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ZATTHU 
 
 A TALE OF ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 By / 
 EDMUND HAMILTON ‘SEARS 
 
 THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, U. S. A. 
 
 
 
Copyrriaut 1925 
 
 By THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 THE JORDAN & MORE PRESS 
 BOSTON 
 
TO MY WIFE 
 HELLEN SEARS 
 
7 Kpe wily 
 Wg Ms 
 
 y ite he 
 he £95 i 
 : A 
 Wa ir ae i 
 
 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 Zatthu, about whom this story centers, is not an historical 
 character. In the days of Pontius Pilate no one actually 
 figured as he figures in these pages. But he truthfully em- 
 bodies the spirit of sedition that made the Jews unceasingly 
 restive under Roman rule and finally led them to rebel against 
 it to their own undoing in the reign of Vespasian. Indeed, 
 the fierce hatred that brought on that disastrous conflict and 
 the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus might easily have been 
 fanned long before into a flame of rebellion. That Pontius 
 Pilate realized how critical the situation was is shown by his 
 surrender to the priestly party when they accused Jesus of 
 Nazareth of treason against Rome and clamored for his 
 
 death. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2022 with funding from 
 Princeton Theological Seminary Library 
 
 https://archive.org/details/zatthutaleofanci0Osear 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Part I—Zatrnu 
 
 Part [[—TwHe Dawnine Licutr 
 Part Ij[—Tursoa 
 
 Part IV— THE Broken Hope 
 Part V— WalIrTING 
 
 Part VI— DARKNESS AND Day 
 

 
Part [I 
 ZATTHU 
 

 
ZATTHU 
 A TALE OF ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 I 
 
 “Has there been any untoward happening, Glabrio?” 
 
 “None.” 
 
 The brief soldier-like answer was accompanied by the usual 
 salute. 
 
 “And you’ve seen nothing to rouse suspicion?” 
 
 “Nothing.” 
 
 “That is well. Tullius will now relieve you. And mind 
 you keep a sharp lookout, Tullius. From now to midnight 
 is the time that mischief-makers would choose for doing their 
 foul deeds, and near this palace Herod built —I wish the 
 wicked old fellow had never built it, for these rebels will be 
 using it for a stronghold some day — is just the place for 
 them to gather. In this western part of the city they think 
 we can’t spy out their doings from our quarters on Mount 
 Zion. Ah, they’re a quarrelsome lot, these Hebrews. Galba 
 does well to watch them closely. I am thinking he may have 
 to send to Cesarea and ask Pilate for more legionaries now 
 that that turbulent Zatthu is stirring up sedition. It’s a 
 small force we have at the Tower of Antonia — just a cen- 
 tury to keep all the hot-headed malcontents of Jerusalem 
 in order.” 
 
 “True, Scapulo,” commented Glabrio, the relieved sentry 
 who knew he should receive no rebuke for free speech from 
 the talkative and good-natured decurion; “but even one 
 Roman eagle is enough to scare these Hebrew croakers. 
 
 99 
 
4 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 They know well that a whole flock will fly to it if it is 
 assailed.” 
 
 “Yes, but of late they do not seem so badly scared. 
 Zatthu, as I have said, is keeping all Jerusalem in a ferment. 
 So I charge you again to keep your eyes wide open, Tullius. 
 Remember, the Roman discipline is stern whenever a soldier 
 is careless at his post. And now I must take a look at those 
 big towers’ nearby and see if any trouble-breeders are lurk- 
 ing about them. So, forward all!” 
 
 It was in the open space in front of the now unoccupied 
 palace that the above colloquy had taken place. Out of this 
 space the little band was marched, and turning it soon dis- 
 appeared behind the corner of the palace. But hardly had 
 it made the turn when every man instinctively came to a halt 
 without waiting for the decurion’s command. ‘Their ears 
 were startled by a deep groan, followed by the unmistakable 
 noise of a falling body. The clang of metal upon stone sug- 
 gested the same thing to all. The sentry who had just been 
 left on guard had been felled to the earth, and it was his 
 armor clashing upon the pavement that had made the sound. 
 Exactly what had happened they could not know, bright — 
 moonlight though it was; but they hardly needed Scapulo’s 
 command, “About! Quick! Follow me!” to rush with all 
 speed to the spot they had just left. 
 
 Rounding the corner of the palace they instantly made out 
 the form of their comrade stretched upon the ground. That 
 it was he the glint of his armor plainly showed. So, even as 
 he ran, Scapulo directed several of his men, whom he called 
 by name, to search the neighborhood for the author of the 
 sorry deed. With the others he quickly reached the spot 
 where the fallen Tullius lay, knelt beside him and passed a 
 supporting arm beneath the drooping head. 
 
 * There were three formidable towers — Hippicus, Phasael, and Mari- 
 amne —- close to the solidly built palace of Herod the Great. It was these 
 towers and the palace that yielded last when Jerusalem was captured 
 by Titus. 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 5 
 
 But Tullius was beyond help. He was still living, but that 
 his end was near was almost immediately seen by Scapulo and 
 his band. The sentry had been stealthily approached from 
 behind and a knife or dagger had been dexterously thrust 
 downward just where the neck and the left shoulder joined. 
 Powerful had been the stroke; powerful the hand that had 
 withdrawn the knife from such a deep and dreadful wound. 
 From it the blood was issuing fast and covering the pavement. 
 
 “Can you not speak, Tullius, and tell us how this hap- 
 pened?” inquired Scapulo, anxiously placing his face near 
 that of the man he was supporting and striving to catch any 
 faint words he might utter. He was bent solely on tracing 
 the foul deed; to save the fast ebbing life he knew to be im- 
 possible. 
 
 The dying man looked up at his comrade longingly, as if 
 imploring him to ward off the death he felt to be close at 
 hand, and opened his lips in the effort to speak. But already 
 it was too late. A gush of blood came from them; he gave 
 one convulsive shudder and passed away. 
 
 *““A vile murder! A cowardly abominable murder!” cried 
 Scapulo. “If the murderer is caught, crucifixion would be 
 too good for him. Poor Tullius! when I cautioned you just 
 now, I little thought how sorely you needed the warning and 
 how near you were to your end. You were a brave fellow. 
 I know, for I have fought by your side in many a bloody fray. 
 But you'll never wield sword or pilum again.” 
 
 By this time the men who had been detailed to hunt for the 
 assassin began to arrive. Interrogated one by one, they each 
 made the same report. They had looked diligently through 
 every street and alley; every nook and corner in the imme- 
 diate neighborhood had been searched. Not a single person 
 of any description had been seen. 
 
 “And you got no glimpse of a form just darting into a 
 side street or disappearing in the distance?” 
 
 No; such a figure had not been seen and one of the soldiers 
 
6 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 made the reasonable statement that search was difficult 
 among the houses that lined in tiers the steep sides of the 
 Tyropeon valley.* 
 
 “No matter if it was difficult, you ought to have found 
 the villain,” said the decurion, not concealing his vexation. 
 ‘Surely you did not look sharply, for he could not have got 
 far away. You were hunting for him only a moment or two 
 after his cursed deed was done. Well, take up the body and 
 bear it to Mount Zion across the bridge over the valley. 
 Galba must know of this at once.” 
 
 Three of the soldiers unloosed their belts and passed them 
 under the body of their dead comrade. Three more helped 
 them to lift it from the ground and carry it away. Before 
 they left the palace precinct, however, Scapulo gave a linger- 
 ing look around to see if his eye might not yet rest upon the 
 assassin or discern some trace of him; but he saw nothing. 
 
 Hardly, however, had he and his comrades disappeared 
 from view before a man, who even in the moonlight appeared 
 short and dwarfish, stole into the open space. He made his 
 way with rapid but noiseless tread to the spot where the 
 sentry had been stricken down. The copious pool of blood 
 he saw there seemed to affect him joyfully. He gazed at it 
 with grim satisfaction and the harshness of his features was 
 accentuated by what was rather a ghastly leer than a smile, 
 while a fierce light shone in his eyes. 
 
 “Fools! Blind fools!’ he cried. ‘They looked in every 
 direction, but they could not see Kelita. No, no! Kelita is 
 too cunning for them. And if they saw him they would think 
 he was too short and too feeble to do any harm. Feeble! 
 Haha! This arm is strong enough to reach a Roman’s heart 
 through his armor, and many of these foul worshippers of 
 idols will it do to death. To slay them is to serve Jehovah 
 
 *This valley severed the western part of the city, where the palace 
 stood, from the Temple and the precinct on Mount Zion. So complete 
 was the separation owing to the depth and the steep sides of the valley 
 that the chasm was spanned by two bridges. 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 7 
 
 even as Samuel did when he hewed Agag the Amalekite to 
 pieces.” 
 
 Then casting one last gloating look at the broad moist 
 blood-stain which still shimmered in the moonlight, the dwarf 
 stole noiselessly away. 
 
8 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IT 
 
 “How grim you look this morning, Melicu! Those figs 
 you bought of Diblath the Samaritan have not proved 
 mouldy, I hope.” 
 
 “No, I was thinking of what happened last night.” 
 
 “Last mebe What did happen last night? I’ve oa 
 of nothing.” ii 
 
 “You'd better go on to your shop, Hattush, instead of i 
 ing to pick up the news. It’s the middle of the third hour’ 
 already.” 
 
 “It must have been something upsetting as it has made 
 you so surly. Tell me what it was. My trade can wait.” 
 
 “A Roman sentry was killed before the palace.” 
 
 “SA sentry killed? Who did so bold a deed?” 
 
 ““A bold man. No one else would have dared.” 
 
 “But who?” 
 
 “That’s what the Romans are trying to find out, but he 
 hasn’t been fool enough to brag about it and be caught.” 
 
 “Do you think it was one of the sicarii?”’ 
 
 “Maybe. But when a Roman dog meets his day, I’m not 
 going to guess who did it. Dm just glad that it was done.” 
 
 “How was he killed?” 
 
 “With a sword or dagger thrust, they say.” 
 
 “T believe it was one of that murdering band. What ter- 
 rible men they are.” 
 
 “Don’t call them murderers. Theirs is a holy cause. Do 
 they not serve Jehovah by slaying his enemies?” 
 
 “Does Zatthu approve of them?” 
 
 “T never heard him say, but he well might. They are doing 
 just what he’s telling us all to do, destroy these heathen 
 dogs.” 
 
 “But not by stealing up from behind and stabbing them, 
 
 1'The third hour was from 6 to 9 a.m. 
 
PART 1—ZATTHU 9 
 
 as that sentry must have been killed. I can’t help feeling a 
 little sorry for him.” 
 
 “Bah, you are too soft-hearted. Many a time Jehovah 
 was wroth with our fathers because they did not slay their 
 uncircumcised foes to aman. Was not that so, Piltai?”’ 
 
 Melicu’s shop was one of many in the bottom of the 
 Tyropeon valley. This was a natural thoroughfare down 
 into which the people continually passed from the tiers of 
 dwellings on its sides; and of this fact the traders of Jerusa- 
 lem had not been slow to take advantage. The valley was a 
 veritable mart for all the wares that the people of a city 
 need. Buyer and seller met here all day long and discussed 
 all the doings, lesser and greater, that furnished food for 
 converse. But at this early hour the buyer was not much in 
 evidence, and Piltai, a dealer in household utensils whose 
 booth was next to Melicu’s, had been tempted by the lively 
 talk he had heard to join the two who were in disputation. 
 He was a short thin man, with a wizened face but a keen pierc- 
 ing eye, somewhat in contrast to Melicu, who was tall and 
 burly and had an aggressive dominant personality. 
 
 “Yes, indeed,” was his prompt answer to the question put 
 to him. “The king of Hazor and all its people were put to 
 the sword by Joshua who would have sinned against Jehovah 
 had he done less.” 
 
 “And Ehud slew ten thousand Moabites at the fords of 
 Jordan,” added another, a trader in clothing, who had also 
 joined the group. Indeed, quite a number now began to 
 gather in and about Melicu’s shop. Buyers as well as traders 
 were assembling. The news of the sentry’s death had spread. 
 It absorbed the minds of all and held the commercial instinct 
 quite in abeyance. Every face showed grim resolution. Eyes 
 flashed. Speech was not loud but earnest, and it had but one 
 note — approval of the bloody deed which was viewed not as 
 murder but as justice. 
 
 “Well instanced, Hilkiah,” said Melicu to the last speaker. 
 
10 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ‘‘And may we soon do to the Romans what Ehud did to the 
 Moabites.” 
 
 “They are not a whit better.” 
 
 ‘The man who killed the sentry deserves praise as much as 
 David.” 
 
 “May he slay as many as Samson!” 
 
 “Would that he could call down fire from heaven like 
 Elijah.” 
 
 ‘“‘Next month is the Passover. To kill these heathen dogs 
 is a fitting preparation for it.” 
 
 “How pleased Zatthu will be! He will see his counsels are 
 taking root.” 
 
 These comments, poured out in quick succession by differ- 
 ent members of the excited group, showed the kindly Hattush 
 that he was quite in the minority. He did not venture to 
 resist this tide of vengeful sentiment for fear of being counted 
 unpatriotic, and he was much embarrassed to hear his friend 
 Melicu say as he pointed to him, 
 
 “But Hattush here feels sorry for the sentry and doubts if 
 Zatthu would approve of so dealing with an enemy.” 
 
 All looked at Hattush scowlingly, but before he was taken 
 to task for his recreancy, a warning voice said, 
 
 *S-s-sh. The Romans.” 
 
 The warning was timely. Several Roman soldiers were 
 drawing rapidly near. The violent deed of the preceding 
 night had incensed the Roman centurion. He was sending 
 out groups of men to note what was passing and to look for 
 evidence. The gathering at Melicu’s shop naturally roused 
 the suspicion of these emissaries of Galba. ‘They hastened 
 toward it in the hope of finding, if not the culprit, at least 
 some mischief-maker who could be used as a scape-goat. 
 
 But the Hebrews were too wary to be caught. Excitement 
 cooled the moment the Romans were sighted. The group 
 melted. Reaching the spot, the soldiers met only a number 
 of men going this way and that way in a perfectly orderly 
 
PART I— ZATTHU 11 
 
 manner. Such talk as they heard was upon trade. There 
 was no ground for arresting any one. To make an arrest 
 upon mere suspicion was folly. It was deeds of that kind 
 that infuriated the populace and made governing Jerusalem 
 anything but an easy task. 
 
 So the Romans looked searchingly at each member of the 
 scattering group without detecting a sign of rebellious 
 activity. They altogether missed Melicu’s injunction to his 
 friend Hattush, whispered secretly into his ear, 
 
 “Come to the synagogue of Joshua with me tonight and 
 hear Zatthu. I will wait for you. Be at my house at dusk.” 
 
12 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 III 
 
 Jerusalem, like many other ancient cities, was more than 
 once rudely treated by the devastating hand of war. Its walls 
 were rased by Ptolemy, Alexander’s general, a few years after 
 the great Macedonian succumbed to fever at Babylon. They 
 were rebuilt and the city thrived for a hundred and fifty years 
 till it was burned by the army of Antiochus Epiphanes. ‘The 
 Maccabees restored its prosperity which was continued and 
 augmented by Herod the Great. Under that vicious but 
 enterprising ruler, the city grew in area, in population, and 
 in the splendor and stateliness of its buildings. The hill 
 where the Temple stood was still the citadel, as it had been 
 even from the time of David; but the higher western hill on 
 the other side of the deep T'yropeon ravine was now included 
 within the city walls and was covered with buildings. Here 
 stood the massive palace where the sentinel was slain. Here 
 were some of the three hundred synagogues that were to be 
 found at this period within the walls of Jerusalem. 
 
 The synagogue of Joshua, to which Melicu had asked 
 Hattush to accompany him, was one of these newer syna- 
 gogues in this newly constructed portion of the city. It was 
 in the southwest corner, as far removed as possible from the 
 Tower of Antonia on Temple Hill where the Roman garrison 
 had its quarters. The distance was not indeed great. Jeru- 
 salem, even at this period of expansion and prosperity, cov- 
 ered only a few hundred acres. From corner to corner it 
 measured hardly a mile. None the less, the Jews did not wish 
 _to be directly under the eyes of the vigilant legionaries when 
 they talked sedition. 
 
 No more did they choose to attract attention by flocking 
 in crowds to a meeting place. All Jerusalem was eager to 
 hear Zatthu. Any synagogue that he spoke in was filled to 
 overflowing. Precautions therefore had to be taken to keep 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 13 
 
 his audiences from being unwieldy and from inviting Roman 
 interference. The news that he was to address a gathering 
 was not spread broadcast. To the appointed synagogue the 
 Jews who had been notified made their way with wariness. 
 They strolled in one by one for an hour or two before the 
 designated time. 
 
 In the Synagogue of Joshua they had been thus assembling 
 for some time before Melicu and Hattush reached it. Press- 
 ing to the front the two traders found seats with difficulty, 
 for the building, which did not comfortably hold more than 
 two hundred, was already full. Yet it had to find room for 
 more. Singly, or by twos and threes, men continued to enter, 
 each one carefully noted by the doorkeepers as he passed 
 inside. For this was a conclave of true-hearted patriots and 
 no one in the pay of Rome could gain admission if he was 
 under the smallest suspicion. But the ways of the spy are 
 subtle. His is a profession that calls for unceasing craft, 
 resourcefulness and ready invention. If those vigilant watch- 
 ers at the doorway had admitted none whose intent was 
 treacherous, they had done well. 
 
 By the time that dusk had thickened into night every foot 
 of standing room in the synagogue was occupied. A few late 
 comers had to be denied admission. And it seemed indeed as 
 if none but patriots were to be found among those dark-eyed 
 Hebrews, on every one of whom was stamped indelibly the 
 marks of one of the mighty races of the world. It was an 
 inspiring scene that Hattush and Melicu became a part of. 
 It had indeed more significance than they could read. For 
 even in the dim light of the lamps the faces of this body of 
 determined men showed the power that had made their people 
 great in the land of their fathers and was to make them great 
 through countless centuries in every part of the globe. Those 
 flashing eyes, those strong features aglow with patriotic fire, 
 those attitudes that, both of the sitting and the standing, 
 denoted resolution and alertness, not an indolent or shifting 
 
14 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 mood — all bespoke virility, power to scheme and power to 
 accomplish, power, too, for limitless sacrifice and suffering in 
 a holy cause. Here was not the patient submissiveness of a 
 brooding Oriental race. ‘These were the children of those 
 who had murmured in the Wilderness, turned against Moses 
 even at the foot of flaming Sinai, called for a king when God 
 himself was ruling them and then breathed defiance against 
 the very kings they had set up. These were of the race of 
 Joshua and Deborah and Samson and the Maccabees. These 
 were the progeny of holy men who had spoken the word of 
 the Most High. 
 
 To the glorious days when God had shown them peculiar 
 favor, smitten down their enemies and touched their prophets’ 
 lips with sacred fire, they now looked back with pride and 
 longing. And their longing was intensified by a sense of their 
 own degradation. For was it not degrading to bow down 
 to heathen Rome? Why should this coarse and brutal people 
 flout them and jeer at them and trample them under foot? 
 Why had the dread Jehovah ever allowed it to wax mighty on 
 the earth? It had reared no altars unto Him. It had had 
 no Moses or Elijah to interpret his Holy Will or work won- 
 ders in his Holy Name. Rome was unclean. Rome set up 
 graven images that Jehovah could only look upon with loath- 
 ing. Why then did He not blast its legions with lightning, 
 overthrow its idols and level its foul temples with an earth- 
 quake? Why did not Rome’s very sky grow black in token 
 of God’s wrath? 
 
 It was this feeling, smouldering ever in the Hebrew mind, 
 that Zatthu was kindling into a flame. A Pharisee of dis- 
 tinguished family, he had while but a youth formed the pur- 
 pose of freeing his country. As he reached manhood the 
 idea became a passion. He was now but twenty-five, but he 
 possessed a dignity and gravity beyond his years and his 
 native powers of leadership had made his influence potent in 
 Jerusalem. He never lost an opportunity to plead his cause; 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 15 
 
 and so menacing had he become that the Romans were gather- 
 ing the evidence that would warrant them in arresting him 
 for sedition. Yet fearlessly, though warily, he kept at his 
 appointed task. No ties of kindred had he to make him 
 pause. He was unmarried; his father and mother were dead; 
 the brother and sister who shared the household with him 
 were in full sympathy with his cherished purpose. Nor did 
 he have to consider the question of subsistence. His father 
 had grown wealthy by dealing in rugs, silks, linens and all 
 manner of fine fabrics; and this business Zatthu’s brother 
 carried on successfully. He was several years older than 
 Zatthu, but to this younger scion of the house he looked up 
 with reverence and admiration, really believing that Jehovah 
 had chosen him to free Israel from bondage. Whatever need 
 Zatthu ever had for money or for the things that money 
 could furnish was promptly and amply satisfied. 
 
 The synagogue having received all it could hold, the chief 
 elder began the ceremony of worship. But he made the ritual 
 brief. It was not for worship that they had come. It was 
 to hear Zatthu. And as soon as the brief service of prayer 
 and praise was ended, Zatthu arose and spoke. 
 
 From the beginning he held his hearers spellbound, for he 
 spoke with the force and intensity of a forceful and pas- 
 sionate nature. In stature he was not imposing, being slight 
 and of medium height. But his large flashing eyes, his 
 strongly marked features and his piercing vibrant speech all 
 betokened a character fitted to impose its own will upon 
 others. Yet burning though his utterance was, it was modu- 
 lated like that of all who are born to sway the multitudes. 
 Not all of his words had stinging power. Not all of his tones 
 had the note of the clarion. Now his speech was low and 
 calm, though always distinctly heard. Now it was more 
 unrestrained, like the steady flow of a deep and rapid river. 
 And now it was passionate and stormy, its thrilling cadences 
 
16 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 surging upon his hearers like billows crashing on an ocean 
 shore. 
 
 Having thus at his command all the arts of the native 
 orator, he held the assemblage absolutely under his sway 
 while he reviewed at length the insolence and the iniquities 
 of Roman rule. Then reaching the point where he wished to 
 play upon the emotions, he burst into a passionate harangue. 
 
 “Next month is our holy Passover,” he exclaimed, ‘“‘and 
 think what it means! Think how Jehovah passed over the 
 doors of our own people on that terrible night and smote the 
 Egyptians till there was not a single house without one dead! 
 He helped us then. He helped us through many generations, 
 and will he fail us now? Like a flock our people followed 
 Moses out of Egypt. Pharaoh pursued them with his chari- 
 ots. The Red Sea swallowed him. At Rephidim came forth 
 Amalek and fought with Israel. He was strong. He was 
 valiant. But Moses stretched forth his rod and Aaron and 
 Hur held up his weary hands. Jehovah saw. Jehovah 
 reached down from the heavens. The Amalekites fell before 
 the sword of Israel like the grain before the sickle. And 
 what could the chariots of Jabin do against Him who Keepeth 
 Israel and who neither slumbers nor sleeps? Into Deborah 
 He sent his spirit. She breathed it into Barak and he drove 
 the chariots before him as the stormwind drives the dust. 
 Do you tell me that Saul was vanquished by the Philistines 
 and fell upon his sword to save himself from shame? It was 
 even so. Saul’s sons were slain and he himself died by his own 
 hand on Mount Gilboa. But why was Jehovah’s might not 
 used against his enemies? Why did they triumph over Saul 
 and drive him from the field of battle? Even because he dis- 
 obeyed. He lost his faith, and when he had lost it, he was 
 no better than the uncircumcised Philistines who cut off his 
 head and bore it in triumph away. 
 
 “And so it is today and so it will always be. Have faith, 
 O men of Judea! Have faith and the rivers will make way 
 
PART I— ZATTHU Le 
 
 for you to cross. Have faith and a cloud will go before you 
 by day and a pillar of fire by night. Have faith and to you 
 as to the servant of Elisha the heavens will open and you will 
 see that round about you there are horses and chariots of fire. 
 
 “What are men? Are they not, I hear you saying, like 
 the leaves of the forest? In the springtime the leaves are all 
 alike green; the autumn comes and every one of them falls 
 to the ground. One is no better than another. And is one 
 pebble on the beach more perfect than the myriads that are 
 ceaselessly washed by the waves? No, surely not. But be 
 not deceived, O my countrymen! Be not lulled into sloth by 
 thoughts like these! The heathen are indeed like the leaves 
 or the sands upon the shore. Not so the Hebrew, unless he 
 lets his faith in Jehovah die. For has not the great Jehovah 
 chosen us to be his own peculiar people? Has He not made 
 this manifest by signs and wonders manifold? The Hebrew 
 who has faith is not like a common sheep in a countless herd. 
 He is a prophet. Heisaking. With Jehovah on his side he 
 can do deeds that will be told all through the ages. He 
 CAT pret. jie & 
 
 But all that the man of faith could accomplish was not 
 told. A low sibilant noise was made at this moment by one 
 of the doorkeepers who had suddenly entered the room. It 
 was the danger signal. Scouts were posted whenever a 
 gathering like this assembled. They had given warning, and 
 the warning meant that Roman soldiers were near and were 
 undoubtedly about to make their way into the building. 
 Instantly, therefore, after the warning was given Zatthu 
 ceased speaking, left the raised platform from which he had 
 given his harangue and withdrew into a small secret apart- 
 ment, so cunningly contrived that it would hardly have been 
 discovered by a thorough search. To be sure, the Romans 
 would not have ventured to arrest Zatthu had they found him 
 sitting quietly there as a listener. Still, it seemed best to 
 secrete him so that not even his presence there should be 
 
18 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 known and help to bring him into suspicion. And even as 
 he disappeared from sight one of the Batlanim, or elders, 
 came forward and began to address those present upon a 
 matter of justice which two disagreeing members of the syna- 
 gogue had referred to it. Hardly had he opened the case, 
 however, when Scapulo, the decurion who had placed the un- 
 fortunate Tullius on duty the previous evening, appeared 
 with two legionaries and forced his way into the assembly. 
 
 No attempt was made to bar them out. To defy the 
 authority of Rome was as unwise as it was useless; so the 
 doorkeepers merely protested against the intrusion as need- 
 less and insulting. But so densely packed was the synagogue 
 that Scapulo and his two followers had difficulty in getting 
 a footing init. They were not indeed able to do so until they 
 had ordered several to go outside and had taken advantage 
 of the room thus made. Gradually edging his way forward 
 and indifferent to the scowling looks directed at him, Scapulo 
 stood and surveyed the scene. There was nothing to suggest 
 disorder. He listened to the elder who all this time had been 
 calmly presenting the question the synagogue had to decide. 
 His remarks had not the smallest savor of sedition. In dis- 
 gust at his failure Scapulo said to Piltai the trader in house- 
 hold wares, who happened to be standing next to him, 
 
 “Did not your countrymen come here to hear Zatthu this 
 evening?” 
 
 “Zatthu?” was the answer. ‘I do not know him. I do not 
 think he belongs to this synagogue. We came to settle a ques- 
 tion of justice which one of our elders is now presenting.” 
 
 ‘““A very interesting question it must be to have drawn so 
 many here. Is the synagogue usually so thronged when you 
 settle questions of justice?” 
 
 “This is a matter of great importance. It has roused much 
 feeling.” 
 
 “So I see. Your elder is long in presenting it. When did 
 he begin?” 
 
PART I— ZATTHU 19 
 
 “Some time ago. I could not say when, I have listened so 
 intently.” 
 
 “And Zatthu has not been speaking at all?” 
 
 “Zatthu? Zatthu? I told you he did not belong to this 
 synagogue. ‘This is only one of our regular meetings to settle 
 a question of justice.” 
 
 Scapulo knew he should have found a very different scene 
 if he could have made his way unannounced into the syna- 
 gogue. But he saw the uselessness of further questioning. 
 Reluctantly he withdrew and the two soldiers followed him. 
 That he was closely watched he did not doubt, and he there- 
 fore thought he should gain nothing by remaining in the 
 neighborhood. He proceeded back to the garrison, and as 
 soon as he was well on his way the gathering in the synagogue 
 of Joshua dispersed. ‘The question of justice was not settled 
 that evening, and as those who had made up the assemblage 
 wended their way homeward their talk was solely of Zatthu 
 and his burning words. 
 
 Hattush, Melicu and Piltai walked together. They were 
 not brought into these pages to play individual parts of con- 
 sequence, and they will not appear again. What passed be- 
 tween them has its value only as showing how the men of 
 Jerusalem were at this time feeling toward Rome. 
 
 “What think you now of sparing these heathen, Hattush?” 
 inquired Piltai. 
 
 “Jehovah did indeed destroy them unsparingly in the olden 
 days,” replied Hattush. “Still, it does seem to me a fearful 
 thing to steal up behind a man and stab him in the back.” 
 
 ‘“‘But if he is an unbeliever, he isn’t really a man,” answered 
 Melicu. “He is only fit to be slaughtered, like the Philistines 
 whom Samson slew. But never mind, Piltai. We'll convert 
 him yet, and when Zatthu raises his banner he’ll be in the 
 thickest of the fight.” 
 
20 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IV 
 
 In raising the spirit of insurrection, Zatthu very well knew 
 the hazard he was braving. The centurion in command of 
 the Roman garrison would not sit still and let rebellion foment 
 under his very eyes. ‘The man who was encouraging it was 
 surely marked. His words and actions were daily told to 
 Galba. Rome never suffered her authority to be openly de- 
 fied. Zatthu must crush the ruling power or speedily be 
 crushed by it. 
 
 His sanguine hope was that he could crush it. Judea was 
 a very hotbed of sedition. Not long after the death of Herod 
 the Great, it had been made a Roman province together with 
 Samaria; for his son Archelaus had ruled this section of 
 Palestine with such barbarity that he was deposed by Rome. 
 In his place a procurator ruled, and the Roman system of 
 government, with its customs, excise and other obnoxious 
 features, was established over the unhappy and resentful 
 people. 
 
 The resentment was all the deeper because the two other 
 sons of Herod the Great still ruled the provinces they had 
 inherited. Herod Antipas was tetrarch of Galilee and 
 Perea; Herod Philip, of the district beyond the Jordan. 
 True, the genuinely patriotic Jews were no friends of this 
 unprincipled dynasty. Herod the Great had rebuilt the 
 Temple at Jerusalem, but he was a loose liver and a skeptic. 
 His sons were as irreligious and unprincipled as he, and 
 Archelaus, the elder, who had been dethroned, added gross 
 cruelty to his other vices. But even a Herod was better 
 than a procurator. So thought the people of Judea in their 
 fierce hatred of the oppressive Roman rule. 
 
 To make them openly rebel against this rule was Zatthu’s 
 aim. All the sects that were truly Jewish at heart he hoped 
 to unite by the tie of patriotism. He was himself a Pharisee 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 21 
 
 of the strictest school. But surely Pharisees, Sadducees and 
 Essenes could forget their differences in their love for their 
 bleeding and insulted country. Let the fawning Herodians 
 pander to the reigning princes. They were no true children 
 of Abraham. In their minds they were heathen; in their 
 lives they were corrupt. Nor was it worth while to fire the 
 Assassins (the Sicari) with fresh zeal. They were only too 
 ready to strike down a Roman whenever they found oppor- 
 tunity. The hunchback Kelita, who had slain the Roman 
 sentry in the Temple precinct, was one of their body and his 
 deed well typified their reckless daring. Rather did they need 
 to be curbed than goaded on; for such wanton violence could 
 only incite the Roman government to watchfulness and stern 
 acts of repression. But if all who had a true pride in the 
 nation’s former glory would bury petty jealousies and strike 
 at the power that was oppressing them, what might not be 
 done? 
 
 Did Zatthu really believe that the God of Israel would fight 
 with his chosen people now as He had done when He led them 
 out of Egypt? Did he think that when the battle actually 
 raged the Roman armies would be destroyed by fire from 
 heaven like the companies sent to seize Elisha? Undoubtedly 
 he did. If he had wavered at first in thinking so, he wavered 
 no longer. So often had he urged the idea that it had now 
 fully possessed him. He had the prophct’s soul. He was 
 fixed in the belief that his people were to rule the world. 
 They were set apart by Jehovah. All the other nations wor- 
 shipped false gods and were marked for destruction. Jehovah 
 loathed their unclean rites. He could but destroy them all. 
 It was only a matter of time. These Romans were ever grow- 
 ing more wanton and shameless. Could the Keeper of Israel 
 see his own children slain and routed by these wantons? It 
 could not be. So he preached insurrection with all the fire 
 of his passionate spirit. Miracles might not after all be 
 
22 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 needed when the hour of deliverance came. But were they 
 needed, they would surely come to pass. 
 
 Yet withal Zatthu was wary. ‘The blow must soon be 
 struck, or he would be seized and prevented from directing it. 
 Already therefore had he become careful about showing him- 
 self upon the streets. When he did walk abroad, he went in 
 the midst of a group of devoted followers. And his caution 
 had been increased by Kelita’s murder of the sentry. He 
 must lose no time in making the leaders of the three great 
 sects come together. That done, there could be an uprising 
 that would sweep Rome’s insolent soldiers from the land. 
 
 But Rome was too watchful for him. The appearance of 
 Scapulo and his men at the synagogue made him seek seclu- 
 sion for a brief space. From the gathering at which he had 
 spoken so vehemently he did not go to his own house on the 
 Temple Hill. He took shelter with a friend who lived in one 
 of the houses that were clustered on the west slope of the 
 Tyropeon valley as thickly as the nests of swallows line some 
 projecting eaves. Here he kept himself concealed till the 
 afternoon of the second day. He then ventured forth, intend- 
 ing to go to the house of a wealthy and influential Sadducee 
 where he was to confer with a number of the weighty members 
 of their party. The Sadducee lived in the older or eastern 
 portion of the city; and to reach his dwelling it was necessary 
 to cross the Tyropeon valley. Thinking the Romans might 
 be guarding the two bridges that spanned it, Zatthu and his 
 followers — men with arms concealed about them always 
 attended him now — went down the steep and narrow street 
 that led into the thoroughfare at the bottom. But just as 
 they were about to pass into this thoroughfare directly oppo- 
 site to the shop of Melicu, the dealer in dried fruits, they 
 found themselves confronted by a decurion and his squad. 
 Looking back they saw that another group of soldiers had 
 closed in upon them in the rear. Flight was impossible. Re- 
 sistance to these men in full armor was unwise. Zatthu had 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 23 
 
 to act quickly, for his followers had already drawn their long 
 knives. It was barely possible they could hew for him a 
 passage through these formidable foes, but only at the cost 
 of the lives of nearly all. This he would not sanction. 
 
 “No violence, friends!” he said commandingly. “It will 
 hurt our holy cause.” 
 
 And being told he was under arrest, he gave himself up and 
 was led away. 
 
 But the scene that followed showed how unspeakably the 
 people of Jerusalem detested the Roman rule. Zatthu’s 
 friends put up their knives at their leader’s bidding, but they 
 followed the soldiers and jibed them unceasingly. They 
 called them evil names. ‘They praved that fire from heaven 
 might come down and consume them. Attracted by their 
 vehement outcries, others joined them and hurled similar 
 execrations at the Romans. Nor were they satisfied with 
 mere wordy demonstrations. Keeping out of reach of the 
 soldiers’ spears and broadswords, they began to shower mis- 
 siles upon them. Refuse, stones, stray bits of broken earthen- 
 ware, anything on which they could lay their hands they used 
 against these hated servants of the power that ruled them, 
 while ever fiercer and more insulting grew their jibes. 
 
 “They are only carrion, vile carrion.” 
 
 “Not all the water in Jordan would wash them clean.” 
 
 “The dogs in the street would not lick up their tainted 
 blood.” 
 
 “And the kites wouldn’t touch their corpses.” 
 
 “They are filthier than swine.” 
 
 “They are lepers every one.” 
 
 “Their Rome is a sink that no Jew could bear to smell of.” 
 
 Against these insolent cries the Roman discipline was 
 proof; but the ever growing violence called for rebuke. One 
 of the decurions suddenly turned and charged the crowd with 
 half a dozen of his men. Too dense was the throng to give 
 way before the assault. The decurion’s sword severely 
 
24 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 wounded one of the rioters; the spears of his soldiers pricked 
 others with no gentle touch. Suddenly all fell back as rapidly 
 as the crowded space allowed. Tamed but still defiant, they 
 followed now at a distance and their execrations were more 
 feebly uttered. Without farther molestation the group of 
 legionaries with their captive made their way up to the ‘Tower 
 of Antonia on Temple Hill. 
 
 Without delay Zatthu was ushered into Galba’s presence. 
 The centurion eyed him sternly for some moments without 
 speaking. He was measuring the man and in his heart was 
 rather pitying than condemning him. In the erect and fear- 
 less mien, the finely moulded noble features and the burning 
 eyes that told of a soul on fire with love of country, he saw a 
 foe to be respected, yes, even to be feared if left at large. 
 Himself a patriot and a man of humane feeling, he could not 
 but admire this alien who was giving to his own land a devo- 
 tion without stint or measure. But he was a Roman officer 
 and this sympathy he could not even in the smallest degree 
 make manifest to this dangerous enemy of Rome. 
 
 “Your name is Zatthu?” he inquired. 
 
 Lbs iy 
 
 “And you are conspiring against the Roman Empire?” 
 
 Zatthu eyed the centurion unflinchingly, but gave no 
 answer. 
 
 “You do not deny it because you know it is true,” con- 
 tinued Galba, returning the Hebrew’s steady gaze; “as it is 
 also true that you have been making seditious speeches to 
 your countrymen at various times and places — night before 
 last, for example, at the synagogue of Joshua. Are you 
 ready to admit this?” 
 
 “Of what use to deny it? You have made up your mind 
 that itis so. But you have no proofs.” 
 
 “Proofs I have and proofs in abundance.” 
 
 “Spies!” exclaimed Zatthu, in a tone that was almost a 
 hiss and made plain his contempt and indignation. 
 
 b) 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 25 
 
 “Perhaps. I shall not tell you how I obtained my informa- 
 tion. But if you think your own countrymen have been 
 persuaded by Rome to betray your words and movements, 
 visit your wrath upon them, not upon the officers of Rome. 
 But such proofs as I have will not now be made known to you. 
 You are not on trial here. So serious do I consider your case 
 that I am going to send you to Cesarea to be tried by Pilate, 
 the governor of Judea. To him I shall forward all the evi- 
 dence I have against you. And a part of that evidence is 
 the murder of the sentry who was slain near your temple 
 three nights ago. I have not been able to trace that cowardly 
 deed directly to you; but I cannot really doubt it resulted 
 from the inflammatory appeals you have been making to the 
 men of Jerusalem. That Pilate will share this conviction of 
 mine, I have no right to say; yet at heart I am sure that he 
 will do so. 
 
 “If you were really on trial, I should of course let you 
 speak and defend yourself. But that right you are to exer- 
 cise before Pilate, not before me. ‘Tomorrow you will take 
 the journey, and the force that goes with you will be sufficient 
 to make any attempt at rescue futile. 
 
 *“Decimus, see that the prisoner is securely guarded through 
 the night.” 
 
26 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 V 
 
 Pontius Pilate had been procurator of Judxa and Samaria 
 for some years before the events so far narrated took place. 
 It was in the year 26 A.D. that he took up the reins of 
 government and it was at Cesarea, the main seat of the Ro- 
 man power in Palestine, that he made his home. This city 
 had grown from the humblest of beginnings. Before Judea 
 was made a Roman province, it was not even a thriving 
 settlement, but only a point where ships could put in from 
 sea. Augustus Cesar ruled that the procurator should there 
 establish himself with the forces that were to keep this trou- 
 blesome country in order. That was in the year 6 A.D.; and 
 from that time it had been a post of consequence. The first 
 procurator lived there altogether. Pilate for a time gave it 
 the preference over Jerusalem, where he was sure to find him- 
 self in no friendly atmosphere. 
 
 Good reason had its citizens for disliking him. His rule 
 had been tyrannical and harsh. With true Roman contempt 
 for an alien people he had trampled on things the Jews held 
 sacred. ‘To build an aqueduct he seized their sacred fund; 
 and the uprising caused by this high-handed action he put 
 down with bloodshed. Into their city, where Solomon had 
 reigned in glory and invoked the blessing of Jehovah, he 
 brought the standards of Rome’s heathen rule. And even 
 their temple had not been free from his desecrating hand; 
 for in it he had tried to hang trophies of Roman conquest in 
 the shape of brazen shields. 
 
 These and other despotic actions had made his name a 
 byword of reproach with the people of Jerusalem. Natu- 
 rally therefore he disliked the city and its inhabitants. Pre- 
 senting himself there from time to time, he yet found life 
 more genial at Cesarea. The Jews he looked upon as un- 
 reasonable and quarrelsome. For their traditions he had no 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 27 
 
 respect. Their pride in their past he viewed as a menace to 
 Rome. In their religion he could see no meaning. So far as 
 the spirit of inquiry was in him, he sought enlightenment from 
 the philosophers of Greece and his own country. How could 
 there be truth in the rites and teachings of these zealots who 
 put their strange belief above the worship of all nations? 
 
 Not at all pleased then was Pilate to learn that there had 
 been fresh disturbances at Jerusalem and that the author of 
 them had been sent to him for punishment. Why had Galba 
 done this? Why had he not dealt with him himself? He 
 might have imprisoned him or even have put him to death; 
 for no doubt the man was guilty. But he, Pilate, was loath 
 to pronounce a harsh sentence on a Jew of note and cause 
 himself to be still further reviled by the rabble at Jerusalem. 
 Still, he always loved to see and study men, and this man 
 appeared to be no ordinary character. Carefully he read all 
 the evidence that Galba had sent him. It was damning. 
 Severity was absolutely called for. But it would be well worth 
 while to draw the man out and get at his mind before passing 
 judgment upon him. 
 
28 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VI 
 
 Zatthu and his guards were three days in making the 
 journey from Jerusalem to Cxsarea. The distance was sixty 
 miles, and twenty miles made a good day’s journey when 
 haste was not imperative. 
 
 As he passed within the city walls Zatthu cast searching 
 glances about him. On every side were the evidences of the 
 hated Roman presence and activity. All the buildings showed 
 the solid Roman masonry, the equal of which the world has 
 not seen. They soon passed by the amphitheatre without 
 which a Roman city could not be complete. Proceeding not 
 very much further, for the city was not large, they came to 
 the seat of government close to the harbor. Here they could 
 look out upon the sea, but it was not its blue waters that 
 chiefly attracted Zatthu’s eyes. They rested on the massive 
 breakwater that offered protection against the fierce Medi- 
 terranean storms. He turned to gaze at the solid official 
 buildings. They too symbolized the might, the seemingly in- 
 destructible might, of the power he had set himself to over- 
 throw. Something very much lke a curse shaped itself in his 
 mind as he noted these signs of august rule. It was a stern 
 task he had undertaken. But captive though he was, he had 
 lost nothing of heart or hope. What mattered it how strong 
 was the power to be conquered? Jehovah who made the moun- 
 tains was to bring it down into the dust. 
 
 It was therefore with a defiant spirit that Zatthu faced 
 Pilate after spending his first night in Cesarea in one of the 
 prison cells. The substantial stone structure in which those 
 condemned for all manner of offences were kept contained 
 also a number of rooms devoted to administrative purposes; 
 and one of these was set apart for the uses of the Governor 
 of Judea. Into this apartment Zatthu was ushered the 
 morning of the first day after his arrival. His hands were 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 29 
 
 fettered. A soldier marched on either side of him. But his 
 step was rather that of a victorious general than of a cap- 
 tive as he was brought before the platform on which Pilate 
 sat in a chair of state. 
 
 They were face to face — accuser and accused, the Roman 
 magistrate and the Jewish rebel. Behind each was a wonder- 
 ful and mighty historic past. Each was now conscious that 
 he spoke not for himself but for his nation. To the Roman 
 this consciousness gave a disdainful feeling that did not how- 
 ever dull his interest in this man whose bold mien so challenged 
 his attention. Out of blinking, half-closed eyes he gazed 
 quizzically at Zatthu, his fingers interlaced and his thumbs 
 moving nervously now and then as if to relieve the tension of 
 his mind. His corpulent body and full face suggested the 
 man who was bent on getting all earth had to give him; yet 
 it was not difficult to see that he was no mere sensualist. The 
 mouth, weak though it was, showed refinement. The fore- 
 head was that of a thinker. The eyes, too furtive for sincere 
 frank character, had a flickering light of intellectual curios- 
 ity. And his spirit of inquiry was strongly roused as Pilate 
 gazed for a time in silence at this defiant figure. How trouble- 
 some these Jews were! he thought. Made arrogant by a 
 past of which the world knew nothing and which probably 
 was mere myth and legend, they would not accept cheerfully, 
 as other nations did, the rule of the imperial city that had 
 conquered the world. They thought their insignificant Jeru- 
 salem as great as Rome. They were always quarrelsome and 
 rebellious. And here was a man guilty of sedition and murder 
 who faced him as if he were a king. Well, he would pry into 
 his mind. As this wretched race insisted on disturbing his 
 peace, he would get all the satisfaction out of them he could; 
 and here was an offender well worth questioning. 
 
 “You are Zatthu?” he inquired. 
 
 “Zatthu is my name.” 
 
 ‘And the name of a rebel and a murderer.” 
 
30 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “That is mere accusation. You make it as if it were 
 proved. Is that Roman justice?” 
 
 “Call it an accusation if you wish. Do you deny the 
 charge?” 
 
 “T do. I am neither a rebel nor a murderer.” 
 
 “Yet you have been making Jerusalem a very hotbed of 
 sedition, and murder is done by those who listen to your evil 
 counsels.” 
 
 “Again, accusation but no proof.” 
 
 “The proof is here,” and with a weary air, as if he ought 
 not to be put to the trouble of establishing what was perfectly 
 well known, Pilate took up from a small table at the side of 
 his chair a scroll of parchment. 
 
 “On this paper,” he continued, “I find a full account of 
 your wicked and treasonable doings. In particular it is 
 stated that on the evening of the twenty-second day of this 
 month of Adar, that is to say, just five evenings ago, you 
 spoke in the Synagogue of Joshua at Jerusalem and urged 
 the men who filled it to overflowing to rise against Rome.” 
 
 “Again I say, a mere charge — just such a one as might 
 be invented by one who wanted to do me harm.” 
 
 “But the person who makes the charge was there and testi- 
 fies to what he heard.” 
 
 “Who was he?” 
 
 Pilate laid down the paper and interlocked his fingers as 
 before. He looked down, gazed at Zatthu for a moment, 
 and looked down again. Finally he said, 
 
 “He is a man whose word must be believed. I do not choose 
 to reveal his name.” 
 
 “Ts it written there?” 
 
 Impatiently Pilate replied, 
 
 “TJ am the questioner here, not you. These charges are 
 made by men on whose every word Rome relies. It is for you 
 to meet the charges. Once more I ask, do you deny them? 
 
PART I—ZATTHU d1 
 
 “T have already said that I am neither a rebel nor a mur- 
 derer.” 
 
 “You must meet them more directly. Did you or did you 
 not talk sedition at the Synagogue of Joshua on the evening 
 of the twenty-second day of this month of Adar?” 
 
 “T did not.” 
 
 Pilate was puzzled. Not willing to meet steadily the fear- 
 less flashing eyes of the prisoner, he yet seemed gradually to 
 read his thought and to see how he could baffle him. A faint 
 malicious smile stole over his face as he asked. 
 
 “Did you tell your hearers to resist the rule of Rome?” 
 
 pel id <3 
 
 “And yet you did not talk sedition?” 
 
 “Nig.72 
 
 “You contradict yourself. You add falsehood to rebel- 
 lion.” 
 
 “What is rebellion?” 
 
 “You do not need to be told. Answer your question your- 
 self.” 
 
 “T will. My people serve Jehovah. They but do His bid- 
 ding when they throw off the yoke of a nation that insults 
 Him by bowing down to unclean gods.” 
 
 “Who is Jehovah?” 
 
 “he creator of heaven and earth.” 
 
 “How do you know? Did you ever see Him?” 
 
 “No. Ido not count myself worthy. But our fathers saw 
 Him and talked with Him of old.” 
 
 “What was He like?” : 
 
 “He is too mighty and too terrible to be described. Even 
 his messenger is like a refiner’s fire.” 
 
 “Like a refiner’s fire? Why should he be like that?” 
 
 “To try men as silver is tried — burn away what is vile 
 and leave only what is pure.” 
 
 “A good thing, that, I should say. I should like to put 
 men I know through the process.” 
 
3832 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Would you like to go through it yourself?” 
 
 “Why not?” 
 
 “The fire burns fiercely. It burns till everything that is 
 foul, everything that is base, everything that is cruel and 
 lustful in a man is consumed. Sometimes there’s very little 
 Jeft in a man when it dies down.” 
 
 Again Pilate’s eyes sought the floor. His questioning of 
 this prisoner was not bringing him unmixed satisfaction. 
 Presently he asked, 
 
 “Did your people always serve this Jehovah? I seem to 
 have heard mention of kings of whom they are still proud — 
 David, and Solomon, and others too.” 
 
 “My country was great under David and Solomon long 
 before Rome was founded. But Jehovah chose this line of 
 kings for them, even as He chose my race to be his own 
 peculiar people.” 
 
 Again the sarcastic smile spread over Pilate’s face as he 
 replied, 
 
 “A doubtful choice, I should say. You have done nothing 
 to justify it but bow your necks down to be stepped on; and 
 seeing them in this inviting position, Rome has stepped on 
 them.” 
 
 Zatthu’s answer was not the explosive fury of a shallow 
 nature. With calmness and not without majesty, he said, 
 
 “This whole land has been dyed deep with the blood we 
 have poured forth in fighting Jehovah’s enemies. When the 
 time comes we shall pour it forth as freely and as gladly as 
 before in fighting Rome.” 
 
 ‘And yet you claim you are not a rebel!” 
 
 “YT have explained why I am not. Our cause is Jehovah’s 
 cause. We own no earthly master. Rome will some day 
 learn this to her cost.” 
 
 “Perhaps you plan to murder us all as you murdered the 
 sentry near Herod’s palace.” 
 
 “You claim to have proved that I have talked seditiously, 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 33 
 
 though you produce no witness and will not name your in- 
 former. Let it pass. I will not fight the accusation, for I 
 see it would be useless. But of this charge of murder I am 
 absolutely innocent and I challenge you to prove it.” 
 
 “The murder followed close upon and was occasioned by 
 your own inflammatory talk; for your seditious harangue in 
 the Synagogue of Joshua was but one of many you have 
 made. The foul deed would never have been done had you 
 not been putting lawlessness and murder into the minds of 
 your countrymen. That you therefore are the real perpe- 
 trator of this abominable act is evident.” 
 
 “Tt is not evident. I deny it utterly. You insult justice 
 when you brand me as a murderer and produce no evidence. 
 I lift these chains as witness how wantonly Rome. treats her 
 captives.” 
 
 Zatthu held up his manacled hands and, still self-con- 
 trolled, he yet spoke as one whose soul was shaken. His rich 
 sonorous voice rang through the room. He seemed the 
 accuser, not the accused, and his was the dominating presence 
 there. 
 
 Pilate was disturbed. He glanced furtively about him to 
 see how this formidable prisoner was impressing the soldiers 
 who had brought him in. Especially did he look to a Roman 
 officer who was seated near him on the platform. He was a 
 man of frank noble countenance and magnificent proportions. 
 That Pilate had given him a seat of honor near his own magis- 
 terial chair showed that he held some position of consequence. 
 With a grave countenance he was noting and studying Zatthu 
 carefully, but his expression gave no clue to his feelings. 
 Pilate would plainly have been glad to get from him some 
 intimation as to what his own procedure should now be. Re- 
 ceiving none, he had to act upon his own initiative; but one 
 skilled in reading character would have seen that the con- 
 clusion he came to was reached only through doubt and 
 hesitation. 
 
34 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Quintus,” he said, addressing the centurion who had con- 
 ducted Zatthu into Pilate’s presence, “remove the prisoner’s 
 chains.” 
 
 The order was obeyed, yet it was hardly a grateful look 
 that Zatthu gave to Pilate in consequence. It was rather 
 that of one who reads weakness in an enemy and wonders 
 how far he can use it. 
 
 “Roman justice,” said Pilate, “is stern but it is not cruel. 
 It is not its wont to offer insults or to make accusations it 
 cannot sustain. If it was not a man fired by your own in- 
 cendiary talk that killed the sentry, who did it? Who could 
 have had the wish or the interest to do it?” 
 
 “You surely know that there exists in this country a band 
 of men who are called Sicari, or Assassins. Stung by Rome’s 
 wanton and hateful rule, they count it a deed of justice to 
 slay a Roman in any way they can. It was doubtless one of 
 this band who slew the sentry.” 
 
 “Do you approve of them?” 
 
 “They are patriots. It is not by such stray acts of blood- 
 shed that Jehovah will set us free.” 
 
 “How will He set you free?” 
 
 “By lightning that will blast you. By fire from heaven 
 that will consume you. By earthquakes that will swallow 
 you up. By the angel of Death who will smite you as the 
 hurricane levels the corn.” 
 
 “Jehovah seems to have taken you into His counsels.” 
 
 “f only count upon His doing for this present generation 
 what He did for our fathers long ago.” 
 
 “Enough. Your own words have convicted you of sedi- 
 tion. It would only be justice to sentence you to death. 
 But I prefer to keep you alive as a hostage. You will be 
 imprisoned here and word will be sent to Jerusalem that if 
 any uprising takes place there, your life will pay the forfeit. 
 Quintus, take the prisoner away and guard him securely, as 
 you value your own life.” 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 35 
 
 “Shall I put the fetters on him again?” 
 
 Once more Pilate looked at the young officer beside him, 
 as if to get a hint whether clemency or severity should be 
 shown. But as before the grave face was impassive. Pilate 
 hesitated and then said, 
 
 “No. I do not think that is necessary. When the cell 
 door is fastened upon him, his countrymen will plot in vain 
 to set him free.” 
 
 As haughty and unsubdued as when he entered it, Zatthu 
 went out of the magisterial room. 
 
36 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VII 
 
 When the cell door clanged upon him, he sat down and 
 brooded over his present condition. Unwavering before Pi- 
 late, he had to admit to himself that his plight was desperate. 
 Cesarea was a Roman city; it was strongly garrisoned; 
 there were few of his countrymen living in it. Looking about 
 him, he saw that the prison was massively built and the win- 
 dow of his cell was heavily barred. Escape seemed impossible. 
 
 But the God of his fathers would not desert him. The 
 cause he lived for was Jehovah’s cause. It could not fail. 
 But would Jehovah make stone walls and locks and bars 
 give way and restore him to freedom? What was he, Zatthu, 
 that he should expect such a miraculous deliverance? His 
 heart grew humble as he realized his presumption in so look- 
 ing for a divine manifestation in his favor. For a while 
 a distrustful mood took possession of him. LEarnestly he 
 prayed that he might be forgiven if he had erred in putting 
 himself at any time before his great and holy purpose. But 
 as the hours passed his faith returned. His indomitable 
 spirit was filled with a sense of Jehovah’s guidance and pro- 
 tection. Trustful and resigned he sank into a deep sleep soon 
 after sundown, for he felt the strain of the harrowing experi- 
 ences he had been through. 
 
 About midnight he was suddenly wakened. Something fell 
 with a clash on the floor of his cell close to his bed of straw. 
 Starting up at the noise and forgetting his whereabouts, he 
 cried out, 
 
 “Who is there?” 
 
 “Hist!” came a low voice. “It is I, Kelita.” 
 
 “Where are you? How came you here?” 
 
 “fam at the window. Put a chair beneath it if you have 
 one and stand on it. Then we can talk to each other.” 
 
 Groping his way to the chair, Zatthu placed it underneath 
 
PART I— ZATTHU 37 
 
 the window and mounted it. So standing, he found himself 
 face to face with the hunchback whose form he could barely 
 make out through the prison bars. The window was just 
 below the ceiling of the cell, about six feet from the floor, 
 and the chair brought Zatthu’s head just opposite the win- 
 dow. No sooner had he placed himself than he inquired 
 eagerly, 
 
 “How came you here in Cesarea? How did you ever climb 
 up to this window?” | 
 
 “S-sh. This is no time for questions. Everything will be 
 explained to you when the time comes. Speak only in whis- 
 pers and not a word now. The sentry is about to pass this 
 way. I hear his footsteps.” 
 
 “But he will see you.” Zatthu could not forbear saying in 
 the faintest whisper. 
 
 “No,” was the equally low answer. ‘“‘It is pitch dark. Not 
 a star is shining.” 
 
 Both were now silent and Zatthu heard the sentry’s tread 
 grow gradually louder and then as gradually fade away after 
 he had passed by. When it was no longer audible, Kelita hur- 
 riedly whispered, 
 
 “TY am here to free you. In the package I threw down are 
 three new files. Use them to cut through these window bars. 
 They are heavy and you will have to remove two of them to 
 make your way out. This will take time, for you must work 
 carefully. I shall come again the fourth night from this at 
 this same hour. Even if it is not very dark I shall come, for 
 everything can be done right after the sentry has made his 
 round; and before he makes it again we shall be out of sight 
 and hearing if all goes well. I shall come under this window 
 and make a low hiss. If you have not succeeded in filing 
 the bars almost through, make the same sound yourself three 
 times, and I shall go away. If the bars are sufficiently filed, 
 throw down to me one end of the cord you will find also in 
 the packages of files. Fasten it to one of the bars you 
 
38. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 have not filed and I will climb up by it. Then we will wrench 
 the bars away and you will have no trouble in making your 
 escape. Be sure and file very cautiously so that the cuts you 
 make will not easily be seen. Have patience and may the 
 God of Israel bless and keep you.” 
 
 Before Zatthu could say a word in answer to these direc- 
 tions, the dwarf had begun to climb down. He had been 
 standing on the window sill in a bent and cramped position 
 from which he was glad to relieve himself. How he had got 
 over the high surrounding wall of the prison and how he had 
 climbed up to a window fully ten feet above the ground filled 
 Zatthu’s mind with wonder. But wonder quickly gave way 
 to anxiety, intense distressing anxiety, as he listened to see 
 whether by some untoward movement the attention of the 
 sentries was not roused. Several moments passed and there 
 was no alarm. Then he heard the low chuckle that Kelita 
 often gave to express joy or satisfaction and he was sure 
 that the dwarf had reached a place of safety. 
 
 With a thankful heart Zatthu jumped down from his chair 
 and groped for the package that had awakened him by its 
 fall. It contained the cord, also the three files which had 
 been so carefully wrapped in cloth of camel’s hair that they 
 had not been broken when thrown down upon the hard floor 
 of the cell. By feeling of them Zatthu satisfied himself that 
 their fine rasping edges had not been smoothed or worn by 
 use and that they would bite viciously into the iron of the 
 window bars. 
 
