

" But listen ! " she said beneath her breath.
" I heard some sound."

A brighter day 1

Yes.

160

For there, before her stood her lover.

" Zerola ! "

It was the voice of a man enraptured.

" Thaeon — my own ! "

" My love, my love ! " he cried as he drew
her to his bosom.

Then for a while there was that silence
which is sometimes the language of the
purest and most passionate afiection. And
as Zerola rested her head on her lover's
breast, and Thaeon pressed his lips to those
of his betrothed, they stood clasped in one
long embrace, each listening while the other
whispered those words which lovers long so
much to hear, and told of the past dark
years, and spoke of the brightening future.

It is true. What great changes may take
place within the limits of a single day !
When the sun again appeared above the
eastern hills, it was shining upon a happy
morning — the radiant bridal morning of
Thaeon and Zerola op Nazareth.

THE END