 “Jehovah has not forgotten me,” he murmured thankfully. 
 “Though He slay me yet will I not lose my faith in Him.” 
 
PART I —ZATTAO ' » 89 
 
 Vill 
 
 Good reason had Zatthu to wonder at Kelita’s midnight 
 appearance at the window of his cell. It had only been accom- 
 plished by persistency, skill and cunning. 
 
 The prison has already been spoken of as part of a large 
 building in which was centered the business of governing 
 Judea and Samaria and keeping all Palestine in order. Here 
 arms were stored, records and reports preserved, official work 
 transacted, and grave offenders, like Zatthu, tried, sentenced 
 and imprisoned. 
 
 Such being the important uses of the building, it was im- 
 portant to give it ample security. ‘To this end a wall of brick 
 some twelve feet high had been carried round the ample space 
 in the centre of which the building stood. Only one gate gave 
 admission through it and here sentries were always posted. 
 Even at night when it was shut two soldiers were placed there 
 and one of them made the round of the building twice every 
 hour. 
 
 To surmount such a high wall and evade the sentries was 
 no slight task. To climb up the prison wall to a window ten 
 feet above the ground was an equally difficult one. Yet both 
 of these feats Kelita had accomplished. 
 
 Undetected he had followed Zatthu and his escort all the 
 way from Jerusalem to Cesarea. In the latter city, he had 
 found where Zatthu was confined by worming himself into the 
 confidence of a legionary on duty about the administration 
 building. Passing himself off as a cripple who was too help- 
 less to excite suspicion, he got information he wanted when a 
 prison cell would have been promptly given him had his true 
 character been known. 
 
 Having located Zatthu, he had next to get to him. To do 
 this he enlisted the friendly offices of one of his countrymen. 
 Among the scattering Jews who had resorted to Cesarea was 
 
40 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 one Amariah who earned a livelihood by selling dried figs, 
 sour wine and olive oil. He was himself a timid man and 
 small of stature; but in his son Shobek the hunchback found 
 the very ally he was in need of. This lad of twenty-two was 
 a strapping fellow, over six feet tall and a Samson in strength. 
 With him to aid his hazardous undertaking, Kelita went to 
 the wall around the prison the night after Zatthu had been 
 sentenced by Pilate. 
 
 Standing erect with his back against the wall, Shobek 
 helped the hunchback to climb up and stand upon his shoul- 
 ders. Then seizing him by the feet he lifted him steadily up 
 till both his arms were straight. But Kelita was too short. 
 Strain as he might he could not reach the top of the wall by 
 a handbreadth. | 
 
 But Kelita’s crafty brain had provided against this failure. 
 Another scheme was tried and worked successfully. Shobek 
 had found for him a stout pole some ten feet long. To one 
 end of this the hunchback clung, while, firmly grasping the 
 other, the stalwart youth raised him till his hands could lay 
 hold of the outer edge of the wall. This accomplished, he 
 easily pulled himself up, such strength had he in his arms, 
 and sat astride of this triumphantly surmounted barrier. 
 The end of a rope he had been holding firmly in his teeth; the 
 other end was grasped by Shobek while Kelita lowered him- 
 _ self into the area by means of it. 
 
 A more difficult task was now before him, that of climbing 
 up to the window of Zatthu’s cell. It was more difficult be- 
 cause he had to accomplish it unaided. The building was of — 
 brick; but it had been constructed for strength and the bricks 
 had not been laid with perfect precision. There were pro- 
 truding edges; moreover the cement was not of the solid 
 enduring quality that usually distinguished Roman building. 
 Shrinking away into a dark corner whenever he heard a sentry» 
 coming on his round, Kelita worked patiently at weak spots 
 he found in the cement till he had made holes in which he 
 
PART I— ZATTHU A 
 
 thrust nails he had brought with him. By means of these he 
 made his way up to the window and had his interview with 
 Zatthu. The nails he removed when he made his way down 
 from the window. 
 
 True to his promise he came again at midnight after let- 
 ting four days go by. Arriving at the prison wall he listened 
 for the tread of the sentry. In a few moments it was plainly 
 heard. The man completed his round without seeing any- 
 thing to awaken suspicion and the sound of his footsteps 
 ceased. Now was the time to act. It was bright starlight 
 and what was to be done must be done promptly.. There was 
 no mantle of darkness to aid them. Everything depended on 
 nimbleness and courage. 
 
 Shobek, his stalwart helper, was with him. Mounting the 
 wall with the assistance of his ally in the same manner as be- 
 fore, Kelita let himself down into the area, stole noiselessly 
 beneath Zatthu’s window and gave a sharp hiss. Breathlessly 
 he awaited the answer. Would it be the three sibilant sounds 
 that could only send him away or the lowered cord? To his 
 joy he saw the cord come down. Zatthu had then been suc- 
 cessful. The bars were ready to be wrenched away. Rapidly 
 he swung himself up to the window. 
 
 Yes, Zatthu had been successful. He had found that the 
 files cut readily into the bars of the window and he had worked 
 carefully and patiently at his task. Standing on his chair 
 he had filed clean through two of the bars close to the window 
 sill. This he had not found very difficult. The upper cut- 
 tings had given him much trouble. The top of the window 
 was beyond his reach, and he had been obliged to stand on the 
 sill as he filed and held himself there in a very painful posi- 
 tion with one hand. And there was always the risk that his 
 cell might be suddenly entered while he was so employed and 
 that no matter how spry he was, he could not cover up what 
 he was doing. But fortune favored him. Before the after- 
 noon of the third day had gone by he had made the upper 
 
42 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 filings as deep as he dared. All through the fourth day and 
 the hours of darkness up to midnight he waited in a fever of 
 impatience for Kelita’s signal. Yet he was trustful all the 
 while. He was sure the dwarf had been chosen by Jehovah 
 to effect his deliverance. 
 
 The signal came. He was standing on his chair with the 
 cord in his hand. Hastily he lowered it and pulled himself 
 up onto the window sill. In a moment Kelita showed himself 
 on the other side of the bars. 
 
 “Ts it the two middle bars that have been filed?” inquired 
 the hunchback. 
 
 “Yes. They have been filed clean through below. They 
 will easily give way above when a hard wrench is given them.” 
 
 “IT will pull them away. I am better placed for doing it 
 than you.” 
 
 This said, Kelita seized one of the two and tugged hard at 
 it. It came away altogether and he handed it to Zatthu, 
 saying, 
 
 “Drop it carefully on the floor of your cell so as not to 
 make too loud a noise. It might alarm the guards. Now Vl 
 remove the other one.” 
 
 Grasping the second one he gave a sharp pull at it, using 
 the same force he had used before. But unhappily he put 
 too much strength into the effort. Without knowing it, for 
 the position he had to take when filing prevented him from 
 seeing perfectly, Zatthu had cut this second bar almost wholly 
 through. It was hanging only by an iron thread. So readily 
 therefore did it come away when Kelita wrenched it, that the 
 dwarf lost his balance and in spite of a frantic effort to save 
 himself fell with the piece of iron down upon the paved area 
 below. | 
 
 Agile as a cat he landed on his feet unhurt; and as he was 
 wearing a soft-soled shoe to make his tread noiseless, his own 
 fall might possibly not have roused the guards. But he had 
 not dared to keep his hold on the iron bar, fearing he might 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 43 
 
 land upon it and so injure himself that he could give no 
 further aid to Zatthu. Down with a clang fell the bar on the 
 stone pavement. Instantly were heard the footsteps of one 
 of the guards, who came to see what was the matter. 
 
 “Sh-sh-sh,” came the warning sound from the hunchback 
 to the ear of Zatthu. ‘‘Leave everything to me.” 
 
 Peering through the opening in the bars, which was large 
 enough for him to thrust his head through it, Zatthu saw the 
 hunchback crouch low at the corner of the building. Hurry- 
 ing round the corner came the guard with his sword already 
 drawn. But he had no chance to use it. Kelita’s knife was 
 in his throat almost before he was aware that he was facing 
 anenemy. With a groan that was hardly more than a gurgle 
 and which even in the night stillness Zatthu heard but faintly, 
 he stumbled forward. But he was not allowed to fall. The 
 hunchback caught him as he sank and lowered him to the 
 ground so that his armor did not clang upon the stone pav- 
 ing. Immediately followed his whispered command to Zatthu. 
 
 ‘““Now come down quickly by the rope before the other 
 guard is upon us.” 
 
 Even before the direction was given Zatthu had begun to 
 clamber down. He had such confidence in Kelita that he had 
 thought it wise to let him take the first steps that the emer- 
 gency called for. But the situation, bad as it was, must be 
 faced. This staunch deliverer could not be allowed to face 
 it alone. In a moment Zatthu was by the hunchback’s side. 
 
 Into his hand Kelita thrust the iron bar, which he had 
 picked up, and said, 
 
 ‘‘Now we will go to the corner of the wall where the rope 
 is hanging. Walk slowly and heavily. The other guard will 
 think it is his comrade and will be less likely to suspect mis- 
 chief than he would if he heard no noise at all. I shall make 
 no noise, for he mustn’t think there are two persons walking 
 about.” 
 
 Zatthu realized that the suggestion was shrewdly given. 
 
44. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Accordingly he walked with a leisurely and solid tread after 
 the hunchback to the corner which was some twenty steps 
 ‘away. But their mancuvre, though adroitly planned, was 
 not successful. The other sentry had not really suspected 
 that anything was amiss. Those regular unhurried foot- 
 steps suggested no disturbance. He did not seem to be 
 needed, but he was overpowered by curiosity. The gate was 
 secure. He could leave it without risk. He would go and 
 see what was happening. . 
 
 So Zatthu and Kelita heard his approaching steps before 
 they had got half way to the corner. Zatthu at once started 
 to run. 
 
 “Don’t run,” whispered the dwarf hurriedly. ‘That would 
 make him give the alarm. Our chance is in having to deal 
 with him alone.” 
 
 Hardly was this caution given before the sentry got sight 
 of them. Their leisurely pace puzzled him, but he was too 
 shrewd not to scent mischief. That neither of them was his 
 comrade he realized on the instant because he did not catch 
 the gleam of armor. So he darted forward, commanding 
 them to halt and calling at the same time on the sharer of his 
 watch. 
 
 ‘““Where are you, Septimus?” he cried. ‘‘There’s mischief 
 here. Come this way!” 
 
 Hearing no answering footsteps, he grew suspicious as he 
 ran; and crafty as all of Kelita’s movements had been after 
 his unfortunate fall from the window, they did not bring the 
 full success they merited. The guard raised a loud cry of 
 alarm as he ran. 
 
 “Help! Mischief! Help!” he shouted; and as he had had 
 only some sixty paces to run, he was close upon them as the 
 words left his mouth. 
 
 “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he demanded, 
 his sword drawn and held ready for a fatal thrust. 
 
 As the guard put the question Kelita stole around to stab 
 
 > 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 45 
 
 him from behind. But the man was an old legionary and a 
 wary fighter. He saw his danger. It was right by the wall 
 encircling the prison that he had overtaken them. Into the 
 very corner by which they had planned to make their escape 
 he darted and continued to call loudly for help. 
 
 “Use the bar while I draw a thrust from him,” whispered 
 the dwarf, and with his long knife he rushed at the sentry as 
 if to thrust him through. Almost did he receive a fatal wound 
 for the soldier aimed a fierce blow at his head which he just 
 succeeded in parrying as he dodged backward. But before 
 the sword could be raised for another blow Zatthu shattered 
 it with the iron prison bar. Dazed for an instant by this mis- 
 hap, the sentry was off his guard, and Kelita darted in and 
 slew him as he had slain his fellow guardsman by a stab in the 
 throat where the armor gave scant protection. 
 
 But the situation was desperate. The fallen sentry’s cry 
 for help had been heard and heeded. Just inside the prison 
 door slept a decurion with half a dozen men who had their 
 weapons by them and who were in readiness for just such an 
 emergency as this. ‘The decurion had not been sleeping 
 soundly. He had heard the sentry’s first cry for aid, and by 
 the time the man had fallen he had aroused the entire guard 
 and with his men close at his heels was hastening to the scene 
 of trouble. 
 
 Kelita’s one thought now was to ensure Zatthu’s escape. 
 Himself he gave up as lost. But much to his dismay Zatthu 
 had rushed to the spot where the first sentry had fallen and 
 possessed himself of his sword. A precious moment had been 
 lost; but possibly there was yet time. 
 
 “This way, quick. Over the wall. You have just time to 
 save yourself,” cried the hunchback. 
 
 “And leave you here to be killed? Never! I am going to 
 die with you.” 
 
 Kelita gave a groan of despair. He would have pleaded 
 against this sacrifice and the consequent ruin of the Sacred 
 
46 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Cause, but he had no opportunity. The decurion and his 
 men were now upon them. The two Hebrews stood together 
 in the angle of the wall, seeing no chance for life but deter- 
 mined to sell it as dearly as possible. 
 
 But not at once were they assailed. The decurion saw no 
 reason for killing them instantly without parley. They were 
 two against seven. It would be better to make captives of 
 them; for surely they would surrender rather than be cut 
 down. 
 
 *““Who are you?” he said, advancing a step or two toward 
 them but carefully guarding his person. 
 
 ‘Ah, I see,” he continued, as he peered at them through the 
 gloom. “You are Zatthu, the prisoner brought here from 
 Jerusalem, and a friend who thought he could set you free. 
 By Pollux, he came pretty near succeeding. But you see you 
 are caught. We are seven against two. Give yourselves up. 
 It is sure death if you don’t.” 
 
 ‘‘And sure death if we do,” was Zatthu’s answer. ‘*We do 
 not care to be executed by Pilate. We are going to die here. 
 Come on! We are ready.” 
 
 But more than ever did the decurion wish to capture 
 rather than kill them now that he had recognized the prisoner 
 who had been inciting rebellion at Jerusalem. Pilate he was 
 sure would wish to have this notable character delivered up 
 to him alive. So he fell back a step or two to instruct his 
 men just how to make the attack, and as he did so he was a 
 little off his guard. Even through the dim light Kelita saw 
 his opportunity, darted forward like a springing panther and 
 with his long knife slashed savagely at the decurion’s throat. 
 Just in time to avoid a death wound the officer slighty swerved. 
 He received a deep cut in the cheek and neck; but he was 
 not disabled and his fiercest wrath was roused. 
 
 “T will send this shorter knave straight to Hades,” he said 
 to his men. “Do you close in upon the taller one and lay him 
 low, but do not kill him. Pilate shall be his judge.” 
 
PART I— ZATTHU AT 
 
 So saying he rushed at Kelita who was again standing with 
 his back to the wall by Zatthu’s side. The decurion did not 
 dare to thrust in the deadly Roman fashion, for he feared an 
 answering thrust from the knife of the nimble Hebrew. It was 
 a sweeping side stroke that he gave, and so mighty a one that 
 it would have nearly hewn Kelita in two had he received its 
 force. But he dropped to the ground as it was delivered; 
 the decurion’s sword smote the brick wall so fiercely that it 
 was dashed out of his hand; and the next moment he himself 
 was lying flat upon the ground. For Kelita seized one of his 
 legs, toppled him over, and then plunged his knife deep into 
 his breast. 
 
 Even in the brief time that this action had taken, the other 
 Romans had rushed upon Zatthu and but for most timely 
 and unexpected assistance he would have been disarmed and 
 overpowered before Kelita could have given him support. 
 
 It was from the tall and stalwart Shobek that the much 
 needed succor came. All this time he had been guarding the 
 rope on the outer side of the prison wall, he had with ready wit 
 taken in about all that had been happening and had realized 
 that the only hope lay in himself the moment he heard Zatthu 
 _ refuse to surrender. 
 
 He must act and for action he was ready. With his long 
 stout pole he had pried up paving stones and piled them so 
 high that by standing on the top of the heap he could just 
 ‘place his hands on the top of the high brick wall. Onto the 
 wall he pulled himself up when he heard Zatthu defy the de- 
 curion, and his pole he drew up after him. To avoid being 
 noticed he had mounted the wall away from the scene of con- 
 tention. He was therefore unheard and unobserved as he 
 lowered his pole and dropped down himself into the enclosure. 
 
 Stealing forward a few paces, he found himself in the rear 
 of the six Romans just as they were beginning their onset 
 upon Zatthu. Like a flash Shobek dashed after them with his 
 pole for a weapon. And a deadly weapon it was. With a 
 
48 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 mighty side swing he brought it crashing upon the backs of 
 two of the soldiers and they fell to the ground disabled — 
 dead perhaps, but that was to be discovered later. Two of 
 the others, startled by this sudden assault in their rear, 
 turned to face this death-dealing intruder. With swords 
 ready to thrust and slay they rushed at him, but only to their 
 undoing. To avoid close quarters Shobek had .darted back 
 the moment they turned. As they came at him he swung 
 again with his terrible weapon and one of the two fell head- 
 long with his side crushed in and but a few moments of life 
 before him. In falling he hit his comrade, who staggered, 
 recovered himself and then dropped dead as the pole de- 
 scended with terrific force upon his unprotected head. For 
 so sudden and so urgent had been the call for help that the 
 decurion and his men had rushed out of the prison, sword in 
 hand, but without helmet, shield, or breastplate. That they 
 could possibly need armor they had not dreamed. 
 
 Darting forward to dispose of the rest of the Romans, 
 Shobek found that his aid was no longer required. Kelita 
 had no sooner disabled the decurion than he sprang to the 
 assistance of Zatthu, now sorely pressed by the two soldiers 
 who had led the attack upon him. Sorely pressed indeed he ~ 
 was, for his assailants realized that in some strange way 
 things were going against them and they closed in, not to 
 capture but to kill. Two against one, and Zatthu was a good 
 but not a highly skilled swordsman. The end would have 
 come quickly had not Kelita thrust his knife home into each 
 of them from behind — but into the second only after he had 
 given Zatthu a serious wound in the side. 
 
 “You came in the nick of time, Shobek,” said Kelita as 
 their tall deliverer loomed up in the gloom. “Had you arrived 
 a few moments later you would have found your two country- 
 men dead with some Roman corpses around them to show 
 that they had met a brave man’s end, and then you could have 
 done nothing but avenge them.” 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 49 
 
 “Hardly that, I fear, if I had had to stand alone against 
 half a dozen Roman soldiers. And perhaps it would not have 
 been worth while. I am no lover of bloodshed. But this is no 
 time for speech. Your friend here is hurt. I must see what 
 I can do for him.” 
 
 So saying he gave his whole attention to Zatthu who was 
 indeed in a sorry plight. For a moment Kelita stood by to 
 assist him, but seeing that his hand was deft he turned away 
 to make sure that none of the Romans could continue the 
 struggle. 
 
 He found they were all too utterly disabled to show fight ; 
 but the first two whom Shobek had laid low were writhing in 
 pain and these he instantly dispatched. All of the others 
 were dead or dying but the decurion, who, desperately but 
 perhaps not fatally wounded, begged for mercy. 
 
 “You shall have the mercy you would have given,” replied 
 Kelita; and he gave him such a savage thrust that the man 
 gave one groan and expired. 
 
 “That was a foul deed,” exclaimed Zatthu, who, suffering 
 though he was, had heard and heeded the piteous moan. 
 
 “SA necessary one,” replied Kelita. ‘The man might have 
 summoned strength enough to shout for help, and who knows 
 how many soldiers there may be still asleep inside the prison? 
 But now to work and instantly. Is your wound bleeding?” 
 
 “Only a little. This good friend of yours and mine has 
 staunched it.” 
 
 “We must get you over the wall and it will hurt you. Can 
 you bear it?” 
 
 “Of course. Are we not serving Jehovah?” 
 
 “True. I should not have doubted. But, alas! I do not 
 see how the deed is to be done.” 
 
 “IT do,” said Shobek. “Give me your knife.” 
 
 With this he cut his own tunic into broad strips and three 
 of these he knotted loosely about Zatthu, one just below the 
 armpits, one about the waist and one just a little further 
 
50 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 down. Under these three bandages he passed the cord by 
 means of which Kelita had mounted to the prison window, 
 took the two ends in his teeth and mounted the wall by the 
 rope placed for that very purpose to ensure Zatthu’s escape. 
 Then he carefully pulled up Zatthu, while Kelita assisted 
 from below and kept the wounded man from swaying against 
 the wall. 
 
 Zatthu bore the excruciating pain without murmuring, but 
 he could not help giving a sigh of relief when Shobek finally 
 brought him to the top and laid him upon the wall. 
 
 ‘““Now Kelita,” said the resourceful youth in a low, clear 
 voice, “throw the pole over the wall, for we may yet want it, 
 and climb up yourself.” 
 
 Quickly the hunchback made the ascent, and, still directed 
 by Shobek, let himself down on the other side. This accom- 
 plished, Shobek lowered Zatthu as carefully as he had drawn 
 him up and Kelita received him in his arms and laid him 
 gently down at the foot of the wall. 
 
 Shobek then dropped lightly down, bent compassionately 
 over Zatthu and regretted that there was yet more suffering 
 before him. 
 
 “IT am going to take you up in my arms and carry you,” 
 he said. “That is the only way and I will make it as easy 
 for you as I possibly can.” 
 
 “T do not question that,” said Zatthu, “but where are you 
 going to take me?” 
 
 “To my father’s, of course.” 
 
 “No,” said Kelita, “‘to the house of my friend Binni the 
 tailor. He will gladly shelter Zatthu and his wound will keep 
 him here in the city for some time. Meanwhile those cursed 
 Romans, who are always keen in tracking those whom they 
 wish to punish, will ransack the city to find Zatthu and his de- 
 liverers. You with your big, tall body will at once be under 
 suspicion; but they would never think of little stooping Binni 
 as a man who helped to do nine Romans to death.” 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 51 
 
 “Perhaps you are right,” said Shobek after thinking a 
 moment. ‘But are you sure Binni will want to take in and 
 hide a man the Romans are hunting?” 
 
 “T am sure of him as I should be of you.” 
 
 “Very well, then. To Binni’s we will go. I will lead the 
 way; do you follow with the rope and pole. We must leave 
 no clues behind us.” 
 
 So saying Shobek lifted Zatthu in his arms and with care- 
 ful steps started for the tailor’s house, with Kelita close 
 behind him. 
 
52 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IX 
 
 Nearly two months later three men were resting on the 
 summit of Mount Carmel close by a path that crossed the 
 range and connected Samaria with Galilee. It was the noon 
 hour. The sun’s rays were piercing, for even in the month of 
 Zif, which corresponds to May of the Roman calendar, it is 
 warm at mid-day in Palestine. But a refreshing breeze blew 
 in from the not distant Mediterranean; the trees that grew 
 abundantly on Carmel offered shady and inviting spots. Be- 
 neath the protecting foliage of an ancient fir tree the three 
 wayfarers lay and talked, to all appearances free from care 
 and pressing duties. | 
 
 Care-free for the moment they were, yet they had escaped 
 from dangers and alarms, and a task the most resolute might 
 shrink from was before them. For these were the very three 
 whom we last saw fighting for their lives against desperate 
 odds; and Zatthu whom the other two follow devotedly is 
 still on fire to accomplish his great purpose. But what they 
 have been through and what they see before them will appear 
 from their own conversation. 
 
 “Has your wound given you no trouble Zatthu?” inquired 
 Kelita. 
 
 “None whatever. It is entirely healed.” 
 
 “fam much relieved. I feared the rapid pace in the warm 
 sun would irritate it. Ah, that was a deep stab. Many men 
 would have died from it.” 
 
 “Tt was not to be. My time had not come. Jehovah has 
 work for me.” 
 
 “Fam sure He has. It was He that kept them from find- 
 ing you when they searched. That was a cunning place of 
 hiding Binni contrived. Yet they came so often I thought 
 they would discover it.” 
 
 “T don’t think,” said Shobek, “their search was very thor- 
 
PART I— ZATTHU 53 
 
 ough or that they put any heart into it. As a matter of 
 course they hunted through every house in Cesarea that was 
 occupied by one of our people. But they never doubted that 
 you and those who rescued ave got out of the city the same 
 night you escaped from prison.” 
 
 “Ah, how puzzled they must have been!” exclaimed Kelita 
 with a chuckle. ‘Nine Roman legionaries as dead as a cast- 
 off snake skin, and not a trace of those who had so insulted 
 mighty Rome!” 
 
 ‘There was only one way of explaining it,” said Shobek. 
 “They thought a band came down from the mountains, over- 
 powered and killed the soldiers and went back the way they 
 came. This, you know, was the story I heard about the 
 streets. I got just that from soldiers I talked with now 
 and then.” 
 
 “Short work those soldiers would have made of you,” said 
 Kelita, “had they known the hand you had in the business. 
 It makes me laugh to think how they were looking everywhere 
 for the enemy who had done such unheard-of mischief; and 
 there you were going about among them all the time.” 
 
 “And they would be more anxious than ever to find you,” 
 remarked Zatthu, “if they discovered that it was you who 
 got us out of the city. I did not see how it was going to be 
 done, the gates were so carefully guarded. But you managed 
 it easily enough.” 
 
 “A lucky thing it was that Meshullam was allowed to build 
 his house so near the wall,” said Kelita. “It was a scant 
 eight feet across, and that trusty pole of yours spanned the 
 space completely after you had spliced that long piece of 
 stout oak onto it. I did fear it would give way though when 
 you pulled yourself across, hand by hand, with your long 
 legs dangling down. Even my weight made it bend quite a 
 little.” . 
 
 ‘And when you were on the wall,” said Zatthu, “you pulled 
 me up so easily! I really think I could have gone across as 
 
 99 
 
54. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 you and Kelita did, but you were afraid the strain might open 
 my wound; so I let you haul me up, as I knew your strength 
 was quite equal to it.” 
 
 “What is strength of body?” said Shobek modestly. “It 
 is your mind that will make the cause succeed.” 
 
 “Tf it really does succeed,’? commented Kelita somewhat 
 dejectedly. “But what can you do now, Zatthu? You can- 
 not go back to Jerusalem. You would be recognized and put 
 to death. And how can you accomplish anything in Galilee?” 
 
 “Why should I not do everything my heart desires in 
 Galilee?” 
 
 “It is so far from Jerusalem, so far from our Temple. It 
 would seem as if any great movement for our people must 
 start from Jerusalem.” 
 
 Zatthu did not reply at once. His wound and his long 
 confinement had made his face look drawn and pale. The — 
 tinge of melancholy that it always showed was deepened; at 
 first glance he might have seemed dispirited. Yet his eyes 
 had lost none of their fire, and no one that gazed into them 
 could doubt that he was full of energy and hope. When he 
 had gathered his thoughts and spoke, it was with the same 
 glow of feeling and the same deep moving voice that had so 
 often given his words a thrilling power. 
 
 “It was here on Carmel,” he said, “that Elijah made the 
 fire come down from heaven and consume the burnt-sacrifice. 
 Where the faithful servant of Jehovah is, there will Jehovah 
 be. If my cause is righteous, it will prosper, in Galilee as 
 well as in Jerusalem. You are faint-hearted, Kelita, and it is_ 
 faintness of heart that brings Jehovah’s wrath. When you 
 thrust a Roman through, as your unhallowed creed bids you, 
 you thrust with all your might. Can you not have the same 
 faith in Jehovah that you have in your own right arm? He 
 will guide me and be my stay. If we trust in Him all will be 
 well. Prudence must not indeed be thrown to the winds. 
 
 Ehijah hid from Ahab at the brook Cherith. It would be folly 
 
PART I— ZATTHU 55 
 
 for me to go to Jerusalem to be seized and put to death. But 
 Jehovah will be with me as I go about in Galilee and will put 
 fire into my words. And I shall touch the hearts of the people 
 there. Do not doubt it. The men of Galilee have more than 
 once risen against Rome. They will do so again, and their 
 rising this time will be like the flood that fills the valley or 
 the wind that levels the grain.” 
 
 “Yes,” cried Shobek, “it will be even so. When the men 
 of Galilee hear you, they will cry as one man to be led against 
 the Roman legions.” 
 
 Silence followed for a time. Zatthu seemed lost in revery. 
 His two companions did not venture to intrude upon his 
 thought, but gazed upon the plain below them and on to 
 Caesarea, whose turrets, distant though they were, gleamed 
 in the unclouded sunlight. On the edge of the blue Mediter- 
 ranean, the city was like a jewel of amber on the border of a 
 deep blue robe. 
 
 “It makes me laugh,” said Shobek softly, “‘to think how 
 furious Pilate would be if he knew we were sitting safely here 
 and looking down on his city. I almost feel sorry for him, 
 he would be so beside himself with rage.” 
 
 “Don’t feel sorry for a Roman, Shobek,” said Kelita in the 
 same low voice. ‘He wouldn’t be sorry for you if he got hold 
 of you and found out what you had done. He’d crucify you 
 and laugh at your misery.” 
 
 “I suppose he would, though I don’t understand how any 
 one can take pleasure in seeing another suffer. Did you ever 
 see a man crucified, Kelita?”’ 
 
 “Once. A poor fellow who had taken to the mountains to 
 rob and murder, and got caught.” 
 
 “Did he suffer much?” 
 
 “Of course; but he wouldn’t show it. He grinned horribly, 
 and cursed the Romans till he made them angry. Then he 
 spat at them and cursed harder than ever.” 
 
 ‘No wonder. If hate could do anything, the Romans 
 
56 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 would melt before us as the sand is washed by the waves. But 
 I don’t feel any hatred for them. They are men like our- 
 selves. Why should we hate them?” 
 
 “Because they are Jehovah’s enemies.” 
 
 “Do you think Jehovah hates them?” 
 
 “Of course He does. Don’t they worship graven images?” 
 
 “They don’t know any better.” 
 
 “That doesn’t make any difference. I suppose the Canaan- 
 ites and all the tribes that worshipped Baal did not know 
 any better, but Jehovah wanted them killed to a man just 
 the same.” | 
 
 “Tt’s all very strange to me. When we rise, I’ll kill all the 
 Romans I can, but I shall feel sorry for them when I do it.” 
 
 “Did you feel sorry for the gnats you killed while we were 
 crossing the plain this morning?” 
 
 “Not a bit, not a bit! How can one feel sorry for an 
 insect? I really do pity a snake though when I kill it and see 
 it squirm. The poor thing doesn’t like to give up its life any 
 more than I should like to give up mine.” 
 
 “You were never cut out to be a soldier, Shobek.” 
 
 “You are wrong, Kelita,” said Zatthu, who for some mo- 
 ments had been following the conversation. ‘‘Shobek with his 
 kind heart makes me think of David who twice spared Saul, 
 but was the only man in all Israel who dared face the giant, 
 Goliath.” 
 
 Kelita was too discomfited by the illustration to be able to 
 frame a reply. So Zatthu went on and for a long time held 
 the attention of his two followers while he unfolded the mean- 
 ing of the scriptures as he understood them. Jehovah, he 
 felt sure, hated only evil doers; and it was them only that 
 He wished to see destroyed root and branch. 
 
 “Very well then,” said Kelita doggedly when he had fin- 
 ished, “‘we will destroy these Romans root and branch because 
 they are evil doers. Make the people hate these enemies of 
 Jehovah who have their feet on our necks, or they won’t rise.” 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 57 
 
 “They will rise because Jehovah calls them,” answered 
 Zatthu with kindling eye. ‘They will rise as they rose of old 
 when they heard the trumpet of Gideon, and nothing shall 
 withstand their might. But the sun is lower and the heat less 
 fierce. Let us make our way down into Galilee and find shelter 
 somewhere for the night. Perhaps we may fall in with a 
 band of robbers and share what they have. It is the injus- — 
 tice and the cruelty of Rome that have made many of these 
 men lawless and desperate. I expect to make friends with 
 them and bring them under our banner when the time comes. 
 David called such about him. Why should not I? 
 
 “But follow me down the pathway. I would best go first. 
 The pace that Shobek would set might be a little too fast for 
 a man who was wounded nearly to death not long ago.” 
 
58 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 xX 
 
 Mount Carmel being less than two thousand feet high they 
 were not long in reaching the road that skirted its base. 
 Taking it, they turned to the right and went on in a south- 
 easterly direction. They were sure that they would come in 
 time to a village or to some stray hamlet where they could 
 find a rude but hearty hospitality. 
 
 The Carmel range forms for a considerable distance the 
 boundary between Samaria and Galilee. As it stretches on 
 however from the coast to the southeast, its elevation falls 
 away in places and its outlines are less bold. Its summit is 
 not a continuous ridge. Here and there it becomes a series 
 of hills with deep clefts or ravines between. But in ancient 
 times it was everywhere thickly wooded. Hiding places in- 
 numerable could the hunted find on its well screened sides. 
 
 The road that our travelers pursued was now straight, 
 and now winding as it rounded some projecting spur of the 
 range. It was just as they were approaching one of these 
 spurs and a clear view of the road before them was cut off, 
 that they heard the unmistakable sounds of strife. What the 
 trouble was they could not tell; but loud cries and the clash 
 of steel told them that they were nearing a fray of some 
 description. ! 
 
 All of them were armed. It would have been folly to escape 
 from a hostile stronghold without the means of self-defence. 
 Kelita had the long knife he used so effectively.. Zatthu and 
 Shobek had each gained possession of a Roman broadsword. 
 With these weapons drawn they rushed forward, ready to 
 take part in what seemed to be a fiercely contested struggle. 
 
 On the run they made the bend in the road. Then they 
 stood still a moment to take in the meaning of the conflict 
 that was going on before them. Even the warrior, who rushes 
 into battle as instinctively as the dog pursues the hare, needs 
 
PART 1— ZATTHO 59 
 
 a reason for taking sides in a fray. But it needed only a 
 glance to show the character of this encounter. In the road 
 stood three well-laden camels. A few men, one of whom was 
 -undoubtedly their owner, were guarding them and their bur- 
 dens from a band of highwaymen. 
 
 The conflict was spirited. There were but six of the de- 
 fenders while their opponents were twice that number. But 
 half of them had nothing but stout cudgels, while those who 
 were resisting them had shields and well-tempered swords. 
 Well-tempered ‘they certainly seemed to be, for in the onset 
 which the robbers had made two of their number had been 
 badly hurt and were crawling away from the road. This 
 taste of success called forth a cheer from the defenders. 
 Their assailants answered with a cry of rage and attacked 
 more vigorously than ever. Side by side in a circle stood the 
 six. At them again and again the highwaymen rushed and 
 incessant was the shower of blows from sword and cudgel 
 upon the rigid row of shields. Under the heavy and repeated 
 tramping the dust rose in clouds and enveloped the com- 
 batants. 
 
 Ready as Zatthu and his two friends had been to render 
 help where help was surely needed, they had with one accord 
 stood still and watched when they saw what was going on. 
 The contestants seemed evenly matched. What need to inter- 
 fere? True, the smaller party was defending property 
 against outlaws. Justice was on their side. But with these 
 outlaws Zatthu, as has been shown, had sympathy. His com- 
 rades shared his feeling. Hence, as the outlaws seemed to be 
 getting worsted in the fray, why make the defence stronger? 
 Besides, the owner of the camels and their burdens might be 
 a Roman. 
 
 The outlaws really did appear to be getting worsted. In 
 their second furious onslaught, two more of them were dis- 
 abled and obliged to withdraw from the fight. To be sure 
 one of the defenders was wounded; but his comrades took 
 
60 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 him in the centre of their circle and still presented an un- 
 broken front to their assailants. They were now five against 
 eight. The victory was so far with them. 
 
 This the outlaws seemed to realize. They drew off a little 
 way and their leader began to parley. He declared himself 
 ready to give up the battle if one of the three camels was 
 abandoned to him. This proposition being refused, he argued 
 insistently in favor of it, threatening to keep up the fight till . 
 darkness came, unless these terms were accepted. 
 
 But the parley was only a ruse, as was plain to the trio who 
 stood watching. While the leader of the outlaws was talking, 
 one of his men, who was nearly as large as Shobek in stature, 
 had procured from the woods which hemmed the road a fallen 
 log some ten feet long and nearly half a foot in thickness. 
 When he appeared with this upon his shoulder, the outlaw 
 captain cried, 
 
 “At them again, comrades. As they won’t let us have one 
 camel, we’ll take them all.” 
 
 With five of his band he rushed again against the small 
 circle that defied him. The other two were to manipulate the 
 log, the impact of which would have well nigh annihilated the 
 defence. For the scheme was a crafty one. While the six 
 outlaws kept their opponents busy and shut off their view, 
 the other two were to poise the log on their shoulders and 
 charge with it at full speed. At just the right moment the 
 assailants would step aside and two or three of the defenders 
 would have gone down in a heap. 
 
 But Zatthu saw through the scheme the moment the log 
 was brought out of the woods and he determined instantly 
 to baffle it. To see gallant men who were only guarding 
 their own rights borne down by sheer brutality he could 
 not endure. 
 
 ““Shobek,” he said, “you see what those knaves are going 
 to do with that log. Run quick and stop them. You help 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 61. 
 
 him, Kelita. I will go and parley with the captain of these 
 fellows and convince him he had better give up the fight. 
 
 With Kelita at his heels, Shobek hastened to do Zatthu’s 
 bidding. There was joy in his heart as he did so. He too 
 was moved to wrath when he saw the trick the outlaws meant 
 to play and he was only too glad to discomfit them. 
 
 But he acted prudently and warily. He had no thought of 
 confronting the two ruffians with the log and opposing his 
 brute strength to theirs. He wanted the satisfaction of spoil- 
 ing their plan just as it was on the eve of success. Wholly 
 absorbed by the part they were to play, the two outlaws did 
 not notice him or his movements. Balancing the log upon 
 their shoulders, they waited till the defending party was too 
 busily engaged to observe them and then they began to run 
 forward as fast as their heavy burden would allow. It was 
 at this moment that Shobek gave them a very unpleasant 
 surprise. Darting up from behind he vigorously shoved the 
 log they were by no means easily carrying. Disaster followed 
 quick and sure. The two outlaws pitched headlong and only 
 just succeeded in keeping their unwieldy load from falling on 
 top of them. In an instant Shobek seized the man of smaller 
 stature, who was however by no means a man of slight build, 
 placed him alongside of the sturdier bandit, and, with one 
 hand on the neck of each pinioned them both to the ground. 
 That viselike grip could not be shaken off. Kelita had all the 
 time been standing by ready to give help as needed. But there 
 was no moment when he had even to lift a finger to aid his 
 stalwart ally. 
 
 It was at this stage that Zatthu interfered. The outlaws 
 had made no impression on their opponents, but instead had 
 suffered further loss; for another of their number had fallen 
 badly wounded. And seeing the two detailed to assault with 
 the log lying apparently helpless, they stood discomfited and 
 yet not quite willing to relinquish an effort that had promised 
 so rich a reward. 
 
62 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “You are beaten,” said Zatthu, drawing near to their 
 leader and addressing him. ‘And deservedly you are beaten, 
 for it was a foul trick that you were going to play. I hope 
 you are man enough to own that it was a knavish and dis- 
 honest kind of warfare you were going to wage and to feel 
 ashamed of it.” | 
 
 “Who are you and why are you meddling?” replied the 
 leader, turning sullenly to Zatthu. ‘“‘Keep your hands off! 
 It isn’t your affair.” | 
 
 “Tama Hebrew. Are you one?” 
 
 “T was so born. Sometimes I have cursed the day that I 
 was.” - 
 
 “Nay, do not curse but bless the day that made you one 
 of God’s chosen race. And use your sword against its ene- 
 mies, not against men who defend what is their own.” 
 
 ‘And starve the while? I’m not a fool. Go your ways 
 and let me go mine.” 
 
 “You had best go your ways now. You see it is useless to 
 continue the fight. We are eight sound men to your five, for 
 that stout friend of mine has two of your followers held so 
 fast that they can do no mischief. So, off into the hills 
 from which you came down. But I shall find you some time 
 and show you a better way to use your sword and a better 
 way to keep off hunger. What is your name?” 
 
 *“Barabbas.” 
 
 “And mine is Zatthu. Remember; you will hear from me 
 again.” 
 
 The baffled and angry outlaw saw that it would be folly to 
 prolong the struggle. He told his men to follow him and 
 started up the mountain side. At a signal from Zatthu, Sho- 
 bek released the two whom he had been holding down and who 
 looked at him wonderingly as they rose to their feet. The 
 larger one especially gazed hard at the youth who had so 
 easily discomfited him, as if he were astonished at meeting 
 a man more powerful than himself; for that iron clasp which 
 
PART I— ZATTHU 63 
 
 he was still feeling had given him a vast respect for Shobek’s 
 physical prowess. Then, after surveying their captor for a 
 moment, they hastened after their leader and the rest of the 
 band. 
 
 As Barabbas turned his face toward the mountain, the 
 man, who had been wounded and encircled by the other de- 
 fenders, with difficulty made his way toward Zatthu, sup- 
 ported on either side. 
 
 “By Hercules,” he said extending his hand, which Zatthu 
 hastened to clasp warmly, “that was a friendy deed. That 
 vile scheme of theirs would have wrought our utter downfall 
 but for your most timely interference. Yes,” he continued, 
 while he looked at Shobek who now joined them, “I may well 
 say ‘By Hercules’; for this .strong-limbed young man brings 
 to mind the hero who wrestled with Antus.” 
 
 “You are a Side I presume,” said Zatthu, “from the 
 speech you use.’ 
 
 “Yes, I was born in the city that was great under Pericles 
 long before Rome laid her strong hand on the nations. But 
 for seven years I have lived in this alien land, and during the 
 last three of them my home has been in Capernaum, and long 
 will be if all goes well.” 
 
 “In Capernaum. Then you still have far to. go and you 
 seem to be badly hurt. You must let my companions and 
 myself go with you and give you whatever help you may 
 need.” 
 
 “Your aid will be most grateful. My wound is not dan- 
 gerous, I think, but it is severe. That villain of a Barabbas 
 got through my guard by a clever feint and his sword pierced 
 my side. I shall have to be carried the rest of the way.” 
 
 “My friend Kelita here knows how to heal wounds as well 
 as to give them. Let him attend to yours.” | 
 
 “IT will gladly submit to his care. My servant Charmides 
 has a rough knowledge of surgery; but you who have shown 
 your good will so effectively will, I am sure, not do anything 
 
64 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 amiss in dealing with this provoking injury. I am an old 
 hand with the sword and it exasperates me to think I let that. 
 villain get the better of me.” 
 
 Kelita really had a good knowledge of medicine and sur- 
 gery; and while he was dressing the wound, which though 
 serious was not alarming, the Greek continued to converse 
 with Zatthu. He was faint and in pain, but he bore his suffer- 
 ing with fortitude. 
 
 “Whither are you and.your companions bound?” he asked. 
 
 “To no one place. It will not put us out to go with you as 
 long as you may need us.” 
 
 “Fortunate men, to be able to go in any direction you 
 please! I do not seem to remember the time when I could 
 start out without any goal to reach. I am a trader, you see; 
 and the man of trade always has an end to pursue.” 
 
 “I suppose you are the owner of these camels and their 
 burden.” 
 
 “Yes. I amon my way from Ptolemais where a ship from 
 Tyre brought me a valuable lot of merchandise — silks from 
 the far east; rugs that would tempt the wealthy to break the 
 Mosaic commandment against covetousness; veils daintily 
 woven; and fabrics colored with all the shades of the rich 
 Tyrian dye. It is that precious stuff that the camels are 
 bearing and that that crew of robbers wanted to get away 
 from me. But with your assistance I am now sure I shall 
 bring my goods home to Capernaum.” 
 
 “But why do you take such a roundabout way? The 
 direct road from Ptolemais to Capernaum would have car- 
 ried you through Cana, much further north.” 
 
 “True; but it is not all of these stuffs that I wish to carry 
 so far. There are small traders in Jenin and other villages 
 I am to pass through who are customers of mine and who 
 will make these packs grow lighter before I reach my home. 
 But your friend, whose touch I at once perceived to be skilful, 
 has finished his task; and my servants have got a stretcher 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 65 
 
 ready for me, I see. So we will now push on. We shall have 
 to go very slowly, but I hope we may reach the village of 
 Megiddo tonight as I had planned. But before we start shall 
 we not exchange names? Your own I know, for I heard you 
 declare it to the robber chief. But I do not know that of 
 EIS, 7 77 
 
 “This friend of mine, whose stature is short but whose arms 
 are powerful enough to make his dagger a very deadly wea- 
 pon, is named Kelita. My tall and stalwart follower is 
 Shobek.” 
 
 “And I am Timon Aristarchus. The Roman poet Vergil, 
 whom I greatly admire, says the Greeks are not to be trusted 
 even when bearing gifts; but you will find we are only too 
 glad to recognize faithful service. Let us proceed.” 
 
66 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XI 
 
 So frequently did the route to Capernaum carry Aris- 
 tarchus and his caravan through hilly country, where rob- 
 bers might possibly be encountered, that he was not willing 
 to part with his three efficient helpers till he reached his 
 own city. 
 
 Zatthu, from whom the other two readily took directions, 
 was quite willing to accommodate him. He liked the genial 
 friendly Greek and would have been glad to get better 
 acquainted with him as they traveled together. But this the 
 wound of Aristarchus made impossible. Even the very slow 
 pace adopted made it very painful. Only a man of rare 
 strength of will would have been willing to proceed before it 
 was healed. But Zatthu did find opportunity to tell Aris- 
 ' tarchus privately that he was a fugitive from Roman justice. 
 He thought this only honorable. What exigencies might 
 arise, what persons they might meet while journeying to- 
 gether, no one could say. Roman soldiers might encounter 
 them and question them sharply. Zatthu and his two com- 
 rades might suddenly have to flee for safety to the mountains. 
 
 Aristarchus was not in the least perturbed by this in- 
 telligence. 
 
 “Tell me the whole story,” he said, summoning his strength 
 and steeling himself against weariness and pain. 
 
 Very briefly Zatthu gave an account of his arrest in Jeru- 
 salem for seditious utterances and of his escape from the 
 prison at Cesarea. 
 
 “You did well,” said Aristarchus when he had finished. 
 “The Greeks fought for freedom. Why should not the Jews? 
 I am no friend of the Romans, though I have friends among 
 them. I only wish you might succeed, but I fear your cause 
 is hopeless. No nation in all the world can stand against 
 Rome. But I cannot talk more. I am too tired.” 
 
PART I—ZATTHU 67 
 
 Before they enteyed Capernaum Aristarchus summoned 
 Zatthu to the litter on which he was borne. 
 
 “I owe you and your friends not my property only, but 
 my life,” he said. ‘I wish to make full recognition of this, 
 yet I cannot offer you money. A man who has such a cause 
 at heart as you have does not accept a money reward for 
 saving life. How about your friends?” 
 
 “T will ask them; yet I know their answer would be the 
 same as mine. We do not draw our swords for pay. ‘That 
 would be the act of hirelings.” 
 
 “But I must do something to show you how grateful I am. 
 You must all three come to my house and eat of my salt. 
 Till you have done so, I shall feel that my debt is too heavy 
 to be borne.” 
 
 “But I am an outlaw. The same is really true of my com- 
 rades. You must not receive us under your roof. You would 
 get yourself into trouble.” 
 
 ‘“‘No one in Capernaum knows you. Your own people 
 would not in any case betray you, and while you are my 
 guests you would not be stirring up sedition so as to make it 
 manifest that I was harboring an enemy of Rome. So, come 
 for a day or two at any rate. You need have no fear what- 
 ever on my account. The Roman centurion in command at 
 Capernaum is a staunch friend of mine.” 
 
 “He would be less staunch, I fear, if he knew whom you 
 were urging to take shelter under your roof.” 
 
 “Not a whit. His heart is as big as the sea. If he found 
 you, he would arrest you; but he would have naught against 
 me for taking you in, for I am no Roman. He would not 
 think less of you for being a true patriot.” 
 
 “Yet he would send me back to Pilate to be put to death?” 
 
 “Yes, he would do that. As a Roman officer he could do 
 no less.” ; 
 
 ‘Would that he were not a Roman. I should like such a 
 man for a friend. But as he is what you say, I will partake 
 
68 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 of your hospitality for a brief space. For my two friends I 
 cannot speak; but I will go and ascertain their wishes.” 
 
 In a few moments Zatthu brought back from Kelita and 
 Shobek a courteous but firm refusal. Kelita had a cousin in 
 Capernaum by the name of Zichri, a dealer in shawls and 
 other garments made of camel’s hair, with whom he could find 
 lodging; and Shobek could also be sure of a hearty recep- 
 tion. The hunchback was too intensely and narrowly Jewish 
 to be willing to be the guest of an alien. And how Zatthu 
 could do this, he was not able to understand. But fanatical 
 in his devotion to his country, Zatthu was no mere narrow- 
 minded zealot. He had not liked the genial Aristarchus, but 
 he thought he might find him useful. Roman rule did not 
 command his admiration. Might he not help to overthrow 
 it and place that of Judea in its stead? And what if he was 
 a Greek? He might still be a friend and a loyal one. Did not 
 Hiram have the most amicable relations with great King 
 Solomon? 
 
Parr II 
 THE DAWNING LIGHT 
 
Teen 
 
 Rae 
 See teny x 
 
 i 
 iy 
 
 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 71 
 
 I 
 
 Capernaum was a thriving city in the days when Pontius 
 Pilate ruled Judea. It stood at the northern end of the Lake 
 of Galilee and stretched for a considerable distance along its 
 shore. In it were found all the types of the most vigorous 
 Jewish activity. Here were the cultured Pharisee and the 
 learned scribe. Here were the merchant, the petty trader, 
 the maker and repairer of small articles of daily use, the 
 artisan and the fisherman. ‘The poor and the prosperous 
 were alike found here; together they worshipped in the syna- 
 gogue. On the lake below floated the craft of the men of 
 substance and of the toilers for daily bread; and when the 
 sudden squall brought danger, it was the rich as well as the 
 poor who watched from the city’s edge the boats that labored 
 with the white-capped waves. 
 
 A populous and thriving city and a thoroughly oriental 
 one. Silently and timidly veiled women, not so numerous but 
 that the eye was arrested by sight of one, walked through the 
 narrow streets. The vendor of small wares sang the praises 
 of his goods with the liveliness of the rich eastern fancy as 
 he traversed the thoroughfares with head erect and unmis- 
 takable pride in his calling. In the booth where finery was 
 on sale the proprietor noted keenly every passer-by and was 
 as quick to see the smallest display in interest as is the sea- 
 gull to detect the flash of fins near the surface of the water. 
 A master psychologist he, who knows how to take advantage 
 of even the most hidden yearning for acquisition. To stop 
 and inquire the price of any article is almost fatal. And 
 equally discerning and intuitive is his commercial brother who 
 presides at a stall in the fish market. The fish are brought 
 up daily from the lake on purpose to be sold; he is himself 
 an unworthy descendant of father Jacob if he cannot sell 
 them. Yet the buyer is a descendant of father Jacob too, 
 
12 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 and what a rare contest of wits there is when the two come 
 together! A lively place indeed the fish market becomes when 
 the catch has been plentiful, purchasers are numerous and 
 trade is brisk. Not a fish sold without ample discussion of 
 its weight and worth; yet the fishes all make their way into 
 the homes of Capernaum and the surrounding country. 
 
 And if less lively, not less interesting is the scene that daily 
 takes place in some one of the more open spaces of the city 
 when the story-teller, squatting on the ground with his legs 
 crossed beneath him, holds forth to the group that is gathered 
 by his fluent speech. Here is the man who has brought in his 
 produce from the country on his donkey and who embraces 
 this opportunity to carry away from the city something be- 
 sides a small addition to his scanty hoard of silver. Here is 
 the trader whose thirst for an intellectual treat has made 
 him leave his booth for a few moments in charge of his alert 
 and well-trained son. Pharisee and scribe, interested though 
 patronizing and disdainful, are to be seen on the outskirts of 
 the listening throng. And here are Syrians, Greeks, and 
 other aliens, whom the growing and thriving city has drawn 
 within its pale. Clad in both gay and sombre colored gar- 
 ments the listeners stand and drink in the fanciful tale. For 
 full of fancy it is sure to be. If it is a love story, it has as 
 many tropes and metaphors as the Song of Solomon. [If it 
 recites the prowess of heroes like the great Maccabees, it 
 makes them beings too great and glorious for mortal guise. 
 If it caters to the mind’s eternal craving for mystery and 
 magic, it constructs a supernal land of marvel, incantation 
 and romance. Whatever the story is, it is told with the art 
 of the born narrator, and it holds the audience with its spell. 
 Gain, toil, petty grievances and the world’s commotions are 
 all forgotten. The dreaming Asiatic has been wafted into 
 the land of dreams. He is in bliss. 
 
 Yes, oriental, thoroughly oriental is the atmosphere of 
 Capernaum. And yet it is thoroughly a Jewish city. Its 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 73 
 
 people, in spite of the foreign element, is essentially a Jewish 
 people, filled with an over-weening pride in the splendor of 
 their history. The years of dissension, of exile, of subjec- 
 tion to the passing Eastern dynasties, were not remembered. 
 All those who had Hebrew blood in them gloried in the Hebrew 
 name, the Hebrew tradition. They despised the tetrarch 
 Herod Antipas; they loathed the Roman power that was 
 behind him. Their hearts were as true to Jerusalem as were 
 those of the exiles through their long captivity at Babylon. 
 They would fain see it as great once more as it was under 
 Solomon. If need be they would fight for it. Orientals they 
 were, but not like the tame-spirited Persians who would kiss 
 the rod that smote them. Alert, defiant, watchful, they were 
 waiting for the opportunity to rise. The wrongs they suf- 
 fered were ever on their minds. In low voices they spoke of. 
 them when they met upon the streets. In their homes they 
 vented their hatred for the rule that vexed their souls. As 
 they wended their way from the synagogue on the Sabbath 
 or after week-day gatherings, they looked about them to see 
 if a Roman was near; and if the detested legionary was no- 
 where in sight, they reviled the imperial city and its minion, 
 the sensual Herod. 
 
 Such was the city into which Zatthu was now to enter. A 
 promising field it would seem for sowing the seeds of rebellion. 
 What a bounteous harvest might be reaped from them! But 
 Zatthu did not know that before his coming seeds were sown 
 that would ripen into a diviner harvest. 
 
74 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 II 
 
 Aristarchus’ house was situated at the eastern end of 
 Capernaum. Consequently, as he and his caravan ap- 
 proached from the west, they had to skirt or traverse the 
 whole city to reach their destination. To avoid the gaze of 
 the curious they skirted it. True, Aristarchus mingled freely 
 with its Jewish citizens. That three Jews were walking 
 among its armed retainers would have seemed in no way ex- 
 traordinary. But Shobek’s tall figure would have drawn 
 attention. Kelita, through the very contrast, might have 
 been critically noted. Naturally then Zatthu himself would 
 have invited close inspection. And if his figure was not im- 
 posing, his face and his spirited carriage, once seen, were not 
 easily forgotten. So it seemed best to give the gossip monger 
 no opportunity. 
 
 Even before they arrived at the border of the city Kelita 
 and Shobek detached themselves from the caravan. Not 
 without some heaviness of heart they said goodbye to Zatthu ; 
 but as they took their separate way and followed a street 
 that would lead them into the heart of the city, they looked 
 back smilingly and waved a message of comradeship and 
 staunch devotion. 
 
 The caravan continued its slow way, encountering few 
 wayfarers. It was the noon hour. The sun was hot. A hush 
 rested upon the city. Turning at last into the street that led 
 to the house of Aristarchus, men and beasts alike hastened 
 their steps in anticipation. The perspiring litter-bearers 
 were glad that their toil was soon to end; the camels gave 
 unmistakable signs of satisfaction. Though to Zatthu the 
 ground was unfamiliar, he did not need the assurance given 
 him by one of the serving men that they were at the end of 
 their journey. On the brow of the declivity that rimmed the 
 Lake of Galilee stood a house with pillars in its front; while 
 
_-PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 75 
 
 all around were the low, flat-roofed block-shaped houses that 
 were found all over Palestine. In his architecture as in his 
 mental habits Aristarchus was true to the land that gave 
 him birth. 
 
 “T want my wife and daughter to see you and thank you 
 for saving my life.” 
 
 These words the generous-minded Greek had uttered when 
 he had insisted on bestowing hospitality; and Zatthu accord- 
 ingly knew whom he was to find in the pillared mansion. But 
 the kindly wish had raised no pleasant anticipations in his 
 mind. ‘The wife and the daughter would appear. They 
 would say ‘I thank you’ with the shyness and formality that 
 enwrap the oriental woman like a garment impervious to the 
 sun and the frost of intercourse. Just this much they would 
 say and then bury themselves in seclusion. For intellectual 
 recreation, for companionship, for an occasional social hour 
 Zatthu would undoubtedly have to look to Aristarchus alone. 
 
 It was but.a passing glance that he had directed to the 
 house that was so soon to give him shelter. Even as he had 
 caught sight of it the Lake of Galilee, which had heretofore 
 been hidden by the city, revealed itself. This was not indeed 
 his first glimpse of it. He had looked upon it from the cities 
 of Tiberias and Magdala through which they had passed. 
 All that morning he had been viewing it from the roadway 
 which ran along its margin. But he had spent his life in 
 Jerusalem with stony hills all around him; and this expanse 
 of blue water was a fascinating sight. Blue the lake was 
 this morning as it lay beneath a cloudless sky, its surface 
 ruffled only by a faint and fitful breeze. ‘Here all the ships 
 in the world might ride,” he thought as he looked to the dis- 
 tant and dimly outlined southern shore. 
 
 But his thoughts were interrupted, for something of more 
 human interest came suddenly within his vision. Even while 
 gazing on the lake’s peaceful bosom and noting the many sails 
 it bore, he became aware that two white-robed figures were 
 
76 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 issuing from the house and coming toward the caravan. They 
 came with a hurried and yet measured step. They were 
 women, yet they were not veiled. 
 
 No, they were not veiled; yet as they drew near they were 
 seen to be women of rare beauty. Realizing who they must 
 be Zatthu looked fixedly at them for a moment, turned away 
 his gaze, and then found his eyes seeking them again. One 
 of them, whose hair was slightly tinged with grey and who 
 had a noble matronly air, was plainly the wife of Aristarchus. 
 The other — at this very moment the other, who was now just 
 oposite to him, turned her eyes and looked directly into his. 
 
 There are moments that memory treasures through mere 
 caprice; there are others it clings to simply because it can- 
 not let them go. They are as vivid as a lightning flash upon 
 a midnight sky. And to Zatthu such a moment had come. 
 He was not in love. Love is not the creation of an instant 
 any more than an autumn harvest. Each needs a maturing 
 sun. But the eyes into which he had looked were so dazzlingly 
 beautiful that a new consciousness had come into his life. 
 He had had no intimacy with any woman but his sister. Her 
 he loved and admired for the sympathy and encouragement 
 she gave him; but with other women he had naught to do. — 
 He did not seek them. He felt no impulse to seek them. His 
 business was with men — solely and ceaselessly with men. 
 Them he was. to reach and rouse; with them he was to do 
 great things that would be told through countless genera- 
 tions. But in an instant all was changed. One beautiful face 
 had made him feel what men have felt ever since they were 
 created, that woman is to be sought not shunned. This is 
 her birthright. It belongs to her as surely as the river owes 
 its waters to the sea. Zatthu had not known it before. He 
 knew it now. 
 
 Not that the full realization came to him then and there. 
 He had no time to think. The scene that followed was too 
 tender a one to be closely regarded, but none there could be 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT thi 
 
 unconscious of it- The older woman raised her hand com- 
 mandingly. The caravan stopped. Mother and daughter 
 hastened to the litter of Aristarchus. Not raising himself up, 
 for the effort would have been too severe, the wounded man 
 showed his joy by a smile that illumined his face. 
 
 “This pays for all the pain and weariness,” he cried, ex- 
 tending his hands eagerly. “I am as glad to reach home as 
 Odysseus was after his ten years’ wandering.” 
 
 His wife did not speak at once. Her feelings were plainly 
 too deep for words. She clasped his hands in her own and 
 looked at him searchingly as if to make sure that his true con- 
 dition had not been hid from her. But as she looked, anxiety 
 gave way to joy and satisfaction, and her face beamed with 
 love and pride. 
 
 ‘This is no time for words,” she said as she gently released 
 his hands. “You must give Thisoa a greeting too, and then 
 be borne into the house and rest, rest, rest.” 
 
 But the daughter was not as chary of words as her mother. 
 Zatthu, standing a little distance away, had been watching 
 the two. Delicacy had at first made him turn his eyes away; 
 but so open and so void of demonstration was the scene that 
 to observe it did not really seem an intrusion upon privacy. 
 The serving men stood around and noted what passed, almost 
 as if they were expected to do so. So Zatthu found himself 
 gazing, not indeed without deep respect and reverence, at this 
 pleasing and affectionate family group. 
 
 It was upon the daughter that his eyes chiefly rested. Her 
 mother was plainly a forceful character. She could act; she 
 could endure. But quietude, self-restraint, repose spoke in 
 all that she said and did. In the daughter there was an 
 abounding vitality. Her every attitude showed it. Her pres- 
 ence seemed fairly to glow with life. Through filial reverence 
 she had stood aside and let her mother be the first to approach 
 the litter; yet all the time it seemed as if the daughter should 
 have had the precedence. When her father greeted her, a 
 
78 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 lively reply seemed to come from her as naturally as the 
 arrow darts from the bow when the string is released. Aris- 
 tarchus indeed had scarce uttered a word before she inter- 
 rupted him and exclaimed as she shook a warning finger at 
 him, : 
 
 “Tam Asculapius. He was killed by lightning to be sure, 
 but he has come to life again and you are under his orders. 
 So lie still and don’t say a word.” 
 
 Aristarchus laughed-good-humoredly. It was plain that 
 he did not object to the dictatorial ways of this vivacious 
 daughter. But his feeling as a host prevented him from giv- 
 ing immediate compliance. 
 
 “Aisculapius,” he said, “thas a much greater claim to 
 obedience than Zeus who killed him; but I must perform the 
 duties of hospitality before I put myself under his orders.” 
 
 As he said this he motioned to Zatthu to approach and 
 immediately continued. 
 
 “Before we pass within doors I must present to you both 
 the generous friend but for whom I should not now be alive. 
 This is he,” he added as Zatthu slowly came and stood beside 
 the litter. ‘This is the man who drew his sword for me when 
 I had no claim upon him. He is no doubt surprised to see the 
 women of my household run forth into the open without veils 
 to greet me, accustomed as he is to the ways and manners of 
 Jerusalem. But when is custom not to be set aside if not 
 for aman who has had too intimate an acquaintance with the 
 sword of a bandit? And this daughter of mine — her name 
 is Thisoa and her mother is Xenodice — has always showed 
 disdain for rules and customs that did not fall in with her 
 own ideas. And now” — he looked at his wife and daughter 
 as he said this — “twill you both thank this brave man for 
 his generous act and make him feel that he is welcome to our 
 house.” 
 
 “You are welcome indeed,” said Xenodice stepping for- 
 ward and standing directly in front of Zatthu. “Words 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 79 
 
 would fail me if I tried to express to you my gratitude. I 
 shudder to think of the grief I should have suffered but for 
 your timely service. From my heart I thank you.” 
 
 “And I, too, thank you,” said Thisoa, smiling graciously as 
 she spoke and once more looking Zatthu in the eyes for an in- 
 stant. It was only for an instant, but as Zatthu gazed into 
 the violet depths of eyes by far the most beautiful he had 
 ever seen, he was again stirred by the thought that woman 
 was not created to be shunned or let alone. 
 
 The litter was lifted. All moved on; and out of the glar- 
 ing sunlight Zatthu was ushered into the shaded and com- 
 fortable house of Aristarchus. 
 
80 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Il 
 
 A servant in white linen conducted him to the room assigned 
 to him. In a wondering mood he followed the man. Ordi- 
 narily observant, he did not now look scrutinizingly about 
 him and he got only the vague impression of elegance and 
 taste- 
 
 Once in his apartment he wished to be left to himself. But 
 he let the servant remove the stains of travel from his feet 
 and hands and help him attire himself in one of the fresh 
 changes of apparel that had been generously provided. 
 Grateful when the man left and closed the door behind him, 
 he sat down to think. Bred and trained in the ways of a 
 rigid sect, he found himself questioning whether his ideas 
 needed readjustment. Those two women of noble dignity who 
 had come out unveiled under the open sky and greeted him 
 so graciously had set a wind playing on the stacked sheaves 
 of his cherished conceptions. The stack had not indeed been 
 thrown rudely down. It was only a little disturbed. Had it 
 become necessary to pull it to pieces and build it all up from 
 the bottom? Hardly so; but it needed a little reconstruction. 
 
 It was while he was still brooding that the servant, Nicon 
 by name, appeared again and invited him to go to Aris- 
 tarchus’ own apartment. Surprised, yet gladly obeying the 
 summons, he was taken to the bedside of his wounded host, 
 whom he addressed on the instant he entered the room with- 
 out waiting for him to speak. 
 
 “This attention to a guest is most generous, but it would 
 please me better if you obeyed the injunctions your wife and 
 daughter gave you at your very door. I beg you to rest and 
 not concern yourself about me.” 
 
 “A sick man is always refractory and I am no exception 
 to the rule. Rest I shall, but not till the rites of hospitality 
 have been duly shown. I see you are freshly clad; that is 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 81 
 
 well. Now you must eat and drink with me. Pray sit down.” 
 
 Zatthu seated himself close to his host. He could not do 
 otherwise. At a signal from Aristarchus Nicon brought to 
 the bedside a table on which a slender repast had been pre- 
 pared. ; 
 
 “Those figs,” said Aristarchus, “were grown in our own 
 garden and are entirely:fresh. I am sure you will find them 
 palatable. You may think the barley cakes do not look 
 tempting, but if you will try one I am sure you will be pleased. 
 They are mixed with honey and I have never known Grumio 
 —I brought him with me from Athens — to fail in getting 
 the proportions right. It is a meagre offering to a hungry 
 man after a trying experience with the poor fare of Galilean 
 inns; but I shall see that a more substantial repast is served 
 you soon. I merely wish you to eat a morsel with me now and 
 drain a cup of wine to establish the tie of friendship. You 
 are to be what we Greeks call éévos, the ‘guest-friend’ of the 
 house. So first of all pray drink from the beaker which Nicon 
 has filled for you. Your own health I shall drink in this 
 greatly weakened mixture, as wine undiluted would not be 
 good for my wound. 
 
 “Ah, I see that you hesitate, but you need not do so. This 
 tie puts no obligation upon you whatever. You have done 
 for me what I never can repay. I want you to be my ‘guest- 
 friend’ merely that you may feel my house to be your home 
 and my interest and service always to be at your command.” 
 
 Hardly more than a youth, Zatthu had a settled gravity 
 born both from native seriousness and from the dominance of 
 his great purpose over his mind. His force of character 
 made him a leader; for some time he had been taking the tone 
 of a leader in his dealings with men. This Aristarchus felt, 
 and, much older though he was, he spoke not without defer- 
 ence in so earnestly pressing his genial hospitality; and it 
 was even with a shade of anxiety that he awaited his guest’s 
 
 reply. 
 
82. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 The reply did not come; so the Greek continued, 
 
 “Perhaps I am expecting too much. You Hebrews are a 
 proud people. You seem to hold yourselves above all other 
 races, and I believe your Mosaic Law makes you averse to 
 eating and drinking with those whom you count aliens and to 
 partaking of foods they daily use.” 
 
 “Moses did bind my people to many usages and customs,” 
 Zatthu said at last, “which prevent us from entering freely 
 into relations of friendliness and hospitality with those who 
 are not of our own blood. ‘These rites and customs came, we 
 think, from Jehovah Himself, that we might preserve our race 
 strain pure and be his peculiar people from generation to 
 generation. And so I must confess to you that my mind has 
 _ been undergoing a conflict. When I accepted your invitation 
 to come here, I did not think of all that it involved; and the 
 Mosaic traditions came home to me forcibly when you so 
 generously urged me to become your guest-friend by partak- 
 ing of your bounty. 
 
 “But the conflict has passed. It has altogether passed. 
 What I saw and heard as we neared your door has been as a 
 light to me. Jehovah blesses a pure home. Surely, this home 
 of yours is under his holy keeping. Surely He looked with 
 favor on me when I helped to save you and He looks with 
 favor on me now as I come beneath your roof for food and 
 shelter. The Romans would find and slay me, yet you take 
 me in. Truly, you are Jehovah’s servant and you do me 
 honor when you would fain make me your guest-friend. 
 Gladly would I be that, but I feel that I ought not to be. I 
 am a hunted man. All that I shall ever bring you will be 
 trouble.” 
 
 “Let it come. I shall welcome it. Did you not save my 
 Life ny a Sse NS 
 
 “Hardly your life; only your property. They would not 
 have put you to death in cold blood.” 
 
 “They were just about to give a death stroke to my com- 
 
® 
 
 PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 83 
 
 panions. Some of them at any rate you saved from destruc- 
 tion. So if the scruples occasioned by your race and creed 
 have vanished, I pray you drink with me and eat of this 
 simple fare.” 
 
 Both drank and Zatthu ate, somewhat hastily, a fig and a 
 bit of the barley cake. Then he rose and excused himself, for 
 he knew the interview had brought more fatigue to his host 
 than he had anticipated when he gave free play to his impulses 
 of hospitality. But as Zatthu strode away he was halted by 
 a request that gave him a shock of surprise and pleasure. 
 
 “Will you not,” said Aristarchus, “allow my wife and 
 daughter to receive you later after you have eaten and rested? 
 They wish to give you a heartier and friendlier welcome than 
 they could before you had passed under our roof.” 
 
 Zatthu bowed gravely and said, 
 
 “Your consideration knows no bounds. It leaves nothing 
 unthought of or unsaid.” 
 
 *‘Nicon will wait on you then sometime before sundown.” 
 
 Zatthu bowed once more and went to his own apartment. 
 
84 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IV 
 
 There he was soon served with a bounteous meal which con- 
 vinced him that his host’s praise of the cook Grumio was well 
 warranted. But though he could but realize that the dishes 
 were deliciously prepared, he did not eat with the zest of a 
 hungry man. His mind was upon what the day had brought 
 and what it was yet to_bring. 
 
 The doughtiest enemies human beings have to face they 
 coin with their own brains. Superstition, tradition, usage 
 rout men who would not quail before an army with banners. 
 And never was a sect or a class more dominated by usage and 
 tradition than that to which Zatthu belonged. ‘The Pharisees 
 were slaves to the beliefs and practices which their party had 
 long held sacred. They had indeed become formalists of the 
 most uncompromising type; and though they had thus 
 stamped themselves as ardent patriots they had at the same 
 time grown to be fierce and intolerant bigots. They were 
 patriots because they held that Hebrews of unmixed blood 
 were alone acceptable to Jehovah and would be raised by Him 
 above all the nations of the world. They were bigots because 
 they thought by sacredly keeping their time-honored observ- 
 ances they made themselves immeasurably superior to the 
 common herd of men. Of the highest importance therefore 
 was it to bow absolutely to tradition and to obey every jot 
 and tittle of the law. The Pharisee who violated ancient rite 
 and custom made himself unclean. 
 
 Zatthu could not but be strongly swayed by the beliefs and 
 traditions of his sect. Happily he was too large-minded to 
 make a fetich of them. It was not without a shock that he 
 had seen Aristarchus’ wife and daughter come forth to greet 
 him unveiled; yet he soon felt that these women were too 
 dignified and noble to be regarded with anything but deep 
 respect. In all matters of behavior and decorum they must 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 85 
 
 be a law unto themselves. Hence it was his very profound 
 recognition of their worth and of the beautiful character 
 they gave to this home he was enjoying, that made him willing 
 to become Aristarchus’ guest-friend. 
 
 Yet how strange it was and what did it mean? Jehovah 
 was guiding his every step. Of that he felt sure. Without 
 that confidence how could he go on with his mighty task of set- 
 ting his country free? Had not Jehovah delivered him from 
 prison when everything seemed hopeless? And surely it was 
 under the leading of this same Jehovah that he found his way 
 directly from Cesarea to the spot where the generous-minded 
 Greek was fighting for his property and his life. 
 
 Yes, none but the mighty Jehovah had brought him into 
 this friendly home, and who could say what end He had had 
 in doing so? Perhaps these kindly Greeks would turn to him 
 for light, spiritual light. Perhaps they would bow to the 
 God of Abraham and Moses. Perhaps they would lend their 
 influence to the cause so near to his heart. Those two women 
 of noble and commanding presence showed a ready interest in 
 his great ambition. And what a glorious part had been 
 played by the women of his nation in the past! There were 
 Miriam and Deborah, and Manoah’s wife and Esther; yes, 
 and the dread deed of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, was 
 not to be forgotten. 
 
 True, that stately girl with the lustrous eyes could never 
 be a Deborah. That was not thinkable. She was not of his 
 people; such as she could never lead and inspire them. Yet 
 from her and her mother and from Aristarchus too he might 
 get sympathy and counsel. Who could say what means 
 Jehovah would use to confound His enemies? Did He not 
 raise up Cyrus to capture Babylon and release the Hebrew 
 exiles from their long captivity? Aristarchus was a trader, 
 but he was not sordid. He might be led by Jehovah to give of 
 his labor and his substance to the holy Cause. 
 
 The Cause! On that did Zatthu now brood long and 
 
86 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 fondly. But for the faith that was in him its prospects were 
 not bright. He was an escaped prisoner. The Romans were 
 everywhere looking for him. He had to abandon Juda and 
 plant sedition in Galilee — in Galilee where were Syrians and 
 Arabs and Pheenicians and other aliens living side by side with 
 his own countrymen. What a mixed host would be formed 
 out of these men of varying race and varying traditions? 
 Could it lay low the serried Roman legion? Yes, he was sure 
 it could. Had he not just now been seeing Jehovah’s hand in 
 the great deliverance that had been wrought for him at 
 Cesarea? It could not fail when the freedom of the chosen 
 people was at stake. 
 
 To confirm his faith he dwelt upon the past. His spirit 
 waxed strong within him as he thought of all that the God of 
 his fathers had done for the generations of long ago. ‘Those 
 wondrous deeds now almost seemed to be enacted before his 
 very eyes. He saw the Red Sea engulf the host of Pharaoh. 
 He saw the brazen serpent lifted up in the wilderness and the 
 water gushing out of the smitten rock. He saw the priests 
 pass dryshod over the bed of Jordan. He saw the walls of 
 Jericho fall, the Philistines plunge to destruction when Sam- 
 son pulled away the pillars of their temple. 
 
 Absorbed in thinking of these wondrous manifestations of 
 Jehovah’s power, he was oblivious of the passage of the hours. 
 His soul was transported, a feeling of exaltation possessed 
 him. The things that would be done were greater far than 
 the things accomplished of old. And it was through him that 
 they would be wrought. He was humbled and yet exalted at 
 the thought of it. The day might come when he would inter- 
 pret the will of Jehovah. A wondrous thought, that; yet he 
 must never let it lead him astray. If he was to be a leader 
 like Joshua or a messenger like Elisha, he would always re- 
 member that without Jehovah’s will not a single Roman could 
 be thrust down into the dust. 
 
 It was while his soul was thrilled with thoughts like these 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 87 
 
 that he was summoned to go to the wife and daughter of his 
 host. Mechanically he rose and followed the servant. His 
 mind was still on the things he was to do. The zeal for per- 
 forming them burned so strongly in him that it was with a 
 kindling eye and an exultant tread that he walked into the 
 room where the two women were awaiting him. He was more 
 like a prophet ready to disclose a vision than a fugitive from 
 justice who might on the morrow be captured and put to 
 death. 
 
 Xenodice’s greeting was stately yet most cordial. Neither 
 she nor Thisoa was now attired in spotless white as in the 
 morning. -Xenodice had on a grey robe which toned with the 
 greyish color of her hair and which fell in graceful folds from 
 her matronly figure. But matronly though she was, she car- 
 ried herself superbly and her easy bearing as she advanced a 
 few steps to meet Zatthu and show him peculiar graciousness 
 might have been a model for Esther when she wanted to win 
 the favor of Ahasuerus. Her eyes were dark and large; her 
 features were finely moulded; and so noble was her presence 
 that no one who was sensitive to the charm of a perfectly 
 poised womanhood could have been tempted to turn from her 
 at once to behold the more brilliant beauty of her daughter. 
 
 Not so was Zatthu tempted, even though he was immedi- 
 iately conscious of Thisoa’s captivating personality Hers 
 was indeed a challenging and arresting beauty. ‘Tall as 
 Zatthu himself, and slender in figure, she walked with so elas- 
 tic a step that her motion seemed like joyously dancing waves. 
 Her mother’s features were of the purely Grecian type. Her 
 own were shaped by nature when, in one of her defiant moods, 
 she banishes rule and law and yet secures a surpassing loveli- 
 ness. Perfect regularity they had not. But they were deli- 
 cately moulded, and the mouth, whose naturai curves were 
 almost those of a smile, together with the sparkling eyes made 
 the whole countenance radiant. And this beaming brightness, 
 which made her presence felt like a burst of mellow sunshine, 
 
88 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 was enhanced by the masses of golden hair that were gathered 
 in shining coils above her low broad forehead. In her robe 
 of soft purple she was a figure of rich and entrancing beauty. 
 
 “Again let me thank you for the service you have done us,” 
 said Xenodice as she stepped graciously forward. “And let 
 me, too, welcome you to our home.” 
 
 The full grey eyes looked smilingly into his. With just 
 enough of a smile to soften his austere gravity, he returned 
 the glance, bowed low and said, — 
 
 “You magnify the service. Your welcome honors me 
 greatly.” 
 
 Xenodice motioned him to a chair. All sat and she con- 
 tinued, 
 
 “Will you not sometime bring your two friends here? I 
 should like to tell them too that I never can forget what we 
 owe to them.” 
 
 “T will gladly bring them if they will come.” 
 
 “Why should they be unwilling? Do not men always like 
 to be praised when they have done a brave and generous 
 deed?” 
 
 “Not always. ‘These friends of mine think of one thing and 
 live but for one thing — to free Judea.” 
 
 “But you have honored us by coming here, and my husband 
 tells me that for this same end you, too, have labored, been put 
 in prison and barely escaped death.” 
 
 “They follow, I lead. The eagle must fly where the spar- 
 row does not go.” 
 
 *““And what does the eagle see that is hidden from the spar- 
 row?” inquired Thisoa. Contrary to her wont she had been 
 up to this time silent, for Zatthu had seemed to cast a spell 
 upon her from the moment he had entered the room. His 
 bearing had not been without majesty. His rapt expression, 
 his measured tread and his deep gravity had given to his 
 presence a distinction which was emphasized when he spoke. 
 His rich sonorous voice was all the more impressive because 
 
PART II— THE DAWNING LIGHT 89 
 
 of the entire calmness of his tones. Their very tranquillity 
 suggested a reserve of power. And this quiet forcefulness was 
 deeply felt by Thisoa. So dominated was she by it that her 
 utterance, half-playful though it was, was made in a spirit of 
 deep seriousness. The man interested her. She was eager to 
 know his mind. 
 
 Zatthu turned his eyes to her as she spoke. Splendid as 
 her beauty was, it had roused no deeper feeling in him than 
 had been awakened when he saw her first. In the hours that 
 had just passed he had consecrated himself newly to his pur- 
 pose. It now burned within him like a flame. It made him 
 not easily sensitive to other emotions. And yet these words 
 of the beautiful Greek almost startled him. He caught the 
 note of sobriety in the rallying question. Was there here a 
 spirit intense, soaring, responsive to high ambitions, even like 
 his own? With unchanged gravity, but with’a tinge of curi- 
 osity in his look, he answered, 
 
 “Things not lightly to be told. Coming earthquakes ; 
 mountains falling; floods covering the earth.” 
 
 “Like your people, you talk in figures. I can guess at 
 your meaning, but I am not sure of it. Will you not tell it 
 to us plainly?’ 
 
 “Tell me first your guess.” 
 
 “You mean war against the Romans and their downfall.” 
 
 “Exactly that. I need add nothing.” 
 
 “It will really be?” 
 
 **T am sure of it.” 
 
 ‘And sure of the end?” 
 
 “Absolutely sure.” 
 
 “What makes you sure?” 
 
 “My faith in the God of my people.” 
 
 “The God whom you call Jehovah?” 
 
 “Even so.” 
 
 “What will He do?” 
 
 “Fight with us; destroy our enemies.” 
 
90 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “What makes you think He will?” 
 
 “He did it of old. He will do it again.” 
 
 ‘“Has He always done this for your people?” 
 
 ‘Not always; not for many hundred years.” 
 
 “What made Him stop and why should He begin again 
 now?” 
 
 “My people sinned continually and worshipped false gods. 
 Now they worship Him alone.” 
 
 ‘You seem very sure. I hope your trust will not prove 
 your undoing.” 
 
 “Tt will not do that. Without it we should fail; with it 
 we shall overwhelm our enemies. But I have lingered long. 
 TI must not strain my welcome, for which I thank you both 
 from the depths of my heart.” 
 
 And before any protest could be made Zatthu rose, bowed 
 profoundly, turned abruptly and walked out of the room. 
 
 So quick and decided was his action that quiet acceptance 
 of it seemed the only possible thing. So Thisoa and her 
 mother watched him depart without speaking. After he had 
 disappeared Thisoa sat for quite a while, in silence. Then 
 she said to her mother, 
 
 “That, mother, is a man. If he does not succeed he will 
 fail as gloriously as Leonidas and his brave Spartans did when 
 
 they fell at Thermopyle.” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 91 
 
 V 
 
 The following morning Zatthu began to look about him in 
 a spirit of curiosity and to get more definite impressions of 
 the character of the house and its furnishings. Until now he 
 had been too absorbed by his ambitious projects to take a 
 deep interest in his surroundings. 
 
 The house was a very spacious one and artfully constructed 
 to get the currents of air that blew across the lake from the 
 mountains around. Its rooms were large and high. Their 
 arrangement was rather that of a Roman than a Greek man- 
 sion, and yet the Roman manner of building had not been 
 closely followed: for in the large atrium near the entrance, 
 as well as in the stately peristyle in the rear of the mansion, 
 was a fountain whose constantly playing waters gave forth 
 a cooling sound. The seats in the atrium were plainly de- 
 signed for comfort and for daily living. On either side of it 
 were ample chambers for the use of guests, and it was in one 
 of these that Zatthu was lodged. A passage, closed only by 
 draperies, led to the peristyle, the middle space in which was 
 surrounded by columns and open to the sky. Artistically 
 arranged about the columns were abundant flowers and 
 shrubs in pots or boxes filled with earth. It was on either side 
 of the peristyle that the rooms especially devoted to the uses 
 of the family were built. Back of these was the kitchen; be- 
 yond was a carefully cultivated garden. 
 
 So different was this whole interior from that to which 
 he had been accustomed in Jewish houses that Zatthu noted 
 it all with interest so far as he could do so without intruding — 
 upon privacy. But the thing that impressed him most was 
 the absence of bronze and marble statues. Not one was to be 
 seen. The furnishings were rich and even sumptuous. The 
 draperies, the chairs and other furniture of wood and bronze, 
 the vases, the tessellated floors all gave evidence that taste 
 
92 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 had been shown and expense not spared in giving the house 
 beauty and completeness. But Aristarchus had been mindful 
 that he lived among a people to whom graven images were an 
 offence. So, under his roof there was to be found no likeness 
 of anything in heaven above, or on the earth beneath, or in 
 the waters under the earth. 
 
 It was while he was examining a massive and beautifully 
 carved seat of olive wood that he was called by Nicon to the 
 bedside of Aristarchus.” The Greek was in a cheerful mood. 
 He had slept well. He felt the responsibility of a generous- 
 minded host. He was anxious that his guest should be in no 
 doubt that he was heartily welcome. 
 
 ‘“You see me so well this morning,” he exclaimed, “that I 
 shall soon give Asculapius his discharge. And how is it with 
 you, my friend? Did this air from the Lake of Galilee give 
 you refreshing slumber?” 
 
 “T could not fail to sleep soundly in a home where comfort 
 is showered upon a guest like the rains brought by the 
 western winds.” 
 
 “T rejoice to hear it. And will you not rest here this morn- 
 ing after your long and weary journeying and this afternoon 
 tell my wife, my daughter, and myself that wonderful tale of 
 your escape from prison? You know you gave me only the 
 most meagre account of it. I want to hear it in full — not a 
 single thing left out.” 
 
 “Y will willingly tell the story, but rest I must not. This 
 morning I must seek my friends and find what they have 
 learned. ‘They have not been idle, you may be sure.” 
 
 “Will you not bring them here? My wife and daughter 
 would be glad to see them and thank them for so generously 
 helping a stranger.” 
 
 “It is the shout of battle, not honeyed words, that they 
 long for.” 
 
 “Do your countrymen not love praise?” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 93 
 
 “Does the hunter court the cooling shade when he finds the 
 leopard’s tracks?” 
 
 “Always the tyranny of Rome. You and your followers 
 think of nothing else. Do you all dream of it at night?” 
 
 “IT do, myself, sometimes.” 
 
 “And do you see the rod you bow to broken in pieces?” 
 
 “Rather do I see a monster of clay shattered into frag- 
 ments and trampled into dust.” 
 
 “I should be glad to see your dream come true were it not 
 that fire and sword would devastate the land if this should 
 be. Well, do not forget that your friends will be warmly 
 welcomed here if they choose to come. And do not linger too 
 long with them. Two or three hours before sundown we shall 
 expect to hear your story.” 
 
 Though Aristarchus had not been encouraged to expect a 
 visit from Kelita and Shobek, the visit was very shortly made. 
 Going from the room of his host to his own apartment, Zatthu 
 found his two followers in the atrium whither they had just 
 been ushered. Since they had parted from him they had 
 picked up news which they thought he ought to know. Not 
 being sure that he would seek them immediately, they had 
 come without delay to him. Finding they had things, im- 
 portant at least in their own eyes, to communicate, he took 
 them to his room where they could talk in freedom. 
 
 ‘And what have you discovered?” Zatthu began. 
 
 “We have discovered,” answered Kelita, “that Rome is on 
 your track.” 
 
 “Did you suppose I doubted it?” 
 
 “But,” said Shobek, “they know here in Capernaum all 
 about your escape from prison. They are looking for you 
 here. Wherever there are Roman troops they are watching 
 for you.” 
 
 “They may watch. They will not find me. No one heré 
 knows me.” 
 
 “But they may bring spies from Jerusalem,” added Kelita. 
 
94. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “I do not think it. Is Rome terrified that she should so 
 fear me? And as she does not know where I am, she would 
 have to scatter her spies all over Galilee. It is not enough 
 that they should know about me. Why, they would have to 
 arrest half the men in Capernaum if they were going to act 
 upon mere hearsay rumors of my doings.” 
 
 “But they will note that you are a stranger here,” said 
 Shobek. 
 
 “That is hardly possible. There are too many people in 
 the city for a newcomer to be so easily detected. However, 
 I will go to my host and present the case. If he thinks there 
 is anything in these fears of yours, I will at once find shelter 
 somewhere else. I must not imperil him. Wait for me here. 
 He will want me to bring you to him when he finds you are 
 here.”’ 
 
 Sending Nicon on to request a second interview, Zatthu 
 was immediately summoned to the room of his host. Present- 
 ing to Aristarchus the fears of Kelita and Shobek, he was 
 gratified to find them treated with scant consideration. In- 
 deed, Aristarchus laughed at them and demanded that the 
 two apprehensive Hebrews should be brought at once into 
 his presence. 
 
 “You will never make warriors,” he exclaimed when they 
 appeared, “if you are so easily alarmed. What can a general 
 do if his followers tell him to hide in a cave for fear of being 
 captured?” 
 
 Shobek laughed good-naturedly. Kelita seemed a little 
 crestfallen. 
 
 “We have but one general,” he said, ‘“‘and all is lost if any- 
 thing happens to him. I got him out of prison once, but I 
 might not be able to do it again.” 
 
 “Yes, you did get him out of prison, and a famous feat it 
 was. I do not blame you for not wishing to repeat it. But 
 our friend Zatthu is perfectly secure. No one in Capernaum 
 knows him, I am sure, and as for arresting him because he is 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 95 
 
 a stranger here and might be the man who caused such a ter- 
 rible commotion at Caesarea — why, that is absurd. Make 
 your minds easy; and now that you are here, I want my wife 
 and daughter to see you both. It is not every day that they 
 can look upon men who have saved my life. They want to 
 thank you for doing it. I know you are modest, but you 
 must let them see you. I have sent for them. Ah, here 
 they are.” 
 
 Xenodice and Thisoa entered the room at this moment, and 
 greeted the two doughty followers of Zatthu with extreme 
 graciousness, but with fine tact and understanding. Enough 
 was said to show sincerely felt gratitude; not enough to give 
 a tone of flattery to the words of appreciation. 
 
 The words did not have the same effect upon the two. 
 Shobek, in spite of his modesty, was pleased, but too embar- 
 rassed to say anything in reply. He blushed and. bowed 
 awkwardly, but, opening his mouth to speak, found speech 
 not forthcoming and so closed it without uttering a word. 
 Upon the hunchback, Thisoa seemed to cast a spell from the 
 moment she entered the room. He gazed at her in open-eyed 
 wonder, and when she spoke to him he looked up at her ador- 
 ingly as if she were a visitant from a higher world than his 
 own. When she and her mother withdrew, which they did as 
 soon as they had said what their feelings prompted, he seemed 
 to be in a revery. Hardly collecting himself to say a word 
 of farewell to Aristarchus he followed Zatthu who very 
 quickly brought the interview at Aristarchus’ bedside to an 
 end. Never had the lonely man, made shy by his deformity, 
 been under a woman’s refining and restraining influence. 
 Could the beautiful Greek have talked much and often with 
 him, she might have softened those fierce and savage instincts 
 which made him delight in killing a Roman by fair means or 
 by foul. But he never saw her again and to the end he 
 remained Rome’s deadly and vindictive enemy. 
 
96 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VI 
 
 Their apprehensions having been quieted, Kelita and Shobek 
 pressed Zatthu to accompany them to their abiding place. 
 This he did and walked with them to the central portion of 
 the city, where Zichri, the shawl dealer lived. So much had 
 he heard about Zatthu from his cousin Kelita that he greeted 
 him most heartily, and -yet not without caution and reserve. 
 The prudent trader was a patriot. Still, he was averse to 
 seeing hoardings scattered, homes ruined and blood flowing 
 in streams unless the sacrifice was not to be a vain one. 
 
 Zatthu talked with him long enough to win his confidence. 
 Then with Kelita and Shobek he sauntered for a long while 
 about the city. It was all new to him. Even though the 
 presence of a Roman garrison made it impossible for him to 
 linger long and labor there, he yet wished to study the people 
 and the place. He took in from a safe distance the solidly 
 built quarters of the soldiers. He passed by the synagogue 
 of black basalt, a stone much quarried in Galilee. He noted 
 the faces of the people he met upon the streets and wondered 
 at the number of Syrians, Arabs, and Pheenicians, and other 
 aliens whom he saw mixed with his own countrymen. Maiuld- 
 ness and goodhumor showed upon most of the countenances. 
 These were not men smarting under wrong and eager to 
 avenge it. Still, rebellion had broken out more than once in 
 Galilee. He was sure the same spirit could be roused again. 
 
 After a time Kelita conducted him to the humble abode of 
 a man who lived at the western end of the city. The man was 
 very old. He knew Galilee, so Kelita had learned from Zichri, 
 better than any one in Capernaum. Many, many years had 
 he travelled among its villages as a vender of small wares. 
 Now, white-bearded and dim-sighted, he had ceased to toil 
 and was living on his memories of the past. Eagerly he 
 peered into Zatthu’s face when confronted with him, and it 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT OF 
 
 was some moments before his scrutiny ended. Then he shook 
 his head and muttered, 
 
 “A leader! A leader! Elisha or [salah one have looked 
 as you do — but I do not know, I do not know.” 
 
 For a long time Zatthu talked with him. Information 
 about thoroughfares, byways, mountain passes, and villages 
 small and great he got from him. At last, bidding him good- 
 bye and promising to come again, he wended his way back to 
 the house of Aristarchus. It was now the late afternoon. 
 He would wait another day before mingling with the elders 
 of the synagogue or with other Jews of weight and substance 
 in the city. The promise he had given Aristarchus to tell of 
 his escape from prison must be kept. 
 
 It was into a room devoted to the uses of Xenodice and her 
 daughter that he was in due time ushered. The apartment 
 was a@ spacious one in the rear of the house and was ap- 
 proached through the peristyle. It was comfortably, not 
 luxuriously, furnished. Evidences of taste and refinement 
 were everywhere to be seen. The tints of the rugs were soft 
 and agreeable. On the walls were hangings daintily embroi- 
 dered by Thisoa and her mother. Chairs of the hard orange- 
 brown shittim wood, that were at once comfortable and artis- 
 tically designed and carved, gave the apartment a homelike 
 appearance. On a table of the same material stood a vase 
 filled with flowers that had been gathered from the garden 
 just outside. This garden was not the large one in the rear 
 of the mansion, but a smaller enclosure in which the two 
 women of the household could have entire seclusion. It was 
 surrounded by a high wall and could be entered from the 
 apartment by a connecting door. But it was a cabinet upon 
 the wall that more than anything else caught Zatthu’s eye. 
 Half open, it showed a number of wooden cylinders such as 
 manuscripts were kept in, by the Romans especially, in an- 
 cient times. This was truly a cultivated household. The 
 
98 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 mind was nurtured and trained, while the eye was s taught to 
 delight in what was beautiful. 
 
 Had Zatthu looked forward to this hour when he would 
 again gaze into the violet eyes of the daughter of his host? 
 Undoubtedly he had; but his desire to see her had not been 
 a restless one. Sentiment had not been roused in him. Still 
 was his mind too full of his one great purpose to have room 
 for another passion. Yet he had not forgotten Thisoa’s 
 quick strong grasp of his loftiest designs as he had unfolded 
 them in the previous interview. Here was one who felt the 
 appeal of what was heroic and great. To see this fervent 
 spirit show its enthusiasms would be a satisfaction. And cer- 
 tainly the satisfaction was not lessened by the beauty of the 
 face that would radiate sympathy. 
 
 Hearty was the greeting Zatthu received as he entered the 
 room. Aristarchus had been brought in on his couch. ‘The 
 moment he got sight of Zatthu he exclaimed, 
 
 ““Ah, here you come with that stately step, as if you had 
 scattered your enemies, and were ready to receive congratu- 
 lations. Really, I wonder that Pilate did not ask you to take 
 his seat instead of putting you in prison. But you are right 
 welcome, to my wife and daughter here as well as to myself.” 
 
 Xenodice and Thisoa smiled and made it plain that this 
 kindly feeling was shared by them also, Xenodice adding her 
 own brief words of greeting. Zatthu’s acknowledgment was 
 characteristically brief. Fluent as he was in speech, the lan- 
 guage of politeness never flowed readily from his lips. Its 
 suave exaggerations often seemed to him painfully insincere. 
 
 “You are worthy hosts,” he said as he bowed low, and that 
 faint smile, which to those who knew his habitual gravity was 
 like a sunbeam chasing over dark waters, played over his face. 
 
 “If we were worthy of our guest,” answered Aristarchus, 
 “we should inquire whether you found your friends com- 
 fortably lodged — for that you went home with them I have 
 no doubt — and whether this Galilean city of ours gives 
 
PART I1—THE DAWNING LIGHT 99 
 
 promise that it will aid your great enterprise. But we are 
 too eager to hear your story to be polite. Pray tell it to us 
 then without delay. Our interest in your welfare and your 
 prospects we shall show later.” 
 
 “Ves, this will be so much better than a book,” said Thisoa. 
 “Yt will make the Iliad seem tame.” 
 
 “Yet it is a bloody tale I have to tell. Will it really give 
 you pleasure to hear how brave men were slain?” 
 
 “Yes, indeed! The same pleasure that it gives me to read 
 how the Spartans fell fighting at Thermopyle. If men have 
 the courage to do such things, women should have the heart 
 to hear of them.” 
 
 Zatthu looked searchingly a moment at the speaker as she 
 said this. A girl who could so readily give a reason for her 
 feelings had not before crossed his path. Were there Jewish 
 maidens like this? Perhaps. He had seen none. 
 
 “Bravery, I must admit,” he answered, “‘is a stirring theme. 
 It thrills me to read how our great king David when he was 
 but a stripling killed the giant Gohath with a sling. And it 
 is an exciting story I have to tell. What my two friends did 
 ought to be sung by a poet like your Homer. I fear my own 
 narrative will disappoint you.” 
 
 But the narration was too vivid to cause disappointment. 
 Zatthu’s loyalty to his two rescuers made him give color to 
 his words. So eager was he to do justice to their valor and 
 resourcefulness that he described their actions with warmth 
 of feeling and vigorous phrase. 
 
 ‘A noble adventure, nobly told!” cried Aristarchus when 
 he had finished. ‘The exploit was indeed worthy of a Homer’s 
 powers, but one would not really wish for a more thrilling 
 account than you have given.” 
 
 “What do you suppose the Romans thought,” asked Thisoa 
 ‘“‘when they examined the bodies and saw how battered and 
 bruised some of them were?” 
 
 Zatthu darted another inquisitive glance at her before he 
 
100 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 answered. She had manifested the liveliest interest in his 
 story as it progressed. Now that it was over, instead of 
 showing enthusiasm she asked a question that proved she had 
 given attention to the details as they were presented. Here, 
 it occurred to him, was a mind that would be a useful ally in 
 the planning of large things. But could he, who would shake 
 the yoke of bondage off of his nation, find an ally in a girl of 
 alien race and false beliefs? No, no! It was preposterous to 
 think it. 
 
 “IT have wondered over that myself,’”’ he answered. ‘No 
 doubt they were puzzled. The truth they could not have 
 guessed, for surely no such fight was ever fought before.” 
 
 *‘And now that your story is told,’ said Xenodice, “let me 
 thank you for telling it. As my husband has said, it needed 
 no better narrator than yourself. Never have I listened to 
 anything so thrilling. But it is time for us to ask about your 
 plans and prospects, if we may. You told us something of 
 them when we saw you first; will you not tell us more?” 
 
 “Do you really wish to know?” 
 
 **We do indeed.” 
 
 “That seems to me strange.” 
 
 “Why so?” 
 
 ‘““Because you are not of my race and worship.” 
 
 “What of that? Is not a struggle for freedom always a 
 thing of the deepest interest?” 
 
 “Yes, to a noble mind it is. But you are Greeks. You do 
 not feel the tyranny we Hebrews writhe beneath. I should 
 expect you to call it an act of folly instead of a struggle for 
 freedom.” 
 
 “It would be noble and heroic still,” was Xenodice’s quiet 
 answer. 
 
 “And though we do not bow to your Jehovah, we do not 
 worship the Greek or the Roman deities,” said Thisoa. “They 
 are too much like ourselves.” 
 
 “You have learned what it took my own people hundreds 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 101 
 
 of years and bitter suffering to learn. Hardly had they 
 been delivered from Egypt by great wonders before they made 
 and worshipped a golden calf. Under many of our kings they 
 went astray and bowed down to images of Baal. They were 
 sorely punished and they have learned at last to worship 
 Jehovah who made heaven and earth.” 
 
 ‘Flow do you know He made heaven and earth?” 
 
 “Fle has told us that He did.” 
 
 ““When did He tell you?” 
 
 “Long ago. In our sacred books.” 
 
 “He did not come Himself and tell you?” 
 
 “He showed Himself to Moses and talked with him face 
 to face.” 
 
 “To no one else?” 
 
 “Not so fully. But by angels whom He sent, by signs and 
 wonders, by answering the prayers of our holy men and 
 prophets, He revealed Himself again and again through many 
 hundred years.” 
 
 “TI wish I could see Him. I should like to worship the one 
 who made the earth and the sun and the moon and the stars. 
 Our Greek Zeus never did that — no never in the world. He 
 had to be created himself.” | 
 
 ‘And so he couldn’t create, you think?” Zatthu inquired. 
 He was finding it deeply interesting to probe the mind of this 
 girl who had thoughts and problems of her own. 
 
 “No,” she answered, “not the sun and the moon and the 
 earth. How could he? I could shape all sorts of things out 
 of clay, but I should have to have the clay to begin with.” 
 
 “Does your god Jehovah,” inquired Xenodice, “tell what 
 becomes of us after death? I had a son three years older than 
 my daughter here. He died when he was but ten, and I have 
 grieved for him ever since. It would be a great joy to know 
 that I was to meet him again.” 
 
 “Jehovah has told us little about what is in store for us 
 after our life here is ended. But our holy men have known 
 
102. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 that the grave takes only the body, not that within the body 
 which never dies. And when King David lost his dearly be- 
 loved son, he said, ‘I shall go to him, but he will not return 
 to me.’ ” 
 
 “TI, too,” said Aristarchus, “should like to know about all 
 these things; but we asked our friend to come here that he 
 might tell us a story, not that we might put ourselves at 
 school. I hope that if he feels willing he will tell us what 
 signs of encouragement he sees here in Capernaum. But let 
 us not trouble him with further questions about these things 
 that are as deep as the sea and as high as heaven.” 
 
 So Zatthu told briefly about his experiences during the 
 earlier part of the day. So kindly was the interest that was 
 shown in him and his project that he felt it would be ungra- 
 cious to wrap his doings in secrecy. But there was so little 
 to tell that he made his account a brief one and excused him- 
 self as soon as it was ended. He felt that it was quite time 
 to leave Aristarchus to rest. 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 103 
 
 VII 
 
 “I have tasted your salt. I have, though not without hesi- 
 tation, let the tie be established between us which you so 
 generously wished to form. I have told the story of the 
 prison adventure in the presence of your wife and daughter. 
 And now I must take my leave and be about my business.” 
 
 “Where are you going?” 
 
 “To the house of some Pharisee. Kelita’s cousin named 
 several yesterday who would gladly give me shelter.” 
 
 “But why leave here?” 
 
 “Because I ought to be with my own people.” 
 
 Such was the conversation that began when Zatthu on the 
 following morning was taken to the room of Aristarchus. 
 But the Greek stoutly resisted his guest’s decision. Zatthu’s 
 strong personality was felt through the house. His pres- 
 ence seemed the dominating one in it. In the brief time that 
 he had been there he had made husband, wife, and daughter 
 all feel that his interests were theirs, his relation to them a 
 living and vital one. There would be a painful void when he 
 was gone. So it was with strong feeling that Aristarchus 
 said in reply to Zatthu’s wish to be with those of his own race: 
 
 “Be with your own people every day. Go about among 
 them. Consort with them. Consult and plan with them. 
 But all the while make my house your home. Should the 
 rumor by any possibility get round that Zatthu, the escaped 
 prisoner, was hiding in Capernaum, you would be safest under 
 this roof. All the Jewish houses would be searched. They 
 would not think of looking for you here.” 
 
 “But you would be aiding and abetting treason. I am 
 seeking to make my people revolt. You give me shelter. 
 Rome would count you, too, a rebel should all this be known.” 
 
 “That is my concern. I do not fear the consequences.” 
 
 “They may be grave.” 
 
104 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “No. Marcus the centurion here would protect me. He is 
 my friend. He would not think I had done wrong in giving 
 hospitality to the man to whom I owed so much. Besides, we 
 want to hear more of your traditions and your faith. Zeus 
 and Apollo are dead. They never really lived. But we 
 Greeks, like all peoples, would fain be worshippers. Stay 
 and tell us what to believe.” 
 
 Like all his race Zatthu had been brought up in the belief 
 that Jehovah was the God of his own people and none but 
 Hebrews could be under his peculiar care. And yet this 
 appeal impressed him deeply. Perhaps he was chosen by Jeho- 
 vah to lead this just and upright household to the truth. 
 So after a moment’s thought he answered, 
 
 “T cannot say ‘No’ to such a request. I will remain with 
 you until the Sabbath has passed by. That is two days 
 hence. Your hospitality is most generous.” 
 
 “To you how could it be other than free and open? And 
 now that you have yielded, though but partially, to one wish, | 
 I am going to press another. My friend Marcus, the cen- 
 turion of whom I spoke, is coming here this morning. I want 
 you to know him.” 
 
 “That could not be. It would get you into trouble and 
 ruin me and all my hopes.” 
 
 “Oh, you are not to meet him. That of course would not 
 do at all. I want you to go into that room adjoining where 
 you can hear all we say without being seen.” 
 
 “Your proposal is tempting. I should like to know the 
 man’s character and mind. It might some time be of use to 
 me. But would it be quite fair to do this?” 
 
 “Not if he were to give away secrets. But we shall talk of 
 nothing he would be unwilling for you to hear about if he 
 knew you were at hand. So you would be no spy. You would 
 simply be getting acquainted with a peculiarly frank and 
 honorable mind.” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 105 
 
 “Well, I will do as you wish. How soon do you expect 
 him?” 
 
 “At any moment. He sent me word that he had heard of 
 my mishap and was coming to see me. Ah, there is Nicon 
 coming now. I hear his tread. Perhaps Marcus has arrived 
 and is wishing to know if I am ready to receive him.” 
 
 It was as Aristarchus had supposed. Nicon entered and 
 said the centurion was waiting in the atrium. He was bidden 
 to usher him in and as the servant went out, Aristarchus said 
 hurriedly to Zatthu, 
 
 “Remember that my servants who helped drive off the rob- 
 bers were all strictly charged not to tell of the assistance we 
 had from you and your friends. They are trusty and have 
 certainly obeyed their instructions. No story of the help you 
 gave has got about. So be at ease, Marcus has not come 
 here to make any discomforting inquiries.” 
 
 Zatthu nodded by way of reply and stepped into the ad- 
 joining room. He found it to be a dressing or retiring room 
 such as becomes more of a necessity than a luxury in a large 
 and well furnished house. He seated himself and soon found 
 himself listening to a conversation of absorbing interest. 
 
106 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Vill 
 
 In a moment or two a heavy tread heralded the approach 
 of the Roman centurion. He received the heartiest welcome 
 from Aristarchus and equally cordial was his own greeting 
 to his wounded friend. 
 
 “Delighted I am,” Zatthu heard him say in a deep, musical 
 voice, “to find you so much like yourself. I was grieved, in- 
 deed, when I heard of your mishap. Was the wound deep?” 
 
 “It wasn’t one of those savage thrusts your Roman broad- 
 swords give. I shall soon be well of it. And it was my own 
 fault. I am ashamed when I think how I let that fellow get 
 by my guard.” 
 
 “Tell me all about it. Just where did it happen and how 
 much of a fight did you really have?” 
 
 ‘‘Not much of a one. We beat the fellows off easily. They 
 came at us while we were passing a spur of the Carmel range. 
 Carmel is well wooded, you know. I suppose they have their 
 nest somewhere on its slopes.” 
 
 “Tt is a nest that ought to be cleaned out. How many of 
 the ruffians were there?” 
 
 “JT didn’t count them. I believe they outnumbered us by 
 one or two and we were seven. But you see we were better 
 armed, and so we routed them without any trouble though 
 the fellow I crossed swords with did manage to make his 
 weapon bite.” 
 
 The next fragment of conversation Zatthu followed imper- 
 fectly. He was amused at the plausible falsehoods by which 
 his own part in the conflict was hidden; he was also con- 
 cerned by them. That Aristarchus should on his account be 
 forced to deceive his friend troubled him. He was therefore 
 glad to hear the subject dismissed by Marcus’ declaration 
 that Mount Carmel must be searched and the lair of the 
 marauding band discovered. “I hope you will find them,” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 107 
 
 said Aristarchus. “Otherwise I shall feel like taking a 
 stronger guard on my next trading expedition. They might 
 grow in numbers, you know. But tell me the news. Shut up 
 as I am, I haven’t got in touch with things here. First of all, 
 how are Naarah and the children? Does Miriam grow to 
 look more like her mother; and that black-eyed little rascal 
 of a Cornelius — has he cut all his teeth yet?” 
 
 “We are all of us well. Miriam continues to look strik- 
 ingly like her mother, though I am not able to believe that 
 she wil ever be as beautiful as my Naarah. As for little 
 Cornelius, whom I named after my father you know, if I were 
 to judge by the troubled hours I have spent with him, he has 
 a great many more teeth than any child needs. Black though 
 his eyes are, like his mother’s, he has a Roman face and he is 
 going to be a real Roman man. But no more about my 
 family. I have my faults, but I am not going to be one of 
 those parents that bore their friends by talking about their 
 children.” 
 
 “A oreed, provided you tell me one thing more. Is Naarah’s 
 grandfather well, and where is he now?” 
 
 “He is well, though he has aged rapidly ever since he came 
 back from Rome to spend his last years in his own land. He 
 is living now with his nephew Phinehas in Nazareth. He 
 never would do more than visit with Naarah andme. He said 
 young married people should have their home to themselves.” 
 
 “A fine old man he is. I should like to see him again. 
 Well, as you don’t want to talk about your family, tell me 
 of the city. What has been happening in and about Ca- 
 pernaum?” 
 
 “What has been happening?. That is not an easy ques- 
 tion to answer. Many things have been happening. Sham- 
 mua the Sadducee has sold a lame donkey to Hilkiah, one of 
 the rulers of the synagogue, you may remember, for twice its 
 value, and has thereby brought much dissension into the 
 synagogue. Some side with Hilkiah and say he was shame- 
 
108 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 fully cheated; some with Shammua, claiming that Hilkiah 
 was served exactly right for buying with his eyes shut. My 
 sympathies are all with the donkey, for the poor beast has 
 to carry loads that are much too heavy for him. And then 
 old Kadmiel who was ninety-nine years old last Adar and 
 whose one desire is to be a hundred, nearly died in a fit of 
 choking, bati.2.477 
 
 “Stay, stay Marcus. I don’t want to know who has 
 sneezed or how many windy days there have been. It is real 
 news I am after. Ah, I know your mind so well. When you 
 put me off with these trifles, you have something of conse- 
 quence to tell, something that deeply interests you. What 
 cpp hara 
 
 There had been a twinkle in Marcus’ eye when he volubly 
 related these trivial happenings. Now his face became grave 
 as he said, 
 
 “Yes, there is a thing that is now interesting me above all 
 others. It is the appearance of the man Jesus of Nazareth 
 who was heralded by John the Baptist. You may have heard 
 that John the Baptist said a greater than he was to come 
 after him. I think he has come.” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 109 
 
 IX 
 
 These words of Marcus startled Zatthu so that he almost 
 betrayed his presence. John the Baptist! So that strange 
 fanatic was misleading people still! He himself with other 
 Pharisees had gone out from Jerusalem to hear him when he 
 preached in Judxa and baptized many in the Jordan. But 
 his words were wild and malevolent. The men of light and 
 leading like himself he had called a “generation of vipers” ; 
 the rough ignorant people he had greeted as brethren. Such 
 a man was a menace to any true movement for national de- 
 liverance. And this man Jesus could be no true leader if his 
 way had been prepared by John. Eagerly Zatthu waited for 
 what was to follow. 
 
 “TY remember John the Baptist,” said Aristarchus, “though 
 I saw him only once and I did not know he called himself the 
 herald of another. Is he preaching still?” 
 
 ““No, he has been put in prison by the tetrarch, Herod. 
 That evil-living prince, as you know, married Herodias, his 
 brother Philip’s wife. For this act of licentiousness John 
 rebuked him and roused Herod’s wrath, as the Hebrew 
 prophets roused it of old when they told a king to his face 
 of his evil deeds.” 
 
 “The Herod line has not been noted for clean living. I am 
 glad one of them has been called to account for his misdeeds. 
 But this man Jesus you were speaking of— where have I 
 heard of him before? His name is familiar.” 
 
 ‘Perhaps when he was at Capernaum the first time a little 
 while before the Passover. He was in the city for a few 
 days then.” 
 
 “No, I remember now. When I was on my way to Ptole- 
 mais and passed through Cana, they told me a strange story 
 of a thing he did there at a marriage feast. They said he 
 turned the jars of water into wine. But of course I counted 
 
110 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 it an idle tale, invented by some one who had taken too much 
 wine himself.” 
 
 “TY should be slow in setting down anything said to have 
 been done by Jesus as an idle tale,” answered Marcus gravely. 
 “He is an extraordinary man.” 
 
 “But you really do not believe he is working miracles like 
 those the Jews claim their old-time worthies performed?” 
 
 “YT cannot shut my eyes to the fact that he is doing exactly 
 thatoy : 
 
 “You astonish me. The man must have impressed you pro- 
 foundly. Tell me about him. Tell me all you know.” 
 
 Aristarchus’ interest had been thoroughly roused. His 
 question had been put to gratify his own curiosity. Zatthu 
 he had for the moment quite forgotten and he did not realize 
 how a second listener was eagerly waiting for Marcus’ answer. 
 
 “You know,” Marcus began, “how carefully I watch this 
 portion of the country where I am posted. When this Jesus 
 came here in the month of Adar, some three Sabbaths before 
 the Passover, I saw him one day walking with his brothers in 
 the street. I noted that they were strangers and I found out 
 who they were and where they lodged. So struck was I by 
 his face that several times I passed by the house where they 
 were stopping in the hope of seeing him again. This hap- 
 pened, and this second time I became still more sure that I 
 was looking at no ordinary man.” 
 
 “What was there about him that made you feel so?” 
 
 “His whole expression, but especially his eyes, the ten- 
 derest I have ever seen; yes, even more beautifully tender 
 than those of Naarah when she smiles upon her babe.” 
 
 “But that would seem to denote a countenance lacking in 
 strength.” ° 
 
 “His did not. There was majesty in his look and bearing.” 
 
 “Did you speak to him?” 
 
 “No. There was a dignity about him that discouraged it. 
 I only stood and scrutinized him closely, and that he did not 
 
PART IIT—THE DAWNING LIGHT 111 
 
 resent. He gave me in return a look that was all friendliness ; 
 but friendly though it was, I felt that his eyes were seeing into 
 my soul.” 
 
 “Were his brothers like him?” 
 
 “No; they seemed of a rougher mould — just like hun- 
 dreds of other decent Galilean men.” 
 
 “That, you say, was last Adar. What has he been doing 
 since?” 
 
 “So much was I interested in him that I have kept watch 
 on his movements — an easy thing for me, you know, with the 
 service I can command. Just before Passover he went to 
 Jerusalem, and there he acted like one of the Jewish prophets 
 of old. With a scourge he drove the money-changers and 
 their animals out of the temple and upset their tables. This 
 made feeling against him and he came back to Galilee through 
 Samaria where he was hospitably received, and in the city of 
 Sychar he stopped for two days, a thing that would not make 
 the Pharisees of Jerusalem think any more favorably of him, 
 for you know they look down on the Samaritans. Going on 
 into Galilee, he naturally went first to his own city of Naza- 
 reth. But his own townsmen handled him rudely when he 
 spoke in their synagogue and so he came to Capernaum. 
 
 ‘And is he still here?” 
 
 “Here or in the country round about. He seems to have 
 made Capernaum his home.” 
 
 ‘“What does he do?” 
 
 “He preaches in the synagogues and talks to the people 
 wherever they gather together. Nor does he stop with heal- 
 ing their minds; he heals their bodies too.” 
 
 “Have you seen him do this?” 
 
 “Yes. The first Sabbath he was in Capernaum he spoke 
 in the synagogue, and when a man with a devil cried out 
 against him, he drove the devil out of him; and the same day 
 at sunset they brought sick people to him, outside of the city, 
 and he healed them all.” 
 
112 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “You really saw this with your own eyes?” 
 
 “With my own eyes, Aristarchus. But I see you don’t be- 
 lieve what I say, so I will tell you no more.” 
 
 “No, no! Not so fast! I doubt, but I don’t deny. I am 
 trying to look at it as Socrates would have done. He did not 
 set a thing down as impossible because it was unusual. But 
 unusual you must admit such things to be.” 
 
 “Altogether so. Yet what religion is there that does not 
 claim to have wrought them? Not that of your country or 
 of mine.” 
 
 “True. But to claim is not to prove. Let us leave such 
 questions, though. Socrates and Plato could not settle them. 
 You and I shall not. I want to know more of this Jesus of 
 Nazareth. You say his brothers were like the men we see 
 every day. How about his father and mother? Do you know 
 anything about them?” 
 
 “Very little. They were humble toilers, I believe. I am 
 told that the father was a carpenter and Jesus worked with 
 him at this trade.” 
 
 “Hm. A carpenter’s son. And what sort of friends does 
 he make? Is it the common people only that flock to him?” 
 
 “Fis friends are of the people — fishermen, and even publi- 
 cans. It is the people that follow him about and hang upon 
 his words.” 
 
 “Fim, hm, hm. Marcus, you are the queerest Roman patri- 
 cian that ever walked the seven-hilled city. At Rome you made 
 friends with gladiators and wine-bibbers and married a Jewess 
 though your father warned you it would spoil your career. 
 And here in this Hebrew country no sooner does a man turn 
 up who draws the common herd about him and makes enemies 
 of the priests and Pharisees and traders than you extol him 
 and take him at his own rating. Next you’ll be throwing your 
 sword into the Lake of Galilee and running after him.” 
 
 “You have lived much longer than I have, Aristarchus. 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 1138 
 
 Haven’t you found it unwise to prophesy what any man will 
 do or not do?” 
 
 “Of course I was but jesting. But seriously, are you not 
 afraid this man will lead the people astray and stir up a 
 rebellion?” 
 
 “T cannot associate that face of innocence and gentleness 
 with violence. No, he will not cause any uprising.” 
 
 “But if he did? Should you suppress it?” 
 
 “Yes, unless I were a part of it.” 
 
 “What do you mean? You could never be a traitor — you, 
 Marcus, the son of the Prefect of Rome!”’ 
 
 “No, I could never be a traitor. I could never draw my 
 sword against Rome. I could believe however that a power 
 not of this world was arrayed against the mightiest power 
 that is in this world.” 
 
 “You talk in riddles.” 
 
 “Dol? Let me tell you a thing that happened in my own 
 home while you were away. Perhaps you will understand 
 me better then. Yet I doubt if I ought to tell the story. I 
 cannot make it mean much if I tell it briefly, and I have 
 already talked too long, I fear.” 
 
 “T am not tired. Give me your story and do not 
 shorten it.” 
 
114 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 xX 
 
 ‘You inquired after Naarah and the children. ‘There is 
 one in my household about whom you did not ask.” 
 
 “Oh, your big ex-gladiator, Hacho. No, I never thought 
 of inquiring after such a lusty fellow as him. Surely nothing 
 has gone amiss with him.” 
 
 “Yes, strange as it-may seem. He was taken suddenly 
 with a creeping palsy that seemed to paralyze one member 
 after another. I call it creeping, but it crept so fast that we 
 were very soon alarmed. ‘Three days after it fastened itself 
 upon him he had to take to his bed. Already his limbs were 
 nearly useless. It seemed as if the disease would surely make 
 its way to his lungs and heart and the life would end. 
 
 “‘Naarah and I were deeply distressed. If Hacho had been 
 of the blood of either of us, I do not think we could have 
 cared for him more. You know his character yourself — 
 always faithful, always kind, always gentle, always brave. 
 No man ever had a better servant. 
 
 “So grieved was Naarah that she stood with the tears in 
 her eyes and begged me to do something. 
 
 “ “What can I do?? I said. ‘We have tried every physician 
 in the city and they are all helpless.’ 
 
 ‘“* “Go and find Jesus. Something tells me that he will cure 
 him.’ 
 
 “A wise thought that sprang from a woman’s sympathy. 
 Why it had not occurred to me to do this, I do not know. 
 I suppose it was because our minds are fettered by experi- 
 ence; and experience does not teach us to lock for a miracle 
 when our bodies are ailing. But hope sprang up in me as 
 soon as Naarah spoke of Jesus. On the instant I started out 
 to find him. 
 
 “People that I met near my door told me he had been seen 
 just outside of the city and that he had been working won- 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 115 
 
 derful cures there. Eagerly I made my way in the direction 
 pointed out. The sun was shining brightly. So soft and 
 sweet was the air that it seemed to give peace to the mind. 
 All, I felt, would be well. 
 
 “Hurrying on I caught sight of Jesus and those with him 
 just as I reached the edge of the city. As usual he was 
 attended by a few of the curious as well as by those whom 
 he has chosen to follow him. Joy was in my heart. I was 
 about to quicken my step and make my plea for Hacho as 
 soon as I was near enough to him, when I saw that which 
 made me stand still. A man made his way toward Jesus. 
 That he was a leper was plain, for every one shrank away 
 from him. Boldly however he went forward because of the 
 faith that was in him. He knelt at the feet of Jesus and I 
 was not too far away to hear him cry out in a voice that 
 filled me with pity, so earnest, so agonizing were its tones, 
 
 * ‘Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.’ 
 
 “And through the still air, while a hush as of death was 
 upon all those that stood around, I heard the clear, calm 
 words of Jesus, 
 
 *¢*T will; be thou clean.’ 
 
 “He stretched out his hand. The healing came. It came 
 in an instant, for the man rose at once and lifted his hands 
 toward heaven to give thanks to God. But as if the thing 
 he had done was nothing, Jesus started on again and came 
 toward me with a calm majestic tread. 
 
 “I did not go to meet him. I stood still. For I was awed. 
 I was overwhelmed with feelings I know not how to describe. 
 Who was this Jesus and whence had he this strange power? 
 Surely, from no one but Jehovah. The voice that created 
 heaven and earth was speaking through this lofty man. I 
 must obey it. Yes, I, raised to authority by Rome, must bow 
 to an authority far mightier than that of Rome. So as 
 Jesus drew near to me I felt myself to be but as a child. 
 
 “Tt was not till he was close to me that I spoke. Then I 
 
116 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 looked into his eyes — ah! how tender and mild they were! — 
 and cried, 
 
 “ “Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, griev- 
 ously tormented.’ 
 
 “With a wonderful look of compassion, he answered at 
 once, 
 
 **T will come and heal him.” . 
 
 “And then it was that my sense of the man’s holiness grew 
 overpowering, bewildering. I, a man who ordered others, was 
 in the presence of one who was fit to rule the whole world by 
 the power that was given him from above. And so I answered, 
 scarce knowing what I said, 
 
 ‘TY am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my 
 roof; but speak the word only, and my servant shall be 
 healed. For I am a man under authority, having soldiers 
 under me; and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to 
 another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, 
 and he doeth it.’ 
 
 “A look that might be of wonderment came into his eyes 
 as I said these words, and he turned to those about him 
 and said, 
 
 “ “Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, 
 no, not in Israel.’ 
 
 “Then looking at me, he added, ‘Go thy way; and as thou 
 hast believed, so be it done unto thee.’ 
 
 ‘Then he went on his way, while I stood still as if a spell 
 was upon me till he and his followers had all passed by. For 
 some moments I stood watching them, the errand that had 
 brought me there altogether forgotten. I could only think 
 of that calm and holy presence, the wondrous compassion of 
 the eyes that had looked into mine, the effortless assertion 
 of a superhuman power. 
 
 “But soon they turned into a side street and were lost to 
 view, and then I came to myself and thought of Hacho. Was 
 he really healed? Surely he was. I could not doubt, for had 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT Bid?) 
 
 not Jesus said it should be done unto me even as I had be- 
 lieved? I should find him well — him, Hacho, whom I had 
 left with the breath of life scarcely in him. 
 
 “So I started home and in my eagerness to see with my 
 own eyes this miracle of healing that I knew had been accom- 
 plished, I broke into a run. I see you smile, but it was even 
 so. I, Marcus, the centurion, with the weight of Rome’s dig- 
 nity upon my shoulders, ran through the streets of Caperna- 
 um like a boy. 
 
 “And it had all happened exactly as I foresaw. Naa 
 was watching for me. As I drew near the house she stood in 
 the doorway with the tears in her eyes; but this time they 
 were tears of joy and her face was all sunshine. For there 
 was Hacho standing beside her, as well and sound as when 
 he used to stand in the arena at Rome. He bounded out into 
 the street before I reached the house, and the tears were in 
 his eyes too as he took my hand, and in spite of my holding it 
 back he carried it to his lips. 
 
 “You gave me my freedom,’ he said with more reverence 
 than any other man had ever shown me, ‘and now you have 
 given me my life. And alas, I can only serve you as I have 
 always done.’ 
 
 “That is enough, Hacho,’ I said, ‘and more than enough. 
 Happy is the master who commands service such as yours.’ 
 
 “Then I went into the house and learned that the cure 
 came in an instant and at what must have been the very time 
 when I was asking Jesus to heal him without coming under 
 my roof. The word that had been spoken was enough. The 
 disease was silently bidden to depart and it vanished even as 
 an evil dream goes when one wakes from a troubled sleep. 
 
 ““And now one question before I go. Those ruffians who 
 attacked you— was there among them a man of distin- 
 guished presence and bearing who would not seem properly 
 to belong to the robber class?” 
 
 “T noted no such man. Why do you ask?” 
 
118 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Because one Zatthu, a Pharisee of Jerusalem, who had 
 been stirrmg up trouble there, escaped from prison at 
 Cxsarea a while ago and no one knows what has become of 
 him. Some believe he has joined a gang of robbers; so I 
 thought it worth while to inquire if you observed a man of 
 his stamp in the crew that assaulted you. I am myself of 
 the opinion that he has gone back to Jerusalem and is in 
 hiding there.” 
 
 “Was it there that he was first arrested and made 
 prisoner?” 
 
 “Yes; a little while before the Passover,” 
 
 “Would he not then fear to return where he must be well 
 known?” 
 
 “Yes, if he were to continue his troublesome activity and 
 show himself in public. But plotting seems to be his occupa- 
 tion, and he could plot in secret there with those who are 
 eager for Rome’s overthrow.”’ 
 
 “You speak as if they might possibly accomplish it.” 
 
 “No, they could never accomplish it. Rome is too strong 
 for them. But they are fierce zealots and some day there 
 may be a mighty uprising here. The Jews are restless under 
 our rule and sedition makers like Zatthu need to be watched. 
 But farewell; and may you soon be on your feet again.” 
 
 “Farewell, but do not wait for that to come about. Come 
 soon.” 
 
PART I1—THE DAWNING LIGHT TiS 
 
 XI 
 
 “In my heart, though, I am not so eager to have him come 
 again right away,” said Aristarchus as Zatthu came forth 
 from his place of concealment after Marcus had gone. “My 
 friend the centurion asked me some questions I had to dodge 
 as best I could. But I evaded them and you see he had no 
 suspicion that you are in Capernaum.” 
 
 “Tt grieved me that you had to evade. He is your friend, 
 and with a friend one does not like to be anything but frank.” 
 
 “We shall be friends through everything. Never fear. 
 And what do you think of him?” 
 
 “He is plainly upright and kind. But I cannot respect his 
 judgment and clear-sightedness as you do. JHe is too 
 credulous.” 
 
 ‘Because he sees virtue in the man Jesus?” 
 
 “Because, first of all, he seems to have failed to under- 
 stand that fanatical John the Baptist. A wretched impostor 
 he is. I went out from Jerusalem to hear him myself. A 
 slanderous talker I found him to be; a man who wins favor 
 with the common people by abusing those who are their 
 natural leaders.” 
 
 “You may be right. All that I have heard about him has 
 made me believe him a man of sincerity and courage.” 
 
 “Your judgment is too generous. Such men do only harm. 
 They turn the people to folly and unsettle their minds. And 
 this Jesus of Nazareth is plainly a man of just that sort.” 
 
 “Do you feel sure of that without having ever seen him?” 
 
 “Perfectly sure. All that your friend Marcus said con- 
 firmed me in my opinion. And he himself seems to look at 
 men through his sympathy and to take them at their own 
 estimate of themselves.” 
 
 “You would be far from saying that if you knew him well. 
 
120 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 He is the keenest reader of men I have ever been acquainted 
 with.” 
 
 “I find it hard to believe it. He shows mere weakness in so 
 bowing down to this Jesus, this son of a carpenter. Why, 
 he speaks of him as if he were a god!” 
 
 ‘Perhaps he is.” 
 
 “What? Are you so credulous too?” 
 
 “Not credulous; only willing, like our Socrates, to keep 
 the mind open to what is new and strange.” 
 
 “Marcus the centurion I call truly credulous. He believes 
 what his impulses and emotions tell him to believe. That cure 
 of his servant was certainly imagined. The disease left the 
 man suddenly as diseases often do and it was thought a 
 miracle.” 
 
 “He says he has seen Jesus perform many acts of healing 
 and the people are all believing in him in consequence.” 
 
 “That is what distresses me. The people are so easily won 
 over by false teachers. They went in crowds after John the 
 Baptist. Now they are following this son of a carpenter 
 because they think he can cure their diseases. It makes me 
 unhappy. How can they be made to follow their true leaders 
 against Rome when they listen to the voices of vulgar 
 fanatics?” 
 
 “I do not wonder at your distress of mind. It would be 
 hard indeed if your plans should be upset by a false prophet 
 who led the people astray. But do not let yourself be down- 
 hearted till you have seen this man yourself and formed your 
 own opinion of him.” 
 
 “That I must do, and I must do it quickly. It would be 
 dangerous to linger long in Capernaum with such a man as 
 this centurion on the lookout for me, even if he does think I 
 am now at Jerusalem.” 
 
 “As I have told you before, I do not think you need hurry 
 away. Bewary; that is all.” 
 
 “Be wary! Advice, alas, that is only too good and sound. 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 121 
 
 The man who would free his country from a hated rule must 
 always be wary till the day of open conflict comes. What 
 escapes I shall have, what pursuers I shall need to throw off, 
 what hiding places I shall seek, how long I shall be hunted 
 and how many times betrayed, no one can say. But the 
 loyalty of your own friendship I shall never doubt. Once 
 more from my heart I thank you for it. Still, I must not 
 remain here and by chance bring you and myself also into 
 trouble. I will seek out the leaders of my people here and 
 confer with them. I will try to find this man Jesus and judge 
 him by what I hear him say and see him do. Then I must go 
 from place to place in Galilee and make my people ready for 
 the swelling of Jordan.” 
 
 ‘‘And when the river rises, may it sweep your enemies 
 away 1” 
 
122. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XIT 
 
 Zatthu left his host’s bedside to seek acquaintance among 
 his own people in the city. First, however, he went to the 
 house where Kelita and Shobek were lodging. From them 
 he would fain get knowledge of this strange man who seemed 
 to have risen like a threatening cloud on the horizon of his 
 own activity. 
 
 He found his two friends. Yes, they had heard of Jesus. 
 They had indeed heard much about him. He was in the 
 mouths of all Capernaum. 
 
 ‘‘Why then did you not speak of him this morning?” was 
 Zatthu’s inquiry. 
 
 “My one thought was for your safety,” answered Kelita. 
 “Moreover, I think but poorly of him. His day will soon 
 pass.” 
 
 “Have you seen him?” 
 
 “Just once. Shobek and I met him as he and a crowd of 
 his followers were entering the city. He had been to some 
 neighboring town and was coming back to his home here. 
 A throng gathered about him as soon as he was seen ap- 
 proaching. If he had been a king he couldn’t have caused 
 more clamor and excitement. But give no thought to him. 
 He hasn’t it in him to head a great movement or to be a 
 leader.” 
 
 ‘“‘Why do you think so?” 
 
 “He has no power. I cannot think of him as like Moses, 
 or Joshua, or Saul. He is too mild.” 
 
 “‘HYe has power to make the people flock to him.” 
 
 “Yes, like sheep; the multitudes who are blind and easily 
 led.” 
 
 ‘They think he heals them of their diseases.” 
 
 “They will soon find out they were mistaken and fall away 
 from him.” 
 
 bf 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 123 
 
 “Perhaps they are not mistaken,” interposed Shobek. 
 
 “Do you believe in him?” asked Zatthu searchingly. 
 
 “T believe him to be great and good, and no impostor.” 
 
 “You would leave me for him — for him, the son of a car- 
 penter?” 
 
 “To not say it! Do not think it! I would die for you and 
 the cause.” 
 
 “But if you had to choose between him and me?” 
 
 “That could never be. He is not like you. He is trying to 
 make the people live better lives. He would never lead them 
 to rise against Rome.” 
 
 “But he is doing great mischief. He is drawing to himself 
 the very people I must win to make the cause succeed. Upon 
 you, Shobek, I fear he has cast a spell. But I must go 
 among the Pharisees and the elders of the synagogue and 
 learn what they think of this man who would make us believe 
 he wields the rod of Moses.” 
 
 Exactly this Zatthu now began to do, though he proceeded 
 warily; for Rome’s spies were everywhere and he had to 
 remember that at Jerusalem some of his own countrymen had 
 been corrupted by Roman gold. So it was only to a few 
 Hebrews of established repute and character that he reveale 
 his identity. | 
 
 The house to which he went first was that of Baruch, a 
 synagogue elder and a partner in a thriving business. The 
 business was indeed the same as that conducted by Zatthu’s 
 brother; and the two houses had long had an intimate asso- 
 ciation. But Baruch had, like Zatthu, a brother who took 
 upon himself all commercial dealings; and Baruch was thus 
 left free to devote most of his time to scholarly pursuits to 
 which his somewhat indolent nature had always been inclined. 
 But Zatthu’s name strongly stirred him and his greeting was 
 most hearty. 
 
 “Y am delighted to see you,” he exclaimed, when Zatthu 
 was ushered into his presence. ‘This is an honor indeed. If 
 
124 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 in any way I can serve you, you have only to let me know. 
 Your brother has sent me word that you are to have whatever 
 you may need in the way of money.” 
 
 “Money. Money,” said Zatthu slowly. “I have deeper 
 needs than money.” 
 
 “And those too I would gladly satisfy,” said Baruch, more 
 eagerly than thoughtfully or prudently. 
 
 “Then you believe in the cause to which I am giving all 
 my heart and life?” 
 
 Baruch did not answer at once. Zatthu measured him 
 while he sat silent and slightly embarrassed. He was a 
 middle-aged man, with a kindly eye and features that be- 
 tokened a reflective rather than a resolute mind. His face 
 indeed bore the stamp of his sedentary ways. “He is well 
 named Baruch and not Barak,” thought Zatthu. “He may 
 be ‘blessed,’ but he will never be as a ‘thunder-bolt’? to the 
 enemies of Israel.” 
 
 “Yes, surely I believe in the cause,” presently came Ba- 
 ruch’s answer. ‘‘Every true patriot must believe that our 
 nation is to be freed from Roman tyranny. But the time? 
 The time? The young lion might be gored on the horns of 
 the wild ox. He must have his growth to make all creatures 
 fear him.” 
 
 ‘And Israel has had two thousand years to grow in.” 
 
 “True. True. But this is a troublous question. My own 
 wisdom is not fit to cope with it. Shall I not go and bring 
 others whose opinions are weightier than mine?” 
 
 “By all means. But shall I not go with you?” 
 
 “Nothing escapes Rome’s eyes. Better not be seen on the 
 streets with me. I shall come back speedily. Meanwhile my 
 house is yours.” 
 
 Left to himself Zatthu thought not without amusement 
 that Baruch had ill-concealed his real anxiety. Plainly he 
 was afraid of being seen in public with a man whom the Ro- 
 mans were eager to capture and put to death. But he was 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 125 
 
 too thoroughly used to men and their ways to be perturbed, 
 and he had not long to wait. Baruch shortly returned with 
 three companions, all of them manifestly men of rank and 
 dignity, and one of them of winning and noble presence. 
 Hardly thirty, he seemed already to have acquired the weight 
 and authority that belongs to matured wisdom and solid 
 worth of character. 
 
 “This is my friend Joiada,” said Baruch; “and with him 
 are Meremoth and Hariph. They have all been only too glad 
 to come and greet Zatthu to whom our whole nation is look- 
 ing in these troublous days.” 
 
 “Glad indeed we are,” said Joiada, grasping Zatthu warmly 
 by the hand. ‘Unfortunate you have been; but your courage 
 is equal to that of the great Maccabees.” 
 
 “And that you will not always be unfortunate, we earnestly 
 hope and pray,” added Meremoth, as he and Hariph also 
 warmly greeted Zatthu. 
 
 - “But it is more than hopes and prayers that I need,” was 
 the instant answer. “I need to find Israel standing as one 
 man behind me. Shall I really find it so?” 
 
 “Tet us all be seated and discuss this great question at our 
 leisure,” remarked Baruch. “TI will have wine brought and 
 its cheer will mellow and ripen our wisdom.” 
 
 All seated themselves and Baruch continued to talk in a 
 light vein till the wine was served. Already Zatthu read mild 
 disapproval in the minds of these countrymen whose support 
 he ardently desired; and his host’s genial chatter was a thin 
 disguise of a fact already patent. But Zatthu was never 
 daunted by lack of sympathy and never anything but direct 
 in his appeals for faith and devotion. ‘Turning to Joiada 
 he said, 
 
 “No one of you has answered my question. Will you not 
 tell me whether you think I can unite all Israel against 
 Rome?” 
 
 “T do not believe you can,” was the firm but quiet answer. 
 
126 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 “Why not?” 
 
 ‘“Rome’s hand is heavy. Israel will not invite it to smite 
 till she does not fear the blow.” 
 
 ‘The blow need not be feared.” 
 
 “What will be Israel’s shield?” 
 
 “Jehovah.” 
 
 “Amen,” said Joiada, reverently bowing his head. “TI 
 honor your faith. If I had it, I would follow wherever you 
 led.” 
 
 “‘Kivery true son of Israel ought to have it. It must come. 
 It is the only thing needed to make Jehovah blast our ene- 
 mies.” 
 
 “Tt will not come till we have turned from our evil ways. 
 We are too proud. We are too corrupt. What we need is 
 one to make us humble and lead us into better ways; and the 
 leader has come.” 
 
 “Whore” 
 
 “Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 “Do you believe in that son of a carpenter?” 
 
 ey do.’’ 
 
 “But he scorns our men of weight and learning and makes 
 friends with the common and unclean!” 
 
 “As Jehovah would do perhaps were he here among us.” 
 
 *““But surely he deludes the people.” 
 
 *“No, he only heals their diseases.” 
 
 “Do you really believe he does?” 
 
 **T know he does, for I have seen him.” 
 
 “The Pharisees at Jerusalem spurned him.” 
 
 “Not all. My cousin Nicodemus honored and revered him.” 
 
 “Is Nicodemus the Pharisee your cousin?” 
 
 “He is. Do you know him?” 
 
 “Not intimately; well enough to admire him. He is sound 
 of judgment, honest and upright.” 
 
 “Did he give you support?” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 127 
 
 “Not actively. I am sure he was not hostile to my pur- 
 pose.” 
 
 “Y am convinced he would not now approve of it. He 
 thinks as I do, that our faith is to be increased not by raising 
 the standard of revolt, but by following a man of blameless 
 life hke Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 Not very much more was said. Joiada’s words made a 
 deep impression upon Zatthu. His mood had become reflec- 
 tive. His burning faith had lost a little of its glow. A few 
 further inquiries he made of Joiada in order to find how posi- 
 tive and direct was his knowledge of the cures that Jesus had 
 wrought. ‘To every question Joiada answered that he had 
 seen with his own eyes and that he knew he had not been mis- 
 taken or deceived. His plain, unequivocal statements seemed 
 to create a subdued and sober mood in all who were present, 
 and after a short time the gathering dispersed. When Zatthu 
 found himself alone with Baruch he availed himself of the 
 ready proffer of financal aid; for he could not but reflect that 
 the future was uncertain and might bring him into straits 
 that money would relieve. Then, well supplied with gold and 
 silver, he wended his way, by no means eagerly or exultantly, 
 to the mansion of his host. 
 
‘128 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 , xm 
 
 With the slow tread of one lost in meditation, Zatthu en- 
 tered the house so generously opened to him. Passing into 
 the atrium he saw Thisoa. She was seated by the fountain 
 and listening to its splashing waters. Their cooling sound 
 made this a favorite resort of hers on the hot summer days. 
 Here she was wont to bring a parchment roll and read, atten- 
 tively or listlessly as inclination bade. A scroll she had now, 
 but it was not engrossing her attention. She was letting it 
 rest in her lap and her thoughts were far away. 
 
 Instinctively Zatthu drew near to her. He did so as natu- 
 rally as the forest wanderer goes where he sees the light ap- 
 pearing through the trees. The laws of spiritual gravitation 
 may be made clear in a world less material than this. Here 
 men obey without always being conscious that they are 
 doing so. 
 
 Thisoa greeted him with a cordial smile, as he seated him- 
 self near her. | 
 
 “You look grave,” she said. ‘Will you not tell me what 
 is on your mind? Does your sacred cause not find due en- 
 couragement ?” 
 
 Zatthu was slow in replying and he looked musingly be- 
 fore him, not at Thisoa, as he said, 
 
 _“Would that the great Jehovah, who reads our thoughts 
 as an open book, would let us see and know others as He sees 
 and knows them.” 
 
 “Surely that would not be well for us. It would make us 
 gods, not men.” 
 
 “True, but sometimes it would so help us to be just.” 
 
 “And what mind would you now read and understand?” 
 
 “Have you heard of that strange man, Jesus of Nazareth?” 
 
 “Surely. Who in Capernaum, who I might say in Galilee, 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 129 
 
 has not heard of him? He, more than any one, was talked 
 about during the time my father was away.” 
 
 “And what have you heard?” 
 
 “That he healed the sick, the halt and the blind, and that 
 the people followed him wherever he went.” 
 
 “And how much of this have you believed?” 
 
 “Tittle. Next to nothing. People are easily deceived. 
 The power of Jesus will soon pass. It is you, not he, that is 
 to break the yoke that rests upon your nation.” 
 
 “It must be so. The elders here are said to view this man 
 with distrust. Yet some there are who believe in him. Some 
 have witnessed his cures and say there is no doubt whatever 
 that they were really performed.” 
 
 “Again I say, people are easily deceived. Believe in your- 
 self. Jesus is but for a day. He will not stand in the way of 
 your great mission.” 
 
 “In my heart I feel that to be true. Yet I would not be 
 -unjust. That is why I wished that Jehovah might some- 
 times pour light into our minds. If he is greater than I, 
 gladly would I follow him.” 
 
 “Why not seek him and measure him yourself?” 
 
 “That I must do. But I have to proceed with caution. 
 You know I am an outlaw.” 
 
 “True. But no one knows you here but your own elders 
 to whom you reveal yourself; and they will never betray 
 you. You will easily find opportunity to meet with Jesus 
 who is often in Capernaum. When you do so you will find, 
 I am sure, that he is not one whom you either have to dread 
 or to follow. Dismiss all apprehension from your mind and 
 tell me more of your people’s history. Their story is so 
 strange and wonderful I find it hard to believe it, and yet it 
 bears the stamp of truth.” 
 
 This was a request that Zatthu was only too willing to 
 grant. Long and eloquently he talked of his people’s past 
 to a rapt and unwearied listener. 
 
1380 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XIV 
 
 Justice and reform were never brothers. The reformer is 
 and should be the man of one idea. To look on both sides of 
 any and every question is not his habit; to look on both sides 
 of the cause to which he gives all his mind and all his heart 
 is more than can be asked of him. 
 
 And Zatthu had the reformer’s temper. His mind was 
 dominated and absorbed by his one great purpose. Yet that 
 he was not a bigot has been already shown. Had he been one 
 he would never have become Aristarchus’ guest, or conceived 
 so reverent a regard for his wife and daughter. The fiery 
 and unhallowed zeal which justifies every means that can 
 accomplish the wished-for end was indeed foreign to Zatthu’s 
 nature. His character was natively a noble one. It had 
 been elevated and broadened by the grand and austere figures 
 that illumined his people’s history. Moses’ sublime self- 
 abnegation, Samuel’s unwavering obedience to God’s voice 
 and David’s ready forgiveness of Saul’s blind rage and 
 jealousy, had deeply impressed his mind. 
 
 Hence it was that he could not countenance Kelita’s sum- 
 mary and vindictive methods. Hence it was that Shobek’s 
 deep-seated kindliness made a strong appeal to him. And 
 hence it was that he feared to judge harshly of the very 
 man he instinctively turned against and condemned. Jesus 
 of Nazareth was ever in his thoughts. The devotion caused 
 by this new leader naturally roused his jealousy, for Zatthu 
 was very human. When he overheard Marcus tell his strange 
 tale of healing, he could not help setting down the man who 
 was thought to have wrought the miracle as an imposter. 
 But this mood of resentment had, as we have seen, been suc- 
 ceeded by a humbler one. He had been wholly sincere in 
 telling Thisoa that he was ready to follow and not to lead if 
 that was Jehovah’s will. What he wanted was the truth. 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 131 
 
 If he could really find it, he could humble himself even as 
 David did when he bowed his sinful will to that of God who 
 rebuked him by taking away his son. 
 
 But how to find the truth? It was in search of it that he 
 went forth the morning after his conversation with Thisoa 
 by the plashing waters of the atrium. He would see and 
 talk with Jesus if he could. At any rate he would learn about 
 him from every one who could give him trustworthy informa- 
 tion. 
 
 Naturally however he thought of the Pharisees and the 
 synagogue elders of the city as those on whose opinions he 
 could best rely. It was with such that he had had converse 
 on the day before. If he had found irresolution instead of 
 stalwart courage, timidity instead of faith, and credulity in- 
 stead of penetration in the one man, Joiada, whose strength 
 of mind had most impressed him, this was nothing more than 
 he must be prepared for. It was the part of the man of faith 
 to make his own illumination scatter the clouds of doubt. 
 
 He did not now succeed in finding Jesus himself. Jesus, 
 as he learned regretfully, was somewhere in the neighboring 
 country, teaching and healing as was his wont. It was from 
 a common toiler whom he accosted in the street that he 
 learned this. The man had met him while coming from his 
 little farm to sell figs in the city. The rustic seemed intelli- 
 gent. Zatthu thought it worth while to question him. 
 
 “Have you ever listened to this man Jesus?” he inquired. 
 
 “Yes; and I would gladly listen again.” 
 
 “Why so?” 
 
 “Fis words are good. ‘They sounded to me as if our great 
 Jehovah had put them into his mouth.” 
 
 ‘And have you seen him heal those that were ailing? They 
 say he does this.” 
 
 ‘They say truly. My neighbor Uel has had the palsy for 
 seven years. Jesus touched him and at once he became well 
 
182 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 and sound. And he cured my sister Deborah of a fever by 
 laying hands upon her.” 
 
 “These cures you have seen with your own eyes?” 
 
 “With my own eyes.” 
 
 ‘“Have you seen a leper cleansed?” 
 
 “No, but I am sure he could do it.” 
 
 Zatthu turned and went upon his way. Was not this last - 
 remark significant? he thought. Did it not even go far to 
 explain the belief of Joiada in the cures of Jesus? People, he 
 reflected, believe what they wish to believe — not realizing 
 that he himself was illustrating this very truth. This farmer 
 he had talked with had been won by Jesus’ manner of speech 
 and had come to believe in him blindly. Had not Joiada done 
 the same? He was beginning to think so in spite of the fact 
 that Joiada had the day previous impressed him as a man of 
 discerning and independent mind. 
 
 Thus ready to be confirmed in what he wanted to believe, 
 he found his way to the house of a synagogue elder whom he 
 knew to be expecting him. Baruch had advised him by all 
 means to confer with Rehum, a man of great weight and 
 influence in the synagogue. To make a meeting possible 
 Baruch had promised to go to him and ask him to remain at 
 home this morning. 
 
 Positive indeed Zatthu instantly saw his character to be. 
 Rehum was a man of aggressive and dominating personality. 
 Large of stature, erect, well formed, he carried himself among 
 men as a mastiff goes among dogs too small to be worthy of 
 serious notice. Failure to agree with him caused him sur- 
 prise; opposition roused his resentment. Yet his face showed 
 cunning as well as strength. The keen bright eye was always 
 searching others as if to find weakness of which it could take 
 advantage. 
 
 So thoroughly virile was the man’s presence that Zatthu 
 felt as if he had received a challenge the moment he entered 
 the house and Rehum stood before him. His doubting and 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 133 
 
 reflective mood, already on the way to changing, now van- 
 ished almost as quickly as a breath of vapor on a wintry 
 morning. Here was an Israelite to be conquered and sub- 
 dued. This will that clearly warred for self must be made to 
 war for Jehovah. The meeting of the two men brought con- 
 flict as inevitably as the meeting of two skilled swordsmen 
 fighting on opposing sides. 
 
 “Welcome,” exclaimed Rehum, “right welcome is Zatthu 
 to this humble abode. The eagle whose wing is broken may 
 well hide from the hunter in the dove’s house.” 
 
 Zatthu could have smiled at the mock humility of this 
 speech had not the implied taunt nettled him. Meeting 
 steadily the scrutinizing gaze that was fixed upon him, he 
 replied, 
 
 “And what of the hunter who faces the angry lion weapon- 
 less?” 
 
 “A tree perhaps gives safety.” 
 
 “No, Jehovah.” 
 
 So solemnly were these words uttered that Rehum could 
 but bow his head. As he lifted it the look he gave his visitor 
 showed more of curiosity than of arrogance. It was an 
 unwonted experience for him to be forced into showing respect 
 for another’s speech. What manner of man was this who had 
 so quickly put him half in the wrong? Motioning Zatthu to 
 a seat with more of respect than his manner often showed, 
 he said courteously, 
 
 “Jehovah would indeed seem to have protected you. The 
 story of your escape from prison I have heard. It was won- 
 derful.” 4, 
 
 “If we do Jehovah’s will, we may expect wonders.” 
 
 “And you are doing it?” came the query with a return of 
 the native arrogance. 
 
 “ey amie 
 
 “Then will Jehovah surely give you success.” 
 
 “Not while men like you stand aside and doubt. Not even 
 
1384 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Moses could enter the promised land on account of the 
 people’s rebelliousness and lack of faith.” 
 
 “Moses became Israel’s leader after he had seen the burn- 
 ing bush. Have you seen one?” 
 
 ‘“No, nor did David see one ere he faced Goliath. Yet was 
 David called to destroy Israel’s enemy. So am I.” 
 
 “You are quite sure?” 
 
 The moment Rehum put this question Zatthu felt that he 
 had triumphed. This man whose wont it was to browbeat 
 was for the moment not aggressive. He was like one who in 
 a sword bout parries instead of thrusts. To be sure there 
 was irony in his query. Still, it opened the way for an attack. 
 The attack was vigorously made. 
 
 “Yes, I am sure,” replied Zatthu with flashing eye and 
 voice not loud but charged with feeling. ‘My call is that of 
 David. It comes from the God of our nation. He it is that 
 has made me see Israel lie bleeding at the feet of Rome. He 
 it is that has bade me count her cruel wounds and mourn for 
 her vanished glory and her lost dominion. He it is that has 
 bade me put courage in her heart and raise her to her feet. 
 And the faith I have, the unshakable faith that Jehovah Him- 
 self will smite the Romans as He smote the Egyptians long 
 ago —- whence comes it? It comes only from Jehovah. He 
 has planted this conviction in my heart as surely as He made 
 Deborah know that the Canaanites would flee before the son 
 of Abinoam. Israel has only to rise and her enemies will be 
 scattered. And they who work this great deliverance will be 
 of the Lord’s chosen ones. To them will He give honor and 
 a name that Israel will cherish from generation to genera- 
 TOD, 
 
 Zatthu had triumphed. He had struck the right chord. 
 Rehum was none the less a patriot because he was overbear- 
 ing. His hatred of Rome was fanatical. To see this alien 
 power overthrown was his ardent longing. It was not indeed 
 a wholly unselfish one. He was exceedingly ambitious. All 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 185 
 
 his life he had coveted high station and renown. And here 
 was a man who might give him his desire. As Zatthu spoke 
 he was impressed by his power. He could not afford to have 
 him anything but a friend. Hardly had he concluded when 
 Rehum said, deliberately but with unmistakable sincerity, 
 
 “T truly believe that you have been called by Jehovah. 
 You are to restore Israel to greatness. I will stand by your 
 side when the time is ripe. Every Hebrew patriot must do 
 the same.” 
 
 “They must. They must. When the hour comes how can 
 they hold aloof? And yet only yesterday I found lukewarm- 
 ness, I might almost say condemnation, right here in Ca- 
 pernaum.” 
 
 “Who could have been so faint-hearted, so unloyal?” 
 
 “Baruch, Meremoth, Hariph, and above all Joiada.” 
 
 “And why should Joiada, a man by no means weak or fal- 
 tering, be so perverse?” 
 
 “He believes we are down-trodden because of our sins. He 
 looks to Jesus, the carpenter’s son, to turn us to repentance 
 and upbuild our nation.” 
 
 A frown came over Rehum’s face. 
 
 “Jesus the carpenter’s son! Jesus of Nazareth!’ he ex- 
 claimed in tones full of scorn and bitterness. “Is it possible 
 that Joiada is misled by that impostor? He is deceiving the 
 ignorant unwashed multitudes, but I should not have expected 
 aman of Joiada’s clear strong mind to be thus deluded. I am 
 indeed surprised. I must see him and convince him of his 
 error.” 
 
 “Then you believe Jesus is a man himself deluded and 
 deluding others?” 
 
 “Deluding? Yes, basely and wickedly deluding all who 
 will listen to him. But deluded? No! He is scheming to 
 exalt himself by profaning what is sacred. He is false. He 
 is a menace to our nation.” 
 
 “Pray give me your grounds for thinking so.” 
 
186 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Say rather for knowing so; for there is not the smallest 
 doubt in my mind about it. Yes, I will do so gladly. If you 
 have any feeling whatever that there is aught in this deceiver 
 to commend or to admire, I would fain destroy it utterly.” 
 
 Thereupon Rehum launched into a full and scathing review 
 of what Jesus had said and done in and about Capernaum. 
 Into this story was poured the high-caste Hebrew’s scorn of 
 the lowly man who was not imbued with the spirit of ancient 
 usage and tradition. ~The tradition was sacred. Redemp- 
 tion could only come through absolute obedience to its be- 
 hests. To violate it was to sin against Jehovah. And this 
 Jesus whom the people were running after held it as naught. 
 How quickly and how terribly were those punished who 
 treated lightly the Ark of the Covenant! Time had passed. 
 The Ark and the Temple of Solomon that held it had vanished 
 from the earth. But the spirit of Jehovah which made the 
 Ark a holy thing was in the Law that Jehovah himself had 
 spoken to His chosen people. This law the man of Nazareth 
 held in contempt. In thus dealing with it he was as truly 
 guilty of profanation as those who had wantonly handled the 
 Ark in the days of old. Such sacrilege was sure to be pun- 
 ished. All those who were led astray by this man’s teachings 
 would sometime atone for their folly. 
 
 Long was the story. Rehum had an intimate knowledge 
 of the doings of Jesus. He knew what places he visited; 
 what company he kept; what discourses he held; and what 
 cures and miracles he was believed to have performed. His 
 life as it was then being lived was minutely scrutinized; and 
 a false coloring was given to every word he uttered and every 
 deed he did. 
 
 But to Zatthu the coloring seemed true. He listened with 
 rapt attention and with an ever growing conviction that he 
 was finding the true explanation of this strange and puzzling 
 career. ‘The man of Nazareth could be nothing but an im- 
 postor. To think of him as a leader who could heal and lift 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 137 
 
 up the nation was mere folly. Joiada and all who thought 
 with him would some day find this out to their great sorrow. 
 They were misguided men, to be pitied because they were so 
 blind. 
 
 The long interview ended, Zatthu and Rehum parted as 
 friends. Each felt that he had an ally and a helper in the 
 other, though the help that Zatthu proffered was for his 
 people solely, while Rehum mingled thoughts of self-advance- 
 ment with patriotic hopes and aspirations. 
 
1388 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XV 
 
 From Rehum Zatthu went directly to the house of his host. 
 Reaching and entering it he proceeded to the atrium as he 
 had done on the day before. Hardly did he expect to see 
 Thisoa again sitting there; yet he was disappointed not to 
 find her. There were things that he greatly wished to say to 
 her. ‘The conversation they had had was to be resumed. Be- 
 fore, she had been positive, he doubtful. Now, it would be 
 the other way. He, the man, would be positive, aggressively 
 so, as a man should be. She, the woman, could now but 
 acquiesce in his own deep-rooted and unshakable convictions. 
 
 He seated himself by the fountain, but he was hardly con- 
 scious of the tinkling of its waters. His mind was on the 
 interview with Rehum and on his great purpose which that 
 interview had so mightily strengthened. But even while he 
 was thinking over what had passed between himself and the 
 zealous Hebrew elder, Thisoa appeared. Seeing Zatthu, she 
 went to him at once. She opened her mouth to speak, and 
 then stopped. Such a look of satisfaction and self-confidence 
 did Zatthu give her that she could not but contrast his man- 
 ner and bearing with that she had noted the day before. He 
 did not himself speak; and after a moment of keen observa- 
 tion she said, 
 
 “You are no longer in doubt. Your mind is made up. I 
 can see that plainly. Pray tell me your thought, then, if it 
 is not too sacred to be revealed.” 
 
 “I was wishing to tell it to you. I was wishing to take up 
 again what was said between us yesterday about the man 
 Jesus. You were right. He is but for a day. He is un- 
 worthy to lead our nation.” 
 
 “I am so rejoiced that you can be sure of this and see your 
 own way clearly. But are you willing to tell me what has 
 brought you to think thus?” 
 
 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 139 
 
 “The things seen and heard by one of our Pharisees here. 
 He is a man thoroughly true to our sacred laws and he is 
 shocked and outraged by the things that Jesus does.” 
 
 ‘“‘What manner of things?” 
 
 “He mingles freely with publicans and sinners. He even 
 sits down and eats with them.” 
 
 “Ts that a bad thing to do?” 
 
 ‘How can you ask?” said Zatthu, looking at her in aston- 
 ishment. ‘‘And yet,” he quickly added, “I forgot. You are 
 not one of us. You do not know how rigid are the laws given 
 us by Moses. ‘They were made known to him by Jehovah 
 Himself who chose us to be His own people and who wished 
 to keep us pure from all contamination with unclean and 
 idolatrous tribes. It is from ourselves that our redemption 
 and deliverance must come. The man who is to raise us up 
 and lead us to new greatness must not only be a Hebrew of 
 the Hebrews; he must gather about him only those of his 
 own race. To parley with publicans and sinners, to make 
 friends with them, eat with them and use them to win power, 
 is nothing less than to be a traitor to Judea.” 
 
 “T suppose you are right. But if these men would lift the 
 sword against Rome, why not win them and use them?” 
 
 “Because they could not be true patriots. They are not of 
 God’s chosen ones. ‘They would betray us in the hour of 
 need.” 
 
 *‘And Jesus makes friends with them as readily as with his 
 own people?” 
 
 “Even more readily. He seems even to prefer to sit at 
 table with them and thus cast a slight upon the Pharisees 
 who ought to be his chosen companions.” 
 
 ““And some of these men you say are evil?” 
 
 “Yes; men who are careless of themselves, who do all man- 
 ner of things forbidden by our laws. They are men whom 
 our Pharisees could not touch with their skirts without feel- 
 
 ing that they had been defiled.” 
 
140 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “May it not be pure kindness that makes Jesus treat them 
 as friends? He heals their ailments, they think at least. 
 They flock to him out of gratitude. He is too kind-hearted 
 to turn them away.” 
 
 “Tf he were a true Hebrew, he would not trample our laws 
 under foot by consorting with them and letting them touch 
 his person.” 
 
 “Ts he so familiar with them?” 
 
 “T have not yet seen-him myself. I tried to do so, but he 
 has not been in Capernaum today. So I can only judge by 
 what I hear, and I cannot deny that these common and un- 
 clean people who follow him seem to reverence him and feel a 
 certain awe in his presence. Yet he sometimes allows a 
 strange, yes, a really shocking familiarity.” 
 
 “And you were told instances of this?” 
 
 “Yes; and one, of which I hardly know how to speak. 
 It made the Pharisees who witnessed it hot with wrath and I 
 shared their indignation when I was told of it. But as I see 
 your sympathy makes you palliate these things that so out- 
 rage a Hebrew’s sense of what is fit, I must show you how 
 this man shocks and offends us. 
 
 ‘A few days ago one of our Pharisees feasted him. Into 
 the house went some of the common crew who are ever around 
 the man. It was an abuse of the generously proffered hospi- 
 tality, but the Pharisee was too courteous to object. But 
 while they were sitting at table, in came a woman who should 
 not have been allowed to enter any house of uprightness. 
 While all looked on in amazement, she went straight to Jesus, 
 knelt at his feet, which she washed with her tears and then 
 wiped with her loose-flowing hair and anointed with a very 
 precious ointment. It was such a scandalous scene that some 
 of Jesus’ own followers protested; but he rebuked them, let 
 the woman do as she would and sent her away with a kindly 
 word.” 
 
 With downcast eyes Thisoa listened to this narration which 
 
 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 141 
 
 was given with no little feeling. It brought no tinge of color 
 to her face, but it made her very grave and thoughtful. The 
 acquiescence that Zatthu had expected from her was slow in 
 coming. Now that he had turned wholly against Jesus, she 
 found that a feeling in his favor was unexpectedly arising in 
 herself. 
 
 How baseless is the idea that the well rounded character 
 has been ripened only by the altruism of today! Epami- 
 nondas was as just and unselfish as Washington. The mother 
 of the Scipios could not be surpassed in depth and nobleness 
 of feeling. It was a woman’s tenderness that saved Moses 
 for his mighty destiny, and that compassionate daughter of 
 Pharaoh was surely only one of a countless multitude of 
 sweet-natured women. ‘To Thisoa the readiness of Jesus to 
 make friends with the lowly and to be gracious to an erring 
 woman brought no shock and no feeling of condemnation. 
 Rather did her large and generous nature respond to these 
 proofs of a boundless human sympathy. Every age finds its 
 needed leaven in those who rise above its conventions. Thisoa 
 was one of these. In her heart she felt a strong desire to see 
 and know this man who refused to be cast in the mould of 
 Hebrew tradition. At the same time she could do full justice 
 to Zatthu’s attitude and could believe a man like him must be 
 the deliverer of his nation. The Jews had an unexampled 
 pride of race. That was but too apparent. The books they 
 profoundly reverenced seemed to justify them in holding 
 themselves aloof from all other peoples and believing them- 
 selves called to an unparalleled destiny. All this being so, it 
 was only one who was of the purest blood and who rigidly 
 regarded every established Hebrew tradition that they could 
 follow in the path to liberty and great achievement. From 
 Jesus they might get moral uplift, and possibly healing, 
 though that she still gravely doubted; it was only from 
 Zatthu that they could get national salvation. 
 
 Yet was not Zatthu himself doing the very thing he con- 
 
142 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 demned in Jesus? Repulsed by some of Capernaum’s leading 
 Pharisees, he was finding shelter and seeking sympathy under 
 her father’s roof. Partly in a spirit of mischief, partly to 
 bring him face to face with his own inconsistency, she ended 
 the silence at which he had been wondering by a query that 
 was fairly startling. 
 
 “But are not you,” she asked, “doing the same violence to 
 your sacred traditions that Jesus has been doing? You say 
 he is a traitor to Judea because he parleys with publicans 
 and sinners, makes friends with them, eats with them and 
 uses them to win power. Yet you have become the guest- 
 friend of my father and your plans to free Judea you unfold 
 to us, who are of those very aliens your people look upon with 
 aversion, and from us you seem to hope for sympathy and 
 encouragement.” 
 
 “And reasonably so,” exclaimed Zatthu, who had listened 
 to these words with a shock of surprise but was ready and 
 even eager to defend himself. ‘You may well think me incon- 
 sistent, but really Iam not so. I am not making friends with 
 publicans, with rough unwashed men, with those who have 
 strayed into ways miry and unclean. Should the standard 
 of revolt be raised and should such as these array themselves 
 beneath it, I should say the great Jehovah had made them 
 his instruments and it was not for man with his frail wisdom 
 to rebuff them. But I should never seek such allies. I am 
 not seeking them. It is only to the men of influence and learn- 
 ing, only to the men of unmixed Hebrew blood that I am 
 resorting and making known my purpose. And was it not 
 through your father’s earnest solicitation that I came here 
 under this roof? Has it not been at your own earnest request 
 that I have told you of my great ambition to free my coun- 
 try? And what a kindly and hearty response I found! What 
 sympathy have you not shown! Do not, I pray you, think 
 that I am to be likened to this strange and erring son of a 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 143 
 
 carpenter because I count among my friends the inmates of 
 this generous and noble household !”’ 
 
 “YT am answered,” said Thisoa smilingly. “I will not think 
 of my father and mother, who are of earth’s noblest and best, 
 as like the rude and perhaps uncleanly people whom Jesus 
 seeks to know and help. And while I cannot help admiring 
 him for the kindness of heart he shows in thus befriending the 
 needy and the lowly, I think his conduct shows that not to 
 him could the Hebrews look for a leader to deliver them from 
 Rome. It is a man like you who is to shatter the tyranny 
 that binds and crushes you. Yes, and the man is you.” 
 
 “YT humbly hope so. As I have said, I feel that I have heard 
 Jehovah calling me to free my country.” 
 
 “You will free it. Of that I feel sure. And when you have 
 freed it, how will you rule it and make it great? Will this 
 Jesus have no part in building it up and giving it the com- 
 manding place among the nations of the world?” 
 
 A frown gathered over Zatthu’s face. : 
 
 “You seem greatly interested in this carpenter’s son,” he 
 said, eyeing his questioner searchingly. ‘‘Why is it so?” 
 
 “Because all that you tell of him makes me think him a man 
 of a peculiarly noble character, even if I cannot regard him 
 as raised up to free Judea.” 
 
 “Ys it noble to make light of sin; to scoff at our sacred 
 traditions; to trick and deceive the multitudes; and to use 
 strange, unholy powers for his own fame and influence?” 
 
 “Does he use strange, unholy powers?” 
 
 “Yes, even like those of the Egyptian priests who turned 
 their rods into serpents, or like those of the Witch of Endor 
 who called up Samuel’s spirit at the bidding of King Saul.” 
 
 “Can you give me an instance of this?” 
 
 ‘“What he did in the country of the Gadarenes is proof of 
 it. For there he made tormenting spirits leave a man they 
 were haunting and pass into a herd of swine; whereupon the 
 swine rushed down into the Sea of Galilee and were drowned.” 
 
144 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “How about the man? Was he truly freed from the tor- 
 menting spirits?” 
 
 “Of that I have my doubts. I only know that the swine 
 were drowned.” 
 
 “But the one thing I should wish to know is, whether the 
 man was cured. If he was, I should not call the power that 
 cured him an unholy power.” 
 
 “You puzzle me. You seem to esteem this Jesus highly 
 and to see good in everything he does; while only yesterday 
 you had nothing but condemnation for him.” 
 
 ‘You must remember that I am not a Hebrew. In seeking 
 the neglected, the unclean and the despised, Jesus offends 
 your reverence for the traditions of your nation; but it is in 
 doing just this that he commends himself to me. I can under- 
 stand how you, a Hebrew, count it a sacred duty to keep 
 your race strain pure. If you are Jehovah’s chosen people, 
 you must do just this, or He would no longer regard you with 
 especial favor. But I am a Greek; and though the Greeks 
 have pride of race, I cannot help admiring a man who, like 
 Jesus, likes to mingle with the lowly and despised.” 
 
 “Kiven though he makes friends with sinners?” 
 
 “You say he makes friends with them. Just what do you 
 mean by that? Does he go about with them and count them 
 among his immediate followers?” 
 
 “T could not say that. Ido not really know. But he cer- 
 tainly passes over their misdeeds as if they were nothing.” 
 
 “Perhaps in that he is wrong. I am not sure. I want to 
 see him, to know of his daily life and doings. He makes me 
 think of our Socrates who went about the streets of Athens 
 gladly talking with any who would hear him. But I will say 
 no more about this strange man who is making friends of the 
 poor and the unknown, and enemies of those your men of wis- 
 dom and authority revere. Do not for a moment think my 
 growing interest in Jesus lessens my belief in your own mis- 
 sion. It is you who are to set your country free. I have 
 
 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 145 
 
 already said it and I say it now again! You are called and 
 inspired to do this mighty thing. From the bottom of my 
 heart I am thankful that you see it and that all your doubts 
 are cleared. Go forth and do it. Your Jehovah will not let 
 you fail.” | 
 
 Zatthu was too deeply moved by these words of confidence 
 to make any reply. He showed his feeling by a look of grati- 
 tude, excused himself and went to his room with a great joy 
 in his heart. At no time had he felt more sure that his task 
 was a divinely appointed one. The cloud that had seemed to 
 gather over his pathway had been dispelled. False leaders 
 might arise and have their little day. But it was he, Zatthu, 
 that was to bring a new and glorious day to Israel. 
 
146 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XVI 
 
 The next day was the Sabbath. Eagerly had Zatthu looked 
 forward to it. At the synagogue would then be gathered a 
 goodly representation of his people. He would see them and 
 measure them. Already practiced in reading the mind of an 
 assembly, he could almost surely tell whether here in this 
 populous Galilean city there were the seeds that his fiery zeal 
 could ripen into a harvest. To be sure, the time for his labors 
 was not now. He was an outlaw. In the city was a Roman 
 garrison. At the head of it was a centurion peculiarly vigi- 
 lant and discerning. But if the spirit of patriotism were 
 truly in the hearts of the people, it could be stirred in Jeho- 
 vah’s own time. 
 
 It was therefore in a very earnest mood that Zatthu started 
 forth to attend the ritual in the synagogue. He was going 
 among friends, and not a shadow of apprehension troubled 
 his mind. Of the exciting experiences the day was to bring 
 he had no forecast. Having allowed himself ample time, he 
 strolled in a leisurely manner along the streets. The air was 
 still. His mind was as peaceful as the quiet summer morning. 
 
 He had reached the door of the synagogue when he heard 
 voices chanting together somewhere in the open. Instead of 
 entering he stopped and listened. The voices began to sound 
 nearer, and the tramp of feet was heard. In a moment the 
 company of singers passed from a cross street into the one on 
 which the synagogue was situated and came full into view. 
 
 The words they sang could now be heard distinctly by 
 Zatthu and the little group of onlookers that had gathered at 
 the door of the synagogue. ‘They were chanting the hundred 
 and twenty-second Psalm which so perfectly expresses the 
 spirit of joyous worship: 
 
 I was glad when they said unto me 
 Let us go into the house of Jehovah. 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 147 
 
 The company was not numerous — some three score men 
 and women — but they chanted the solemn words with deep 
 feeling, as if they came from their hearts. For a moment 
 Zatthu was thrilled by the lofty strains that so nobly voiced 
 the spiritual faith of Israel. “Surely,” he thought, “my 
 people is Jehovah’s people. No other has ever uttered so 
 sublime a note of praise.” But his thought was quickly 
 turned from the song to those who were so devoutly render- 
 ing it. 
 
 At their head walked a man whom all were plainly recog- 
 nizing as their leader. His step was not stately or majestic. 
 The homage he commanded was not given for any assumption 
 of superiority or any outward show of pride. Altogether 
 quiet and modest was his bearing. As he drew near no sign 
 of elation could be seen in his pure grave countenance. He 
 looked straight before him as he walked along, yet his eyes 
 did not seem to be fixed on the things that were within their 
 gaze. It was as if they were peering through the curtain of 
 earthly substance into what was spiritual and eternal. Zatthu 
 gazed at him with ever growing interest as he approached. 
 He did not need the whispered comments of those around him 
 to tell him that this was Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 As the company drew near to the synagogue, this man who 
 had seemed so unconscious of what was passing around him 
 turned and lifted up his hand. Instantly every voice was 
 hushed. Only the steady tramp of feet was now heard as the 
 throng passed up to the steps of the synagogue. Still gazing 
 intently at its leader, Zatthu was surprised and even startled 
 to see that those eyes, seemingly so unmindful of what was 
 near, were looking directly into his own. They looked appeal- 
 ingly and the look was not at once withdrawn. For Jesus 
 had stopped as he came opposite to Zatthu, and almost did 
 it seem as if he would speak to him. But no words came, 
 though Zatthu had a strange feeling that the searching gaze 
 directed at him was reading all the secrets of his soul. He 
 
148 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 could not meet that earnest wistful look. He glanced down- 
 ward for a moment and when he lifted his eyes again, Jesus 
 had passed on. 
 
 Perturbed by this unexpected meeting, Zatthu found it 
 hard to command his thoughts and to give to the company 
 that was passing into the synagogue after their leader the 
 close survey he had had in mind. Yet he did note them 
 cursorily, and in garb, bearing and all outward circumstance 
 they were what he expected them to be. No Pharisees, no men 
 of bland courtesy and polished speech were among them. Not 
 a face that he saw showed the stamp of worldly wisdom or 
 intellectual acquisitiveness. These were plain men, plainly or 
 even coarsely garbed, roughened by wind and wave, begrimed 
 with toil, well used to the supercilious frown and to the blows 
 of adverse circumstance. Some faces indeed showed kindliness 
 without strength of will and bore witness to the gentle and be- 
 nignant influence that was reaching men with generous hearts, 
 mothers whose babes were blessed, and maids to whom purity 
 spoke in tones they could not fail to understand. For a few 
 sweet-faced mothers were in the motley throng, and young 
 women also with countenances aglow with hope and joyous- 
 ness. But it was on the men that Zatthu’s gaze was fixed. It 
 was the men of Juda and Galilee who were to free the country 
 if free it was to be. And these men were not the ones to whom 
 a great movement of national deliverance should make its first 
 appeal. Zatthu noted that there were none among them like 
 the men of light and leading in Jerusalem whose minds and 
 hearts he had stirred. His conclusions were confirmed. He 
 turned and went into the synagogue with the deep conviction 
 that Jesus was without the commanding qualities that are 
 needed to lift a whole people into greatness. Lacking these, 
 he played upon the feelings of the unthinking and built up a 
 baseless power that would sometime crumble in a day. Per- 
 haps he was more to be pitied than despised, was Zatthu’s 
 
PART IIT—THE DAWNING LIGHT 149 
 
 thought. And yet he was haunted by that pleading wistful 
 look. 
 
 In the synagogue he was not surprised to find that Jesus 
 was to conduct the ritual and give the lesson for the day. 
 This was so generally expected that the presiding elder could 
 not stand in the way of it. Already obnoxious to most of the 
 scribes and Pharisees of Capernaum, Jesus had yet such a 
 following among the common people that what he wished was 
 not easily gainsaid. Nor was Zatthu sorry to see him take 
 his place on the platform to read to and instruct the gather- 
 ing. The more he was brought forward the better. He would 
 show his weaknesses and make it plain that he was no true 
 leader for Israel. 
 
 And to Zatthu, as well as to the other Pharisees and to the 
 elders there present, Jesus did indeed make his claim to 
 leadership seem altogether preposterous. Yet it was by no 
 manifestation of weakness that he did this. His offence lay 
 rather in his lofty self-assertion. For after reading from 
 Isaiah and ending with the words: ‘‘Wherefore do ye spend 
 money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that 
 which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me and eat ye 
 that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fat- 
 ness,” he declared that he alone could satisfy the hunger and 
 thirst of the soul. Rising to a full consciousness of his Mes- 
 siahship he cried: “He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my 
 blood, dwelleth in me, andI in him. As the living Father hath 
 sent me, and I live by the Father; so he that eateth me even 
 he shall live by me. This is that bread which came down from 
 heaven: not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead: 
 he that eateth of this bread shall live forever.” * 
 
 Even to some of Jesus’ own disciples this sublime assertion 
 of Divine Sonship was so disconcerting that they pronounced 
 it “an hard saying,” and “they walked no more with him.” 
 To Zatthu it seemed nothing short of blasphemy, and it was 
 
 *See Saint John’s Gospel, VI, 53-66, noting especially verses 59 and 66. 
 
150 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 in wrath and fierce resentment that he rose to leave the syna- 
 gogue as the service came to an end. But as he cast one 
 glance about him before turning to the door, he saw that 
 which drove every thought but that of instant personal safety 
 completely out of his mind. He found himself looking into 
 the eyes of the very Roman officer who had sat at Pilate’s side 
 when he was questioned and sentenced at Cesarea. And the 
 officer recognized him on the instant, as Zatthu clearly saw. 
 He must get out of the synagogue at once and hasten from it 
 with the utmost speed. 
 
 Fortunately he was close to the door. Having lingered 
 outside till Jesus and his followers had passed in, he had found 
 the building full and had not pressed to the front. And, for- 
 tunately again, the man he must escape from had been in one 
 of the very front seats. He had therefore a good chance to 
 elude the inevitable pursuit. Quickly he edged his way into 
 the open. Then going at once into a side street he turned the 
 first corner he came to and started on the run for the house 
 of Aristarchus. 
 
 Who the Roman officer was, he did not need to be told. 
 This could be no other than Marcus the centurion. By an 
 unfortunate chance he had been in Cesarea when Zatthu was 
 taken before Pilate. He had noted the captive Hebrew well. 
 He remembered him. He would leave no stone unturned to 
 find him and deliver him over to the stern unbending Roman 
 law. It was with no comfortable thoughts that Zatthu hur- 
 ried on his way, running whenever he could do so without 
 attracting attention, walking rapidly when people were in 
 sight. A Roman soldier was among those whom he passed 
 and this was a meeting that did not please him. Quite out of 
 breath he reached Aristarchus’ dwelling, which was a good 
 mile from the synagogue and in the western quarter of the 
 city, and passed inside. 
 
 ' 
 | 
 7 
 
 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 151 
 
 XVIT 
 
 It was to the room of Aristarchus himself that he directed 
 his steps. In the passageway that led to it he encountered 
 Thisoa. 
 
 “I must see your father at once,” he said. 
 
 “He is asleep and should not be wakened unless it is a mat- 
 ter of importance. But I can see that it is. You are out of 
 breath and your manner is grave and urgent. Can you not 
 tell me what has happened?” 
 
 “T have been recognized,” he exclaimed. “I am in danger. 
 This house can shelter me no longer. I came to tell your 
 father so and flee at once to my friends. They will hide me.” 
 
 “No, this is the house that must hide you. It is the one 
 place where they would not seek you.” 
 
 “You are mistaken. Close by a Roman soldier noted me 
 walking hurriedly. And it was Marcus the centurion who 
 recognized me. He is too keen to omit your father’s house 
 from the search.” 
 
 “Marcus! Of all men, Marcus! That is unfortunate. 
 How is it that he knew your” 
 
 “He sat by Pilate’s side when I was tried in Cesarea.” 
 
 ‘*Would he had not been there! He is wonderfully astute, 
 but we will baffle him. Come at once with me and I will con- 
 ceal you.” 
 
 “No, I must bid your father goodbye and leave your home 
 at once.” 
 
 ‘And be taken before you have gone a hundred steps. You 
 shall not do it. It is here that you must hide. Come in- 
 stantly. We are wasting precious time by talking. Marcus 
 may have fallen in with that soldier and got upon your 
 ETACK.: 
 
 “Your own words show me that I ought not to stay here. 
 
152 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 This house will not be exempt from search as you thought it 
 would. I must see your father at once and then depart.” 
 
 “That you shall not do. My father must not know that 
 you are hiding here.” 
 
 ‘That would be dishonorable.” 
 
 “Teave that to me. I tell you, you must and shall come 
 with me. If you do not, you will be resisting Jehovah’s will. 
 He has appointed me to save you— to save you for your 
 nation’s glory and redemption.” 
 
 The girl drew herself up proudly as she said this. Her 
 manner was imperious; her eyes sparkled with the intensity 
 of her feeling. It flashed upon Zatthu that she was even as 
 Deborah was when she commanded Barak to fight with Jabin. 
 Still, he resisted. Aristarchus had been more than kind to 
 him. He would not reward generosity with deceit. But even 
 while he hesitated, there came so loud a knock upon the door 
 that, far away from it as they were, it was distinctly heard. 
 
 “Do you hear?” said Thisoa in a tone that was now im- 
 ploring. ‘That is the knock of Rome. It means death to 
 you and ruin for your country if you do not do as I bid you. 
 Come with me! Oh, I beg and entreat you to come with me. 
 It is your Jehovah who is speaking through me. You must 
 not disobey His voice.” 
 
 Zatthu looked for a moment into the girl’s anxious and 
 pleading eyes. He looked only for a moment. 
 
 “T believe you,” he said with bowed head. “It is Jehovah’s 
 call. I must obey it.” 
 
 Rapidly Thisoa led him to the apartment devoted to her 
 own and her mother’s use, in which he had told of his escape 
 from prison at Cesarea. Opening the door that led from the 
 apartment into the high-walled private garden, she hastily 
 conducted him into it, and to her immense satisfaction she 
 found that Trinion the gardener was at work there. In a low 
 voice she called him. As he hastened to her she said to 
 Zatthu, 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 153 
 
 “T am going to leave you in the hands of this faithful ser- 
 vant. Do what he bids you and all will be well.” 
 
 To Trinion she said, 
 
 “You know what to do with this guest of ours, Trinion. 
 Be sure and act with caution and prudence. The honor of 
 my father’s house is to rest on your skill and wisdom for a 
 while.” 
 
 Then she hastened into the house again. 
 
154 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XVIII 
 
 It was Marcus himself who had knocked at the door of 
 Aristarchus. Hastening from the synagogue without know- 
 ing what street the man he was in search of had taken, he 
 directed his steps toward the dwelling of the Greek merchant 
 through an instinct that in critical moments had often guided 
 him aright. 
 
 Before long he chanced upon the very soldier who had en- 
 countered Zatthu, and what the man said made him sure that 
 it was a well grounded suspicion he had formed. 
 
 “It would be just like that generous big-hearted friend of 
 mine to shelter this pestiferous fellow,” he thought to himself 
 as he walked along. “He was strangely uncommunicative 
 when I questioned him about that combat with the robbers. 
 He said no such person as I represented Zatthu to be was 
 among the men who attacked him. And no doubt he told the 
 truth for he is always honest. But the fellow may have turned 
 up just in time to help him out of his scrape and then have 
 had friendship and hospitality thrust upon him as a reward. 
 Yes, that would have been just like Aristarchus.” 
 
 Reaching his friend’s house with his suspicions now thor- 
 oughly confirmed by his own keen insight and discernment, he 
 had himself taken without ceremony to the Greek’s bedside. 
 
 “So you have no scruples against sheltering Rome’s ene- 
 mies,’ he said with a smile as he entered the room. 
 
 “None at all. Why should I in a city where Marcus is in 
 command?” was Aristarchus’ equally smiling reply. He had 
 just awakened from sleep, but this startling question put his 
 mind instantly on the alert. 
 
 “Counting as usual on my friendship and good nature. 
 Well, you made no mistake. Iam as sure to be friendly as you 
 are sure to be honest. I make no criticism. But I was with 
 Pilate when Zatthu was tried by him. I recognized him a half 
 
PART IITI—THE DAWNING LIGHT 155 
 
 hour since in the synagogue. He has taken refuge here. 
 Rome wants him. You must give him up.” 
 
 “T never resist Rome. That you know. If he is here, find 
 him and take him away. But I tell you I shall have a sad 
 heart when you carry him off.” 
 
 “You admit that he is here?” 
 
 “No. I admit nothing of the kind. You say, he is here. 
 I say, if he is here, find him.” 
 
 “You do not really know whether he is here or not?” 
 
 “‘T do not believe that he is here. He went to the synagogue 
 from here. If he came back and entered the house, it was 
 while I was asleep and I did not know of it.” 
 
 “T believe you; but I am sure he is here and I am going to 
 find him.” 
 
 “You must do your duty, but I hope he is not here and that 
 you will never find him.” 
 
 Marcus’ smile had vanished. He shook his head sadly as 
 he said, 
 
 “Duty bids me do many unpleasant things. To hunt down 
 a brave man in the house of a friend is not to my liking; but 
 it must be done.” 
 
 Leaving Aristarchus he began his search. The house was 
 surrounded by his men. If the fugitive were within he could 
 not escape. He could proceed with due deliberation. 
 
 First of all he went to the aged Paches whose post was at 
 the main door, and asked him if the Hebrew cuest of the house 
 had recently come in. But the man admitted he had been 
 asleep and he could not say. The door was not locked. The 
 Hebrew had been in the habit of coming in without announc- 
 ing himself. He might have done this sometime within the 
 last hour. 
 
 Marcus was disappointed. To be sure, he had undertaken 
 this hateful task reluctantly. Having undertaken it, he was 
 too true to Rome to wish to fail in it. He had hoped to get 
 from the door-keeper positive proof that Zatthu was in the 
 
156 ZATTHU-——A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 house. But though this proof was so far wanting, he began 
 to search with unabated confidence. He next sent word to 
 Xenodice that he wished to see her. 
 
 He waited for her in the atrium. When she appeared he 
 told her why he was there and asked her if she would not tell 
 him plainly whether Zatthu was under her roof. 
 
 “T would tell you if I knew, sorry though I should be to do 
 so. But I really do not know.” 
 
 “What does your daughter know about it?” 
 
 “My daughter is a little unwell. She has a headache and 
 is, I think, asleep.” 
 
 “She has a headache and is asleep,” Marcus repeated 
 slowly and with a little suspicion in his mind. “Ts it not quite 
 an unusual thing for your daughter to be unwell or to sleep 
 in the middle of the day?” 
 
 “T must admit that I cannot remember when either of these 
 things happened before.” 
 
 “Has she been asleep long, if I may ask such an imperti- 
 nent question?” 
 
 “Not very long. Less than an hour I think.” 
 
 “T should be sorry to disturb her, but I may have to search 
 your apartments and hers before long. You would not 
 object, I suppose.” 
 
 “Surely not. But I know you will find nothing there.” 
 
 Marcus bowed as he replied, 
 
 “T will search elsewhere first.” 
 
 The house being spacious and having many rooms, Marcus 
 posted several men so as to prevent any one from eluding 
 observation by dodging in and out and passing from place 
 to place. Then he went with two soldiers to the servants’ 
 quarters in the rear. These he searched thoroughly but with 
 no result. Finding a staircase, he asked where it led. 
 
 “To a storeroom under the roof,’’ was the answer. 
 
 Marcus mounted the stairway. At the top of it was the 
 storeroom mentioned. A brief inspection showed that no one 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 157 
 
 was concealed there. The room had a single door connecting 
 it with another chamber. He tried the door. It was locked. 
 
 “What is on the other side of that door?” asked Marcus 
 of the steward who had come with him up the stairway. 
 
 “A room used by my master’s daughter.” 
 
 “Ts it always locked?” 
 
 “T think so. I am not sure.” 
 
 ““Who has the key?” 
 
 “My mistress or her daughter.” 
 
 Marcus descended and continued his search. Having vis- 
 ited every part of the house but the rooms occupied by 
 Xenodice and Thisoa and found nothing, he sent for Xenodice 
 again. 
 
 “T must now look through your own rooms and those of 
 your daughter,” he said. 
 
 “You would not be Marcus, if you left anything undone,” 
 she answered with a smile. “I will lead the way.” 
 
 First of all the sitting or living room that opened into the 
 garden was entered. As a glance made it plain that the 
 fugitive was not there, Xenodice opened the door and showed 
 the garden. At the further side of it Trinion was busy water- 
 ing the flowers. As he heard the door open, he turned, made 
 a low bow and resumed his task. He was old and white- 
 bearded, but his years had not dulled his love for the plants 
 he was caring for. As he passed from one to another he 
 would touch each caressingly and say a word of appreciation 
 as if talking to a child. Marcus eyed him keenly for two or 
 three moments and then turned away. He saw nothing in 
 the garden to awaken his suspicion. 
 
 Xenodice’s room he inspected very cursorily. At the door 
 of 'Thisoa’s he paused. 
 
 “Ts your daughter still asleep?” he inquired. 
 
 “T will go in and see.” 
 
 “She seems to be,” she reported as she returned a moment 
 later. ‘But I will wake her if you wish.” ; 
 
158 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “You need not do it now if you will give me your word that 
 no one is concealed there.” 
 
 Xenodice’s face grew crimson. 
 
 “Surely,” she said, “you do not think my daughter, the 
 daughter of your friend Aristarchus, has hidden a man in her 
 own bedroom!” 
 
 “T suspect nothing. As a Roman officer I cannot leave this 
 house till I have made sure that he is not in it. It grieves me 
 to offend you, but duty is a tyrant that disowns courtesy and 
 feeling.” 
 
 “Yet you trust my word!’ 
 
 “Because duty tells me it is safe to do so.” 
 
 Xenodice again entered Thisoa’s sleeping room. Very 
 shortly she came out and said, 
 
 “T give you my word that my daughter is the only person 
 in the room.” | 
 
 “Then I will not enter it, if I can avoid doing so. But is 
 there not a room above which she uses as her own?” 
 
 “There is. In the winter when it is cool she goes there to 
 read or paint or work with her needle.” 
 
 *“How is it reached?” 
 
 “By a stairway in a small apartment beyond her own sleep- 
 ing room.” 
 
 ‘And that apartment is entered only through her room?” 
 
 “Only through that.” 
 
 “Then I must go through it, for I have to search that 
 chamber up stairs.” 
 
 “Might I not make the search for you?” 
 
 Marcus hestitated for a moment and then said, 
 
 “Your word I would trust implicitly. Still, I should feel 
 better satisfied that I had done my whole duty if I made the 
 search myself. The most honest eyes might not be the most 
 discerning. Please show me the way. I will pass quietly 
 through your daughter’s room without disturbing her.” 
 
 Xenodice conducted him through Thisoa’s room into a 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 159 
 
 smaller one in which was a narrow staircase. Marcus went 
 up the stairs and found himself in a spacious loft that was 
 lighted by one large window and unmistakably furnished for 
 a woman’s leisure hours. A small cabinet contained a few 
 rolls of manuscript. On an easel was a half-painted picture 
 that suggested Artemis snatching Iphigenia from her sacri- 
 ficial doom. ‘The figures were well done but a still better evi- 
 dence of Thisoa’s artistic skill was given by a nearly com- 
 pleted piece of embroidery on a large frame. Here was por- 
 trayed with life and spirit a scene which no one could mistake 
 who was familiar with Greek myth. It represented blind 
 CEdipus led by his two daughters, Antigone and Ismene; and 
 the contrast between the resignation of age and the hopeful- 
 ness of youth was admirably shown. 
 
 Only for a moment did Marcus’ glance linger on these 
 pieces of handiwork. They interested him, but his innate 
 delicacy forbade him to give a loose rein to curiosity. He 
 was here for a purpose and solely for that. Quickly he satis- 
 fied himself that here were no closets in which a man could 
 hide, no furniture behind which he could conceal himself. 
 There was one door in the room — without doubt the one 
 that connected it with the storeroom already searched. He 
 tried it. It was locked. 
 
 Going then to the window, he climbed out upon the roof. 
 Its slope was so gradual that he easily made his way round 
 about it. No one was on it but himself. Passing to the edge, 
 he saw his men posted below as he had stationed them and 
 became satisfied that the roof could not have been used as a 
 means of escape without attracting attention. 
 
 There was nothing to do but to descend the stairway, and 
 admit that so far his search had failed. But he thought he 
 saw how he might have been foiled. 
 
 “Will you please tell me,” he said, addressing Xenodice 
 whom he found awaiting him near the foot of the stairs, “‘who 
 has the key to the door of the loft above?” 
 
160 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Tt has always, I think, been in my daughter’s keeping.” 
 
 “Then I shall have to ask you to awaken her and tell you 
 where it is.” 
 
 Xenodice stepped into Thisoa’s room. In a moment she 
 came back and announced that the key had been lost. 
 
 “Ts the storeroom into which the door opens used only by 
 the servants of the house?” 
 
 “Oh, no. My daughter and I both have occasion to go to 
 it sometimes.” 
 
 “Rather an inconvenient key to lose, then,” commented 
 Marcus. “I wonder when it was used last. But no matter. 
 As the door above cannot be opened, I find it necessary to 
 look on both sides of it at the same time. So I shall have to 
 make your daughter’s room a passageway again while I go 
 and give instructions to Stilco who is waiting in the corridor.” 
 
 Passing through Thisoa’s room but not glancing at the 
 bed to see whether she was really awake or had dropped into 
 slumber again, Marcus found Stilco and told him to go again 
 by the stairway in the servants’ quarters into the storeroom. 
 If he found nothing there, he was to rap thrice on the door 
 of the room. He then passed back into the small apartment, 
 climbed the narrow stairs once more and waited. Presently 
 he heard the triple knock. It seemed well established that the 
 fugitive was nowhere in the house. 
 
 Marcus went down the stairway into the little apartment 
 where again he found the wife of Aristarchus. He was 
 puzzled. Bootless though his search had been, he was by no 
 means convinced that the elusive Hebrew was not hidden 
 somewhere under that very roof. Thisoa’s headache and the 
 lost key both seemed suspicious to him. He wanted to think. 
 
 What is it that makes the body seek support when the 
 mind is to be busy? Or is it the mind itself that dominates 
 the body and bids it relieve itself of all possible strain in order 
 that the brain may be the sole centre of energy? Whatever 
 the cause is, a man who would ponder likes to sit. Charged 
 
PART IIT—THE DAWNING LIGHT 161 
 
 with vitality as Marcus was, powerful as few men are, he 
 looked around for a seat as he reached the foot of the stair- 
 way. A chair was empty. He took it, merely shaking his 
 head as he looked at Xenodice and thus indicating that his 
 efforts had failed. 
 
 For a few moments he pondered in silence. Then he sud- 
 denly said to Xenodice, 
 
 “Who was that old man I saw in the garden? I can’t re- 
 member that I ever set eyes on him before.” 
 
 “His name is Trinion. His care is the small garden you 
 saw and the larger one in the rear of the house.” 
 
 “Flas he been with you long?” 
 
 “Oh, yes, ten years at least.” 
 
 **He seemed to be a quaint character. May I see him?” 
 
 “Assuredly. I will send for him.” 
 
 Marcus and Xenodice went now to the living room. Trin- 
 ion was still in the little garden and he came in at once at 
 Xenodice’s summons. He was past seventy, but his eye was 
 bright and his mind vigorous. To Marcus’s questions he gave 
 ready and sometimes amusing answers; but upon the where- 
 abouts of the fugitive he could shed no light. 
 
 “You are not a magician, I suppose, and you cannot hide a 
 man behind a rose bush?” asked Marcus, half jestingly. 
 
 “Not if he were as big as you are,” was the quick reply. 
 
 “But suppose he was very small?” There was a twinkle in 
 the old man’s eye as he answered, 
 
 “Then I could do it if those that hunted him were blind.” 
 
 Marcus laughed as he said, 
 
 “You can go, Trinion. You are a real gardener and not a 
 runaway in disguise, and that was what I wanted to see.” 
 
 Then turning to Xenodice, he added, 
 
 “T shall have to go into the servants’ quarters again and 
 inspect every one there. And I fear I must ask you to accom- 
 pany me and see that all your household is brought under 
 survey.” 
 
162 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Xenodice went with Marcus. Every servant but Trinion 
 was produced and closely viewed, but no one of them was 
 other than a genuine retainer of the house. 
 
 “T looked at them all sharply the first time,” said Marcus 
 as he finished his survey, but I thought it well to examine them 
 once more in your presence and make absolutely sure that 
 no one of them was the man I am looking for, masking as a 
 servant. It only remains for me to thank you with all my 
 heart for your patience and your generous assistance — an 
 assistance which I can well understand you did not enjoy 
 giving — and to give up the search. I am now going to Aris- 
 tarchus to acknowledge my defeat.” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 163 
 
 XIX 
 
 To Aristarchus Marcus went, while Xenodice hastened at 
 once to her daughter’s room. 
 
 “Has your headache left you, Thisoa?” she asked as she 
 entered with a very light step. 
 
 “Come close to me, mother, and I will tell you,’’ was the 
 low reply. 
 
 Xenodice went to the bedside and seated herself on the 
 edge of the bed. Thisoa drew her mother down to her and 
 whispered in her ear, 
 
 “Has Marcus gone?” 
 
 “Yes. That is, he is now with your father.” 
 
 “You are sure he is not within hearing?” 
 
 “Quite sure.” 
 
 “And none of the soldiers are lurking where they could 
 hear?” : 
 
 ‘They have all left the house.” 
 
 ‘Then my headache is gone.” 
 
 Startled at this curious communication, Xenodice sat up- 
 right, looked at Thisoa intently and said, 
 
 “What do you mean, child? What strange thing have you 
 been doing?” 
 
 “T have been hiding Zatthu.” 
 
 ‘Hiding our Hebrew guest? Impossible. Where?” 
 
 “Don’t be dismayed, mother. He is not under the bed.” 
 
 ‘But where is he? How could you hide him from such keen 
 eyes as those of Marcus?” 
 
 “In a hole in the garden; right behind a clump of rose 
 bushes.” | 
 
 “Rose bushes! Rose bushes! Why, Marcus asked Trinion 
 if he was magician enough to hide a man behind a rose bush. 
 He had hit upon the very hiding place and did not know it.” 
 
164 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Yes, and I can imagine how Trinion was laughing to him- 
 self when he answered the question.” 
 
 “I noticed a merry twinkle in his eye. But how did you 
 ever think of such a thing, and how did you ever dare to 
 dout:% 
 
 “I have been afraid that Zatthu would be recognized and 
 be in danger of his life. I have been haunted by the thought 
 ever since he told us of his escape from prison. So I made up 
 my mind we must be prepared to save him. 
 
 “YT got Trinion to dig a deep hole behind a thick clump of 
 rose bushes — deep enough for a man to stand in and not be 
 seen. And right here Trinion set up a box, a kind of trough 
 for holding water to water the flowers with. He made it out 
 of old pieces of wood so that it would not appear new and 
 rouse suspicion; and he made it look so solid that one couldn’t 
 think of it as easily moved. It was big enough to cover the 
 hole and right over the hole he was to place it if the hole had 
 to be used as a hiding place. 
 
 ‘‘Now as soon as I heard that vigorous knock at the door 
 and knew that Rome — and by Rome I really mean Marcus 
 — was on Zatthu’s track, I hurried our guest into the garden 
 and handed him over to Trinion. What Trinion did, doesn’t 
 need to be told. He helped Zatthu get down into the hole. 
 Then he moved the wooden trough over him so as to hide him 
 completely, though of course he saw to it that there was air 
 enough for him to breathe freely. I cautioned him about 
 that.” 
 
 “I have no doubt you did. You seem to have planned it 
 all as carefully as a general plans a campaign. But I hope 
 the trough is water tight so that our guest will not get 
 drenched.” 
 
 “He won’t even be damp. The trough was thoroughly 
 made. Its seams were all smeared with pitch. It doesn’t leak 
 adrop. But dear me! Suppose it did? A wetting is a small 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 165 
 
 price to pay for your life. But tell me; did Marcus make any 
 search through the garden at all?” 
 
 “No. A glance was enough to show him there was nothing 
 there big enough to hide a man. That hole beneath the 
 trough of course he did not suspect.” 
 
 “JT have tricked Marcus! I have tricked Marcus!” ex- 
 claimed Thisoa, not loudly through fear of being overheard, 
 but with manifest delight. ‘And he is the cleverest Roman 
 in all Palestine.” 
 
 ‘‘And the most generous, or you couldn’t be so merry over 
 what you have done.” 
 
 “True. I believe he is as just and generous a man as lives. 
 But his cause is bad when he has to hunt down a patriot like 
 Zatthu, and in his heart I am sure he is at this moment glad 
 that he has failed.” : 
 
 “Tt would be unlike him not to be so. But why did you 
 plead a headache and take to your bed? And how about that 
 key? Is it really lost?” 
 
 “One question at a time, dear mother. This was a play 
 with several acts and each one had to be perfectly planned 
 and carried through. I took to my bed because I did not 
 want to have Marcus fix those keen eyes of his on mine and 
 try to read what was in my mind. And I was sure he would 
 see something suspicious in the very fact that a healthy girl 
 like me had gone to bed in the middle of the day. This would 
 fix his mind on what was going on right here, in and about 
 my room, and take it away from the garden. To make his 
 suspicions centre altogether on this part of the house, I ran 
 upstairs and locked the door that opens into the storeroom; 
 and when you made the inquiry that I knew was sure to come, 
 I said the key had been lost. Oh, how I wished I could see his 
 face when you told him that! Didn’t he frown and look the 
 very image of suspicion? 
 
 “YT cannot deny that he did. I must admit, too, that you 
 have played your part very cleverty and hoodwinked a re- 
 
166 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 markably astute and discerning man. But I am sorry it had 
 to be. Such a warm friend of your father’s as he is. It 
 hardly seems right and honest.” | 
 
 “Tt isn’t honest, dear mother, and that is what makes it 
 right, yes, beautifully right.” 
 
 “Don’t talk so wildly, Thisoa. pereies is a vile thing even 
 though enlisted in a good cause.’ 
 
 “Mother,” answered Thisoa very ere “T am not talk- 
 ing wildly. If I have been in a merry mood it is only the 
 rebound from the hour of awful anxiety I have passed. 
 through. ‘This Hebrew whose life we have saved is a very 
 noble man. If he had been found here almost under our very 
 roof and led away to his death —I believe I should never 
 have been happy again. Do not look at me so fixedly. My 
 heart is my own — at any rate, I think it is. But this man 
 has a greater soul than any I have known. He is called to do 
 mighty things. The God of his people is calling him. ‘To 
 have saved him for his great and wonderful destiny is a thing 
 to be proud of. Deceit! Why I would tell a thousand lies 
 to save him and glory init! When I found an hour ago that 
 he was in danger, I believed I was chosen by his Jehovah to 
 deliver him. I told him so. He too believed it and he put 
 himself in my hands. It was well. I have saved him, and to 
 the great power that made us all, whatever be its name, I ren- 
 der up my thanks that I, a weak maid, should have been 
 chosen to do this wondrous service.” 
 
 As she said these last words the girl stretched forth her 
 arms and raised her eyes heavenward with a rapt look upon 
 her face. 
 
 Her exalted mood found a response in Xenodice. She too 
 was deeply interested in Zatthu and his success. Much as 
 she regretted that circumstances had forced one in her own 
 household to thwart and deceive a close family friend, she 
 could not feel sorry that it had been done. Indeed, she could 
 not but rejoice, and fervently rejoice, that the noble Hebrew 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 167 
 
 guest had for the moment escaped capture. Kissing Thisoa 
 tenderly she said, 
 
 “Tt is a good deed that you have done. Perhaps it was the 
 God of the Hebrews that called you to do it. But its conse- 
 quences are upon us. We have this guest of ours still to pro- 
 tect and hide. How shall we do it?” 
 
 “For one thing, we must not let father know anything 
 about it.” 
 
 “Why not?” 
 
 “He is too honest. He would not know how to hide the 
 truth from Marcus. He ought not to have to do so. It 
 might compromise him and hurt his friendship with Marcus 
 to act as an enemy to Rome.” 
 
 “TY fear it would, yet I do not know how to keep him in 
 ignorance of what has happened. I have never yet deceived 
 him. It seems simply impossible to begin.” 
 
 “Find a way, mother dear. Think hard, for this is a mat- 
 ter of life and death.” 
 
 “Leave it all to me,’? Xenodice answered after a little 
 thought. ‘I see what course I must take and I will go to 
 your father as soon as I am sure Marcus has left the house. 
 But what are we to do with Zatthu?” 
 
 “Feed him,” said Thisoa, her high spirits again becoming 
 manifest. ‘The poor man must be starving in that hole be- 
 hind the rose bushes. Trinion must take him something to eat. 
 But we must make absolutely sure that Marcus has left the 
 house before we stir a step. He is just shrewd enough to 
 come back here suddenly to see if he could not catch us in 
 some trickery.” 
 
 ‘And when he has really gone, what then?” 
 
 “TY think our guest will have to keep to his room pretty 
 closely and Nicon must contrive a hiding place for him —a 
 space under the floor of his own room or some nook he can 
 creep into so as never to be found. That hole in the garden 
 really isn’t a very good place. The idea came into my head 
 
168 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 the other day when I was tending the flowers with Trinion, 
 and I had him dig the hole and carry away the earth, little 
 thinking it would soon be put to use. We must not trust to 
 it again. But do call Thermion and let her find whether Mar- 
 cus has gone. I shan’t feel easy till I know he is out of the 
 house.” 
 
 The maid Thermion soon brought word that the centurion 
 had left. So Nicon was summoned and told to relieve Zatthu 
 from his uncomfortable hiding-place, while Xenodice, not in 
 a wholly satisfied and joyous mood, went to her husband. 
 
PART IIL—THE DAWNING LIGHT 169 
 
 XX 
 
 She found Aristarchus in a troubled state of mind. The 
 search over, Marcus had come to him good-naturedly, had 
 laughed over his failure and shown no resentment because an 
 enemy of Rome had been sheltered and perhaps even at that 
 very moment artfully concealed under his friend’s roof. But 
 because he had acted generously he asked that he be met in 
 the same spirit. He wanted Aristarchus to tell him how he 
 first ran across Zatthu and why he had befriended him. He 
 was also very desirous of learning how the Hebrew insurrec- 
 tion maker had escaped from the prison at Caesarea. For he 
 was sure the story of this strange feat had been told to 
 Aristarchus. 
 
 All this information the kindly and loyal Greek had cour- 
 teously but firmly refused to give. He realized in an instant 
 that he could not give it without mentioning Kelita and 
 Shobek and bringing them into dire peril. So, much against 
 his will, he had to withhold from a Roman officer knowledge 
 he was legally bound to give. Not without mortification he 
 saw he had been shortsighted. He had been drawn into a 
 very compromising situation by pressing hospitality upon the 
 man to whom he was deeply indebted. He would have done 
 more wisely to bring Zatthu under his roof for an hour only, 
 establish the relation of friendship with him and then let him 
 go and find shelter with his own people. But it was such a 
 strange chance that Marcus had seen Zatthu at Cesarea! 
 How provoking that Fortune should have played him such a 
 trick! Was she really a divinity, as the Greeks and Romans 
 believed, and did she take delight in tripping up too trusting 
 mortals by her outrageous tricks? 
 
 “Marcus,” he said, after thinking over his disagreeable 
 plight, “I cannot answer your questions; honor forbids. And 
 if you, a Roman officer before you are a friend, should arrest 
 
170 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 me and make me pay the penalty for refusing to tell you what 
 you have a right to ask, you would only be doing your duty. 
 But bear in mind that I have drifted into this painful posi- 
 tion merely through showing gratitude to a man who did me 
 a great service — saved my life, in fact, for that much it is 
 right that you should know. All my life I have been law- 
 abiding and have respected Rome’s authority under which I 
 have prospered. Possibly it would be to Rome’s interest to 
 keep me as a friend, for I might sometime be able to show her 
 that I was really a friend worth having. Nations as well as 
 individuals may profit by being generous.” 
 
 “IT shall not arrest you,” was Marcus’ ready answer. 
 “Rome will, I am satisfied, do well to keep you as a friend. 
 Moreover, this man cannot long escape us. Even if he should, 
 I believe him powerless to do harm. He is misguided and is 
 looking for help from above which I, a convert to his faith, 
 do not believe he will ever get. But in spite of the thorough- 
 ness of my search, I am not sure that he is not at this very 
 moment hidden somewhere in this house, and I shall therefore 
 place a cordon of soldiers around it. So I warn you not to 
 do anything which might make you openly and undeniably a 
 conspirator against Rome and really force me to place you 
 under arrest. 
 
 ‘And now, farewell. May your perplexity not keep your 
 wound from healing.” 
 
 Reading her husband’s disturbed state of mind the moment 
 she saw him, Xenodice let him speak before she said aught 
 herself. When he had told her what had passed between him- 
 self and Marcus, she merely inquired, 
 
 “How is your hurt, my dear husband?” 
 
 A little surprised that his narration seemed to arouse no 
 interest, he answered carelessly, 
 
 “Oh, much better, I think. My mind isn’t upon it in the 
 least. I have, as you can see, things vastly more important 
 to occupy it.” ; 
 
PART IT—THE DAWNING LIGHT aye 
 
 “There, I am convinced, you are very much mistaken,” was 
 the quiet answer. “You are still very much of an invalid. 
 Everything that might cause mental excitement and unrest 
 would seriously retard your recovery. I am going to be a 
 very strict physician for a while and keep you in utter igno- 
 rance of what is going on about you. You yourself, I am 
 sure, will see the wisdom of this and ask no questions either of 
 me or of Thisoa.” 
 
 Aristarchus looked at his wife very searchingly. ‘There 
 was no suspicion in his eye, not the smallest trace of resent- 
 ment. It was with a curiosity that grew into mingled admira- 
 tion and amusement that he studied the noble face with its 
 expression of deep tranquillity. Tranquil as it was, he was 
 not slow to read its meaning. Here was a prudence he had 
 never known to fail, a devotion no power on earth could cause 
 to falter. That audacious and resourceful daughter of his 
 was carrying through some deep-laid scheme which had found 
 the mother’s sanction. Yes, he could see it might be best for 
 him to be an invalid too weak to know what was passing under 
 his roof. 
 
 “You are probably right,” he soon answered. ‘You are 
 always right. I can always trust your judgment. Manage 
 the affairs of the house for a while; and perhaps you will 
 think it best to let very few persons see me. I shall not think 
 it strange if our Hebrew guest does not visit me for the 
 present; and possibly I might be sleeping if Marcus should 
 come again soon.” 
 
 The faintest suspicion of a smile showed in Xenodice’s face 
 as she looked gratefully at her husband, passed her hand 
 caressingly over his brow and said, 
 
 ‘You are as discerning as you are generous. It is good of 
 you to trust me, and I will try not to abuse the trust. But 
 what strange paths we sometimes have to tread through no 
 choice of our own! Here are you and I not sharing our 
 thoughts wholly for the first time in all these happy gracious 
 years. Well, my dear husband, it will not be for long.” 
 
172 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XXI 
 
 It was not a comfortable hiding place to which Zatthu had 
 been consigned. The hole was just large enough to admit 
 him. Still he was distressed neither in body nor in mind while 
 he was imprisoned in it. For he was too tense to think of 
 his physical well-being, and too trustful to be nervous or 
 alarmed. That this spirited Greek maiden had been ap- 
 pointed by Jehovah to save him, he fully believed. Hence, 
 when he dimly heard the door of the living room open and was 
 sure that the Roman centurion was inspecting the garden, 
 he felt no fear. 
 
 Not at all surprised was he therefore when he heard Trin- 
 ion telling him in a low voice that the immediate danger had 
 passed; that Marcus had looked the garden over without 
 suspicion and had gone back into the house; but that he 
 would have to remain where he was till the search was wholly 
 given up. 
 
 Tranquilly he waited and it was not till the middle of the 
 afternoon that Trinion moved the trough away and helped 
 him out of his narrow prison. Entering the living room he 
 found Xenodice and Thisoa there and they arranged with 
 him a plan of action. 
 
 Escape was not easy, the house being under surveillance. 
 The only way to effect it seemed to be through Kelita and 
 Shobek. ‘They would dare anything in his behalf. It was 
 necessary to communicate with them. 
 
 How was this to be done when the house was so closely 
 guarded? 'The members of the family would be allowed to go 
 where they pleased, but beyond question they would be noted 
 and followed. But after careful consultation a method of 
 procedure was determined upon, and the following day a 
 well matured attempt was made to act upon it. 
 
 Among the servants of Aristarchus was a shrewd and quick- 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 173 
 
 witted boy of fifteen, Akkub by name, whose parents belonged 
 to the poorer Hebrews of Capernaum. Left largely to him- 
 self from early childhood, he had acquired independence and 
 keenness of perception in manifold ways. By consorting with 
 other urchins of like circumstance he had learned the youth- 
 ful vagabond’s art of reading character. On the lake shore 
 he had listened to the talk of hard-headed fishermen. Fre- 
 quenting stalls and booths, he had become familiar with the 
 astute ways of the oriental trader. When therefore he took 
 service with Aristarchus at fifteen, he had the crafty and 
 discerning mind which is only gained in the school of ex- 
 perience. 
 
 Yet the experience had not made Akkub either hard or 
 treacherous while it had been making him clever. Aristarchus 
 had treated him kindly and had inspired in him a loyal affec- 
 tion. He could be trusted to do for his master any task that 
 called for intelligence and fidelity. And if the task was to 
 serve one of his own race, it would be sure to kindle an added 
 zeal. Akkub was a stout little patriot and ardently hated 
 the Romans. 
 
 The morning after the search Akkub was summoned to the 
 living room. There Xenodice and Thisoa acquainted him 
 with Zatthu’s peril. His black eyes flashed as he heard the 
 story, and no words were needed to show his sympathy and 
 his desire to be of service. Quite overjoyed with the mission 
 that was entrusted to him, he listened carefully to all the in- 
 structions that were given him, and with a light heart and a 
 confident step he started forth on his errand. 
 
 Hardly was he outside of the house when he began to play 
 antics. Exceedingly strong and agile, he had almost as full a 
 mastery of his body as a performing acrobat. Soldiers were 
 posted all around. Running rapidly toward the nearest he 
 turned a somersault in the air just in front of him, landed on 
 his feet and held out his hand for a coin. The soldier laughed 
 but shook his head. 
 
174 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “You are too well paid to get anything from me,” said he. 
 “But where did you learn to do that?” 
 
 “Some Arabs that did such things were here once. One of 
 them taught me. Don’t the Roman soldiers have to do like 
 things in camp?” 
 
 “Roman soldiers are taught how to fight, not to act like 
 monkeys. But what else can you do?” 
 
 By way of answer Akkub clambered up the soldier with 
 marvellous ease and dexterity and stood with his feet perched 
 on the man’s shoulders. Then, steadying himself by placing 
 one hand on the securely fastened helmet, he said, 
 
 “Now stand perfectly still and I will show you something 
 else.” 
 
 ‘How can you show me anything, you knave, when you 
 are up where I can’t see you? Come down and quit your fool- 
 ing. You are making me a laughing stock.” 
 
 The soldiers posted near were indeed laughing, though the 
 rigid Roman discipline did not permit them to gather around. 
 The man on whose shoulders Akkub had planted himself hap- 
 pened to be a decurion, and those under him were amused to 
 see his dignity thus lightly treated. But his threat did not in 
 the least disconcert the Hebrew boy. With airy effrontery 
 he answered, 
 
 “T am sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint your fellow 
 soldiers by having me come down without doing what I 
 climbed up here for. So just keep perfectly still for a mo- 
 ment.” 
 
 With that he attempted to reverse the order of nature by 
 standing with his feet in the air and his hands on the soldier’s 
 helmet. But this pressed the helmet down so hard upon the 
 decurion’s head that he became truly incensed and lurched 
 forward to shake off this vexing encumbrance. It was how- 
 ever exactly the movement that Akkub was expecting. Being 
 prepared for it, he landed on his feet, looked reproachfully at 
 the decurion and said, 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 175 
 
 “How can I do my tricks if you don’t help me out?” 
 
 “By Pollux, [ll help you out with a thrashing,” shouted 
 the decurion. And then overcome by the comic gravity of 
 Akkub’s face, he began to laugh and said good-naturedly, 
 “But you are a droll knave, though. It really isn’t worth 
 while to get angry with you. But no more monkey tricks. 
 Marcus the centurion would have taken my rank away from 
 me if he had seen you perched on my shoulders. What are 
 you out here for, anyway?” 
 
 “They sent me on an errand.” 
 
 ‘Who are ‘they’ ?” 
 
 “My master’s wife.” 
 
 *““What’s the errand?” 
 
 “To go to the physician, Malluch, and ask him for some 
 medicine. My master didn’t sleep well last night.” 
 
 ‘““No wonder. He knew he’d been playing Rome a nasty 
 trick and Rome doesn’t forget such things. But you’re a 
 pretty sort of messenger — acting like a monkey instead of 
 hurrying off to serve your sick master.” 
 
 Akkub looked sheepish and said meekly, 
 
 “When I get to performing, I can never think of anything 
 else.” 
 
 “Well, you ought to have a good thrashing to make you 
 remember better. But go on your way now, only one of my 
 men must go with you to see you don’t stir up any mischief. 
 Those are the orders. And if that physician wants to come 
 into the house, he will have to get a special permit from the 
 centurion. Those are the orders too.” 
 
 This said, he beckoned to one of the soldiers and when the 
 man drew near he sent Akkub out of hearing and said, 
 
 “Nevius, go with this young imp to the house of Malluch 
 the physician. Watch him closely when you arrive there and 
 see whether he hands over any paper. If he does, seize it and 
 go to the centurion with it, taking the boy with you. If no 
 paper is delivered, bring the rascal back here as soon as he 
 
176 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 has done his errand. Mind you keep a sharp watch on him 
 all the time, though I think he is harmless. His mind is on 
 the pranks he can play and not on his master’s service.” 
 
 Having largely disarmed suspicion by his tactics, Akkub 
 proceed to disarm it more completely as he and Nevius 
 went on their way together. Seemingly through pure exuber- 
 ance of spirit he cut up capers unceasingly. He turned hand- 
 springs; persons they met he mocked behind their backs; 
 he begged for alms; he exercised the boy’s ancient preroga- 
 tive of throwing stones. So by the time they reached the 
 house of Malluch the physician, he had thoroughly convinced 
 Nevius that he was a harum-scarum ragamuffin, as little likely 
 to be used for a deep-laid scheme as would a bird of the air. 
 
 Still, the trained Roman soldier did keep an eye on him 
 when they stood in the presence of Malluch. His reason for 
 accompanying Akkub he briefly explained to the physician 
 without putting him too much on his guard. Aristarchus was 
 suspected of harboring an enemy of Rome. So all who went 
 from his house had to be watched and their movements noted 
 carefully. But the errand of this Hebrew boy seemed a 
 proper one to which the centurion, well known to be a friend 
 of Aristarchus, would certainly not object. 
 
 Nevius was shrewd enough to make no mention of a pos- 
 sible paper. He was not shrewd enough to keep his eye every 
 instant on the supposedly guileless Hebrew boy. Even while 
 he was speaking, Akkub winked so hard at Malluch as to show 
 him that his errand had an ulterior end. He also placed him- 
 self a little back of Nevius just long enough to flash upon the 
 eye of the physician a paper which he had as quickly con- 
 cealed again in his garment. But the sight was enough. Mal- 
 luch, keen and alert as ever in spite of his white hair, under- 
 stood that in the few moments that followed he was to be the 
 boy’s active confederate and coadjutor. 
 
 Briefly Akkub confirmed what Nevius had said about his 
 errand. Aristarchus, his master, had not had a very good 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT PiGa 
 
 night. He wished something that would make him sleep, but 
 the physician did not need to go to the house. The medicine 
 sent with Akkub would be enough. 
 
 This said, Akkub proceeded to stand on his head and walk 
 about the room on his hands. Nevius looked at him and then 
 at Malluch. He was a little puzzled. Would this dignified 
 and venerable man allow such levity to go unrebuked? 
 
 With a smile the old Hebrew answered his querying glance 
 and said, 
 
 “Don’t mind that impudent, mischievous boy. I know him 
 of old. As soon expect fishes to fly and birds to burrow as 
 that young rascal to behave himself. Just look at this 
 Roman coin a friend of mine found in Egypt. It’s well worn, 
 isn’t it? Perhaps your great Julius Cesar handled it once.” 
 
 Nevius examined the coin just long enough to let Akkub 
 do what he wanted. Still walking on his hands he got behind 
 the unsuspicious Roman, balanced himself for a moment on 
 one hand and with the other thrust the paper under a roll of 
 manuscript lying on a table close by. Then he continued his 
 brachiapedic gyration till he was directly in front of Nevius. 
 There with an agile spring, he landed on his feet. 
 
 None of his movements had escaped the eye of Malluch. 
 Still, the crafty old Hebrew seemed all the time to be busy at 
 a cabinet of olive wood in which he kept his drugs and simples. 
 From these he prepared the remedy needed by Aristarchus, 
 pausing now and then to address a remark to the Roman. 
 The medicine ready, he gave it to Akkub, and the Hebrew 
 boy and his custodian went on their way. Hardly had they 
 left the house ere Malluch possessed himself of the secreted 
 paper and eagerly perused the full instructions therein given. 
 He knew of Zatthu. The fire of patriotism burned strongly 
 in him. ‘The directions were no sooner read than they were 
 carried out to the letter. 
 
 Elated by his success in hoodwinking Nevius, Akkub in- 
 dulged in wilder antics than ever on the way back to the dwell- 
 
178 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ing of Aristarchus. Arriving there, he was too cunning to 
 hasten inside at once, much as he longed to do so and make 
 known the success of his mission. Again he attempted to 
 entertain the decurion with acrobatic feats. Again the half- 
 amused and half-irate officer told him to stop, as such antics 
 were unbecoming. So with a grimace as if he felt that his 
 efforts were unappreciated, he went slowly and seemingly with 
 reluctance into the house. There he was met at once by 
 Xenodice and Thisoa, who rejoiced not a little to learn 
 that the all-important missive had reached its destination. 
 Eagerly they waited the assurance that was to be given them 
 at midday if their plan promised success. 
 
 Not only eagerly but confidently they awaited the issue; 
 for it really seemed as if Akkub had performed his task with 
 cleverness and skill. That this was so could hardly be denied. 
 None the less it was largely through good fortune that every- 
 thing finally went well. Akkub had over-acted his part. Had 
 Marcus known of his antics he would have been suspicious. 
 He would have been sure that mischief was on foot and would 
 have doubled the guard around Aristarchus’ house — the 
 very thing Xenodice and Thisoa were plotting to prevent. It 
 was easy enough to get word to Zatthu’s friends. Either 
 Xenodice or Thisoa could have gone whither she pleased, un- 
 molested. But the movements of either of them would have 
 been carefully noted and communication with those who could 
 help Zatthu to freedom would have been discovered and would 
 have caused extra precautions to be taken to prevent his 
 escape. 
 
 Akkub was chosen because it was thought he could be the 
 intermediary without making the Romans extraordinarily 
 watchful. And so it proved, for the reason that Luscus, the 
 decurion, was by no means an astute man. When Nevius 
 came back from Malluch’s with Akkub, the decurion asked 
 him to tell all that had happened. Nevius’ reply was brief. 
 The Hebrew lad had asked Malluch for medicine, had received 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 179 
 
 it and brought it away. Had no paper been passed? No, 
 none. 
 
 Luscus was satisfied. He considered the boy an empty- 
 headed scamp, too playful to be trusted with any matter of 
 importance. Accordingly, when Marcus came to the house 
 a little before midday and got the decurion’s report, Nevius 
 told of the errand to Malluch but he quite omitted Akkub’s 
 remarkable feats of agility from his account. Assured that 
 no paper had been handed to Malluch, Marcus saw nothing 
 suspicious in the errand and proceeded to the house to inquire 
 after Aristarchus. At the door he was told that the Greek 
 was asleep and could not be disturbed. Was Xenodice well? 
 Quite so. And her daughter? His young mistress, the door- 
 keeper said, had recovered from her slight illness of the day 
 before. At this intelligence Marcus smiled grimly, but went 
 away without asking further questions. 
 
 Could he have watched Xenodice and Thisoa and noted 
 what they saw, he would certainly have doubled the guard 
 around the dwelling before the sun went down. For just at 
 midday Xenodice and Thisoa posted themselves where they 
 could observe the nearest house, the inmates of which were 
 Hebrews. Expectantly they kept their eyes upon it, and 
 they had not long to wait. A little after midday a veiled 
 woman appeared upon the housetop and slowly turned her- 
 self about three times. 
 
 “She has followed the course of the sun,” murmured Xeno- 
 dice, “and all will be well. Kelita and Shobeck have got the 
 message and the rescue will be made tonight.” 
 
 For the veiled woman was the only daughter of Malluch 
 and the instructions given in the paper craftily placed by 
 Akkub had been followed to the letter. 
 
180 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XXIT 
 
 That Marcus wished to treat the household of Aristarchus 
 with all possible respect he had clearly shown. A sudden 
 renewal of the search for the Hebrew fugitive was hardly to 
 be expected. Still, his plight was too desperate to allow the 
 smallest risk to be taken. 'The slowly dragging hours in 
 which he waited for deliverance he spent in Nicon’s room. In 
 case of alarm he could instantly conceal himself there behind 
 a partition which Nicon, who had a good degree of mechani- 
 cal skill, had artfully made to appear solid and substantial. 
 
 It was here that Zatthu got word of the seeming success 
 of Xenodice’s efforts in his behalf and of the attempt his 
 friends would surely make to rescue him in the course of the 
 coming night. That this was proof of Jehovah’s approval 
 and protection he devoutly believed; and dark though his 
 immediate prospects were, he was full of hope and courage. 
 He was an outlaw. Rome was hunting him. If captured he 
 would be summarily put to death. And how could a fugitive 
 from justice cause a rising in Galilee that would even shake 
 the deep-bedded rock of Roman sovereignty? The task 
 seemed an impossible one; but was it more so than that of 
 Moses? 
 
 The one thing needed was faith. This he had told his 
 people again and again. He must not himself be wanting in 
 it in this hour of trial. He was not wanting in it. He was 
 thrilled with a sense of Jehovah’s omnipotence. What were 
 Rome and the legions of Rome before it? As he thought how 
 whole armies might melt at the breath of God’s displeasure, 
 he cried out in the words of Jeremiah, 
 
 “TY will make thee unto this people a fenced brazen wall; 
 and they shall not prevail against thee; for I am with thee to 
 save thee and to deliver thee, saith the Lord.” 
 
 In the early evening he sent word through Nicon that he 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 181 
 
 wished to see Xenodice and Thisoa. The message was gladly 
 received. They too were desirous of a last word with him be- 
 fore he left the house with the sword still hanging over his 
 head. Nicon ushered him into their receiving room. It was 
 into grave and sober faces that he looked as he entered it, 
 but his own countenance was illumined by his exalted mood 
 and his eyes were bright with more than their wonted fire. 
 
 “T am so rejoiced to see that you are not cast down by the 
 dangers that surround you,” said Xenodice as she went 
 quickly forward to meet him. “You are indeed brave to keep 
 so confident a spirit in the midst of these dire alarms.” 
 
 “My confidence is not my own,” was the reply. “It is 
 given me by the God of my people. Why should I doubt? 
 Why should I fear? He who walked with his three faithful 
 servants in the fiery furnace can deliver me from a few hostile 
 swords.” 
 
 “And He will! He will! cried Thisoa, with clasped hands 
 uplifted as if in appeal to the Power in whom Zatthu trusted. 
 “This night you shall be free and laugh at your enemies.” 
 
 There was a softer light in Zatthu’s eye as he looked at the 
 spirited girl and was touched by her noble enthusiasm. It 
 was as if the spiritual fire that burned in his soul caught the 
 glow of pure human feeling. How strangely God was leading 
 him! What unlooked for instruments He was raising up to 
 save him from destruction! In that moment of supremest 
 peril when the hand of Rome had almost been laid upon him, 
 it was not the armed men of Israel that had preserved him. 
 It was a maid who was not of his own people and who had had 
 no weapon but her own quickwittedness. And even at this 
 very moment when he was waiting for his chosen comrades to 
 compass his deliverance, he was shielded by an alien household 
 and its trusty servants. Verily, here was a lesson he must 
 read in all humbleness. Through all the days Jehovah 
 allotted to him, he must be careful not to spurn any instru- 
 
182 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ments, however seemingly untoward, that might be put into 
 his hands. 
 
 “Yes,” he said, “I shall soon be free. I shall soon be far 
 from Capernaum among the Galilean hills. And it is to you 
 that I shall owe my freedom.” 
 
 ‘““No, not to us,” replied Xenodice. ‘To the brave men who 
 who will soon strike the blow that will give you your freedom.” 
 
 “Ah, but what could Shobek and Kelita do, what would 
 they have had the chance to do, if this house had not stood 
 between me and death? May Jehovah shower his richest mer- 
 cies upon you for your generous kindness to a stranger. 
 Your husband,” he went on, looking at Xenodice, “has pros- 
 pered. It is because he is a righteous man. Jehovah will 
 make him prosper to the end of his days.” 
 
 “My husband is a righteous man,” said Xenodice proudly. 
 “No one of your favored nation was ever more upright than 
 he.” 
 
 “No, not one,” added Zatthu solemnly. ‘He could have 
 said with our great Samuel: ‘Whom have I defrauded? 
 Whom have I oppressed? Or of whose hand have I received 
 any bribe?’ It grieves me sorely that his generosity to me 
 has brought him into trouble. It grieves me too that you are 
 forced to keep him in ignorance of the shelter and protection 
 you have given me. You are sure he will not be offended with 
 you both?” 
 
 “We are as sure,” said Thisoa with a merry laugh which 
 burst upon their solemn gravity like a gleam of sunshine, “as 
 we are that the moon is round or that a dog will growl if you 
 take away his bone. Why, it is going to be the happiest hour 
 I have ever had when I tell him how I hid you in the garden 
 and outwitted Marcus.” 
 
 “And his friend the centurion will bear no grudge against 
 him?” 
 
 “For the pranks his wife and daughter played while he was 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 183 
 
 taking a nap? How absurd that would be! As well blame a 
 _mole for being blind or a cat for having a tail!” 
 
 Thisoa had such an arch and roguish look as she said this 
 that Zatthu could but smile. Just for an instant the wrongs 
 of Judea and his own grave peril seemed far away. He could 
 but look admiringly into the bright mirthful eyes and feel 
 that never did lips curve into such a bewitching smile. But it - 
 was only for an instant. ‘Too solemn was his mood, too deep 
 his sense that Jehovah’s voice had called him as with a trum- 
 pet to allow an earthborn sentiment to linger in his heart. 
 Quickly the smile vanished and he was once more the man 
 dominated solely by a sublime heroic purpose as he answered, 
 
 “Glad I am to hear it, and glad too to see good in this 
 Roman who would bring about my death. I bear him no ill 
 will. He has but done his duty. But let Aristarchus know 
 how much I honor him, how sorry I am to have given such a 
 poor return for his hospitality, and how deeply I regret that 
 I could not see him to say farewell.” 
 
 ‘He shall be told,” answered Xenodice. “He will remem- 
 ber you most kindly, as my daughter and I shall also. 
 Friendly to Rome as we have always been and have reason to 
 be, we cannot help wishing that your cause may triumph. 
 Rome could still be great though Judea should be free.” 
 
 “And Judea shall be free,” cried Thisoa, whose eyes no 
 longer sparkled with merriment but flashed with the fire of an 
 ardent sympathy. “She shall be free and you shall free her. 
 Your Jehovah is with you. He has raised you up to do things 
 as great as your Moses and all your mighty men of old. 
 When generations have passed the mothers of Israel will bless 
 you because their babes can breathe the air of freedom. Go 
 forth! Go forth and conquer! This house will always be 
 proud that it sheltered one of Jud#a’s noblest sons.” 
 
 Thisoa stretched forth her hands as she said these words 
 with face raised heavenward. 'Thrilled by her fervor and 
 even awed by it, Zatthu stood transfixed for a moment and his 
 
184 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 thoughts went back to the great things in his nation’s past. 
 Almost could he believe that he stood in the presence of a 
 Deborah who had been inspired to give him heaven’s own sanc- 
 tion. Reverently he bowed his head as he answered, 
 
 “Amen to your words of cheer and benediction. Sure am I 
 that if my own people give me the trust and sympathy I have 
 found in this generous mansion, I cannot fail. May Jehovah 
 bless you all for your noble faith in one who but a few days 
 since was altogether a stranger. And now I will go and 
 await what the night will bring forth. But let us keep a 
 stout heart in the meantime. All will certainly go well.” 
 
 Zatthu now stationed himself just within the main entrance 
 to the dwelling, ready to issue forth instantly when the right 
 moment came. With him was the trusty Nicon to speed his 
 movements. Calm, but with anxious hearts, Xenodice and 
 Thisoa remained in their own receiving room for a while; but 
 toward midnight Xenodice went to her husband’s bedside. 
 The time had nearly come for Aristarchus to be told of what 
 had passed beneath his very roof and what even then was 
 passing. 
 
 Just at midnight the time came. Of a sudden loud shouts 
 were heard that seemed to come from the rear of the dwelling. 
 They woke Aristarchus from his slumber and but for Xeno- 
 dice’s staying hand he would have started up in bed, forget- 
 ful of his wound; for startling was the din, and cries of 
 “Rescue! Rescue! Rescue for Zatthu!” could be plainly 
 heard. 
 
 “Be quiet, my dear husband,” said Xenodice calmly. 
 “There is no occasion for alarm.” 
 
 “But what does it all mean?” 
 
 “Tt means that Zatthu has been hidden here since he came 
 from the synagogue yesterday, and his friends are now effect- 
 ing his escape.” 
 
 “He was hidden here all the time and Marcus did not find 
 him?” 
 
PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 185 
 
 “Even so.” 
 
 “How I shall laugh at my good friend the centurion over 
 that!” 
 
 But the smile upon his face gave way to a troubled expres- 
 sion as the tumult increased, the shouting grew still louder, 
 and the clash of arms was heard. 
 
 “T am glad he was not found,” he went on, “but this sound 
 of fighting distresses me sorely. It means bloodshed. It 
 means that Roman soldiers will be hurt or killed because my 
 house has sheltered a man condemned by Pontius Pilate. Mar- 
 cus is generous but he can hardly condone such violence as 
 that.” 
 
 “Do not be troubled. There will be no bloodshed. Our 
 Hebrew guest is a man of honor and I think he would rather 
 have gone to his death than have embroiled you with Rome 
 or broken your friendship with Marcus. He saw that if any 
 of the soldiers on guard here were killed, you would be held 
 accountable for their death. His plans were therefore laid 
 carefully to avoid any such happening. His two friends, 
 Kelita and Shobek, have been strictly charged to refrain from 
 taking life and to avoid violence so far as possible. Kelita 
 with a numerous band was to raise a commotion in the rear 
 of the house which would be sure to draw there nearly all of 
 the force that is stationed round the house. Even the sen- 
 tries specially enjoined to watch all the exits would have 
 their attention absorbed by the assault that was apparently 
 being made. But the assault was only to be a feigned one, 
 and during the din and tumult Shobek and two other power- 
 ful men were to steal upon the soldier guarding the main door 
 and overpower him. Then three raps upon the door would 
 give the signal to Zatthu who has for sometime been waiting 
 there with Nicon. As soon as the raps were given Zatthu 
 was to dart forth into the night and flee to the hills with 
 Shobek, where Kelita would find them if he did not succeed in 
 joining them in the dark. 
 
186 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ‘Such was the plan. That it has already been carried out 
 successfully, I have no doubt. Hark! Do you not see that 
 the shouting is growing fainter, is subsiding altogether? And 
 listen again! Do you not hear that Halleluiah twice re- 
 peated? That was to be the signal to us here that every- 
 thing had gone as we had hoped and that Zatthu was on his 
 way to liberty.” 7 
 
 “Yes, he is on his way to liberty,” said Thisoa who came 
 in with a beaming face? ‘‘He will soon be in the Galilean hills 
 where Rome will never find him — and father, aren’t you glad 
 and thankful in your heart of hearts?” 
 
 “Yes,” replied Aristarchus drily. ‘I cannot help being 
 glad. But the extent of my gladness depends upon the num- 
 ber of Roman corpses lying round my house.” 
 
 b) 
 
Part III 
 THISOA 
 

 
 
 
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 ei unten) ic, i Na! 4 ‘ele v 
 
 Nu 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
PART III—THISOA 189 
 
 I 
 
 “What makes you so sad, Thisoa?” 
 
 “Do I seem sad?” 7 
 
 “Indeed you do. I almost feel as if I ought to go home 
 and play with my doll Rachel. She is real good company and 
 I have such nice times playing with her.” 
 
 “Twelve years old and still fond of your doll! Well, I’m 
 glad that it is so. Be a child as long as you can, my dear 
 little Naomi. When you are a woman, there will be times per- 
 haps when you will wish you could forget all your troubles 
 by having a good cry or playing with your doll.” 
 
 ‘Have you any troubles, dear Thisoa?” 
 
 “To be sure I have. Every woman has troubles. She 
 wouldn’t be a woman if she didn’t.” 
 
 ““Won’t you tell me about them?” 
 
 “No, dear child. You wouldn’t understand. But I don’t 
 want you to go away. I love to have you near me and it was 
 naughty of me to look sad. I won’t do so any more and I 
 want you to tell me how you play with your doll Rachel. 
 How came you to call her that?” 
 
 “Because I liked it. Don’t you think it’s a pretty name?” 
 
 “Very pretty. But who was Rachel?” 
 
 “Why, don’t you know who Rachel was? Oh, I forgot. 
 You are not of our people. Well, Rachel was the wife of 
 Jacob — that is, she was one of his wives. He had another 
 named Leah. [I didn’t know that a man needed more than one. 
 Father has only one, so I asked mother once if he was going 
 to get another. But she said I wasn’t old enough to under- 
 stand about such things. I don’t believe she’d like it a bit to 
 see another around. Do you?” 
 
 “T am sure she wouldn’t. But tell me about Rachel and the 
 little plays you have with her. I don’t believe my doll was 
 half as nice as she.” 
 
190 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “I’m sure she wasn’t any nicer. I just love Rachel. You 
 see, mother has taught me how she could be a good many 
 different persons — not all at once, you know. She’s very, 
 very clever, but she couldn’t do that. But sometimes she is 
 Pharaoh’s daughter finding little Moses in the rushes. I 
 think I like best for her to be that, for then she takes up 
 Moses — he’s a tiny little thing that mother made for me out 
 of a bit of old linen — and she loves him very dearly. Then 
 sometimes she is Miriam leading the women who had just 
 come through the Red Sea in the dance. Sometimes she is 
 Queen Esther. She likes that. It makes her very proud to 
 be a queen. And once in a while I have her be Jephthah’s 
 daughter. She doesn’t enjoy that very much, though. - You 
 know she has to be killed, and after she’s dead I have to have 
 Elijah the prophet come and bring her to life again. Mother 
 says he couldn’t have done it, for he wasn’t born then. But 
 somebody has to do it, and it might just as well be Elijah as 
 any one. But do you think Jephthah ought to have killed 
 his very own daughter just because of a silly oath?” 
 
 And thus the little maid of twelve, who had kept her child- 
 ishness as not all girls of that age do in the Orient, helped her 
 maturer friend to while away some of the weary hours. It was 
 the third day after Zatthu had taken his leave amidst noises 
 and alarms. Since he had gone Thisoa found there was a 
 strange void in the house. It was felt indeed by all. Aris- 
 tarchus said each morning, when Xenodice came to greet 
 him and see if his wound was healing as fast as it should, that 
 his first thought when he waked was of his departed guest. 
 Xenodice herself admitted that the common everyday inter- 
 ests seemed tame. Even the servants talked chiefly about 
 Zatthu and hoped he was where Rome would not get hold of 
 him. And Thisoa could not get absorbed in any of her 
 favorite books or in any kind of handiwork. ‘Where is 
 Zatthu?” she found herself continually asking. And what 
 
PART IlI—THISOA 191 
 
 was he doing day by day in those hills toward which her eyes 
 were ever turning? How she longed to know! 
 
 But no tidings came. No tidings could come till some piece 
 of good fortune brought them. An outlaw cannot give clues 
 to his whereabout. Because he is an outlaw, he must keep out 
 of communication with the seats of authority. The Romans 
 in Capernaum were vigilantly seeking news of the man who 
 had mocked them by slipping out of their hands. To give 
 them the slightest opportunity of getting on his track would 
 be a grievous mistake. No, to all in Capernaum Zatthu was 
 for a while deeply buried in those hills that looked down on 
 the Lake of Gennesaret. Not even the Pharisees and elders 
 who had given favorable ear to his pleadings got any word 
 from him. 
 
 So Thisoa had to still the longings of her heart as best she 
 could. In companionship she found most solace. She spent 
 hours by her father’s bedside. She talked much with her 
 mother, with whom her relation was very close and tender, 
 though not now unreservedly. To no one could she yet reveal 
 her deepest feelings. And the society of such friends as she 
 had was very grateful. These were indeed few. Thisoa’s in- 
 terests were too large and too intellectual to be shared by the 
 young women who grew up in the guarded seclusion of an 
 oriental city. For this reason in part she found the com- 
 pany of her little friend Naomi diverting. Im spite of the 
 difference in years the two had long been warmly attached. 
 The girl lived only a few streets away. She was the only 
 daughter of Jairus, an elder of the synagogue and a man 
 whom her father greatly esteemed. The relations of the two 
 households being most friendly, the child had for several 
 years been in the habit of running to see this older acquaint- 
 ance who always gave her a warm greeting. Because she was 
 a child a freedom was allowed her which to the oriental woman 
 is denied. 
 
 But there was one woman in Capernaum whom Thisoa 
 
192 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 found wholly and deeply sympathetic and with whom she had 
 formed an intimacy. This was Naarah, the wife of Marcus. 
 To her she went a few days after Zatthu’s leave-taking, for 
 the satisfaction given by a genial and responsive mind. 
 
 “Naarah,” she said as the two friends exchanged greet- 
 ings, “the dullest maid in Capernaum has come to spend an 
 hour with you. Send her home if you find her unbearable.” 
 
 ‘You are making a poor beginning if you expect that to 
 happen,” answered Naarah with the touch of genial sarcasm 
 that sometimes marked her rejoinders. 
 
 “You judge too quickly. I am so low-spirited I am a tor- 
 ment to myself and I have come to torment you.” 
 
 “Do begin right away. It is a kind of torment that I 
 always find highly enjoyable.” 
 
 ‘‘Because you are so generous and unselfish. How good 
 you are to give me always so warm a welcome! You seem as 
 glad to see me as if you hadn’t as splendid a husband as ever 
 a woman found to take up your thoughts, and two beautiful 
 children to call for all your care.” 
 
 Thisoa looked at her friend admiringly as she said this; 
 and Naarah was indeed fair to see. The years of her married 
 life had been so supremely happy that they had left no marks 
 of care. Joy shone from the face, and in sweet content it 
 was even more beautiful than when it had captivated Marcus 
 at Rome four years before. Motherly pride now beamed 
 from it at Thisoa’s mention of her children and she said, 
 
 “They are sweet and dear in their innocence, are they not?” 
 
 ‘And thereupon she lifted up the older, a sturdy blue-eyed 
 boy of three, whose resemblance to his father was already 
 striking, who had been clinging to her and gazing at the 
 visitor in round-eyed wonder. ‘To this challenge to her ad- 
 miration 'Thisoa responded by taking the little fellow in her 
 arms and fondling him so tenderly that the childish stare was 
 soon replaced by a look of contentment and the tiny lips 
 broke into a smile. 
 
PART III—THISOA 193 
 
 “His precious little heart is a loving one,” she said. “O 
 Naarah, I think you are the richest woman in the world.” 
 
 “So I think too,” answered Naarah archly. “But come 
 and see my little Deborah, though I know it will make you 
 envy me to look at her. She is a little fretful today, so I am 
 letting her lie in her cradle.” 
 
 They went into an adjoining room where lay a year-old 
 babe that had its mother’s full dark eyes. Kneeling by its 
 cradle Naarah uttered a few soft notes in the universal 
 mother’s language, and the babe which had been restless and 
 peevish looked gleefully up and held out its dimpled arms. 
 
 “Yes, I should envy any one but you, Naarah,” said Thisoa 
 very gently. “But I can only feel that your Jehovah has 
 joyed in filling your cup of happiness very full. He knew 
 he was giving you only what you deserved.” 
 
 ‘“Won’t you tell me about your life in Rome,” she asked 
 when the two friends sat down to talk together, “and how you 
 and Marcus met and learned to care for each other?” 
 
 “Why, Thisoa! How can you want to listen to that old, 
 old story of mine again?” 
 
 “Just because it is the most beautiful one I have ever 
 heard.” 
 
 Naarah did not instantly reply. Her quick mind divined 
 that there was an unmentioned reason lurking behind this 
 unexpected request. From her own people she had been hear- 
 ing about Zatthu and his appealing personality. Her hus- 
 band had kept her informed about those doings in the house 
 of Aristarchus that had been the talk of all Capernaum. The 
 romance of her own life came back to her and she read the 
 mind of her friend. For a moment her mind turned to those 
 days — how far off they now seemed and yet how fresh was 
 their memory ! — when she loved Marcus even though she had 
 no hope of ever seeing him again. Yes, she of all women 
 could appreciate and respect those hidden yearnings which 
 Thisoa could only gratify by listening to a deep emotional 
 
194 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 experience that in its beginning was not unlike her own. So 
 it was with a bright and cheery voice that she soon answered, 
 
 “Why, surely I will tell the story again if you really wish 
 to hear it. I have never dwelt upon those Roman days to any 
 one but you. The experience was too sacred. But there is 
 little in my heart I am unwilling for you to see.” 
 
 So Naarah told how she accosted Marcus in a street in 
 Rome when he was playful enough with a flower girl to 
 frighten her though he would have done her no wrong; how 
 she had come face to face with him at the Theater of Mar- 
 cellus when the terrified mass of spectators was stampeding 
 for the exits; how she had recognized him through his dis- 
 guise when he fought as a gladiator in the Circus Maximus 
 and had been unable to tear herself away from the terrible 
 conflict though it almost made her heart stop beating to wit- 
 ness it; how Marcus had saved her from an awful fate at a 
 low pleasure resort into which she had been kidnapped and 
 had taken her to her home; how he was stabbed just outside 
 of her grandfather’s door and borne unconscious within; 
 and how, as she nursed and tended him, she found that he 
 had loved her even from their first strange meeting but had 
 tried to rule the love out of his heart because she was of a 
 race the Romans looked on with no favor. 
 
 “And you loved him, Naarah, even before you knew he had 
 given his heart to you?” 
 
 “That is a question you must not ask,” replied Naarah 
 smilingly. “I have told you the story. It must speak for 
 itself.” 
 
 “Well, if it has to speak for itself, I will tell you what it 
 says tome. You did not know you loved Marcus till you saw 
 him fight the gladiator. But as you watched him then, your 
 heart told you you would be wretched and unhappy if you 
 saw him fall; and from that time any man but he would have 
 had a hard task to win you, even though you never thought 
 
PART III—THISOA 195 
 
 to see him again. Now, tell me, Naarah dear, didn’t the story 
 speak the truth when it made me interpret it so?” 
 
 “T have heard of pupils who were wiser than their teach- 
 ers,” was Naarah’s sole response. | 
 
 “It is true!’ cried Thisoa clapping her hands in delight. 
 “It is true, and you cannot deny it. It just had to be so. 
 You saw in Marcus a man so heroic, so strong; so magnificent 
 that the woman in you was touched as it could be but once 
 only. You need not try to cover it up. It was a thing to be 
 proud of. Haven’t we women hearts that yearn to give the 
 devotion that lifts us up and ennobles us and is stronger even 
 than death?” 
 
 The thought that pressed itself home in Naarah’s mind 
 she did not express. Still more sure did she feel that Thisoa’s 
 own heart had been touched. This her friend would sometime 
 reveal. But she would wait for the confidence and by words 
 wisely chosen instil the sympathy and comfort she could not 
 openly give. Quietly and soberly she answered, 
 
 “It is all true, my dear friend. To love nobly and deeply 
 is a woman’s glory. Even though the love be not returned, 
 she can wear it as a sacred garment that helps to whiten and 
 beautify the soul. And if it is given back as she gives it, it 
 makes her life radiant with joy. But alas! how seldom does 
 that occur! Sometimes I cannot help wondering that Jehovah 
 made the world as it is. 
 
 “But why am I saying all this? I think even Solomon was 
 puzzled by what he saw and went through — and dear me! 
 I don’t wonder that he was, he had so many wives. Let us talk 
 of what we can understand. Here you are, just full of news 
 I want to hear and you haven’t told me a word of it yet. You 
 know I haven’t seen you once since that bold man of my people 
 was taken into your house and caused such a turbulent time. 
 Tell me the whole story. It is your turn to talk and mine to 
 listen.” 
 
 “But hasn’t Marcus related everything that happened?” 
 
196 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Of course. But Marcus is a Roman officer. He told 
 things as he saw them. I wish to know how they looked to 
 you.” 
 
 “But Marcus is always so fair and just.” 
 
 “True. No man could be more so. But the justest man 
 in the world must give things the color of his own mind. He, 
 vested with Rome’s authority, had to look upon Zatthu as a 
 criminal and try to find him. You, whose guest he was, had 
 to try and hide him. Ah, how I laughed at Marcus for being 
 outwitted !” 
 
 “Wasn’t he angry with you?” 
 
 “Marcus angry with me? Why, Thisoa, what a question! 
 Marcus never was angry with me and never could be. Of 
 course I was glad he didn’t capture Zatthu. Isn’t he one of 
 my own people?” 
 
 “Did Marcus in his heart wish to capture him and have 
 him put to death?” 
 
 “In his heart, no. Yet he was naturally vexed at failing 
 in a thing he had undertaken. But do begin your story.” 
 
 So Thisoa began and gave a vivid account of the things 
 the reader has been told in preceding chapters. So spirited 
 was the narration that Naarah followed it with the liveliest 
 interest; and in spite of Thisoa’s reserves she saw how and 
 why Zatthu’s ardent, soaring spirit had deeply impressed the 
 generous mind of her friend. When the story was ended she 
 said with a burst of pride, 
 
 ‘And he deserved to be free. It was noble of him to order 
 that none of the soldiers guarding the house should be slain. 
 Such a man is worthy to lead and to deliver our people.” 
 
 “And no one was killed or seriously hurt. I was so thankful 
 when I learned the next morning that it was so. Didn’t Mar- 
 cus admire Zatthu for acting so honorably?” 
 
 “T hear his step in the doorway now. He shall tell you 
 himself.” 
 
PART III—THISOA 197 
 
 II 
 
 Naarah was sitting with her visitor in a small room, not 
 far from the street door of the house, which opened into the 
 one where the little Deborah was resting in her cradle. As 
 soons as Marcus had entered she called to him, 
 
 “Come hither, Marcus, please. Come hither and bow to a 
 mind more clever and quick-witted than your own.” 
 
 Marcus came in with a smile. 
 
 “IT did not need to set eyes on you,” he said as he greeted 
 Thisoa cordially, ‘to know who was meant by those mischiev- 
 ous words of my wife; and I am quite ready to bow to a craft 
 which showed itself superior to mine.” 
 
 So saying he made Thisoa a very low and stately bow. 
 
 ‘‘And now that I have done this act of homage,” he re- 
 sumed, “I hope I have won the right to ask just how I was out- 
 witted.” 
 
 Thisoa flushed and said laughingly, 
 
 ‘You are a gallant enemy and recognize that all is fair in 
 war. But supposing the war should be on again. What 
 then?” 
 
 “Oh, it never will be. Never again will a Hebrew sedi- 
 tion-maker take refuge in your father’s house and be hunted 
 by me and my soldiers. But as you are not inclined to betray 
 your secrets, suppose I play the diviner and say that I paid 
 too much attention to that missing key and the rooms it might 
 have unlocked and too little to the garden where Trinion was 
 watering the flowers?” 
 
 “Who taught you divination, Marcus? It could not have 
 been been Apollo, for you never believed in him.” 
 
 “No, but was my teacher not a wise one, no matter who 
 he was?” | 
 
 “So wise that I think I should like to take some lessons 
 from him. But you are welcome to my secret, for surely you 
 
198 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 are right in thinking that I shall never again have to exercise 
 my wits in hiding from you a fugitive from Roman justice. 
 We will be friends and if our Hebrew guest visits us again we 
 will ask you to come and sup with him.” 
 
 ‘Thinking, I suppose, that as he would not let my men be 
 slain he would not thrust a dagger into me.” 
 
 ‘““No, of course he would not do that. He is a man of 
 honor. But thinking you would be glad to know him as a 
 friend.” 
 
 “If he were not Rome’s bitter and uncompromising enemy,” 
 said Marcus, looking grave and abandoning his bantering 
 mood, “‘I should indeed be glad to make a friend of him. His 
 is a generous and noble nature. Loath, very loath I was to 
 hunt him with armed men — all the more so because I believe 
 he has done his worst and Rome stands in no danger from 
 him.” 
 
 Thisoa’s face lost some of its color as Marcus pronounced 
 Zatthu not dangerous to Rome. This he noticed. He caught 
 too and understood a significant look from Naarah which 
 Thisoa was too intently looking at Marcus to observe. He 
 would be careful not to wound this spirited girl unnecessarily 
 or rudely cast down her hopes. Still he felt it would be well 
 for her to know the truth as he saw it. 
 
 “Why,” asked Thisoa anxiously, “do you think Zatthu 
 has done his worst? Why do you think Rome need not fear 
 him?” 
 
 “Because her military strength is unconquerable. Every 
 army raised against her will break upon her iron legions as 
 the mightiest billows break upon the rocks.” 
 
 “But,” exclaimed Naarah, eager to show her Hebrew sym- 
 pathies and eager also to support her friend, “that is what 
 Zatthu himself believes. It is not with armies in themselves 
 that he hopes to conquer Rome. It is with armies led to vic- 
 tory by the living God.” 
 
 “Yes, yes, you understand,” cried Thisoa. ‘He is sure 
 
PART II—THISOA 199 
 
 that the Jehovah he worships will smite the Romans as He 
 smote the Egyptians in the days of old. Oh, he must, he 
 surely will succeed.” 
 
 “Yes,” said Marcus, “he surely will succeed if Jehovah aids 
 him as He aided Moses against Pharaoh.” 
 
 “But you have just declared that Rome is unconquerable 
 and need not fear him,” said Thisoa in astonishment. 
 
 “T spoke truly. Judea’s armies can never conquer Rome. 
 There is no limit to the might of Jehovah.” 
 
 “But He will not act with Zatthu and give him the vic- 
 tory?” 
 
 “TI do not say. JI am not a prophet.” 
 
 “But what do you think?” 
 
 “That question I am slow to answer. You have faith in 
 Zatthu. So has Naarah. So have many. His enthusiasm is 
 kindling. A mood so exalted lifts others into its own fervor. 
 Not a generation passes that does not show some example of 
 it. And there is something noble in such generous enthusi- 
 asm. It has wrought much of the good that has been accom- 
 plished in the world. When I meet it, I cannot but regard it 
 with profound respect.” 
 
 “But you never share it?” 
 
 “Oh, no. I am far from saying that. There is even now a 
 rapturous feeling abroad that I too share.” 
 
 “What is that?” 
 
 *“Reverence for Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 “For Jesus of Nazareth!” said Thisoa slowly and wonder- 
 ingly. “The very man whom Zatthu thought of at first as one 
 who had greater claims to leadership than he himself, but 
 finally turned from as unworthy. And you really believe in 
 him?” 
 
 “Most heartily I do.” 
 
 ‘What makes you do so?” 
 
 “Things that I have seen. Above all, the cure he wrought 
 for my servant Hacho.” 
 
200 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Did he really cure Hacho of illness?” / 
 
 “Of desperate illness. I told your father the story. Has 
 he not told you?” 
 
 “No. Probably he will. But our Hebrew guest has taken 
 up all our thoughts of late.” 
 
 “T will leave it to him to relate all that happened. Suffice 
 it to say that Hacho was sick unto death and Jesus healed 
 him without even seeing him.” 
 
 “Perhaps the disease had spent its strength and he was 
 destined to get well. How could any sickness prevail against 
 such a stalwart man as Hacho?” 
 
 “You shall hear from him. I will find him and let him 
 speak for himself.” 
 
 Marcus went out and soon came bringing the big Phrygian 
 with him. More than a head taller than the average man, 
 taller even than Marcus himself and proportionally large of 
 body without having any cumbersome flesh upon him, he 
 might well seem immune from the diseases that vanquish the 
 human frame. 
 
 “Here is a lady, Hacho,” said Marcus as they entered 
 together, “whom you know and who wishes to talk with you. 
 She won’t admit that such a stout fellow as you could have 
 had a mortal illness.” 
 
 “Indeed, it is hard to believe it, Hacho,” said Thisoa with 
 a friendly smile; for she, like every one who knew him, had a 
 most cordial feeling toward this faithful and kindly servant 
 of Marcus. “Did you ever hear the story of Alcestis?” 
 
 “No. Won’t you tell it to me?” replied Hacho defer- 
 entially. 
 
 “Alcestis, the wife of Admetus, was carried off by Death. 
 But Hercules thought she was needed in her own home more 
 than in Hades; so he went after Death, gave him a sound 
 drubbing and brought Alcestis back to her husband and chil- 
 dren. Now, Hacho, I am sure you could beat Death as easily 
 as Hercules did.” 
 
PART III—THISOA 201 
 
 “T fear not,” answered Hacho, shaking his head solemnly. 
 “Death had claimed me when my master found one who saved 
 me from his grasp.” 
 
 “You got well Hacho, of course. But I cannot help think- 
 ing it was your splendid health, your unmatched strength, 
 that carried you through and made it impossible for the dis- 
 ease, whatever it was, to destroy the spark of life in that great 
 body of yours.” 
 
 ‘You would not think so if you could have seen me. Little 
 by little I lost power over my body. I had to lie still, and I 
 could not lift my head or move my hand. At last my heart 
 was hardly beating, and it seemed as if every breath I drew 
 must be my last. When of a sudden strength flowed all 
 through me like a flood. Almost as quickly as a bow twangs 
 and sends the arrow on its way, from being in the very arms 
 of death I found myself as well and strong as Iam now. Oh, 
 I could never tell the wonderful feeling I had when that new 
 life was given me. It seemed as if every bit of my body 
 tingled with joy. I was too astonished to speak at first; but 
 I sat upright in my bed. Then I sprang to my feet. And 
 then I cried out in my delight, ‘I am healed! I am healed! 
 I am healed?’ ” | 
 
 Hacho’s eye kindled as he said this and his face had a look 
 at once solemn and beautiful. No one could behold it and 
 not see that he had been through a great experience. The 
 three who had been listening were all silent after he had fin- 
 ished. They were too deeply impressed to speak, and at a 
 sign from Marcus, Hacho, after looking at Thisoa and bow- 
 ing respectfully, turned and went away. 
 
 It was Thisoa who spoke first after he had gone. 
 
 “Sometime,” she said, “I must see Jesus of Nazareth. Per- 
 haps he too is called to do great things. But I am sure he is 
 deluding himself and deluding others if he is aiming to be the 
 deliverer of his nation. That is Zatthu’s task.” 
 
 “Yes, surely that is Zatthu’s task,” said Naarah. “Let 
 
202 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Jesus heal the sick. That he does it, I can bear witness; for 
 I saw Hacho turn suddenly from death to life. But the em- 
 blem that my suffering country needs is the eagle not the 
 dove. It is the leader of sublime faith and heroic will that 
 will enlist Jehovah on our side and make Him fight for us 
 against the power of Rome, even as He fought for us of old.” 
 
 “And if He does,” said Marcus instantly, “my sword will 
 not be drawn against Judea,” 
 
 “T am sure it would not, Marcus,” rejomed Naarah. “In 
 faith, though not in blood, you belong to my people.” 
 
 “But, Marcus,” said the puzzled Thisoa, *“‘you are a Roman 
 centurion. How could you look on and see the power of 
 Rome crumble and fall?” | 
 
 “If Jehovah bids it crumble, let it perish. I am a servant 
 of Jehovah before I am a centurion of Rome.” 
 
 ‘And yet you keep your office and discharge its duties.” 
 
 “Why should I not? Rome has conquered the world. 
 Where she rules she quells disorder and makes law prevail. 
 True, her rule is sometimes harsh. This proud people hates 
 it and kicks against it. It may be Jehovah wills to set them 
 free. But I see no signs of it, and seeing none I serve Jeho- 
 vah by walking as uprightly as I can, and I serve Rome by 
 performing all the duties of my office as faithfully as I can.” 
 
 “Even though those duties bid you hunt a man who is hid- 
 ing from you?” said Thisoa, smiling faintly. 
 
 “Yes,” answered Marcus, smiling also though his mood 
 was grave. “Duty has a very ancient habit of taking a dis- 
 agreeable shape.” 
 
 “And it won’t ever take the pleasant shape of bidding you 
 stand still and see this man, under the leading of the God he 
 and you both worship, accomplish his great purpose?” 
 
 “I fear not.” 
 
 “Why are you so sure? Do not the sacred books of the 
 Hebrews give promise of a man who is to come and redeem 
 
 this people?” 
 
PART III—THISOA 203 
 
 ‘They do.” 
 
 “Then why may not Zatthu be that man?” 
 
 “Those promises are hard to understand. Even Naarah’s 
 grandfather, whom I talked much with about them, found 
 them very difficult to read. I myself have studied them. 
 They are very puzzling, but I see in them no warrant for 
 thinking that in a man like Zatthu they are to find their ful- 
 filment. Let him have the honor that is due him. He is a 
 patriot and a devoted one. But not from him will the light 
 come that is to give Judea a new birth. If that light is dawn- 
 ing even now, it is to come from Jesus of Nazareth. I know 
 not how, but I am sure it will be so. The power that is in him 
 is not his own. It is given him by God.” 
 
 “You are yourself not easy to understand, Marcus,” an- 
 swered Thisoa after a moment of thought. “You judge 
 things by the light of a stern clear reason, and yet you do not 
 always judge them so. You closed your mind against the 
 religion of Rome; you opened it to that of Israel. You rule 
 out feeling from your estimate of Zatthu; you let it color 
 and even control your view of Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 ‘And your father — is he not a man of clear sound judg- 
 ment?” | 
 
 “Surely. No man more so.” 
 
 ‘And do not kindliness, sympathy and affection often tem- 
 per his estimates of men and things?” 
 
 “Yes, and that is what makes him just.” 
 
 “Then why am I a puzzle to you?” 
 
 “Because you go much further than he in letting feeling 
 come in sometimes and mould your opinions utterly. My 
 father accepts no religion. You reject that of Rome, but 
 worship Jehovah as devoutly as Naarah’s own people. My 
 father never gives more than hearty respect to other men; 
 you seem almost to have bowed down before Jesus.” 
 
 “As I think your father will sometime bow. As the whole 
 
204 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 world may sometime bow. I see in him what I have never seen 
 in man before.” 
 
 “Fiven as I see in Zatthu a soul loftier than that possessed 
 by other men. I believe what he achieves will be spoken of 
 when Jesus is forgotten.” 
 
 “TY said I was no prophet; yet I as well as you seem to be 
 prophesying. Only the years can show which of us is right.” 
 
 “Yes, the years will show. The years will show,” repeated 
 Thisoa very slowly and as if trying to pierce the future’s veil. 
 “Ah, would that they might show it soon! Waiting is so 
 weary.” 
 
PART III—THISOA 205 
 
 III 
 
 When the Babe was born at Bethlehem the Hebrews were 
 in quest of light. They had reason to be so. Light had been 
 promised them. Glorious and soul rejoicing were the prom- 
 ises made to them through their prophets. A leader was to 
 come and lift them into a greatness their nation had never 
 known. The glory of Solomon was to be eclipsed. Their 
 new day was to have a splendor before which that of Rome 
 would pale. And the time was ripe. In power and wealth 
 and numbers they had been growing fast. Only the promised 
 Messiah was needed to break Rome’s hateful yoke and raise 
 them to unheard-of grandeur. 
 
 So thought the men who were wise in their books of 
 prophecy and story. There stood the promises clearly writ- 
 ten. They could not be misunderstood. They could not fail. 
 The Messiah must come. The mouth of Jehovah had spoken 
 it. But not to a rebellious or a disobedient people would he 
 be sent. Their sacred annals showed that Jehovah was a 
 jealous God who visited the iniquities of the fathers upon the 
 children even to the third and fourth generation. In the olden 
 days the people, God’s chosen people, had been terribly pun- 
 ished whenever they had sinned. The sword of the heathen, 
 the noisome pestilence, or fire from heaven had cut off those 
 who worshipped false gods or violated the Law. Of supreme 
 importance was it, then, that their blood should be kept pure, 
 their worship undefiled, and the Law rigidly obeyed. On mar- 
 riages with aliens they should look with scorn. A mongrel 
 race Jehovah would never countenance as His own. The very 
 intercourse with Gentiles was offensive in the eyes of Him 
 who had of old commanded them to put the heathen to the 
 sword. It would dull their pride. It would breed pollution. 
 And all the rites and ceremonies commanded them by Moses 
 must be most sacredly observed. It was Jehovah who had 
 
206 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 given them those ordinances. He had given them that His 
 own people might be truly His children, from generation to 
 generation. By unvaryingly performing all these ordinances, 
 by keeping every jot and tittle of the Law, they would be His 
 children. By forgetting them, by trampling on the Law, they 
 would be no better than the Gentiles who bowed down to idols 
 and invited Jehovah’s wrath. 
 
 No wonder that the Pharisees who thought thus looked 
 askance at Jesus of Nazareth. No wonder that the syna- 
 -gogue elders of Capernaum saw in Zatthu rather than in 
 Jesus the leader who would bring the promised day. And no 
 wonder that Zatthu himself was offended by the readiness of 
 Jesus to violate the rigid Hebrew tradition. In Capernaum 
 and in every centre of culture in Palestine the tradition had 
 become such a fetish that its spirit was lost. It had engen- 
 dered a sanctimoniousness that is fatal to true worship. And 
 to Jesus sanctimoniousness was as offensive as was the depar- 
 ture from tradition to the Pharisees. So with divine clearness 
 of vision Jesus turned for sympathy and understanding to 
 the common people who heard him gladly. He turned to 
 rough fishermen and publicans; and from the scribes and 
 Pharisees he turned sorrowfully away. 
 
 Yet these very men were anxious for light. They were 
 patriots, eager to see their nation rise from servitude to 
 power. And Zatthu himself was a humble and a very earnest 
 seeker after truth. Could he have been convinced that an- 
 other rather than he was called to lift Israel’s yoke, he would 
 gladly have submitted to his leadership. Here was the tra- 
 gedy that was being enacted in Judea. It was those who 
 wanted the light that condemned the light. Panoplied in wis- 
 dom as they verily believed themselves to be, they failed to 
 see the true light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world. It was one more example of the eternally repeated 
 story: When wisdom worships its own formulas, its day is 
 done. 
 
PART III—THISOA 207 
 
 These then were stirring days in which Thisoa set herself 
 upon the quest for truth. They were days in which the Truth 
 was working as a mighty winnowing fan. Not in Capernaum 
 merely, but all through Palestine the sheaves of the under- 
 standing were being threshed and the wheat separated from 
 the chaff. Not that Thisoa could see this. It was clear only 
 to one divinely illumined eye. None the less her quest was a 
 very earnest one; for she herself was a genuine lover of the 
 truth. To her mind Zatthu stood for it. To her ardent 
 spirit, that was so easily thrilled by a great and soaring pur- 
 pose, he made the same appeal that he did to the learned and 
 patriotic men of his own race. He embodied the truth... He 
 was called to fulfil the promises made to his people of old. 
 
 None the less Thisoa had been deeply impressed by what 
 Zatthu himself had told her of Jesus. If this man of Naza- 
 reth was not born to lead and deliver Israel, he was yet gener- 
 ous and merciful and pure. Listening to Zatthu, she had 
 doubted Jesus’ power to heal, though a chord of tender 
 sympathy had been touched in her as she learned how com- 
 passionate he had been to the erring woman. And now that 
 she found Marcus believed in his cures and Hacho had given 
 convincing testimony that he himself had been saved from 
 death, she could not but wonder whether he was not a larger 
 and a nobler figure than she had supposed; Marcus was so 
 wise. For his judgment she had.such profound respect. In 
 questioning it, in representing it as less sound than that of 
 her father, she had merely been acting on the defensive. 
 Championing Zatthu, she was drawn into combating the mind 
 ‘which refused to see in him what she herself saw. In her 
 heart she believed Marcus had a saner and a deeper knowledge 
 of men and things than even her father had. In her heart 
 she thought the more of him for accepting the religion of 
 Naarah’s people and becoming a devout worshipper of their 
 God. 
 
 Did her own soul long for refuge in some equally quiet 
 
208 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 spiritual haven? The need was beginning to be felt. From 
 the polytheism of the Greeks she had turned as her father and 
 her mother had. Those deities of Homer with their human 
 qualities were interesting beings. Some of them were reverend 
 and austere. But to adore and worship them was to her 
 quite impossible. Plato she read with interest and often 
 found herself in sympathy with his elevated thought. But 
 the bent of her mind was not toward philosophy, and those 
 writings of his which’told of the life and death of Socrates 
 were the ones to which she most often turned. It was deeds 
 that made the strongest appeal to her. She loved the tale of 
 noble achievement whether real or imagined. She read He- 
 rodotus’ account of the Spartans at Thermopyle over and 
 over again. The Antigone of Sophocles was her favorite 
 play. Homer’s heroes she almost looked upon as personal 
 friends. Achilles, Diomed and Odysseus seemed more like 
 living persons to her than many of the people she knew. 
 
 It was natural then that Zatthu’s ardor should have kindled 
 a spark in her. Here was a man who was cherishing an heroic 
 purpose. He seemed born to do great things. True, it 
 would not fall to him to smite down mighty men of valor as 
 Achilles did. That were too truculent and bloody a part for 
 a man of his high spiritual zeal. But he would head armies. 
 He would be sustained by the terrible might of Jehovah. He 
 would lay Rome’s eagles in the dust. To an undreamed of 
 greatness he would lift up his people and that greatness he 
 would share. Here indeed was a man to be admired, to be 
 encouraged, to be watched with painful and thrilling interest 
 as he gathered the men of Israel to his banner. 
 
 To this enthusiastic spirit of hers religion could make a 
 mighty appeal. But the appeal must profoundly reach the 
 emotions and thrill them through and through. It must de- 
 mand her homage through sublimity of achievement or of 
 character. Neither staid ritual nor dry maxim could touch 
 a vibrant chord in Thisoa’s mind. But limitless self-sacrifice 
 
PART IlI—THISOA 209 
 
 she was capable of viewing with the reverence of all her 
 being. 
 
 Natively resolute, not easily shaken in her deeply formed 
 convictions, she went home from Naarah’s house in a per- 
 turbed state of mind. Marcus must in this instance be mis- 
 taken. Longing for freedom, Israel was surely calling for a 
 man like Zatthu. He and he only was to lift her up from her 
 low estate. Jesus, the friend of publicans and sinners, could 
 not be the one to restore the grandeur and the glory of King 
 Solomon. But she must see him and judge him for herself. 
 She must also read those ancient puzzling prophecies which 
 told of the nature and the coming of the Messiah. 
 
210 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IV, 
 
 Had Aristarchus not been kept within doors by his wound, 
 and had he and Xenodice and Thisoa not had their minds 
 taken up by Zatthu, they would have found themselves think- 
 ing and speaking daily of Jesus of Nazareth. For at this 
 very time he was in the mouths of all Galilee. Driven out of 
 Nazareth, he had come to Capernaum and from that as a 
 centre he had gone forth, teaching and working his miraculous 
 cures. If the scribes and Pharisees, shocked by his disregard 
 of their traditions, frowned upon him, “the common people 
 heard him gladly.” 
 
 This simple statement is indeed almost the only comment 
 the Gospels make upon his power of reaching the multitudes. 
 But in it is a world of meaning. To all the needy there had 
 come a friend. ‘The social outcast, the poor, the sorrowing 
 and all those brought low by bodily ailment found a com- 
 forter at hand. The sinful were made to hope, the mourner 
 was cheered, the leper, the blind, the lame and the fever- 
 stricken were healed. Light dawned on all who sat in dark- 
 ness. ‘The misery-laden felt joy rising in their hearts. And 
 it was one benignant presence that brought this mighty influx 
 of good. Through crowded streets, through quiet lanes and 
 by-ways, over the hills and fields and by the lakeside there 
 walked a gracious figure scattering blessings as he went. All 
 Galilee was thrilled. Everywhere flashed the tidings that a 
 healer had come to whose power there were no bounds. 
 Whithersoever he went crowds flocked to see him. Those 
 bowed by infirmity pressed near him to receive his healing 
 touch. If any were too ill to move, their friends brought 
 them within sight of his tender eye. The blind waited where 
 they knew he would pass and cried out when they heard him 
 draw near. 
 
 Yes, all Galilee was thrilled. The whole province was in a 
 
PART IlII—THISOA 211 
 
 ferment. What cared the multitudes for the disapproving 
 voice of the men of enlightenment and learning? Their grati- 
 tude had to have expression. ‘This man had stretched forth 
 his hand, and lo! their ills were gone. Their hearts went out 
 to him. Their talk was of him and of him only. If he drew 
 near they would leave all and go to him. When he was gone 
 they would long to see him again. Surely he had been sent by 
 God. He had come to bring a new day to the earth. He had 
 come to reign, and what a reign it would be! For this man 
 would be such a king as the world had never seen. He would 
 lift up the humbie and cast down the proud. He would open 
 the prison house and give liberty to all who languished there. 
 He would banish injustice and oppression. He would fill the 
 whole earth with rejoicing, and misery and darkness would 
 give place to light. 
 
 But the more the people exulted, the more did the worship- 
 pers of tradition frown. They did not indeed begin by being 
 hostile to this strange and puzzling figure. He really seemed 
 to have uncommon powers. It might be he was sent to do 
 some great work by Jehovah. If so, it would be well to give 
 him countenance and be in his good graces when the time for 
 large action came. He was allowed to lead and teach in the 
 synagogues. This really had to be, for his followers de- 
 manded it. And, guardedly, hospitality was shown him. 
 But how had he rewarded this gracious and kindly treatment? 
 In the synagogue at Nazareth he had blasphemously claimed 
 to be the one foretold by the ancient Messianic prophecies ; 
 and when a kindly Pharisee had feasted him in Capernaum, he 
 had let his own unclean followers swarm into the house. And 
 what strange things had he done at Jerusalem! Those who 
 plied a lawful trade in the temple and were a help to the 
 devout worshipper he scourged and drove out; their property 
 he treated with contempt; themselves he vilified by calling 
 them thieves. For the Law given by Moses he had little 
 respect. By setting aside its observances he gave the worst 
 
212. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 possible example to his ignorant and easy-going followers. If 
 redemption was to come to Israel, surely it could only come 
 through the men who had deeply studied the Sacred Books 
 and knew how to interpret them. But these were the men he 
 neglected and even openly slandered by calling them hypo- 
 crites. Every day he was making it more plain that he had 
 not been called by Jehovah. His miracles he worked by magic 
 and sorcery. His power must be given him by the Evil One. 
 He was a menace to the true worship of Jehovah. The more 
 he won the hearts of the people, the more menacing he became. 
 He must be watched. Every means must be used to thwart 
 and suppress him if this power continued to grow. 
 
 And daily his power did grow among the people; so Galilee 
 was in the throes of a mighty upheaval. 
 
PART II—THISOA 213 
 
 Vi 
 
 The days went by. Summer gave place to autumn. Still, 
 Thisoa had not seen Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 It was not that her resolve had weakened. A deliberately 
 formed purpose she never lost sight of till she had accom- 
 plished it. But her father, who might have helped her in such 
 a matter, had gone on another commercial journey, and a 
 long one, soon after his wound was healed. Jesus himself was 
 not always to be seen. He was much in the surrounding coun- 
 try. When he was in‘Capernaum, there was no one place 
 where he could be found. ‘To seek him, therefore, was not 
 easy; to summon him was futile. A summons to heal, he 
 would indeed obey. But mere curiosity he would not heed. 
 
 But Thisoa was not impatient. An excellent Hebrew 
 scholar, she had read much the Messianic prophecies in Isaiah 
 and pondered over them. They were indeed, as Marcus had 
 said, not easy to understand. But even though they seemed 
 for the most part very dark to her, she found some of them 
 strangely and startlingly significant. Could they mean such 
 embattled hosts and such a mighty overthrow of reigning 
 authority as Zatthu was preparing? And did they point to 
 such a leadership as he was trying to establish? She could 
 not but doubt it. But then, Zatthu had not claimed that he 
 was the Messiah. He had not been so arrogant as that. 
 These strange and wonderful prophecies must be for some 
 far-off time. What Zatthu asserted — and asserted with un- 
 shakable faith and convincing ardor— was that Jehovah 
 would help his people now as He had helped them of old. 
 What God demanded in this latter day as in the olden time 
 was faith. Let the people believe in Him and He would side 
 with them. Let their armies take the field in His name, and 
 He would make them invincible. 
 
 It was Marcus who had dwelt upon the Messianic prophe- 
 
214. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 cies. He had brought them up and denied that they could 
 point to Zatthu; that they might have their fulfilment in 
 Jesus, he was not unready to believe. 
 
 In Jesus! How all things seemed to be centering around 
 this man of Nazareth! ‘Those who did not believe in him 
 were growing to fear him. His followers were ever increasing 
 in numbers; they hung upon his words and had wholly lost 
 their hearts to him. He was placing all Galilee upon the 
 judgment seat. To stand aloof and have no opinion about 
 him was becoming impossible. More and more fully did 
 Thisoa realize this as the days went by. She too must see 
 and judge. 
 
 This thought was in her mind as she was on her way to 
 visit Naarah one afternoon in the month of Tisri. The early 
 autumn rains had begun, but this day was so pleasant as to 
 challenge all who could to come out into the open. For the 
 sun had lost the intensity of Elul, which is the September of 
 the Roman calendar, and the air was agreeably cool. Not 
 surprised then was Thisoa to find her way blocked by a throng 
 of people as she came to one of the more open parts of the 
 city. Curiosity bade her linger for a moment on the out- 
 skirts of the gathering before trying to pass around it. Tid- 
 ings of some kind were undoubtedly being spread. Possibly 
 they might tell of Zatthu and his doings. | 
 
 What the crowd had assembled for she did not have to 
 inquire. As she joined it she heard a voice speaking words 
 of solemn warning to which all were listening in absolute still- 
 ness. ‘The speaker had the whole body of hearers under a 
 spell; but who was he? This question that shaped itself in 
 her mind she felt sure she could answer. Who could this be 
 but the man whose words were stirring all Galilee? But to 
 make certain she asked a woman who stood next to her. 
 
 “Is this Jesus of Nazareth?” 
 
 Barely glancing at the one who could put such a strange 
 inquiry, the woman answered, : 
 
PART II—THISOA | 215 
 
 “Surely. No one else speaks like that,” and gave her whole 
 attention to what was being said. So Thisoa also listened 
 with the deepest interest. 
 
 She listened but could not see. Tall though she was she 
 could not overlook the heads of those standing before her. 
 Neither could she peer through any openings in the densely 
 packed throng. Much to her regret she also found she could 
 not catch the speaker’s every word. She was too far away. 
 For though the words were denunciatory they were not pas- 
 sionate or loudly spoken. Always the voice was low and 
 sweet and when its tones grew most intense, they showed a 
 deep sorrow that was devoid of anger. Unsparing indeed 
 were the utterances. Even though she heard them imper- 
 fectly, Thisoa was thrilled by them. The generation was 
 declared to be a generation of vipers; and all were solemnly 
 warned that they would have to give account of every word 
 they might speak. ‘To a question put by some one who was 
 standing near the speaker, came the instant answer that only 
 an evil and adulterous generation sought after a sign. And 
 then came a startling personal claim coupled with further 
 rebuke of the existing generation. It would be condemned 
 by the men of Nineveh who had repented at the preaching of 
 Jonah, for a greater than Jonah had now come. It would 
 be condemned by the queen of the south who had gone from 
 afar to hear Solomon, and a greater than Solomon had come. 
 
 But even while the speaker was yet talking an interruption 
 came. ‘The voice ceased for a moment and a whisper ran 
 quickly through the crowd that the mother and brethren of 
 Jesus were present and wished to speak with him but could 
 not make their way through the densely packed throng. And 
 with that strange quickness of discernment that a mass of 
 human beings so often shows, all present began to turn their 
 eyes on a group of persons standing close to Thisoa. She 
 too looked curiously at them and saw a middle-aged woman, 
 whg had plainly not lived a life of ease and luxury, and several 
 
216 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIEN T GALILEE 
 
 young men unquestionably of the toiling class. But hardly 
 had she begun to gaze when the voice of Jesus was once more 
 heard and commanded the attention of all. It seemed to be 
 refusing what had been asked, and Thisoa caught these last 
 words solemnly uttered, — 
 
 ‘““Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in 
 heaven, the same is my brother and sister and mother.” 
 
 The voice ceased and once again Thisoa looked at the 
 group standing near, as did all those assembled. Their faces 
 she could not see well, but just for an instant she caught the 
 expression in the eyes of the woman who, she realized, must 
 be the mother of Jesus and she was puzzled by it. It did not 
 seem to show either pride or humiliation, but there was some- 
 thing wistful in it not easily to be forgotten. 
 
 The people began to disperse and Thisoa went on her way. 
 It was in a very thoughtful mood that she arrived at Naa- 
 rah’s and she showed this in her face. 
 
 “Why, Thisoa,” exclaimed Naarah as she met her, “you 
 look as if you hadn’t waked from your last night’s sleep but 
 were still dreaming.” 
 
 “TY am not sure but that I am.” 
 
 “Do sit down at once and tell me what has happened. 
 What have you seen?” 
 
 “I wish I knew.” 
 
 “Tell me all, and let me see if I cannot help you.” 
 
 So Thisoa related what has just been told, and ended by 
 saying, 
 
 ‘“‘Now who is this man who openly rebuffs his own mother 
 and yet claims to be greater than your great men of old?” 
 
 Naarah did not answer at once. When she spoke she said, 
 
 “Why not seek his mother and find out from her?” 
 
 “Ah, it is because you are a mother yourself that you say 
 that.” 
 
 “In other words, being only too ready to talk of my own 
 
PART III—THISOA 217 
 
 children, I count upon every mother’s showing the same 
 feeling.” ; 
 
 Thisoa smiled, but her mood was too serious to lend itself 
 to raillery. 
 
 “Tf you have the ‘failing,’ Naarah,” she said, “‘you have it 
 wonderfully under control. But of course you know the 
 mother’s heart, and perhaps your suggestion is a wise one. 
 I do not quite see though how to act upon it. We neither of 
 us know the mother of Jesus.” 
 
 “She is of my people. I can get acquainted with her.” 
 
 “Just to draw her out and make her talk of the son who 
 has almost disowned her before others? Would that be 
 right? Is not a mother’s heart too sacred to have its deepest 
 feelings probed?” 
 
 “Leave that to me, a mother. She shall be treated with 
 absolute sympathy and kindness. But I am going to seek her 
 out and know her. Marcus will make it easy for me to do so. 
 There is nothing he cannot arrange with that clever mind of 
 his and the power of Rome behind him. And when acquain- 
 tanceship is established, I will see that you share it. So wait 
 a little and I promise you that you shall hear from me.” 
 
| 218 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VI 
 
 Mary the mother of Jesus lingered a while in Capernaum, 
 and Marcus easily paved the way for Naarah to become 
 acquainted with her. First of all he sought her himself, 
 made an official inquiry of a trivial character, vanquished her 
 timidity and suspicion by his grave courtesy, spoke with deep 
 feeling and gratitude of the cure that had been wrought for 
 Hacho, and went away. Naarah’s approach was made with 
 equal delicacy and kindliness. As a result Thisoa soon re- 
 ceived a message that she was to come to Naarah’s house at 
 a given hour. The mother of Jesus had promised to come at 
 that time and see Naarah’s children. 
 
 Thisoa went gladly. The woman that she met she viewed 
 at first with deep interest; but soon her feeling became one 
 of reverence and awe. In the sweet patient face there was 
 that. which she knew not how to read. For more was to be 
 seen there than the deep peace and content that comes from 
 gratified maternal desire and the play of maternal tender- 
 ness. The full dark eyes were soft and dreamy. The light in 
 ' them seemed to come from some strange unwonted depth of 
 experience. Their gaze‘did not show inquiry. It revealed a 
 spirit that was more given to brooding over its own hidden 
 life than sounding the minds of others. ‘Those who searched 
 them were met with a brief answering glance of faintly roused 
 interest and then their look was far away. The voice was 
 always low and gentle. It never became animated. Neither 
 was the smile that sometimes played for a moment over the 
 lips a bright and merry one. It suggested mere human sym- 
 pathy without mirthfulness. The whole being seemed resting 
 under a solemn hush which it feared to break. It was as if 
 listening, listening, ever listening for some low sweet strain 
 that earth’s noises might easily drown. 
 
 She was fondling Naarah’s children when Thisoa entered 
 
PART III—THISOA 219 
 
 and first saw her. That her heart was touched by their 
 innocence and their captivating ways was manifest. She 
 took each of them in her arms by turns. Each rested there 
 in full contentment. But she did not win them by the toss 
 of the head and merry laughing sounds that so commonly 
 seem alluring to babyhood. It was the eyes that looked into 
 theirs that held them. In their tender depths the child saw 
 that which bade it be still and tranquil. Not even little Deb- 
 orah smiled as she gazed up into the calm, sweet face in 
 innocent wonder. But she knew she was in some haven of rest. 
 
 When she had given the two children due attention, Mary 
 sat down with Naarah and Thisoa. Her comment upon them 
 was not the fulsome one that the maternal cravings are sup- 
 posed to demand. She said simply, 
 
 “They are sweet. You are blessed.” 
 
 “Yes,” replied Naarah, “‘and the blessing will grow more 
 rich as the years pass, will it not?” 
 
 The answer did not come immediately and the question 
 seemed to bring just the shadow of a cloud over the face. 
 After a moment, she said, 
 
 “May Jehovah make it so.” 
 
 “T am sure that He will, though I cannot hope the years 
 will bring me what they have brought to you. For you are the 
 mother of one to whom all are looking for help and healing.” 
 
 Just a faint look of pride was in Mary’s eyes as she an- 
 swered, 
 
 “Yes, my Jesus has healed many.” 
 
 “And are you not very proud to be his mother?” asked 
 Thisoa. 
 
 “Yes, proud, and yet fearful and troubled.”” The shadow 
 seemed to deepen a little as she said this. 
 
 “Of what are you fearful?” 
 
 ““Hle came to me in a wonderful way, as no other child ever 
 came into the world. In his childhood and his youth he was 
 not like my other children. And this life he is living now — 
 
220 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 is it not marvelous? But it fills me with dread. I know not 
 what the end will be.” 
 
 “Tell us of his childhood, will you not?” asked Naarah. 
 “TI should love to hear about it.” 
 
 ‘And how was it that the way he came to you was wonder- 
 ful?” said Thisoa. ‘‘Will you not tell us about that too?” 
 
 “That story I could hardly tell. It is too sacred. I can 
 only say, an angel came and brought me the strange tidings 
 that Jesus was to be born. My soul was filled with wonder 
 and awe.” 
 
 Her two listeners were awed by her solemn manner. They 
 - felt that further questions were out of place and sat in silence 
 waiting for her to speak again. Presently she resumed, but 
 her sentences came slowly, brokenly. It seemed as if before 
 each utterance she waited for some power outside of and 
 beyond herself to tell her what to say, what to refrain from 
 saying. Was the same angel that once came to her with the 
 wondrous tidings now ordering her speech? Naarah could 
 not help so wondering as she thought how God’s messengers 
 had come to His chosen ones in the early far-off days. 
 
 “Because the angel had come to tell me of him,” she said, 
 “TY knew him as a gift from God. And yet it did not quite 
 seem as if he were given to me. I hardly dared think of him as 
 mine. Even when he was a babe there was that in his eyes 
 which made me stand still and wonder. 
 
 “He soon learned to understand me and to talk. It seemed 
 to come of itself. Itaught him little. But he did not use many 
 words. When he sat on my knee he would often pay no heed to 
 what I said but would keep his eyes fixed before him as if busy 
 with thoughts of his own. Again, he would look up at me and 
 smile — oh, what a wondrous smile he had! — but say nothing.” 
 
 Here Mary paused and seemed to lose herself in revery. 
 But very soon she became conscious of her hearers and began 
 again. 
 
 *‘“He learned to read just as he had learned to understand 
 
PART III—THISOA 221 
 
 and to speak. I used to wonder if Jehovah’s angels taught 
 him. He could laugh and be merry. He loved to be with 
 other children. He played with them. But best of all he 
 liked to read our Sacred Books and ponder over them. As I 
 watched him do this, a strange feeling of awe and dread came 
 over me sometimes. For our Books spoke to him as to no 
 one else. As he pored over them his face would light up with 
 joy. Then sometimes he would seem to be startled and to see 
 things that caused him wonder and pain. 
 
 “He grew wise, so very wise that I realized more and more 
 that he was not mine. When he was twelve a thing happened 
 that brought this home to me. My husband and I took him 
 with us to Jerusalem. Never was a child more obedient and 
 dutiful than he; but when we returned he remained behind. 
 We thought he was journeying home with a company of our 
 friends. When we found he was not, we hurried back to Jeru- 
 salem to seek him. After much trouble we found him in the 
 temple talking with our wisest men. To them his deep 
 knowledge of our Sacred Books gave pleasure; but our 
 hearts had been so anxious that we rebuked him and asked 
 why he had caused us such sorrow. But he in turn looked at 
 us rebukingly and asked us if we did not know he must be 
 about his Father’s business.” 
 
 Again Mary paused. Naarah and Thisoa had listened 
 absorbed and hoped she would say more. But they sat in 
 silence without venturing to suggest it. They were not dis- 
 appointed, for after a few moments she spoke again and 
 brought her story to an end. 
 
 “From that hour I felt that he belonged to Jehovah, even 
 more than Samuel did after Jehovah called him. Yet he lived 
 on with us and heeded perfectly the commandment of Moses 
 which says, ‘Honor thy father and thy mother.’ I loved to 
 have him in the house for his presence was a blessing. "When 
 he was out of it I felt as if there was not any sunlight. 
 
 “My husband is a carpenter and day after day Jesus toiled 
 
222 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 with him in the shop. He worked hard and whatever he put 
 his hand to he took pride in doing well. But sometimes 
 when I went into the shop — and I stole in often for my heart | 
 ever drew me there —I would find that he was standing still 
 with his hand on the saw or plane and was looking far away. 
 Once when I went in he had paused from his work to read in 
 one of our books he had by him and his face had a troubled 
 look. I could not help going to him and asking him what it 
 was that grieved him. He gazed at me tenderly for a moment 
 without speaking and then, resting his finger on the scripture, 
 said slowly in words which I knew were not his own but those 
 of the ancient prophecy, ‘As many were astonished at thee; 
 his visage was so marred more than any man and his form 
 more than the sons of men.’ 
 
 “That question that he asked us when we found him in the 
 temple at Jerusalem haunted me ever afterwards. I was ever 
 fearing the time when he would leave us, and our home would 
 be his no more. And now the time has come. He has really 
 gone about his Father’s business. The way he has chosen 
 seems strange tome. He helps the common people and makes 
 them his friends. The scribes and the Pharisees he rebukes 
 and turns them against him. I do not understand it at all, 
 but I am sure he is wise. I am sure he is doing what Jehovah 
 sent him into the world to do.” 
 
 “YT heard him only a few days ago,” said Thisoa. ‘‘He was 
 asked for a sign—TI think it was some of the scribes and 
 Pharisees that asked him — and he said it was only an evil 
 and adulterous generation that wanted a sign. They must 
 have been stung by the reproach. And then he went on to 
 say wonderful things about the judgment those who lived 
 long ago would pass on those who lived today, because one 
 who was very great had come and the people would not 
 repent. Yes, they were wonderful things that he said. I 
 have been thinking much about them.” 
 
 Mary cast at Thisoa a quick apprehensive glance the mo- 
 
PART II—THISOA 223 
 
 ment her words showed she had been present when Jesus had 
 disclaimed full human kinship. She listened attentively till 
 Thisoa ended; then she said quickly, 
 
 “You saw then how Jesus would not recognize his brothers 
 and me, his mother, before those who had assembled to hear 
 him. Did you think it strange?” 
 
 “Yes, I could not really help thinking so.” 
 
 “You must not think so. I have shown you why you must 
 not. Jesus belongs to Jehovah, not to me. He does only 
 what is right. He must be about his Father’s business. And 
 yet I cannot help being proud, oh, so very, very proud, that 
 I gave him birth.” 
 
 Mary’s face was beautiful as she said these last words. It 
 showed pride, but a pride so chastened that a deep humility 
 could also be read there; and the eyes had a strange look of 
 yearning for that which no human sympathy could give. 
 Presently she continued, 
 
 “Yes, I shall always be proud of that. I was his mother, 
 and through all these years he has been a kind and loving son 
 tome. The love is still in his heart. I know it is there and it 
 will be there as long as he lives. But he is called to do won- 
 derful things, more wonderful I sometimes think than have 
 ever been done before upon the earth. I must not stand in 
 the way of them. Let Jehovah’s will be done. Yes, let it be 
 done even if it brings suffering to him, as I fear it may. My 
 ‘people have done very cruel things sometimes. And he, so 
 gentle, so kind, so tender, and yet so eager to rebuke all the 
 evil that he sees — will they love and honor him? Ah, if they 
 should bring only sorrow to his heart, my own would be very, 
 very sore.” 
 
 As Mary said these words her eyes moistened and her lip 
 trembled. Controlling herself in a moment she looked grate- 
 fully on her two hearers and said, 
 
 “You have been most kind to let a mother open her heart 
 
224 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 to you. May Jehovah bless you both. Now I must say, 
 Farewell.” 
 
 “Farewell,” said Naarah as with deep tenderness she kissed 
 the sweet kindly face. “But I will not say, ‘May Jeho- 
 vah bless you.’ For surely He has blessed you abundantly 
 already.” 
 
 Thisoa too was deeply moved as she said her word of part- 
 ing, but she sat in silence after Mary had gone. Neither did 
 Naarah feel like speaking immediately; but presently she 
 asked, 
 
 “Was it not well that we got the mother’s story? Could 
 we have learned from any one else what we have learned 
 from her?” 
 
 “From no one else.” 
 
 “And now tell me what you have learned.” 
 
 “YT could not tell you. I do not know myself. I do not 
 think that I shall know till after many days.” 
 
PART IlI—THISOA 225 
 
 Vil 
 
 Many times after listening to Mary’s story Thisoa wan- 
 dered through the city in the hope of again finding Jesus 
 speaking to a gathering of the people. Never rigidly bound 
 by conventions, she would in any case have refused to obey 
 them blindly. She would have carried out her purpose even 
 though it had been a noticeable infringement of oriental cus- 
 tom for her to go freely and unattended about Capernaum. 
 As it was, her action could not have been regarded peculiar, 
 for her quest was the common one. ‘To see and hear Jesus 
 was the one ardent longing of man and woman, young and 
 old, throughout Galilee. 
 
 But she was not successful. Once or twice she got word 
 that Jesus was in the city and was teaching or performing 
 cures; but the news never reached her in time to make a meet- 
 ing possible. And after a good many days something hap- 
 pened which demanded her time and thought. 
 
 Her little friend who prattled so innocently about her doll 
 fell ill. Naomi was sick of a fever and she asked for Thisoa. 
 In Thisoa she had always confided. Not even her mother 
 seemed able to soothe and comfort her like this friend who 
 had always heard her with sympathy, and never uttered a 
 word of impatience or rebuke. So Thisoa went to the bedside 
 every day and passed hours there in ministering to the fret- 
 ful and suffering child. 
 
 “Do you like to be with me? Am TI not a great care and 
 trouble to you?” asked the little girl one day as she opened 
 her eyes wide and looked intently at Thisoa. 
 
 “No, dear. If you love to have me with you, I am happy 
 to be here,”? was Thisoa’s answer: and as she saw the look of 
 contentment that came into the flushed and burning face, she 
 felt that what she began to say out of mere sympathy was 
 said with truth. 
 
226 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Not constantly could her ministrations be active and she 
 had much time to think. It was in one direction that her 
 thoughts were always turning. Where was Zatthu and what 
 was he doing? More than two months had passed since his 
 midnight flight from Capernaum; and still there was no 
 word from him. Did this mean that so far he had failed? 
 No, surely there was no reason for believing that. His task 
 was stupendous. It must make headway slowly. It must be 
 performed in secrecy, -besides. No, it could not fail. Some 
 day he would suddenly appear with an army behind him. 
 From every side men would flock to his banner. The Romans 
 would be overwhelmed before they could strike one vigorous 
 blow and those disparaging assertions of Marcus would be 
 belied. 
 
 And then her mind would dwell on the man who was raising 
 no standard and seemed to have no thought of war or con- 
 quest, but who was winning the hearts of all the people of 
 Galilee. How different the two men were! How unlike were 
 the ends they had in view! Surely, Zatthu’s was the higher 
 and the grander end, for it concerned a whole nation’s wel- 
 fare. Jesus, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to the 
 greatness of his country. He only aimed to heal the body 
 when he found it was diseased and to purify the heart when 
 it was the seat of evil desires. A noble end, it was true. But 
 the Hebrew people were under a foreign yoke and this could 
 not be shaken off by vanquishing disease or abating wicked- 
 ness. 
 
 And yet — that healing power was so wonderful! Whence 
 came it? What did it mean? And after all, was it not for 
 some purpose larger than could now be grasped that this 
 man, about whom his mother talked so beautifully, was 
 brought into the world? It was all very perplexing. But 
 to free the body of its ills was a blessing indeed. She looked 
 at the bed where little Naomi lay and wondered why the power 
 had not been called to her deliverance. In part, no doubt, 
 
PART III—THISOA 227 
 
 because her father shrank from the criticism of his asso- 
 ciates. Jairus was an open-minded man. He would have 
 given Zatthu the same favorable opinion of Jesus that Joiada 
 had expressed. Steadily had he believed that the one who 
 healed diseases without number was to be viewed with kindly 
 eyes. But he found that his friends in the synagogue were 
 by no means in accord with him. They looked upon Jesus 
 with profound dislike and they treated with coldness all who 
 disagreed with them. 
 
 It was however the physician Ammihud —a much nar- 
 rower and more petty-minded man than Malluch — who had 
 really prevented an appeal to the great healer. Called in as 
 soon as Naomi was sick, he came every day and every day 
 left some medicine or potion. In the beginning with interest, 
 soon with dislike, Thisoa had watched him and his movements. 
 He was short, middle-aged, bald-headed and spare of body. 
 It was an unctuous smile that was now and then to be seen on 
 his withered face; but his look was furtive and his eye was 
 without the light of kindliness. As he entered the room, 
 crouching forward and rubbing his hands together, his greet- 
 ing was always the same, 
 
 ‘And how is our little Naomi today? Better, much better, 
 I am sure.” 
 
 Then, sitting by the bedside and taking the pulse, he would 
 nod the head as he said, 
 
 “The fever still high, but we must have patience, patience. 
 My medicines cannot fail to bring a cure.” 
 
 And after a parting injunction to the mother and a re- 
 newed assertion of his skill, he would go on his way. 
 
 Quiet sleep the drugs did sometimes give, but that was all. 
 The burning fever wore away the strength. Too weak to 
 talk, Naomi lay still upon the bed. Yet she always seemed 
 glad to have Thisoa with her, and once in a while she would 
 recognize her by a smile. But the day came when she passed 
 
228 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 wholly into unconsciousness and her pallor showed that death 
 was near. 
 
 ‘““Why have you deceived me thus?” demanded her father 
 of Ammihud. “Only yesterday you assured me that the dis- 
 ease had spent itself and she would speedily mend.” 
 
 “My medicines are potent,” replied the physician, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. ‘They cure when cure is possible. But 
 nothing can be done against the will of Jehovah.” 
 
 “Oh, but it cannot be Jehovah’s will that my Naomi should 
 die,” cried the grief-stricken mother. “Is not Jesus of Naza- 
 reth in Capernaum? Find him, my husband! Find him! He 
 heals all who are sick and languishing. He will heal my own 
 dear child.” 
 
 “*T will seek him,” answered Jairus. “I will seek him at once. 
 My brethren of the synagogue will censure me. But my child 
 is dying. It is our only hope.” 
 
 So saying, he turned to go. As he did so Ammihud, who 
 plainly resented the idea that another might succeed where 
 he had failed, remarked sneeringly, 
 
 ‘You would best hurry, or this Jesus may have to call the 
 dead to life; and you will hardly expect him to do that.” 
 
 Jairus gave him an indignant look, but hurried out of the 
 room without replying. Ammihud himself did not withdraw, 
 but stood watching the still, unconscious form. By the bed- 
 side sat the mother, bowed with anguish, and Thisoa too kept 
 her place there. She felt that the end was near, and harrow- 
 ing though it was to see the innocent life come to a close, she 
 was not willing to go away. A believer now in Jesus’ power 
 to heal, she fervently longed for his coming. Yet she had 
 little hope that he would come in time. Naomi was plainly 
 breathing her last. 
 
 Very soon she did breathe her last. The breaths grew 
 fainter and shorter. Consciousness coming for a moment at 
 the very end, she opened her eyes, recognized her mother and 
 Thisoa and smiled upon them; and then, with one long sigh 
 
PART III—THISOA 229 
 
 as if she were too weary to live longer, passed quietly away. 
 
 “She is dead,” said Ammihud unfeelingly. ‘‘Jesus is not 
 wanted here. I will find Jairus and tell him so.” 
 
 Thereupon he hastily departed and Thisoa and the mother 
 were left alone with the dead child. Putting her arms about 
 the sorrowing woman, Thisoa kissed her tenderly and then 
 withdrew. Such grief was too sacred to be shared, too deep 
 to call for barren words of consolation. 
 
 In the room without she found a group of wailing relatives 
 and friends. Ammihud had told them the sad news and their 
 lamentation was loud and unrestrained after the oriental 
 fashion. They beat their breasts and expressed their grief 
 by tears and distressful cries. Neither decorous nor con- 
 siderate did their actions seem to Thisoa. She felt that the 
 noise they made must be disturbing to the heart-broken 
 mother within; and she felt too that the mantle of silence 
 should enfold the form that was lying silent and still. But 
 she made no protest. It would have only called forth angry 
 words and unfriendly glances. Some of the relatives there 
 were near ones, and they were already jealous of Thisoa 
 because she had been with Naomi in her last moments while 
 they had been kept away. So she waited for a short time 
 quietly in the hope that there might be some service for her 
 still to render. Then making up her mind that she was out 
 of place there, she approached the street door to go to her 
 own home. 
 
 As she did so she heard steps outside; the door was gently 
 opened and Jairus entered followed by several men. On the 
 foremost of these her eyes were at once riveted. Imperfect 
 had been the glimpse she got of Jesus when she stood at the 
 edge of the gathering in the streets and had heard him utter 
 those sorrowing words of condemnation upon the unrepent- 
 ant; yet the tender and benignant face she had vividly re- 
 membered and she recognized it now. Yes, this was Jesus of 
 
230 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Nazareth, and never had she seen mien so calm or a presence 
 that carried with it such a sense of peace. 
 
 That he had come too late, she knew. That he could give 
 back the life that had already flown, she felt to be impossible. 
 Yet somehow hope sprang up at once in her heart, and that 
 Jairus too had hope was plain. He did nothing but look to 
 the man who had listened to his pleading and had come to his 
 house in its hour of desolation. But there was gladness in his 
 eyes, though he knew that his child was dead. That he knew it, 
 Thisoa could not doubt; for Ammihud was one of those who 
 had followed him into the house. He had found the bereaved 
 father and had told him it was useless to ask for help, for the 
 end had come. Even now the physician’s face betrayed the 
 same lack of human feeling that he had manifested at the bed- 
 side. It was almost an expression of triumph that it wore. 
 He himself had failed. They would all soon see that the 
 failure had been inevitable and that to look for aid was folly. 
 
 Even so did it seem to the sorrowing relatives and friends. 
 The entrance of the master of the house had only made them 
 wail the louder and sob more brokenly. They must make 
 their grief and sympathy apparent to the father of the life- 
 less child. It was what he would expect from them. So to 
 him rather than to those who had come in with him their eyes 
 were directed. For him their noisy and passionate grief was 
 shown. But in the height of it they were startled by a quiet 
 yet commanding voice which said, 
 
 “Why make ye this ado and weep? The maid is not dead 
 but is asleep.” 
 
 But upon the mourners the presence of Jesus had not made 
 the impression it had upon the mind of Thisoa. They had 
 scarcely noticed him. He had raised no hopes in them. His 
 words only roused their scorn. Without heeding them further _ 
 Jesus went into the room where the body of Naomi lay. With 
 him went her mother, who had come from within, and Jairus. 
 Three men who had followed him and were plainly of his dis- 
 
PART IJI—THISOA 231 
 
 ciples went in also. No others were allowed to enter. Ammi- 
 hud attempted to do so but Jairus motioned him back. In- 
 tently Thisoa watched everything that was taking place. 
 Intently she observed every look and gesture of this man 
 whose power it would now seem was not limited to healing, 
 but who did not shrink from the task of giving life back to 
 the dead. What calm authority he exercised. Whence came 
 it? ‘This son of a humble toiling woman was not a king that 
 he should be obeyed. 
 
 In tense expectancy she waited. Presently the door of the 
 inner room was opened. Forth from it came Jesus and his 
 three followers. No word did he speak. Neither to right nor 
 left did he look. In his countenance there was nothing to 
 read but that deep serenity that was like a benediction. 
 Through the outer door he passed with his faithful three, and 
 as he disappeared Thisoa had a strange feeling that some- 
 thing higher and purer than the things of earth had gone 
 with him. 
 
 But her attention was at once demanded by Naomi’s mother 
 who now entered the room with a radiant face. To the vol- 
 ley of inquiries that was directed at her she answered joy- 
 fully, 
 
 “Yes, she lives. But do not hinder me. Jesus charged me 
 to give her something to eat.” 
 
232 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VIII 
 
 Our modern age claims much for itself. Its progress has 
 been so amazing that it enters with difficulty into the life and 
 spirit of the past. By countless inventions we have made liy- 
 ing a fine art. How dreary then must existence have been two 
 thousand ears ago! Our scientific achievement is so vast that 
 Archimedes was a dabbler. The landscape architect makes 
 us think lightly of the hanging gardens of Babylon. Awed by 
 the sublimity of towering mountains and grand canyons, we 
 say that the ancients were blind to scenic beauty. Yet the 
 men and women of the old time civilizations had the same 
 senses, the same minds and the same emotions that we have 
 today. How could they have been insensible to soft vernal 
 airs, delicious sunshine, sunset clouds, the fragrant breath of 
 morning, and waters mirroring heaven or crested by the gale? 
 If the craving for the wild and picturesque is a modern feel- 
 ing, nature must yet have had her lovers in the days of old. 
 Sophocles was not the only one who delighted in her moods of 
 varied beauty. ‘They appealed to myriads; they gave rest | 
 and inspiration to the Son of Man. Surely it was not merely 
 to lose sense of human turmoil that He sought the mountain 
 solitudes to meditate and pray. Those lonely vigils under 
 the solemn stars revealed to Him the nearness of the Eternal 
 Creative Mind. He felt it in the cooling night wind, in the 
 sighing forests, in the grateful veil of darkness and in the 
 singing birds that joyfully greeted the dawn. | 
 
 To Thisoa nature had always spoken with a winning voice. 
 She loved the flowers; she loved the birds; she loved to see 
 hills and valleys glowing in the sunlight or shadowed by pass- 
 ing clouds. In her childhood she had lived close to the sea 
 and its ‘tumbling waters were an unending joy to her. She 
 would clap her hands in delight when the winds made its bil- 
 Jows break with a thunderous roar upon the shore. In Ca- 
 
PART UI—THISOA 233 
 
 pernaum she missed its salty breezes and its misty vastness; 
 but the Lake of Galilee offered a charming prospect and she 
 never tired of watching the endlessly changing lights upon its 
 surface. She could see it from her father’s house; but not 
 far away was a quiet spot which commanded its whole expanse 
 and to which she loved to resort. An aged olive tree with its 
 dull green foliage and its twisted trunk of gleaming gray 
 helped to make the spot attractive. It was very old and, in 
 rooting itself securely against windy tempests, it had divided 
 its big stem into those great clawlike protuberances that seem 
 to clutch the earth into which they sink. Between two of 
 these Thisoa had found a comfortable resting place; and 
 here she would sit in the shade of the protecting foliage and 
 read or gaze upon the stretch of water so often swept by 
 gusts from the surrounding hills. Often she wondered how 
 the tree came there, standing all alone as it did, and how 
 many years it had faced the breezes and sunk its roots ever 
 deeper into the soil. And it made her think too of the story 
 told in her own land, of Athene’s bounty in bestowing this 
 priceless gift on the violet crowned city that she loved and 
 thereby making the grateful Athenians adopt her as their 
 patron deity. 
 
 To this spot Thisoa repaired with Naomi a few days after 
 her friend had been miraculously called back from the dead. 
 She came in a troubled mood. Ever since that strange mys- 
 terious happening her mind had been in a turmoil. One 
 question imperiously challenged her through all her waking 
 hours. Was Jesus of Nazareth the true leader and deliverer 
 of his people? Whenever she was alone she found this prob- 
 lem confronting her and refusing to be set aside. Almost did 
 she dread to be alone because of this burden to her thoughts. 
 So she had welcomed Naomi when she appeared that day, and 
 had brought her with her to this favorite resort where she 
 would have preferred to be solitary in many of her moods, 
 
234 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 But she had now a vague unreasoning feeling that a child’s 
 wisdom might give light to her sorely buffeted understanding. 
 
 It was all because of Zatthu that her spirit was in such 
 turmoil. This man of Nazareth had not claimed her alle- 
 giance. Whether or not she should believe in him without 
 reserve she did not for her own sake have to decide without 
 delay. Yet for Zatthu’s sake she did. She had encouraged 
 him to believe that he was to deliver Israel. Jesus, she had 
 said to him, was but for a day. ‘‘When generations have 
 passed, the mothers of Israel will bless you because their 
 babes can breathe the air of freedom.” How vividly those 
 words she had spoken on the night of Zatthu’s departure now 
 came back to her! And she could not be mistaken. Her 
 heart told her insistently, imperiously, that her faith in 
 Zatthu could not have been misplaced. And yet Jesus of 
 Nazareth was ever assuming a grander and more command- 
 ing aspect in her eyes. To open the soul to his teachings and 
 his gracious influence might be in itself a joy. But to cast 
 Zatthu down and raise Jesus above him — ah, that would 
 bring agony of spirit. 
 
 And could the maid of twelve give hee any help in this hour 
 of trial? She did not really think it. Yet Naomi was no 
 longer the child she had been. She seemed to have brought 
 back an awakened understanding from the unknown world 
 whose borders she had crossed. Her doll Rachel was her 
 favorite playmate no longer. 
 
 “Naomi,” said Thisoa as they sat down under the olive 
 tree together, “this is the first chance I have had to talk with 
 you since you were sick, and so very, very sick. You know, I 
 suppose, how ill you really were.” 
 
 “Yes,” said Naomi, quite soberly. “I was so ill that I died.” 
 
 “How did you know that, Naomi? Just because they told 
 your” 
 “No. I saw things —lights and faces. But I couldn’t say 
 any more about it.” 
 
PART IlI—THISOA 285 
 
 “Why not, Naomi?” 
 
 “Something tells me that I shouldn’t. When I played with 
 Rachel and made her Queen Esther, I used to say to her, ‘You 
 are very grand now. You are a queen and you live in a 
 palace. But I am just going to peek in and see how splendid 
 you are, though I haven’t any right to be in the palace at all.’ 
 Now it is just that way about what happened when I died. 
 I belong here. I don’t belong over there where we all go when 
 we die. I just peeked in and I don’t feel as if I had any right 
 to talk about what I saw. And I really didn’t see very much. 
 You know I was dead only just a little while.” 
 
 “Only a little while, dear Naomi, but long enough to make 
 us very sad. We should have missed you so if you had not 
 come back to us.” 
 
 ‘And I should have missed you and mother and father. 
 TI am sure Jehovah would have taken good care of me and sent 
 some very dear angels to look after me. But I don’t see how 
 they could have been as dear as mother and father and you.” 
 
 “YT suppose they have told you how it was that you did 
 come back to us.” 
 
 “Oh, I didn’t need to be told. I knew. I heard some one 
 call to me and tell me to rise, and I had to doit. It wasn’t 
 easy. I had hard work to open my eyes. But I did so, and 
 I saw a man standing by my bed and looking at me. And oh, 
 such a beautiful face he had! Do you know, it was like the 
 faces I saw when I was dead! I haven’t said that to any one 
 else, but I don’t see how there can be any harm in my telling 
 it to you.” 
 
 “No harm at all, I am sure. But why was the face at your 
 bedside like the faces you saw when you went away from us?” 
 
 ‘Because it was very kind — and yet it wasn’t only that. 
 T don’t think I could really tell you just why.” 
 
 “You know who it was that brought you back to us?” 
 
 “Oh, yes. It was Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 ‘Don’t you want to see him again?” 
 
236 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “More than any thing else in the world. One who can do 
 the wonderful things he does wouldn’t want a little girl lke 
 me to trouble him. But if I should see him, I should run and 
 kneel down before him and say, ‘O Jesus, it was very good of 
 you to give me back to my mother and father and I thank 
 you with all my heart.’ ” 
 
 “T am sure that wouldn’t trouble him, Naomi. It would 
 please him. Didn’t he gladly take the trouble to come to your 
 father’s house and bring you back to life? But why should 
 you kneel down to him?” 
 
 “Why, I just couldn’t help it. He is so wonderful. You 
 know I shouldn’t be talking with you here now if it hadn’t 
 been for him.” 
 
 “Don’t your people think it is wrong to kneel to any one 
 but Jehovah?” 
 
 “Yes. Mother has taught me that.” 
 
 “You don’t think he is Jehovah, do you?” 
 
 “TY don’t see how he could be. Perhaps it would be wrong 
 to kneel to him. But I don’t believe I could help it if I saw 
 him.” 
 
 Thisoa ceased questioning and looked out on the gleaming 
 waters. Naomi’s talk affected her strangely. What weight 
 ought she to give to these impressions of a mere child? A 
 mere child! She looked at the little girl as she thus charac- 
 terized her in her thought; and as she did so a strange sen- 
 tence in the Hebrew prophecies flashed into her mind. “And 
 a little child shall lead them.” And then there came to her 
 the ‘recollection of what Jesus’ mother had told about his 
 childhood. Did knowledge come to the minds of children 
 which their elders did not understand? If so, did it come 
 because the child mind was simple and given to reverence like 
 that of her little friend Naomi? She wondered. She asked 
 herself if the sharp conflict in her mind ought not to have 
 some easy and natural ending. Perhaps hard thinking wasn’t 
 always the best way to find the truth. She was tormenting 
 
PART II—THISOA 237 
 
 herself by her fierce persistent struggle to form a clear just 
 judgment. Would it sometime form itself as simply as 
 Naomi’s feeling that she must kneel to the man of Nazareth? 
 
 While she still wondered and questioned, she heard Naomi 
 speak and for the time being dismissed this puzzling querying 
 from her mind. It was a relief to be called back from brood- 
 ing and speculation to the things of the moment. 
 
 “Thisoa, have I been a trouble to you?” inquired Naomi. 
 “You have not looked at me or spoken to me for some time.” 
 
 “No, Naomi dear. You have been a help and comfort to 
 me. But let us go home now. We have talked enough for 
 one morning.” 
 
 They left the lakeside and Thisoa sought her own home 
 after first accompanying Naomi to hers. But she did not dis- 
 miss from her thoughts what the child had said. The ques- 
 tioning mood returned and she could not banish it. When 
 night came it still followed her, and after all others in the 
 house were asleep she wandered into the garden enclosure and 
 stood at the very spot where Zatthu had been so effectively 
 concealed. ‘The stars were dim for the sky was partially 
 overcast. Looking up at them, she felt that their misty light 
 was but a symbol of her own sorely vexed and groping mind. 
 All the light she saw was uncertain and faint. Yearning, » 
 passionate, stricken with a sense of her own helplessness, she 
 threw herself on her knees and stretched out her hands to the 
 veiled and cloudy sky. 
 
 “OQ Thou,” she cried, “who didst make the stars and all 
 who live under them, hearken to one who is wandering in a 
 wilderness and can find no help, no guide. Whether thy name 
 be Jehovah or a name too great and high for men to know, 
 be Thou the friend of all those Thou hast created and be 
 Thou merciful to me. Give light to me in my darkness and 
 give strength to him who would set thy chosen people free. 
 Wherever he is tonight, be near him and put courage in his 
 heart. If he is needy, minister to him. If he is sick, give 
 
238. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 him healing. If he has no shelter, make the winds and the 
 night dews kind to him. And if his spirit is fainting, lift it 
 up and make him know that his cause is righteous in thine 
 eyes and Thou wilt not let it fail.” 
 
 Comforted by this appeal and feeling that, even though 
 she knew not how, it must have been heard, she sought repose. 
 But it was not at once that sleep came to her. 
 
PART III—THISOA 239 
 
 IX 
 
 ‘'Thisoa, would you like to go with me to Nazareth?” 
 
 Such was the unlooked for question Naarah put to her 
 friend a few days after the talk with Naomi by the lakeside. 
 Thisoa was at Naarah’s house. Almost every day she went 
 there to find relief from her own restlessness. Naarah’s warm 
 steady affection and ready sympathy gave her cheer and 
 comfort. 
 
 “To Nazareth?” said Thisoa. “Then you are going to see 
 your grandfather, Eliud Merari.” 
 
 “Yes. It is some three months since I have visited him. I 
 know he is longing to see me.” 
 
 “And Nazareth is the place where Jesus had his home. 
 Yes, I should be glad to go with you to Nazareth. But you 
 have been there again and again. Why have you never asked 
 ine before?” 
 
 “Every thing has to have a beginning,” replied Naarah 
 with an odd look. 
 
 “True. But why does this particular beginning come at 
 this particular time?” 
 
 “T thought you might like to see and know my grandfather. 
 You have become interested in our Sacred Books and no one 
 knows them better than he. And then Nazareth is right 
 among the hills of Galilee. Perhaps we may hear something 
 of Zatthu; and both of us, you know, would be very glad to 
 learn if his plans are making any headwaly.” 
 
 It did not escape Naarah’s notice that Thisoa flushed a 
 little at the mention of Zatthu; but the answer that came 
 betrayed no eagerness or perturbation. 
 
 “Both reasons are good. You have well justified that be- 
 ginning you have made. When do you go?” 
 
 “Tomorrow. The journey takes only one day. We shall 
 
 stop three days and then return.” 
 
 / 
 
240 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Tomorrow. I shall be ready tomorrow. I would start 
 today if you wished it.” 
 
 “It is arranged for tomorrow. There will be quite a little 
 company. Marcus sends three or four soldiers to protect me. 
 I laugh at him for it, but he won’t let me go without them.” 
 
 “How old is your grandfather, Naarah?” 
 
 “He is eighty-three.” 
 
 “And well?” 
 
 “fA little broken. My marriage with Marcus hurt him. He 
 approved of it heartily. But the fact that he allowed it made 
 him lose influence with men who are, like himself, learned in 
 the Law.” | 
 
 “But your people have not turned from you, and your 
 happiness must have been a comfort to him.” 
 
 “A very great comfort, but for all that his pride has been 
 wounded. No, my people have turned from me very little. 
 That is due to Marcus. He has treated them wisely and 
 generously and they think it a wonderful triumph that he, a 
 Roman officer, should have adopted our faith. But my 
 grandfather would never live with Marcus and me because he 
 was afraid the Hebrews here in Capernaum might hold aloof 
 from me more than they do if he did so. He reasoned that his 
 presence here would rouse their animosity, because they would 
 blame him for my marriage, knowing he could have stopped 
 it if he had chosen.” 
 
 “Could he have stopped it, Naarah?” 
 
 *““Now there speaks the youthful generous mind that be- 
 lieves that no power on earth should keep apart two who 
 truly love each other. It is a beautiful thought. Cling to it, 
 Thisoa dear. May you never have to give it up.” 
 
 “But you haven’t answered my question.” 
 
 “No, and I didn’t mean to; yet I will. I could not have 
 married Marcus if my grandfather had been opposed to it. 
 I owed him too much to hurt or wound him. But, oh! no one 
 was ever so happy as I was when I found he really wished it 
 
PART III—THISOA 241 
 
 to be. He said it was Jehovah’s will and he could not but 
 acquiesce.” 
 
 The next day the two set out for Nazareth with the escort 
 Marcus insisted on providing. ‘The six stalwart soldiers who 
 made their bodyguard were on foot. Naarah after the custom 
 of the country, rode upon an ass; but Thisoa was mounted 
 upon a spirited horse which with difficulty she held back to 
 the slow pace of the ass and the foot soldiers.- When she was 
 a young girl her fathershad for reasons of trade spent two 
 successive summers in Macedonia with his wife and daughter. 
 There horses were plentiful and there she had learned to be a 
 thoroughly fearless rider. Since that time she had had scant 
 opportunity to gratify her love of horsemanship, but the love 
 remained. She knew no keener pleasure than that of mount- 
 ing and controlling a mettlesome steed. 
 
 They made a very early start, for the break of day found 
 them setting forth upon their journey. Naarah had said 
 they could make Nazareth in a single day, but to do this they 
 had to be many hours upon the road. Nazareth was not more 
 than twenty miles from Capernaum; but the detours made 
 necessary to the traveller by the windings of the road along 
 the lakeside and among the hills made the journey one little 
 short of thirty miles. 
 
 A pleasant journey it was however, as it lay through a 
 pleasant country. It was an early day in Bul, much the same 
 as November in the Roman calendar, on which the two friends 
 and their escort started. The early rains had cleared the 
 air; and as they were favored with a cloudless sky, they 
 could enjoy the clear outlines of the hills and the sunshine 
 that flooded the lake and the whole surrounding country. 
 
 For a number of miles — nearly half of the whole distance 
 they were to cover — the road skirted the Lake of Galilee, 
 on whose gleaming surface were to be seen the sails of numer- 
 ous fishing boats and small vessels of\merchandise that plied 
 between the cities on the shore. An hour before noon they 
 
242 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 reached the city of Tiberias and here they turned away from 
 the lake and faced the line of hills upon its western border. 
 Upward their way wound now until it carried them through 
 a cleft between two spurs of the ridge and brought them down | 
 into one of the reaches of the beautiful valley of EKsdraelon. 
 
 Here, by the clear cool waters of a brook, they found an 
 inviting grove of plane trees and willows and took a midday 
 rest. The sun’s rays had become oppressive and for five full 
 hours they had steadily pursued their way. 
 
 Duly refreshed they started on again when the sun. was 
 lower, and now for a time they passed through fertile low- 
 lands where the sturdy peasants were sowing the fields just 
 ploughed after being softened by the autumn rains. Again, 
 as they began to climb once more, they found themselves 
 among olive groves and saw the gatherers busily at work. 
 
 More rugged grew the ascent and after a time they reached 
 high ground which commanded a wide sweep of the surround- 
 ing country. And the scene was a goodly one. Even without 
 its associations it might well fascinate the beholder’s eye. 
 Below was the whole expanse of the plains of Esdraelon. 
 Through the openings in the hills made by the water courses 
 the low-lying Jordan valley, though not the river itself, could 
 be descried. Near and far mountain peaks grew visible — 
 Hermon, the mightiest of them, capped with snow. 
 
 ‘All this is wonderfully fair to look upon,” said Thisoa; 
 “but Iam a Greek girl and all that I see in the prospect is its 
 beauty. To you, Naarah, no doubt it shows that which thrills 
 you as I was once thrilled, when I stood with my father on 
 the Acropolis at Athens and looked down on the Straits of 
 Salamis where my countrymen routed the stately Persian 
 fleet.” 
 
 “Yes,” answered Naarah. ‘I see places which tell of my 
 people’s past. That wooded mountain range to the south- 
 west is Carmel, where Elijah, one of our greatest prophets, 
 had his home and wrought many wondrous things. From the 
 
PART [l1I—THISOA 243 
 
 slopes of Tabor, that rounded summit not far to the south- 
 east of us, Barak, at Deborah’s bidding, went down with his 
 ten thousand to lay low the hosts of Sisera. To the right of 
 it, but much farther distant, is Mount Gilboa, where our great 
 King Saul and his sons were slain fighting the Philistines. 
 That which moves me most however is the Jordan valley. 
 Even though I cannot discern the river itself, I love to think 
 how its waters divided to let our sacred Ark pass through 
 and stood like a wall till God bade them flow again. Truly 
 there is no God but Jehovah.” 
 
 Naarah seemed to lose all thought of her friend as her 
 mind dwelt upon the older days and the miracles then wrought. 
 And Thisoa too found her own mood a contemplative one. 
 
 ‘The waters stood as a wall till God bade them flow again,” 
 she repeated slowly. “Believing things like that, no wonder 
 Zatthu thinks the Jehovah he worships will work wonders 
 once again for His own people. But will He? Ah, if one 
 could but feel sure!” 
 
244 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 xX 
 
 Continuing on their way they passed through Cana with- 
 out knowing of the miracle that had been wrought there, and 
 late in the afternoon they got sight of Nazareth. It was just 
 before sundown that they drew near to the house where 
 Naarah’s grandfather lived with his niece Rebekah. 
 
 Merari saw them coming. He was enjoying the genial 
 autumn sunshine on the housetop which has ever served as 
 porch or piazza in oriental lands. His eye was not dim 
 though his natural strength was abated. He recognized Naa- 
 rah when she was still distant, rose and held out his arms 
 prayerfully as if his welcome were a blessing. Venerable and 
 majestic, he seemed almost transfigured by the sunlight that 
 fell full upon his face; and this first glimpse of him always 
 lingered in Thisoa’s memory. As her eye rested upon him 
 she could not but think of the patriarchs and prophets who 
 figure so grandly in the Hebrew story. 
 
 When they all arrived at the house, the soldiers took 
 charge of the two beasts of burden and made their way to an 
 inn that was maintained in the village. Merari, who had 
 come below, then greeted Naarah with a warmth that touched 
 Thisoa deeply. Long he held her in his arms and fondled her 
 as if she were a child, stroking her hair caressingly and say- 
 ing over and over again that Jehovah was very good to him 
 to let him see her once more. How much he had sacrificed in 
 living away from her, Thisoa could not but realize. 
 
 “And the little ones,” he presently said, “are they both 
 well?” 
 
 “As healthy and well as ever children were, dear grand- 
 father.” 
 
 “Yet you never get through a night without getting up to 
 look after them, I am sure.” 
 
 “Perhaps not many nights, grandfather.” 
 
PART III—THISOA 245 
 
 “You would not be like your mother were it otherwise. 
 She was a good woman and a devoted mother. And Marcus 
 too is well?” 
 
 “Quite well and still the best husband in all the world.” 
 
 “For that, praise be to Jehovah. He guided me rightly 
 when I gave you to him, Roman though he was. Here in my 
 own country that act has cost me much. But no matter! No 
 matter! I have my reward a hundred fold in your happiness. 
 
 “But whom have we here?” he inquired, now giving his 
 attention to Thisoa. “Oid though I am, I should be cour- 
 teous. This gracious lady will pardon me, I am sure, if in 
 my eagerness to hear of those who are dearest to me, I ignored 
 her for a moment.” 
 
 Thisoa frankly met the old man’s kindly gaze. Too daunt- 
 less of spirit to be abashed in any presence, she yet had a feel- 
 ing of awe as she faced this noble and imposing figure. She 
 had never seen any one like him before in her own or in any 
 other land. The years seemed to have weighted him with dig- 
 nity and honor. Here surely was one whose every word had 
 been true, whose every action worthy, whose every thought 
 unsoiled. And in the instant it flashed upon her that just 
 once she had looked into a face that had filled her with even 
 a deeper reverence and wonder. When the carpenter’s son 
 had entered the house of the stricken Jairus, she had then 
 caught such an expression of tenderness, and yet of majesty 
 too, that her very soul was moved. Was this man, whose 
 whole being spoke nobility, like Jesus of Nazareth? 
 
 Her mind filled with such thoughts, she had not her usual 
 serenity and self-possession as Merari turned to her and 
 greeted her. She acknowledged his courtesy only by a smile 
 and a slight obeisance, but Naarah spoke for her and said, 
 
 “This is my very dear friend Thisoa, the daughter of the 
 Greek merchant Aristarchus. Next\to you and Marcus and 
 the children she is the one I care for most. And that is enough 
 to make you care for her too, is it not, dear grandfather?” 
 
246 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ‘Enough and more than enough,” replied Merari going with 
 slow and stately step to Thisoa and clasping her hand warmly 
 in both his own. “Any friend of my granddaughter’s is a 
 friend of mine. But even without such recommendation you 
 would be welcome. The laws of hospitality are sacred, and 
 do not our revered Commandments bid us apply them to the 
 stranger that is within our gates?” 
 
 Thisoa could not speak for a moment. So touched was she 
 by the old man’s graciousness that she felt lke kneeling at 
 his feet and asking for a blessing. For his long flowing beard 
 and his hair, abundant though snowy white, seemed to call 
 for homage rather than to betoken feebleness; his tall com- 
 manding figure was slightly bent, but his step was firm; and 
 his eyes had lost none of their lustre. 
 
 Profoundly moved, Thisoa made the deepest obeisance she 
 could without actually kneeling. Then she stood erect and 
 looked into the eyes that were gazing at her with a rare light 
 of kindliness. 
 
 “You do me great honor,” she said. ‘You have lived long; 
 you have studied deeply; you have won the esteem of the best 
 and the wisest men. It is more than kind of you to call an 
 ignorant maid like me a friend.” 
 
 “You say truly that I have lived long. I am avery old man 
 and this is the best lesson my years have taught me — that 
 the truest wisdom comes from a pure and loving heart.” 
 
 “Yet you will teach me, will you not? There are things 
 that Naarah and I would so gladly learn of you.” 
 
 “All that I know is yours. But I know so little. Jehovah 
 has humbled me and I thank him for it.” 
 
 The next day came a conference, if conference it could be 
 called, in which Naarah and Thisoa drew from the old man 
 his most deeply cherished and sacred convictions. Freely 
 did he give them. He was as humble as a child. He would 
 have listened to Naarah or to Thisoa with entire respect. If 
 either of them had differed with him, he would have said at 
 
PART II—THISOA 247 
 
 once that his mind was weakened by old age and that very 
 likely he was wrong. And as he talked on Thisoa saw that 
 Naarah had been correct in saying he was a little broken. 
 The garb of mortality, though far from outworn, seemed to 
 be growing thin and almost transparent. Looking away from 
 men and all their engrossing activities, he saw with ever 
 clearer vision the things beyond the veil. For the veil was 
 no longer thick and obscuring. He was seeing through it. 
 and beyond it into eternity. 
 
 It was he however that opened the way to the very out- 
 pouring of thought for which Naarah and Thisoa longed. 
 
 ‘What is it that you wish to learn from me?” he inquired 
 of Thisoa in a very gentle voice. 
 
 ““We were wondering,” she said, “if you had met or heard 
 of a man named Zatthu who hopes to free your nation from 
 the Romans. Naarah and I both saw him in Capernaum 
 where he was a guest in my father’s house. We are both much 
 interested in his plan and hope very earnestly for his success.” 
 
 “He was a guest in your father’s house and your father a 
 Greek merchant?” 
 
 “Yes, and he was in great peril there. With difficulty he 
 escaped from the Romans, but anxious though we have been 
 to know how he has fared, we have had no word from him 
 since.” 
 
 “Your father was generous to give him shelter. Yes, I 
 have seen him. He has been in Nazareth. More than once 
 he came and spent an hour with me.” 
 
 “And told you of all the great things he would do for 
 Israel?” Naarah asked. 
 
 “Yes. That was his theme.” 
 
 “And could you believe in him? Could you give him support 
 and encouragement?” inquired Thisoa eagerly. 
 
 “Tt is Jehovah’s aid that he seeks, not mine.” 
 
 “No, yours,” replied Naarah; “yours-above that of every 
 one. You have studied our Books so deeply. You know them 
 
248 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 so well. Do they not give countenance to his great faith in 
 Jehovah? Could you not tell him so?” 
 
 The words that Merari now uttered did not seem to come 
 as a direct answer to Naarah’s eager question. ‘The ancient 
 prophecies he knew by heart. It was in their language that 
 he now began to speak upon the future of his people and upon 
 those who were scheming or working for their welfare. It 
 was as a seer with open vision that he spoke. Not gropingly, 
 but quickly and instinctively he found the words that voiced 
 his inward feeling. From the rich and glowing imagery of 
 the Psalms or from Isaiah’s sublime phrases he selected them 
 as if he were inspired; and they were poured from his lips 
 like prophetic annunciations over which he had no control. 
 Sometimes he spoke them with kindling eye and in thrilling 
 tones; sometimes with simple, grave solemnity, as even now 
 he said, 
 
 “Let Israel hope in Jehovah; for with Jehovah there is 
 mercy and with Him there is plenteous redemption.” 
 
 ‘And that is exactly what Zatthu thinks,” exclaimed Naa- 
 rah. ‘He believes it is only because Israel does not turn to 
 Jehovah that He allows her to be trodden under the foot of 
 Rome.” 
 
 “Thus saith Jehovah,” continued Merari in the same quiet 
 and solemn tones, “Let not the wise man glory in his 
 wisdom.” 
 
 “Then you think Zatthu is perhaps too confident? That 
 he lets himself believe his own burning hope is really Jeho- 
 vah’s voice?” 
 
 Merari shook his head sadly and replied, 
 
 “We wait for light, but behold obscurity; for brightness, 
 but we walk in darkness. We grope for the wall like the 
 blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes; we stumble at noon- 
 day as in the night; we are in desolate places as dead men.” 
 
 Thisoa’s heart sank within her as these words were said. 
 There was a dismaying finality in them. Vainly did her pas- 
 
PART III—THISOA 249 
 
 sionate longing for Zatthu’s triumph make her say to herself 
 that these were but the outpourings of an aged and broken 
 mind. Merari’s intellect was not clouded. His very nearness 
 to the immortal country seemed to give him the open vision. 
 The words that fell from such lips almost carried conviction. 
 
 Thisoa’s feelings were largely shared by Naarah. The two 
 sat in silence for a time and Merari seemed lost in thought. 
 Then Naarah said, 
 
 “That verse you quoted from the Psalms tells us that with 
 _ Jehovah there is mercy and plenteous redemption. Will He 
 never redeem Israel?” 
 
 “Break forth into joy, sing together, ye waste places of 
 Jerusalem; for Jehovah hath comforted his people, he hath 
 redeemed Jerusalem. Jehovah hath made bare His holy arm 
 in the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth 
 shall see the salvation of our God.” 
 
 “Ah, but when shall this be?” exclaimed Naarah. “Our 
 people have waited so long.” 
 
 ‘And who,” said Thisoa, “is to rise up and work their 
 deliverance if not Zatthu?” 
 
 “Behold,” was the answer, “a king shall reign in righteous- 
 ness and princes shall rule in judgment, and a man shall be 
 as an hiding-place from the wind and a covert from the tem- 
 pest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a 
 great rock in a weary land.” 
 
 “But who,” pursued Thisoa, “will be this man, and how 
 shall he be known? Surely that mild healer from this very 
 Nazareth of yours cannot accomplish this great and wonder- 
 ful thing. Surely it is not in him to lift a nation up from 
 bondage into liberty and strength.” 
 
 “Do you mean Jesus?” 
 
 “Yes, Jesus the carpenter’s son.” 
 
 At the name a strange and far-off look came into Merari’s 
 eyes. He was as one seeing a vision, and in seeing it he was 
 filled with prophetic fire. Those haunting mysterious utter- 
 
250 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ances of the ancient seers now revealed to him their glorious 
 meaning. A great light flooded his spirit. He was rapt, and 
 he spoke as if an angel had loosened his tongue and opened 
 his eyes to see beyond the obscurities of sense and time. 
 
 “Behold,” he began, “my servant whom I uphold; mine 
 elect in whom my soul delighteth. I have put my spirit upon 
 him; he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles. He shall 
 not cry nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the 
 street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking 
 flax shall he not quench; he shall bring forth judgment unto 
 truth. 
 
 ‘*And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, 
 and a Branch shall grow out of his roots; and the spirit of 
 Jehovah shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and under- 
 standing, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowl- 
 edge and of the fear of Jehovah.” 
 
 And then it seemed as if the vision took a sombre shape, 
 for his face clouded a little and it was with awed and subdued 
 tones that he continued, 
 
 “Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments 
 from Bosrah? This that is glorious in his apparel, travelling 
 in the greatness of his strength? I that speak in righteous- 
 ness, mighty to save. 
 
 ‘‘Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel and thy gar- 
 ments like him that treadeth in the winefat? I have trodden 
 the winepress alone; and of the people there was none with 
 me; for I will tread them in mine anger and trample them in 
 my fury; and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my gar- 
 ments, and I will stain all my raiment. 
 
 ‘He hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see 
 him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He 
 is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and 
 acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were our faces from 
 him; he was despised and we esteemed him not. Surely he 
 hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we did 
 
PART III—THISOA 251 
 
 esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he 
 was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our 
 iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and 
 with his stripes we are healed.” 
 
 And here the cloud passed. The face brightened; the 
 voice grew exultant; the old man was lifted into ecstasy by 
 the glories now revealed. 
 
 ‘Arise, shine,” he cried triumphantly, “for thy lght is 
 come and the glory of Jehovah is risen upon thee. For be- 
 hold, darkness shall cover the earth and gross darkness the 
 people; but Jehovah shall rise upon thee, and his glory shall 
 be seen upon thee. And the Gentiles shall come to thy light 
 and kings to the brightness of thy rising. 
 
 ‘And they shall build up the wastes, they shall raise up the 
 former desolations, and they shall repair the waste cities, the 
 desolations of many generations. 
 
 “And the ransomed of Jehovah shall return and come to 
 Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they 
 shall obtain joy and gladness and sorrow and sighing shall 
 flee away. 
 
 “The earth shall be full of the knowledge of Jehovah, as 
 the waters cover the sea.” 
 
 Merari ceased. The light faded slowly from his face and 
 a look of weariness came over it. The uplift of the spirit had 
 taxed the worn aged body. His eyes closed and he sank into 
 a gentle peaceful slumber. For some time he slept while 
 Naarah and Thisoa sat in silence. By looks which they 
 exchanged they showed to each other how powerfully they 
 had been swayed by the old man’s prophetic mood and by the 
 borrowed words which had flowed as freely and aptly from his 
 tongue as if he himself and not Isaiah had been inspired to 
 utter them. They had indeed no wish to speak. Merari had 
 given them deep questions to ponder over. In Naarah’s mind 
 there was the wondering query how the shackles that galled 
 her people could be broken by the carpenter’s son. To Thisoa 
 
252 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 the question took inevitably a painfully personal shape. If 
 Jesus was to be Israel’s redeemer, what of Zatthu? Was he 
 to become broken-hearted in pushing a hopeless cause? 
 
 To neither questioner did any full light come. Speech 
 therefore became necessary after they had brooded for a 
 time over their perplexing problems. In low tones they 
 talked while Merari slumbered on. Soon after sundown he 
 awoke and all went below. 
 
PART III—THISOA 258 
 
 XI 
 
 The following day found Merari in a very quiet mood. He 
 was little inclined to talk. Naarah ventured to ask him if 
 those words he had poured forth from the ancient prophecies 
 really expressed his sober convictions; but his answer came 
 briefiy and reluctantly. 
 
 “It is hardly for me to say,” was his reply. “Jehovah 
 surely spoke through me then. The words must be true. 
 How true and when, let the future show.”’ 
 
 ‘You saw Jesus when he lived here, did you not?” asked 
 Thisoa. 
 
 ‘Yes, many times.” 
 
 SAS you talked with him did he seem to you like a king who 
 was to reign?” 
 
 ‘When Samuel saw the sons of Jesse he would have anointed 
 Eliab; but it was David of whom Jehovah said, ‘Arise, anoint 
 him: for this is he.’ ” 
 
 They felt that nothing would come of further questioning. 
 The old man had given them his best wisdom. Like him they 
 must let the future show its worth. 
 
 The day after they wended their way back to Capernaum. 
 Again they travelled under a cloudless sky, and the valley of 
 Esdraelon was as fair as ever; but its beauty did not now 
 strongly appeal to them. Almost did the light that rested on 
 meadows, hills and streams seem pale, as of a sun in partial 
 eclipse. Their eyes were not free to see because their minds 
 were full and their interests were deeply and absorbingly 
 human. Still were they brooding over the sublime and thrill- 
 ing words which Merari had poured forth when the spirit of 
 prophecy had been roused in him. So the two conversed 
 sparingly and quietly as they journeyed homeward. 
 
 Not sorry were they when their eyes were again greeted 
 by the blue waters of Galilee. They were still many miles 
 
 99 
 
254 ZATTHOU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 from Capernaum, but it spoke to them of home. Not a few 
 sails were to be seen upon it. How freely and joyously they 
 seemed to move! The sight broke for a moment the spell that 
 had rested upon them. | 
 
 “Look, Thisoa!” cried Naarah. “How gracefully those 
 vessels glide along! Does it seem as if they could ever be the 
 sport of the winds and struggle frantically with angry tower- 
 ing waves?” 
 
 “Ts there anything that isn’t seeming?” answered Thisoa. 
 “Change, change, change! Calm and then storm! Sunshine 
 and then cloud! Hope and then disappointment! Joy and 
 then sorrow! Youth and then old age! Life and then death! 
 What is stable? What is lasting?” 
 
 “Love.” 
 
 “How do you know?” 
 
 “My heart tells me so. Yours will sometime say the same.” 
 
 Alas! this was the message Thisoa’s heart wished to whis- 
 per to her, but it could not do so. The deep longing that was 
 in it had not been fed. The thrill of joy it coveted never came. 
 When Naarah had suggested that their journey to Nazareth 
 might bring them tidings of Zatthu, Thisoa could not help 
 hoping that it might be so; and at Merari’s house she had 
 indeed got word of him, but a meagre and unsatisfying word 
 it had been. So it was not without a sinking of heart that 
 she had set forth on the homeward journey. She was turning 
 away from the hills into which Zatthu had fled for refuge and 
 in the fastnesses of which he might even then be concealed. 
 Perhaps he had been pursuing his end while they were there. 
 But she could discover nothing. She could only go down to 
 her home by the lakeside while he and his doings were wrapped 
 inmystery. But it was to him as much as to the utterances of 
 Merari that her thoughts had been turning as they followed 
 the winding road that led down to Tiberias and then on by 
 the border of the lake. 
 
 Naturally she did not find it in her to comment on Naarah’s 
 
PART UI—THISOA 255 
 
 answer to her own question. So they rode on again in silence 
 till they found themselves nearing their own homes. 
 
 “You have given me great pleasure, Naarah,” said Thisoa, 
 as the time came for them to part. “Your patriarchs and 
 prophets must have been men like your grandfather. I shall 
 think of him often.” 
 
 “TY am sure they were. I have revered him all my life, and 
 more than ever now, when he seems almost to be looking into 
 the world beyond.” 
 
 Gladly, and yet with the spell of wonder and brooding still 
 upon her, Thisoa approached her home. As she entered it a 
 wild hope, prompted by mere longing sprang up in her heart, 
 that in her absence some news of Zatthu might have come. 
 Perhaps he himself was there and waiting to tell her his won- 
 drous and exciting story. But the moment she saw her 
 mother hope was shattered. Calmly, though with deep affec- 
 tion, Xenodice greeted her and as if nothing of interest had 
 happened in Capernaum, and inquired eagerly about the aged 
 Hebrew of whom she had so often heard. So Thisoa related 
 her experiences with all the zest she could, though somehow 
 they seemed strangely without interest to her now. 
 
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PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 259 
 
 I 
 
 With a deep joy in his heart Zatthu had joined Kelita and 
 Shobek on the night of his escape from the house of Aris- 
 tarchus and had fled under cover of the darkness. When morn- 
 ing broke he was safe in the hills that look down on the Lake 
 of Galilee. 
 
 Yes, joy was in his heart. Jehovah had not forsaken him. 
 Aliens had sheltered and cared for him even as the woman of 
 Zarephath had nurtured Elijah. He was sure the meeting with 
 the Greek merchant was divinely planned. How wonderful 
 were the ways of the God of Israel! How glorious a thing it 
 was to serve Him! And that he, Zatthu, should be called to 
 this august and holy service of lifting the yoke of Israel! Yet 
 doubtless he was called. Every thing that had happened 
 since he was cast into prison at Cesarea made him sure that 
 it was so. 
 
 A little before sunrise Zatthu and his two comrades reached 
 a rocky elevation that commanded the lake. Across its wa- 
 ters, which were already beginning to gleam in the growing 
 light, they looked eastward to the hills of Gaulanitis. Above 
 their rugged heights the sky soon reddened. The lake imme- 
 diately caught the hue and grew crimson as the sun neared 
 the horizon. The whole east was now aflame and the few thin 
 vapory clouds that floated above the mountains but deepened 
 the fiery glow. And in a few moments the sun itself, not with 
 the blaze of noonday but with dimmed and curtained splendor 
 that was in keeping with the hush of morning, climbed into 
 sight. | 
 
 “Behold it,” cried Zatthu stretching forth his arms. “It 
 is even like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber and it 
 rejoices like a strong man to run a race. And even so our own 
 race shall be run. Let us be as unwearied as the sun and let 
 us see in this glorious sight Jehovah’s promise that our cause 
 
260 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 is not to fail. When the hour to strike is come, He will in His 
 own way make it known and the news will flash over all Judza 
 even as the light of the dawn has just overspread the sky. 
 Hope, hope, hope! I see boundless hope in this flaming east 
 that has sent its rays to the farthest dwellings of men. Let 
 us go on our way with stout and rejoicing hearts. The end 
 is sure.” 
 
 With a feeling of elation they took a last look at the lake 
 from which the red glow was rapidly fading and then plunged 
 into a ravine that hid it from view. Coming soon to a hut 
 that was plainly inhabited, they stopped. ‘The sight of it 
 brought a sense of hunger. While their minds were busy they 
 had not thought of the body. Now they suddenly realized 
 that it was many hours since they had eaten. 
 
 The hut was rude but it suggested comfort. It was staunch 
 enough to resist wind and rain. Close to it were a shed for 
 cattle and a sheepfold in which several sheep were to be seen. 
 Within there ought to be enough for three hungry wayfarers. 
 Zatthu went up to the door and knocked. 
 
 Shuffling steps were presently heard approaching it from 
 within. It was partially opened and a woman of middle age 
 looked questioningly at them. Her face was wrinkled and 
 browned. Her hair was gray. Her figure had the stoop that 
 is given by steady toil. In a bewildered way she gazed from 
 one of them to another, but after a moment or two her eyes 
 became fixed on Zatthu. She opened the door wide, stared 
 at him intently, and as she did so an eager hopeful look came 
 into her face. So curious was her manner that they waited 
 for her to speak. She did so and said eagerly, 
 
 “Are you Jesus of Nazareth?” 
 
 “No,” replied Zatthu, startled and far from pleased. “But 
 why do you ask?” 
 
 “Because my husband is bed-ridden and I was hoping you 
 could cure him. Oh, don’t you believe you could? Just come 
 inside and look at him.” 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 261 
 
 Not knowing how to refuse, Zatthu stepped inside and 
 Kelita and Shobek followed him. They found themselves in 
 a long dimly lighted room which was plainly the whole inte- 
 rior of the lowly dwelling. It contained everything the daily 
 wants of its humble occupants required. 
 
 At one end of it was a rude bed toward which the woman 
 went, looking round beseechingly as she did so. Zatthu fol- 
 lowed her. Somewhat doubtfully Kelita and Shobek did like- 
 wise, though keeping a little distance behind. As they drew 
 near the bed they made out a form beneath the clothes and a 
 head of thick matted gray hair, which, tangled and dis- 
 arranged as it was, almost covered two bright eyes that gazed 
 searchingly at them. 
 
 “There,” said the woman, as she and Zatthu stood close 
 beside the bed, “just look at him. He got wet through one 
 cold day when he was hunting for a sheep that had strayed 
 and he’s been like this ever since. Three years ago that was, 
 and he’s had a dreadful lot of pain. It’s hard on me too; for 
 you see I have to look after the sheep and the two cows and 
 take care of him besides. My brother’s boy comes twice be- 
 tween every two Sabbaths to help me, or I wouldn’t get along 
 at all. Oh, couldn’t you lay your hands on him and say a 
 word and make him well?” 
 
 “Yes,” said the man gazing up with a piteous entreating 
 look. ‘Do heal me! I have been lying here so long, so long. 
 I suffer so much and it hurts me to see my wife work so hard 
 and I not able to lift a finger to help her.” 
 
 In spite of himself Zatthu was moved. In spite of himself, 
 because he was deeply annoyed at being mistaken for the man 
 of Nazareth. Was it always to be thus? Was his path ever 
 to be haunted by this son of a carpenter? But he controlled 
 his indignation, looked pityingly at the man and said, 
 
 “Gladly would I help you if I could; but to heal those who 
 are stricken is not in my power.” 
 
262 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “But Jesus of Nazareth heals,” said the woman. “Why 
 couldn’t your” 
 
 “How do you know he heals?” 
 
 “Oh, they all say he does. They are all running after him, 
 you know. And then he cured my cousin Amariah’s wife of 
 the palsy. ‘They live over on the other side of the hills, not 
 very far from Capernaum. One day Jesus drew near. The 
 people gathered about him and he spoke to them and cured 
 all those who were ailing. My cousin heard of it. He half 
 led and half carried his wife to the spot. Mightily afraid he 
 was when he got there that Jesus wouldn’t see them, the people 
 were all crowding so thick about him. He was just going to 
 cry out so as to be noticed, when Jesus made the people stand 
 aside and came and laid his hand on the poor palsied woman. 
 You see, he knew somehow that she was there and needed help, 
 and the help came. The moment he touched her, she knew 
 she was well. And she was — just as well as you and I are. 
 She told me all this herself; so I know.” 
 
 The woman stopped speaking. She had been gazing in- 
 tently into Zatthu’s face all the time, and she realized after a 
 while that he was not hearing her. It was true. The main 
 fact told, he did not care for the details of the story. His 
 mind was occupied by his own brooding resentment. 
 
 “Don’t you believe what I say?” inquired the woman after 
 a moment’s pause. 
 
 “T am not of those who run after Jesus of Nazareth,” was 
 the reply. “I believe he is a menace to our nation.” 
 
 Then he turned to Kelita and Shobek and said quickly be- 
 fore the woman could speak again, 
 
 “T think we would best be going. At some other place we 
 will find what we are seeking.” 
 
 While the woman stood wondering, he walked rapidly to 
 the door and out into the open. Kelita and Shobek were close 
 behind him. Silently they continued on their way through 
 the ravine. Zatthu walked dejectedly, looking neither to 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 263 
 
 right nor left. Already the hope that had been kindled by 
 the red glow of the sunrise had been dimmed. 
 
 They came to another peasant’s dwelling ere a half hour 
 had passed, and here they found the refreshment they de- 
 sired. But Zatthu ate mechanically. He had lost his crav- 
 ing for food. 
 
264 ZATTHO—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 II 
 
 The next day the three adventurers — for such they may 
 be called — reached Nazareth without meeting with any note- 
 worthy experiences. They had proceeded slowly. They had 
 studied and talked with people as they fell in with them. At 
 Cana they had stopped for half a day and watched and ob- 
 served. Was the temper that they found hostile to Rome? 
 Would it kindle at the thought of driving this proud enemy 
 out of the land? It hardly seemed so. Yet no searching 
 tests were made. Zatthu did not pursue the quest with ardor. 
 A cloud seemed to be upon his spirit. The plea of the bed- 
 ridden shepherd and his wife was still chilling his enthusiasm. 
 
 He sought Nazareth because it had been the home of this 
 carpenter’s son who had become to him a stumbling block. 
 Here Jesus had lived long. Here he could find out how this 
 strange healer was regarded by those who knew him well. 
 Surely the people of his own village could estimate him at his 
 proper worth. 
 
 That they viewed Jesus with unfriendly eyes he soon found 
 as he went freely among them. They had known him as a 
 man of toil like themselves, and as blameless in his life. But 
 the claim he made in their synagogue was blasphemous and 
 had roused their indignation. What! he, who all these years 
 had walked their streets, become suddenly the deliverer prom- 
 ised long ago! It was unthinkable! Still, there were some 
 who would not judge and who advised Zatthu to seek Eliud 
 Merari. This old Hebrew, so they said, was wise and learned. 
 To be sure, he had allowed his granddaughter to marry a 
 Roman; but the Roman had adopted their own faith and was 
 accounted a good man. And Merari himself had always kept 
 the Commandments and had at one time been much reverenced 
 by the elders and scribes. 
 
 Zatthu opened his eyes wide at this mention of Marcus. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 265 
 
 How his past kept staring at him! Were his experiences 
 forming themselves into a chain that would always be fas- 
 tened to him? No, that could hardly be. To think it, was to 
 show distrust in Jehovah. But he would seek this old Hebrew 
 about whom, as he now remembered, he had heard Aristarchus 
 inquire and Marcus speak when he was listening to them in 
 the little apartment adjoining his host’s sick-room. 
 
 Going to the house where Merari lived, he was deeply 1m- 
 pressed by his noble aspect, and he greeted him with profound 
 respect. 
 
 “Almost,” he said, ‘does it seem as if I stood in the pres- 
 ence of Samuel or Elijah, to each of whom the spirit of Jeho- 
 vah was given in no common measure.” 
 
 “Do not say it! Do not think it! they heard the voice of 
 Jehovah. I am but as a little wandering child that would 
 fain be guided to its home.” 
 
 “But you are very wise. You know our Scriptures. You 
 have lived in many lands. You know the minds of men. 
 Gladly would I learn of you.” 
 
 “YT have nothing to give. Years ago I was proud of my 
 knowledge. But God has humbled me. I grope in the dark 
 and long for light.” 
 
 ‘So I think our father Jacob and Moses himself would have 
 spoken as their days were coming to an end. It is your lack 
 of pride that makes me seek enlightenment from you. When 
 you pondered over our ancient writings, surely they helped 
 you to form some fixed beliefs. ‘Those promises of our na- 
 tion’s redemption — when and how are they to be fulfilled?” 
 
 It was only after he had sat some time in silence, looking 
 dreamily before him, that Merari answered, 
 
 “IT do not know. Would that I did.” 
 
 “And that Messiah who is to lift us into greatness — have 
 you no idea when he will come and how?” 
 
 “Sometimes I think he is here now.” 
 
 Well did Zatthu understand who it was that the old man 
 
266 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 had in mind. He understood and a feeling of bitterness rose 
 in his heart. The Nazarenes he had previously talked with 
 had for the most part spoken contemptuously of this man of 
 toil who set up to be their promised saviour; but they were 
 ignorant and common. He had come to this august and 
 learned character to get a more discerning view. He could 
 not be like the rabble who thought as their feelings bade them. 
 Yet it seemed as if he were as blind as they. Thinking thus, 
 it was with a tinge of resentment that he asked, 
 
 “Flow could that be? How could the promised Messiah 
 appear and the people not be aware of it?” 
 
 “Did the people always see in Moses one whom God had 
 sent?” 
 
 “That was long ago. We have been warned that this de- 
 liverer was to come. For many generations we have been on 
 the watch for him.” 
 
 **And even as of old, we may be blind. We may be blind.” 
 
 “TI do not believe we could be. But if you think the de- 
 liverer is here, you must be thinking of some man who is even 
 now working the things that make for our deliverance. Who 
 is the man?” 
 
 “Jesus the carpenter’s son who had his home here in Naza- 
 reth.” 
 
 “But he was thrust out from the synagogue here for blas- 
 phemy. He is stirring up and misleading the common people 
 while he neglects our elders, our scribes, our Pharisees.” 
 
 Merari was still groping for light. It was in a very mildly 
 protesting manner that he replied, 
 
 “YT fear our Nazarenes were rash and misguided when they 
 laid violent hands on Jesus. He is gentle and good and wise. 
 More than once has he come here and talked with me. His 
 spirit is reverent and holy. I cannot think he will do the 
 people harm.” 
 
 “You are guileless and your years have left you kindly and 
 trustful. I cannot be surprised that you think in this friendly 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 267 
 
 way of Jesus, though I could wish it were otherwise. For 
 you do not understand. He is a mischief maker. By some 
 strange, but surely some unholy art he cures diseases and gets 
 the people on his side. He mingles with the coarse, the un- 
 clean and the defiling, and thus mocks at our sacred tradi- 
 tions. All this baser horde he fills with the idea that he is 
 their leader and protector. But when the trumpet rings 
 through Zion, will he make them obey its call? No, for he 
 will be powerless to array them against Rome himself, and he 
 has turned them away from the men of exalted rank and sta- 
 tion whom the people should follow and obey.” 
 
 ‘And is the trumpet soon to ring through Zion?” 
 
 “It surely will. Rome’s hour has almost come.” 
 
 ‘And the real deliverer — is he at hand?” 
 
 “TI am convinced he is.” 
 
 ‘His name?” 
 
 “It is not for me to name it. From Jehovah the call must 
 come. When it does come, it will be as clearly heard as it 
 was of old when Moses heard God speaking and Samuel lis- 
 tened to His voice in the stillness of the night.” 
 
 **And the call will be a call to arms?” 
 
 “Yes, even as it was to Deborah, who made Barak fight 
 against Sisera.” 
 
 “TY am very old. My soul shrinks from alarums, from war- 
 fare, from the thunder of the captains and the shouting. It 
 turns rather to the gentle son of the carpenter who carries 
 peace, not a sword, in his right hand and who, you tell me, 
 heals the people of their ills. Hardly, it seems to me, will he 
 thrust rudely away the heel of Rome that is bruising us; yet 
 in some way, I know not now, I feel that he is to bring healing 
 and deliverance to Israel.” 
 
 “Again I say, it is your age, not the native strength of 
 your spirit, that is speaking. When the Philistines oppressed 
 our nation, the task of its leaders was to free them. It is the 
 Romans who oppress them now, and some one will surely 
 
268 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 be raised up to save them. When he is so raised up, the land 
 will tremble, great deeds will be wrought, and our salvation 
 will come with blood and flame.” 
 
 “And are you yourself listening ever for the call? Are 
 you the one who is to be raised up and become Israel’s re- 
 deemer?” 
 
 “Jehovah only knows. If the call comes I shall heed it as 
 promptly as the child obeys its father’s voice.” 
 
 Not much more was said. The two realized that they dif- 
 fered profoundly and upon a matter that touched their very 
 souls. But their parting was friendly. Each respected the 
 other and Merari was impressed by Zatthu’s fervor even 
 though he could not share it. A patriot himself, he could not 
 listen unmoved to this younger man’s burning patriotism. 
 
 To Zatthu the interview had been at once disturbing and 
 inspiriting. He had been stirred to defend his own course and 
 to pronounce Jesus a menace to the nation’s weal. Yet it 
 was not with a light and confident heart that he went away 
 from this august figure that was like the prophets of old. 
 Of all the men of his own people he had met and acquainted 
 with his purpose, this was the one whose support and sym- 
 pathy he would most gladly have secured. And the old man, 
 devout, reverent, profoundly experienced yet humble as a 
 child, paid homage to the carpenter’s son! Zatthu was sad- 
 dened as he thought of it. The strong faith that had flowed 
 in like a tide when he justified himself to Merari now ebbed a 
 little. But it must not ebb. Did David’s weaken as he drew 
 near Goliath? No, for had it done so, Jehovah would not 
 have guided his arm and the stone would have missed its aim. 
 He must be strong. He would find strength and he would 
 find it from Him who gave it to the holy men of old. 
 
 Kelita and Shobek wondered what had become of their 
 leader when night came and he did not appear. Midnight 
 passed and failed to bring him. At dawn he came, but not as 
 one worn and weary. He had spent the night under the stars 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 269 
 
 and to Him who made them his prayers had risen fervently 
 and long. And though no vision of angels had come to him 
 as it had come to Jacob, and no voice had spoken as it spoke 
 to Moses, he doubted not that his petitions had been heard. 
 He must wait Jehovah’s time; but the time was sure to come. 
 With a deep and uplifting trust he sought the dwelling that 
 gave him shelter. Kelita and Shobek were watching and went 
 forth to meet him joyfully. But the words they would have 
 spoken did not fall from their lips. On his face was a rapt 
 and joyous look that moved them to wonder. Surely Jeho- 
 vah had raised this man up to do great things for Israel. 
 
270 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 iil 
 
 In a small village at the foot of Mount Tabor there was 
 gathered a group of people as the sun was near its setting in 
 the summer afternoon. Only two days have passed since 
 Zatthu had talked with Merari in Nazareth. But it is to be 
 remembered that it was late in Zif, or May, when Zatthu and 
 his two faithful adherents fell in with Aristarchus; and all 
 that happened to him in Capernaum took place in early Sivan, 
 or June. It was still June when he fled into the Galilean 
 mountains. As he stands now speaking to the throng that 
 had collected about him, it was the glowing sun of June that 
 shone full upon his face. 
 
 The bright light did not dazzle him. His eyes were turned 
 away from it and the radiance only rested on him like a glory. 
 To all who were listening to him it made him seem like a 
 prophet. It gave his burning words an added fire. Rapt 
 was the attention that they gave him. They were all of the 
 peasant class and some of them were not of Hebrew blood. 
 Yet in all alike the land that gave them home and harvest 
 engendered a rude patriotism. They loved the soil they tilled 
 and the meadows that fed their kine. That Rome, cruel, mur- 
 derous Rome, should rule it was like an open sore. 
 
 And yet they were not warlike. When the tax-gatherer 
 came, they grumbled; but their discontent was not deep 
 enough to make them ready to face the Roman broadsword. 
 For them the lowing herd, but not the trumpet’s bray; the 
 purple of the vineyard, but not the crimsoned field of battle; 
 the noonday rest beneath the olive, but not the sleep that fol- 
 lows the gaping wound in the breast. Thrilled though they 
 were by Zatthu’s impassioned appeal, they held life precious. 
 When he asked how many would heed the call to arms, no one 
 responded. They were with him in thought and sympathy; 
 in deed they would hold themselves aloof. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 271 
 
 *“You see what sheep they are,” said Kelita disdainfully 
 when the three were talking together an hour later. They 
 were sitting under an ancient olive near the shepherd’s hut 
 that offered them rude but kindly hospitality. The sun had 
 gone down. ‘The stars were beginning to glimmer faintly. 
 The evening breeze was refreshing after the glare of day and 
 whispered consolation. Earth had an abiding strength, 
 though man was frail. Stretched upon its quiet bosom Zatthu 
 found peace and his heart still kept its courage. 
 
 “You wrong them,” he answered calmly. “Not in a day 
 does the sapling grow into the oak that can brave the blast. 
 I am but watering the ground that gives its life to the forest. 
 When the hour comes, the forest will stand up against the 
 storm.” 
 
 “A sapling may grow into a stout tree, but a sheep never 
 turns into a lion.” 
 
 “No, but their keeper, who is as a sheep when with his flock, 
 will fight manfully with the ravening wolf. These men are 
 not cowards. When Jehovah’s banner is unfurled, they will 
 rally to it.” 
 
 “There was one among them,” declared Shobek, “who 
 would hold aloof even though he heard the voice of Jehovah. 
 Did you notice the short, thickset man, with small dark eyes 
 and a cunning face, who stood on the edge of the group?” 
 
 “The group was so small that I recognize the man as you 
 describe him. But I did not really mark him well.” 
 
 “T did,” said Kelita, “and I did not like his looks at all. 
 There, I thought, is a man who would steal from his own 
 father and mother.” 
 
 “He has done things as bad as that,” said Shobek. “I knew 
 him in Cesarea. In fact everybody knew him there or knew 
 about him, he was such an evil doer.” | 
 
 ‘Why wasn’t he put in prison or put to death?” inquired 
 Zatthu. ‘Roman law is quick and vengeful.” 
 
 “Just because he kept on the good side of the Romans. 
 
272 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 He was one of their spies and they forgave him many things 
 because of the dirty work he did for them.” 
 
 “He can’t be a Hebrew,” said Kelita. ‘That evil face of 
 his did not show the blood of our nation.” 
 
 “No, he is of mixed blood, part Syrian, I think,” answered 
 Shobek. 
 
 “A spy, and not a Hebrew,” observed Zatthu thoughtfully. 
 “Then perhaps we ought to be on our guard against him. But 
 what kind of things has he done?” 
 
 *“T could tell you of more than one bad deed of his, but this 
 will show you what a vile wretch he is.. One day he met a 
 poor widow who was going to market with a small coin in her 
 hand. He saw what she had clutched in her fingers, wrested 
 the piece of money from her and ran off. She succeeded in 
 getting him arrested and brought before Pilate and she had 
 two witnesses to prove her story. But he said they were all 
 three lying and Pilate declared that his guilt was not proved, 
 though he showed he knew better by giving the woman two 
 coins in place of the one she was robbed of. The next day the 
 poor woman’s goat was found with its throat cut. Of course 
 the fellow did it out of revenge, though nobody saw him.” 
 
 “What do you think he is doing here?” Zatthu inquired. 
 
 “He wanders about much, stealing and putting his hand 
 to all kinds of mischief. He is short, but strong; can run 
 like a fox and never gets tired. He will be in Cesarea before 
 tomorrow noon.” 
 
 “To tell Pilate he has seen the prisoner that escaped, I sup- 
 pose,” was Kelita’s comment. 
 
 “Exactly.” 
 
 “But he never saw me. He doesn’t know who I am.” 
 
 Shobek smiled as he replied, 
 
 ‘The man who talks as you did this afternoon tells who 
 he is to a quickwitted fellow like him. Besides, he knows me 
 and he knows just when I was first missed in Cesarea.” 
 
 “Then you think he will betray us?” 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 273 
 “T know he will.” 
 
 “What is his name?” 
 
 “Pachru. I don’t know to what race or nation that would 
 point.” 
 
 “Nor do I. But no matter. Well, Pachru, it would seem 
 as if you were one of the foxes that would spoil our vines if 
 we let you, but I don’t think we shall. You say, Shobek, he 
 will be in Cesarea by tomorrow noon?” 
 
 “Yes, or even before this very night is half spent.” 
 
 ‘And arriving there he will of course go at once to Pilate 
 and tell him where I am.” 
 
 “Of course.” 
 
 “Very good. But you see there is no use in saying a man 
 is in a certain place if he isn’t there.” 
 
 ‘What do you mean?” asked Shobek and Kelita together. 
 
 “I mean that I shall not remain here to be taken by the 
 soldiers Pilate will send to capture me.” 
 
 “They will search through all the hills of Galilee for you,” 
 said Kelita. ‘“‘But we can hide from them. They won’t 
 find us.” 
 
 “No, they won’t find us, for we shan’t be in Galilee at all.” 
 
 “Where, then?” 
 
 In Judea.” 
 
 Shobek opened his eyes in wonder at this utterance, but 
 Kelita, after sitting a moment in silence, said, 
 
 “That would be a wise move. You could hide in Jerusalem 
 for a while, for they would never think of looking for you 
 there. Only it wouldn’t do to talk to the people against 
 Rome.” 
 
 “Not unless I fled at once after doing so. But that I could 
 do and find refuge in these hills again. Juda and Galilee are 
 not very far apart. I will confound the Romans by appear- 
 ing first in the one region and then in the other, so they will 
 never know where to look for me.” 
 
274 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Such constant flitting from place to place would not 
 trouble me a whit,” said Shobek. “I am made for it. But I 
 fear it would wear you out.” 
 
 ‘No, it would only make me strong; for it would be in 
 Jehovah’s service. Tomorrow we will start for Jerusalem.” 
 
 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 275 
 
 IV 
 
 The start was made early on the following morning. Even 
 as the sun peeped above the hills east of the Jordan, Zatthu, 
 Kelita and Shobek were making their way toward Judea. 
 
 But as they had a cunning foe to deal with they were meet- 
 ing craft with craft. The road that ran past Mount Tabor 
 into the heart of Samaria and then on to Jerusalem they did 
 not take. Because this was the natural course for any one 
 who would travel directly from Mount Tabor to the capital 
 city of Judea, they avoided it. From the village where we 
 have found Zatthu addressing the gathered rustics there ran 
 a brook that was one of the many that fed the Jordan. Bor- 
 dering it was a path and this path they followed till it brought 
 them to a highway that ran through almost the entire length 
 of Palestine. It led through the low country that was ad- 
 jacent to the Jordan till it reached the very border of the 
 Dead Sea. At that point it turned eastward and brought 
 the wayfarer by a circuitous course to Jerusalem. By keep- 
 ing to this road Zatthu and his two companions felt sure they 
 could avoid the Roman spy who had presumably gone to 
 Cesarea to inform against the much sought fugitive from 
 Roman justice. While the spy with a band of soldiers would 
 be seeking him among the Galilean hills, he would be ever 
 increasing the distance between them by journeying continu- 
 ally southward. 
 
 It was all well planned. With a confident heart Zatthu 
 walked rapidly along the path by the brookside and reached 
 the desired highway ere the sun was two hours high. Then 
 the three proceeded directly southward at a slower pace. 
 They felt the increasing heat. They were surely far from 
 danger. 
 
 Before noon they reached Scythopolis on the border of 
 Samaria. Here they rested several hours, for the road from 
 
276 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 that point ran through an unwooded tract for a number of 
 miles and would expose them to the sun’s intensest rays. 
 
 In the middle of the afternoon they resumed their journey, 
 still walking at a very leisurely pace. There were no villages 
 of size along the road, but at nightfall they could find shelter 
 in some rustic’s hut or if need be sleep beneath the naked 
 stars. ‘They had taken the precaution to bring food with 
 them from Scythopolis. 
 
 Proceeding confidently yet warily they suddenly saw what 
 made them stand still. Some three hundred paces ahead a 
 small stream, that had its source in the hills of Samaria, 
 crossed the road on its way to join the Jordan. On its banks 
 was a thicket of reeds such as grow by the Dead Sea and the 
 Jordan and reach a height sufficient to afford some protec- 
 tion from the slanting rays of a westering sun. ‘The thicket 
 had plainly been used to yield such shelter, for from it 
 emerged six soldiers whose accoutrements glittered in the 
 glowing light even though they wore no breastplates. 
 
 “Romans,” said Kelita. ‘To the hills! To the hills at 
 once.” 
 
 “Why not wait for them?” said Zatthu. ‘They would not 
 know who we were; and the hills have no woods for us to 
 hide in.” 
 
 “We are all three known by all the Romans in Palestine — 
 you, because a full description of you has been sent to every 
 post; Shobek by his height; and I by this hump of mine. 
 Our best chance is to take to these hills. See, they are turning 
 this way. We will get such a good start that they cannot 
 overtake us.” 
 
 ‘Yes, we must make for the hills,” said Shobek, in whose 
 mind schemes were already forming. ‘You two go ahead and 
 veer off to the right, for I noticed a path leading up from the 
 road not very far back. Let us start at a walk. If they run 
 we will run too.” 
 
 Kelita led the way. Zatthu followed and Shobek went 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 277 
 
 close behind him. It was toward the hills of Gilboa that they 
 directed their steps. The whole eastern part of the province 
 of Samaria slopes down to the low lying ravine of the Jordan, 
 and these hills, some fifteen hundred feet in height, lie a few 
 miles to the west of the river. The ascent to them being 
 gradual, Zatthu and his companions did not at once pass 
 onto rising ground as they left the road. 
 
 But their action excited the suspicion of the Romans who 
 quickened their pace. Noticing this, the Hebrews did the 
 same. ‘The Romans broke into a trot. So did the three. To 
 make their course a diagonal instead of the two sides of an 
 angle, the Romans abandoned the road and also made for the 
 hills. But they did not thereby gain at once upon the fugi- 
 tives. Kelita bore off so sharply to the right that the backs 
 of himself and the two behind him were turned squarely upon 
 their pursuers. 
 
 The Hebrews had now come to rising ground. They slack- 
 ened their pace a little and the Romans began to gain. But 
 soon the path was reached. It took a winding course, now 
 level and now ascending, and it gave the feet a surer footing. 
 Coursing rapidly along it the fugitives gained a little till 
 their pursuers also struck the path. Then for a considerable 
 time the distance between the two parties remained very much 
 the same. 
 
 The mind of Shobek was active as he ran. It easily saw 
 through the tactics of the Romans. They meant to keep 
 together so that they could not be assailed one by one; and 
 they felt sure of wearing down the men they were pursuing, 
 who could find no shelter or concealment in the barren hills. 
 
 “They are clever, but I will foil them,” said Shobek to him- 
 self, and he watched for an opportunity. 
 
 And before very long the opportunity came. Though the 
 pace was only a very slow trot, it was exhausting. Even the 
 perfectly trained athlete finds it hard to run up the most 
 gentle elevation. Several times the three stopped and let 
 
278 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 their pursuers gain upon them; but the gain was slight, for 
 as soon as the Romans noticed the halt they also took a 
 breathing spell. But after they had followed the path for a 
 good mile they passed into a wilder and rockier formation. — 
 The rise was steeper here. ‘The rests had to be more frequent. 
 Every moment Shobek was eyeing the ground to make it his 
 ally in effecting their pursuers’ downfall. 
 
 Passing up an unusually steep grade, the three found the 
 path taking a level course for a short distance. Instinctively 
 they rested and looked ahead. To his joy Shobek saw that 
 their way was now to lie for some fifty paces through a nar- 
 row steep defile, the upper portion of which was shut in by 
 rocks that rose sheer on either side, and was only wide enough 
 for men to pass through it in single file. 
 
 “Up through the pass as fast as you can go!” he said in a 
 low tense voice to his two comrades. “I think we have them 
 now.” 
 
 He dashed on ahead, the others close behind him. Emerg- 
 ing into the freer space he bade Zatthu and Kelita to stand 
 with drawn swords in the pass, a few paces from its upper 
 end, as if they intended to give fight; he himself looked 
 quickly around to see if nature favored the kind of warfare 
 he had in mind. ‘To his satisfaction he saw loose stones, small 
 and large, lying all around and a rock heavier than an ordi- 
 nary man could lift not deeply imbedded in the ground. 
 
 “Hold them by parley or by any means you can for a few 
 moments,” he said to Zatthu and Kelita. ‘Then do as I bid 
 you and I will give these fellows a surprise.” 
 
 In a very brief space the Romans reached the lower end of 
 the defile, looked up through it, saw the glittering swords and 
 prepared themselves for the seemingly inevitable conflict. 
 Slowly they advanced with their own swords in their hands; 
 but unwilling to attack unknown men without making sure 
 that they were enemies of Rome, they halted, and their leader, 
 who proved to be a decurion, called out, 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 279 
 
 ‘‘Who are your” Why do you run from us?” 
 
 “Why do you pursue us?” replied Zatthu. 
 
 ‘‘We pursued because you ran. You saw we were soldiers 
 and you straightway took to the hills. Now you stand with 
 drawn swords to resist us. It all shows that you are enemies 
 of Rome. So again I say, who are you?” 
 
 “We are Hebrews. No Hebrew is a friend of Rome except 
 the traitors who are paid with Roman gold. And, praise to 
 Jehovah, they are few.” 
 
 “You admit that you are Hebrews. I am sure you are the 
 very ones whom Galba, the centurion in command at Jerusa- 
 lem, sent me with these men under me to capture. I am a 
 Roman decurion. I command you to surrender.” 
 
 “You will have to come and take us. We know Rome’s 
 cruelty too well to give ourselves into her hands.” 
 
 Bidding his men follow him the decurion started up the 
 defile to the assault. But he advanced slowly and warily, for 
 the higher ground his adversaries occupied and the necessity 
 of advancing in single file put the assailants at a disadvan- 
 tage. And not more than a single step forward had they 
 taken when Shobek gave the command, ‘Out of the pass. 
 Quick! Give place to me!” and Zatthu and Kelita, having 
 full confidence in his resourcefulness, darted up into the open 
 space. 
 
 They were hardly out of the narrow passage before Shobek 
 was in it, rushing headlong at the file of soldiers with a stone 
 of goodly size in his right hand and several more supported 
 by his left arm inside his tunic. The decurion who confronted 
 him was a brave man, but, like all his comrades, he was with- 
 out breast-plate or shield. Not expecting to engage in any 
 passage of arms the little company had started out merely to 
 get tidings of Zatthu’s whereabouts and bring back the news 
 that might lead to his capture. So they were armed and 
 armored so as to bear the oppressive heat without too great 
 discomfort. 
 
280 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Believing his only defence was in taking the aggressive, the 
 decurion darted up the passage to thrust this formidable 
 adversary through, even as Shobek bore down upon him. But 
 he had no chance to use his sword. Before he was within 
 thrusting distance Shobek let fly his ponderous missile with all 
 his force. It struck the decurion full in the chest; he went 
 crashing down and brought to earth the man behind him who 
 was, however, but little hurt. Stepping astride the two bodies 
 Shobek hurled with the same terrific force a second stone, and 
 down went the soldier who was third in line; and more 
 quickly than his doings could be told he felled the fourth man 
 by still another missile. 
 
 Half of the attacking party being thus disabled, Shobek 
 darted back to the end of the passage and before the dazed 
 Romans could realize their danger he had the big rock, which 
 he had previously pried and pulled out of the soil, in the 
 middle of the path just at the entrance to the passageway. 
 A vigorous push would send it crashing down upon the pros- 
 trate Romans. 
 
 ‘Surrender,’ he cried, “or I shall roll this boulder down 
 upon you, and there will be no life left then in you three who 
 are lying on the ground.” 
 
 “Tell him we surrender, and give up your swords,” said the 
 decurion faintly to the three uninjured men who were bending 
 over him and his fallen comrades. ‘My ribs are crushed and 
 I can hardly speak. Probus and Dromo, I fear, are in no 
 better case.” 
 
 “Worse,” groaned the one who had received the second 
 missile. ‘Not only are my ribs smashed but my right arm 
 was broken by my fall.” 
 
 From the third who had been felled there came no voice, 
 for he had for the moment been made unconscious. But his 
 testimony was not needed. It was folly to resist and bring 
 down the threatening boulder. 
 
PART IV--THE BROKEN HOPE 281 
 
 “We surrender,” cried one of the soldiers sullenly. “We 
 can’t fight catapults.” 
 
 “Then throw your swords, all six of them, in this direc- 
 tion.” 
 
 This was done and the viciousness that was put into the 
 throw showed the wrath and resentment of the defeated party. 
 Shobek gathered up the swords and laid them down outside 
 the pass. Then he faced the soldiers again and said, 
 
 “Are any of you badly hurt? One of us is skilled in treat- 
 ing wounds and will give you help if you wish it.” 
 
 “Yes, with a knife-thrust in the heart,” said Kelita in a 
 low voice which only his two friends could hear. But Shobek 
 did not heed him, and having no taste for ending the lives of 
 his fellow beings, he was relieved when after a few moments 
 came the answer, 
 
 “No, we do not want your assistance. We find we can all 
 walk, and we will look after ourselves. But you are a pretty 
 joker to ask if we are hurt much after pelting us with stones 
 that would batter down a fortress.” 
 
 Without answering this sally Shobek, with Kelita’s assis- 
 tance, gathered up the swords of the Romans and started to 
 lead the way up the hillside. 
 
 “No, no! Shobek,” said Zatthu anxiously, “You are bleed- 
 ing and, I fear, badly hurt. We must rest here and care for 
 your wound.” 
 
 ““S-s-sh.” said Shobek. “Not a word now. The Romans 
 must not know about it. That fellow that fell with the de- 
 curion got his sword into my side when I was standing over 
 him and his captain. But don’t be alarmed. He did not hurt 
 me much.” 
 
282 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 V 
 
 It was not till they were well out of sight that Shobek 
 allowed notice to be taken of his wound. He was unwilling 
 that the Romans should suppose him so badly hurt that he 
 could not travel far and could be found by an organized 
 search. But his wound was really a severe one and made it 
 necessary that they should find a resting-place as soon as 
 possible. Journeying over a mountain path was painful and 
 might cause dangerous inflammation. 
 
 Far up the hillside they rested while Kelita dressed the 
 wound and stayed the flow of blood. Shobek then declared 
 that he was able to proceed by stepping cautiously and slowly. 
 
 “But before we start,” he said, “I want you to bury those 
 six Roman swords, Kelita, where they will never be found.” 
 
 “A pity to waste such good weapons,” replied Kelita. 
 “Why not keep them?” 
 
 “Zatthu and I have swords; we got them in Cesarea. You 
 always have that dagger of yours when it comes to fighting. 
 Put them where no one will ever see them. I am really sorry 
 for those soldiers. What a story they will have to make up 
 to explain why they come back without their weapons!” 
 
 “The Romans are all liars. They will make up their story 
 without any trouble; and even if they told the plain truth, 
 they would make out a good case for themselves. That boul- 
 der would have pounded the life out of those three who lay 
 there sprawling.” 
 
 So saying, Kelita, not without reluctance, concealed the 
 swords in a thicket a little distance from the path and the 
 three went slowly on their way. Soon passing over the crest 
 of the ridge they had been climbing, they descended into a 
 fertile valley on the other side. Here several shepherds kept 
 their small flocks and with one of them they found shelter. 
 He was a Samaritan as were all his brethren; but the sight of 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 283 
 
 a wounded Hebrew roused his compassion and to all three he 
 gave the best accommodation that his meagre home allowed. 
 
 Shobek sank down gladly on the rude bed that was pre- 
 _ pared for him and there he had to stay. To have gone fur- 
 ther would have endangered his life; so there was nothing to 
 do but wait and risk pursuit and capture. For a number of 
 days they watched in deep anxiety; but no Romans ap- 
 peared. Half of the routed soldiers had been too badly hurt 
 to travel rapidly and they were a considerable distance from 
 Jerusalem. By the time the decurion and his command ar- 
 rived at Jerusalem no doubt the three Hebrews were supposed 
 to have made good their escape into some out of the way 
 fastnesses in the hills. 
 
 As day after day passed by and they were still unmolested, 
 Kelita grew restless. 
 
 “Could you not look after Shobek and his wound while I 
 go and spy the country?” he said one day to Zatthu after 
 they had been some ten days in the valley. 
 
 “That I would gladly do, but where do you want to go?” 
 
 “Up into Galilee. I am sure that miscreant that found us 
 at Mount Tabor is trying to track us. I want to see what 
 mischief he is brewing.” 
 
 “Perhaps he would capture you. Then I should feel that 
 my right hand was gone.” 
 
 “No, your left. Shobek is your right. But never fear. 
 That fox could never find Kelita.” 
 
 “Well, go and Jehovah be with you.” 
 
 So Kelita departed and was gone five days. <A smile of 
 satisfaction was on his face when he returned and told the 
 tale of his wanderings. 
 
 “It is just as I thought,” he said. ‘The dirty knave went 
 straight to Cesarea and broucht back thirty soldiers into 
 Galilee. They divided into three parties and they are still 
 scouring the country to find us. They are so afraid of us,” 
 he chuckled, “‘that not less than ten dare hunt.” 
 
284 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “How did you learn all this?” 
 
 ‘Always on the lookout I saw yesterday the glint of armor 
 half a mile away, climbed a pine by the pathway, and under 
 the shade of it the soldiers I had sighted rested. So for nearly 
 an hour I heard their talk.” 
 
 “So Galilee,” said Zatthu, “is searched by the Romans. 
 Well, I will carry out my plan and go to Jerusalem.” 
 
 And this he did the very next day, though his two friends 
 protested and demanded that he should wait till Shobek was 
 well and they could accompany him. 
 
 “That would not do at all,” was his rejoinder. “In differ- 
 ent ways you are both marked men. Your presence would 
 betray me.” 
 
 “But how about yourself?” inquired Kelita. ‘The soldiers 
 at the gate would recognize you. Many now know you by 
 sight.” 
 
 “But many do not. Moreover, I can disguise myself. 
 Never fear. Before you are on your feet again, Shobek, I 
 shall be back safe and sound.” 
 
 And so it proved. Before the third Sabbath had come 
 round Zatthu rejoined them. No harm had come to him and 
 his experiences had deepened his belief in his own call to the 
 leadership of his people. 
 
 “TI am needed, sorely needed,” he said as he told his story. 
 “TY got into Jerusalem without trouble. Our host, you know, 
 lent me a shepherd’s outfit; I joined two men who were taking 
 some sheep into the city and the guard at the gate hardly 
 looked at me as I went in. At my own home my brother and 
 sister were as rejoiced and as surprised to see me as if I had 
 come back from the dead; and I had much to tell them. But 
 I did not linger there, for I feared the house was watched. It 
 was Simeon the Pharisee that gave me shelter and arranged 
 for me to speak in the synagogues of the city. 
 
 “Three times I did so. The matter was kept very quiet, 
 and when I spoke it was a surprise to most who heard me. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 285 
 
 It was in the Synagogue of Levi that I first appeared, quite 
 to the astonishment of many. Then in the Synagogue of 
 Joshua. They were all pleased to see me. That was plain. 
 But I could not awaken much feeling; and I saw why. Iwasa 
 hunted man. They could not look on meas a leader any more. 
 But when I spoke the third time, again in the Synagogue of 
 Levi, I really touched and roused them. I pictured David as 
 a hunted outcast yet still guided by Jehovah and staying his 
 trust in Him. They were beginning to be stirred. There 
 was that in the air which makes a speaker know his words are 
 going home — when the end came as suddenly as I had 
 thought it would. The spies had tracked me. At the well 
 barred door a knock was heard — the knock of Rome. 
 
 “But I was not caught, though their approach had indeed 
 been wary. Our sentinels had been seized before they could 
 give warning, but before the Romans were inside the syna- 
 gogue I was out of their reach. The moment the knock was 
 heard I was hurried behind some draperies. A concealed door 
 was then opened for an instant and I was taken through an 
 underground passage, known only to a few, that connected 
 the synagogue with the house of Elioenai the scribe on the 
 other side of the street. Thence I was taken outside and I 
 found my way to my established hiding place. When the 
 Romans entered the synagogue no one would admit that I 
 had been there or give them any clue whatever.” 
 
 “And how did you get out of the city?” inquired Shobek. 
 “The gates must have been very closely guarded.” 
 
 “Just as I did at Cxsarea, though it was not quite so 
 easily done as when you carried it through there. There is 
 no one like you to help a man over a high wall on a dark 
 night.” : 
 
 ‘And what shall we do now?” asked Kelita. 
 
 “Find a hiding place in the hills of Judea, now that Shobek 
 seems to be fully recovered, and wait there for a time. I will 
 show myself often enough to keep the Romans uneasy and 
 
286 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 our people hopeful. Their zeal has cooled because they have 
 not seen me or heard much about me for a long time. But I 
 put fire into their hearts; and when they find that I am active 
 still, they will be looking for the hour when Jehovah will set 
 them free. And the hour will come. All that is needed to 
 bring it is an unshaken faith.” 
 
 ‘An unshaken faith!” said Kelita slowly and with a puzzled 
 air. ‘An unshaken faith! Yes, that is the only thing that 
 will bring success. But how long can a faith be kept un- 
 shaken if nothing is done? Would it not be wise to make it 
 burst at once into a flame? Why not raise the banner of 
 revolt as Maccabeus the Hammer did, and see if our people 
 would not flock to it from near and far?” 
 
 ‘There have been times when I was on the point of doing 
 it,” answered Zatthu. ‘But we have too strong a foe to face.” 
 
 “There are not many Roman soldiers in all Palestine.” 
 
 “But more, whole armies more, to come at call. And ter- 
 rible is the might of the Roman legion. Rome’s hosts are not 
 to be overcome as the great Judas triumphed over Antiochus 
 and his generals.” 
 
 “But when will the time for action come?” 
 
 “When Jehovah’s call is heard. When He speaks unmis- 
 takably to some one of our nation as He spoke of old to 
 Deborah, and to Gideon. The war when it comes must be a 
 holy war, not such a one as Judas the Hammer waged against 
 Antiochus. He was brave. He was great. He was victori- 
 ous. But the blows he struck, he struck by the might of his 
 own great spirit. Jehovah surely looked down with approval 
 upon him, but Jehovah’s hand was not seen in the days of 
 battle. Jehovah did not destroy the armies of Syria as He 
 drowned the Egyptians and visited the hosts of Sennacherib 
 with death.” 
 
 Zatthu ceased and silence fell for a time upon the three. 
 They were sitting outside the shepherd’s hovel. It was a day 
 in the autumn month of Tisri when the early rains begin. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 287 
 
 Already the showers had been frequent enough to freshen all 
 green growing things; but the sun was then shining brightly 
 down upon them and the air was deliciously clear and cool. 
 Shobek, who had not spoken at all, had a grave look that 
 wore the tinge of resignation. He did not now break the 
 silence; but to one who tried to read his thoughts his look 
 would have suggested invincible loyalty rather than buoyant 
 hope. Kelita’s questioning mood had by no means passed, 
 but he too was dominated by an unwavering attachment to 
 his leader; and even though he longed for a more active 
 policy, the calm resolution written all over his countenance 
 showed that he would follow him unflinchingly even to death. 
 But he too now kept his thoughts to himself, and it was Zatthu 
 who again began to speak. 
 
 “Yes,” he resumed, “it must be a holy war, and the call to 
 it cannot come till the people are ready to hear it and obey. 
 Their minds are perverted now. They are heeding a false 
 prophet; and not till they have turned from him and re- 
 pented of their folly will Jehovah speak. All Galilee, as you 
 know, is running after Jesus of Nazareth, the son of a car- 
 penter, because by some strange unhallowed power he heals 
 their diseases, or makes them think he does, while he sees 
 Jehovah’s chosen people trodden under the oppressor’s heel 
 and does not lift hand or voice to deliver them.” 
 
 “Do they also believe in him at Jerusalem?” asked Shobek. 
 
 “IT am thankful to say that they do not. That is the one 
 thing that gives me hope just now. The common people, who 
 are as easily led astray at this present time as they were in 
 the wilderness under Moses, approve his monstrous claims. 
 But the men of light and understanding see how unworthy, 
 how impious he is. I was seized and taken to Cesarea, you 
 know, just before our great Passover. Just after I was car- 
 ried away he appeared in Jerusalem at the time of the Pass- 
 over, and grossly offended our priests and all our men of dig- 
 nity and learning by overthrowing the tables of the money- 
 
288 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 changers at the temple. And then, to crown his presumption, 
 he drove away with a scourge not only the money-changers 
 but all those who sold animals for sacrifice. Many of the 
 weaker minds believed on him then because of the things he 
 did. But the Pharisees and all who keep alive our sacred tra- 
 ditions were shocked by his conduct. And just so it was 
 when he came again to the city not a great while after the 
 Passover. He did not tarry long, and yet long enough to 
 show what an impostor he is. Again he performed some of 
 those strange cures that he works; and in particular he healed 
 a man at the pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath and bade him 
 take up his bed and walk. When the Pharisees reproached 
 him for thus desecrating our holy day, on which no man is to 
 work, he burst forth into a passionate speech, in which he 
 claimed to be the Son of God. So filled with wrath were our 
 leaders that they were eager to put him to death. But he 
 evaded them and quickly withdrew from the city. 
 
 **So you see he does not mislead the minds that are forti- 
 fied by study of our Scriptures and reverent observance of 
 our sacred usages. But the common people are always fickle. 
 He has got them on his side throughout all Galilee. Here in 
 Judea and in Jerusalem he contrives to pervert many of them. 
 But his day will pass! His day will pass! Every false 
 prophet shows how false he is in time. And when his power 
 is broken and the people run after him no longer, then I am 
 sure the call of Jehovah will be heard; then the true prophet 
 will arise; then will he raise the banner that the God of Israel 
 himself will lead to victory.” 
 
 “And the prophet’s name shall be Zatthu,” said Kelita 
 fervently; for he had been reached and quickened by his 
 leader’s enthusiasm. 
 
PART IV--THE BROKEN HOPE 289 
 
 VI 
 
 So Zatthu went south into the Judean hills, devoutly be- 
 lieving that the call from on high would come when the Star 
 of the One born at Bethlehem should wane. Following Zat- 
 thu’s plan they had found their way into Judea instead of 
 returning into Galilee; for the spy, they felt sure, was still 
 scouring Galilee with the myrmidons sent out from Cesarea. 
 True, the centurion in command at Jerusalem was from time 
 to time dispatching searching parties in various directions 
 from that city. Such was the fame of the three outlaws that 
 the quest for them was not readily abandoned. But Judea 
 was very mountainous. It was no difficult matter to find 
 hiding places in its hills where no band of soldiers would ever 
 come unless treachery guided them. And of treachery they 
 were not afraid. 
 
 Through the whole length of Judea runs a lofty table-land 
 from north to south. Nearly everywhere it is well over two 
 thousand feet in height, Jerusalem itself being twenty-six 
 hundred feet above the level of the ocean and nearly four 
 thousand feet higher than that deep-sunken body of water, 
 the Dead Sea. Steep is the ascent westward from this vast 
 salty pool, and less than twenty miles from its central part is 
 Hebron, where Abraham dwelt and David at one time reigned. 
 It is a lofty point, three thousand feet above the ocean level, 
 and looks down on the oaks of Mamre where the three angels 
 came to the great father of Israel as he sat in his tent in the 
 heat of the day. 
 
 It was hither that Zatthu found his way with his two de- 
 voted allies. He reasoned rightly that the Romans would go 
 northward rather than southward for him and would never 
 look for him in the high mountain country of Hebron. So 
 for a whole month he remained there in security, nor did he 
 live in concealment. He had come there with a purpose. 
 
290 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 While he was waiting for the great and final hour to strike 
 he would get into communion with the spirits of the olden 
 time who had walked with Israel’s God. He would tread the 
 ground that they had trod. He would feel their presence ln- _ 
 gering there and giving strength to his soul. 
 
 Hebron! Abraham had there received the Hele visitants 
 who made known the dread Jehovah’s will. And there had 
 the royal David dwelt, with whom the Rock of Israel made an 
 everlasting Covenant. Where in all Palestine was there a 
 more hallowed spot? Where could the past of God’s chosen 
 people speak more appealingly? 
 
 The oaks of Mamre? It was among them that Israel’s 
 founder had pitched his tent; and the people of Hebron still 
 pointed to the very tree that was held to be Abraham’s own. 
 Not without awe did Zatthu stand before it. The very soil 
 about it seemed sacred. Jehovah could not reveal himself in 
 unveiled majesty and splendor to mortal eyes. Moses alone 
 had seen him face to face. But on this very ground had stood 
 the three who came straight from the presence of Jehovah 
 and uttered His divine behest. Reverently Zatthu gazed up 
 into the heavens, almost expecting that they would open and 
 the same messengers that had startled Abraham’s eyes would 
 show themselves again. Surely they were not far away. 
 Surely they were reading his own thought and blessing it. 
 The people he had set himself to free was the same that Jeho- 
 vah had delivered out of Egypt and saved again and again 
 from the uncircumcised heathen in the Promised Land. Over 
 this same ground had walked David whom God had taken 
 from the sheep-cote and from following the sheep to do mighty 
 deeds for Israel; David, whose seed was to endure forever and 
 his throne as the days of heaven. Yet his seed was now 
 crushed under Rome’s iron heel and his throne dishonored by 
 the worshippers of graven images. This profanation could 
 not but be seen and noted in the heavens. Surely the divine 
 displeasure must be ever waxing greater. Surely the storm 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 291 
 
 of Jehovah’s wrath must soon burst upon the Romans and 
 the promise made to David be fulfilled! 
 
 Not once but many times did these thoughts come to Zatthu 
 while he sojourned at Hebron and walked among the oaks of 
 Mamre. So his stay there brought new strength and courage 
 to his spirit. But he did not spend his days in merely com- 
 muning with his people’s past and dreaming dreams. Many 
 times he went forth with Shobek and Kelita to sound the 
 minds of the mountain dwellers and instil the longing for free- 
 dom into their souls. He stopped the wayfarer in his wan- 
 dering; he halted the man at the plow; he made the vine 
 dresser stand still and listen to his speech. Toil was not so 
 imperious a master as this champion of Israel’s long-suffer- 
 ing children. And a hearing he always gained. No one could 
 resist his fiery vehemence. His eye flashed and his words were 
 hke a burning torrent as he pictured his country’s wrongs. 
 Often it was a group that he addressed, and when he passed 
 on, those who had listened to him felt that they had seen a 
 prophet and slowly took up their tasks again in a wondering 
 mood. 
 
 Did he really make converts? Were the men who heard 
 him ready to drop spade and pruning hook if the standard 
 of revolt were raised? This he could not surely tell; but he 
 was hopeful. He was sowing seed that Jehovah would ripen 
 into a mighty harvest when the day of deliverance came. 
 That, he could not but believe. To doubt it would have been 
 to question whether Jehovah stiil called Israel his chosen 
 people. 
 
 But the life was a restless one; it brought a mood of ex- 
 treme restlessness. After a month at Hebron Zatthu found 
 that the oaks among which Abraham had pitched his tent and 
 David had walked and brooded ceased to speak potently to 
 his spirit. He wanted new inspiration. So northward he 
 journeyed with the faithful two by the road that led directly 
 to Jerusalem. While Kelita and Shobek kept themselves in 
 
292 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 concealment, he ventured again into the city and again made 
 an impassioned harangue in one of its many synagogues. 
 Prudence however bade him not repeat the experience, and he 
 was out of the reach of the Romans before they knew of this 
 new challenge to their vigilance. 
 
 It was to Zereda, an ancient village on one of the shoulders 
 of Mount Ephraim, that the three now found their way. Not 
 near the travelled road between north and south, it afforded 
 security as well as shelter. Comfortably lodged there by a 
 humble but devout and patriotic Israelite, Zatthu made ex- 
 cursions into the surrounding country as he had done at 
 Hebron. And as at Hebron he sought strength from his 
 people’s story. Indeed, he went far to seek it. ‘There were 
 no spots with sacred associations close at hand. But beyond 
 the Jordan valley was Mount Pisgah from whose summit 
 Moses had looked forth on the land he could not enter but 
 was allowed to see. Thither he went, not minding that the 
 way was arduous over little frequented paths. 
 
 He did not let Kelita and Shobek climb the mountain with 
 him. Up to the top of Pisgah he made his solitary way, for 
 on its summit he wished to be alone. And there he spent a 
 wondrous and never to be forgotten hour. Below him was 
 the very scene on which Moses with the undimmed eye and the 
 unabated strength had wistfully looked forth. There was 
 the Dead Sea where Jehovah’s wrath against the evil doer 
 had been so terribly shown. ‘There was the Jordan whose 
 waters had stood still that the Holy Ark might be carried 
 over. And beyond was the land on which Moses had gazed 
 with rapt vision, the land which he, Zatthu, was longing and 
 hoping to free. The deep places in his heart were stirred as 
 he looked on the mountains dimly seen in the purple distance 
 and the numberless vales where his people had gathered their 
 harvests and tended their flocks from generation to genera- 
 tion. And there too had they fought the heathen and seen 
 their enemies smitten by the hand of Jehovah. What a great 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 293 
 
 and wondrous history had Israel had! It was the God who 
 called Abraham from Ur that sent Joseph into Egypt. It 
 was the same God who delivered his chosen people from bond- 
 age through his servant Moses, fed them in the wilderness, 
 led them into the land of promise and bare them and carried 
 them all the days of old. And how mighty were the men he 
 raised up to guide them and inspire them — mighty in valor, 
 mighty in their faith, mighty in prophecy and song! There 
 were Joshua and Samuel and David and Solomon and Isaiah 
 and Daniel! To what other nation had figures so august 
 appeared! Yes, and mightiest of all was Moses whom Jeho- 
 vah had honored as he had honored no other man. For there 
 on the near-by slopes of Nebo had Jehovah himself laid him 
 to his rest while no mortal eye looked on. Reverently Zatthu 
 looked across the intervening valley to Nebo’s summit, and 
 with a deeper sense of awe than he had ever felt before he 
 thought of that strange burial. Had angels ever since been 
 keeping watch over the sacred spot? Were they even now 
 peering through the clouds of heaven and making sure that 
 the earth stirred by the very hand of Him who made it suf- 
 fered no defilement? And even as the wonder came to him he 
 turned his eyes away. It seemed to him he was gazing on 
 that which was too holy for human eyes to see. 
 
 It was with a chastened and yet with an exultant spirit 
 that he finally made his way slowly down the mountain. The 
 great spirits of the olden days had crossed his vision. What 
 was he to Moses and Elijah and Daniel? Yet they were but 
 the servants of Jehovah. It was Jehovah who had made them 
 strong to speak His bidding and to do His will. And His 
 will was to be accomplished now as much as in the days of 
 old. Some one surely would be raised up to accomplish it. 
 He dared not think that it was he, Zatthu, who was to hear 
 the voice from heaven. And yet — and yet —if the voice 
 should speak, he would be ready to hear it and obey. 
 
 
 
294. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VII 
 
 The plan that Zatthu had rudely outlined was carried out. 
 With incessant and feverish activity the three traversed Gali- 
 lee and then showed themselves in Judea, far away to the 
 south. More than once the Romans heard that the man who 
 so persistently baffled and defied them was in Jerusalem; yet 
 even before they had fully wakened to the fact he was gone. 
 
 It was into Galilee that they first directed their steps when 
 they ended their sojourn at Zereda. Flitting from place to 
 place, they had made a brief stay in the village of Sepphoris, 
 only a few miles from Nazareth, at the very time when Naa- 
 rah and Thisoa were visiting Merari there. How Thisoa 
 would have been thrilled had she known that the man who had 
 won her heart was sonear! From Sepphoris they went north- 
 ward and there was no town or village in the region where 
 they were not known. But the better known they became, the 
 more the dangers thickened about them. It was only by un- 
 ceasing vigilance and unceasing activity that they kept them- 
 selves immune. 
 
 Nine months of this wearing campaign have now passed by. 
 It is early summer again and the three are in the little village 
 of Safed some ten miles to the north of Lake Gennesaret. It 
 has been made known that the hunted but elusive Zatthu will 
 speak to the people of the village just before sundown when 
 their daily toil is ended. Beneath an aged oak in the center 
 of the village he waits for his hearers to gather. Kelita and 
 Shobek, it is needless to say, are at his side. 
 
 All three have aged under this aging experience. Kelita’s 
 foxlike face has a still sharper look and shows lines not often 
 to be seen in a man not yet thirty-five. The stamp of matur- 
 ity is beginning to show itself markedly in the still fresh and 
 youthful face of Shobek. He is as kindly as ever, but gravity 
 and the settled will are to be read in his countenance which 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 295 
 
 has grown to be that of a man. Yet it is Zatthu who has 
 changed the most. His face has grown very noble. <A lofty 
 enthusiasm has made it so. But his features are wasted. His 
 eye is feverishly bright. It would seem as if the fire in his 
 spirit were burning his mortal frame away. 
 
 As the sun draws near its setting he paces restlessly up 
 and down beneath the spreading branches of the oak. Kelita 
 and Shobek are sitting and leaning against the sturdy trunk. 
 
 “They will come,” says Kelita, noting his leader’s ill-con- 
 cealed uneasiness. ‘These people lead a humdrum life. 
 Nothing short of an earthquake could keep them away.” 
 
 “You know I have talked to them before.” 
 
 “That was months ago. You don’t make the mistake of 
 speaking to the same people so often as to dull your words.” 
 
 “And you don’t repeat yourself,” added Shobek. “I often 
 wonder at that. You really have but one thing to say: ‘Rise 
 against Rome.’ But you say it in so many different ways 
 that it seems always new.” 
 
 The villagers now began to gather and the conversation 
 ceased. It was as Kelita had predicted. The life of such a 
 rustic community was monotonously dreary. Its members 
 eagerly assembled to hear the man whom they had listened to 
 before and who could give them unwonted sensations. 
 
 The sun had not yet set. Its light streamed on a motley 
 assemblage of young men and old, mothers with their babes, 
 and curious children. But they were rustics all, with the 
 rustic mingling of shrewdness and simplicity and the rustic 
 sense that life is to be taken without over much rejoicing or 
 poignant sorrow. They had the toughness of fibre that be- 
 longs to the children of the soil. Not all of them were He- 
 brews. Many Syrians had come into Galilee. Settlers had 
 wandered in from Phrygia, Arabia, Persia, and other not dis- 
 tant lands. One or two Greek faces were to be seen in the 
 gathered throng. Yet nearly all were Asiatics, with the ori- 
 ental dreaminess, the oriental love of glowing vivid speech, 
 
296. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 and at the same time with that saving possession of sound 
 practical judgment which mother earth bestows on those who 
 keep company with her day by day. 
 
 Altogether some five hundred streamed to the spot and 
 when it would seem as if the whole village had assembled, 
 Zatthu mounted a low platform which Kelita and Shobek 
 had made and began to speak. 
 
 His bearers got from his words all they had expected or 
 desired. Zatthu’s speech had not grown tame through fre- 
 quent iteration. He was now, as always, by turns passionate, 
 appealing, graphic, rapt, and quiet. He delighted his lis- 
 teners by the richness of his imagery and by his splendid 
 narrative power. Yet when he had finished he had not bent 
 them to his will. They were not responsive. His course was 
 not theirs. They were critical instead of enthusiastic. 
 
 “You talk well,” said an aged white-haired man, “but you 
 don’t cure our diseases.” 
 
 “That’s not what Jehovah has called me to do. My work 
 is to free Israel.” 
 
 “Moses did both,” was the comment of another man of 
 years. 
 
 “That,” said Zatthu, “was in the days long ago when Jeho- 
 vah was continually showing signs and wonders to Israel.” 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth shows them now.” 
 
 “Yes, he cures us of all our ailments.” 
 
 “And he’ll be our Moses too.” 
 
 “Yes, yes, yes, he’ll be our Moses.” 
 
 These crisp statements came in quick succession from dif- 
 ferent lips and the last one roused a quite general echo. For 
 immediately came the outcry from all parts of the assemblage, 
 
 “Jesus of Nazareth is our Moses. Jesus of Nazareth is 
 our Moses.” 
 
 These words again and again repeated sent a chill to Zat- 
 thu’s heart. Chagrined and saddened he waited for the clamor 
 to cease. When there was quiet again, he asked, 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 297 
 
 ‘‘When was Jesus here and whom has he healed? Do not 
 all speak at once, but let some one who can call Jehovah to 
 witness that he has been cured by this Jesus come forward 
 and tell me the truth.” 
 
 A sturdy middle-aged man with an intelligent honest face 
 edged his way out of the crowd and stood directly before 
 Zatthu. 
 
 “Jesus was here last month,” he said, “the month of Zif.* 
 It was the tenth day of the month. I remember it well, for on 
 that day he cured my blindness and made me see.” 
 
 *“How long had you been blind?” 
 
 “IT was born blind.” 
 
 “Yes, he was born blind,” said several corroborating voices, 
 while the man stood proudly erect and looked up at Zatthu 
 as if he rejoiced in thus bearing witness to the power of the 
 man who had healed him. 
 
 Convinced that he spoke the truth, Zatthu looked at him 
 sorrowfully for a moment and then stretched out his arms and 
 said to the gathering before him, 
 
 “Go your ways, my children. You are sheep without a 
 shepherd. It is through the power of Beelzebub that this 
 Jesus heals you. He will never come to you again. He is no 
 Moses. He will never lift the yoke of Rome from your necks. 
 In time you will see this. But go your ways now. Your de- 
 liverance will not come till your hearts are changed.” 
 
 As the crowd dispersed many tongues were loosed. There 
 was at once a Babel of voices, but to what was uttered Zatthu 
 shut his ears. He would have converse with none. He was 
 sick at heart and he wanted to be alone. With Kelita and 
 Shobek he turned from the chattering throng and left the 
 village behind him. 
 
 On a hillside two miles away was the dwelling of a goatherd 
 who had given him and his two followers food and shelter be- 
 fore. Thither he now went and once more found hospitality. 
 
 *May in the Roman calendar. 
 
298 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Food was set before him, but he scarcely touched it. Telling 
 Shobek and Kelita that he wished to be by himself, he climbed 
 to the crest of the hill on the slope of which the goatherd had 
 built his humble abode. 
 
 The night air was cooling. Above him shone the stars. 
 He looked below and saw the earth resting peacefully in its 
 mantle of darkness He looked above and felt that the myriad 
 lights in the unclouded sky spoke the same message of tran- 
 quillity. Jehovah reigned. Earth said it. The heavens said 
 it. Yes, He surely reigned; He was keeping watch over 
 Israel; He would neither slumber nor sleep. Uplifted by his 
 trustful mood, Zatthu raised his arms heavenward and cried, 
 
 “OQ Thou who hast chosen my people to be Thy people, be 
 Thou our Shepherd still. Make our fold to be upon the high 
 mountains of Israel; seek out that which was lost; bind up 
 that which was broken; and destroy the fat and the strong 
 who make thy people their prey. Yes, guide and deliver 
 Israel and guide me, O Thou great and merciful Jehovah, till 
 the day of deliverance comes. Keep Thou mine eyes from 
 tears, my feet from falling and my soul from death. For 
 truly Iam Thy servant and I pay my vows unto Thee.” 
 
 Perhaps Zatthu did not know how fully his prayer was 
 couched in the language of Ezekiel and the Psalms. Instinc- 
 tively he used the words and phrases of his people’s Scrip- 
 tures when he sought communion with the Most High. Such 
 channels of expression brought refreshment to his soul. 
 They made the streams which had strengthened the men of 
 old flow into his own bruised spirit. So now he sat down com- 
 forted. Jehovah was with him. It must be so. 
 
 It was a commanding crest to which he had mounted. The 
 moon had risen and im its light he caught the gleam of the 
 waters of Gennesaret. Gennesaret! Right above it stood 
 Capernaum, and there, from the house of Aristarchus, he had 
 looked upon the lake’s blue depths. There still was the house 
 by the lake’s edge, though not to be descried in the pale light 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 299 
 
 that obscured even more than it revealed. Yes, there it stood, 
 and there doubtless at this very moment was Thisoa. 
 
 Thisoa! Had he thought of her in the long months that 
 had passed since, largely through her own contriving, he 
 had safely made his midnight dash for the hills? Yes, he had 
 thought of her often, but not with longing. Jehovah had 
 raised up this alien maid to do him priceless service. But the 
 service had come to an end. He had felt that he must not 
 take it as rendered personally to him. It had been given to 
 the cause to which he was devoted, to his down-trodden people 
 whom he was striving to free. So he had never thought of 
 going back to Capernaum. It was not safe. It would bring 
 himself into danger, and not only that but Aristarchus and 
 his whole hcusehold would be imperilled if he went there again. 
 So he had not even tried to keep in communication with 
 this house that had so wendrously befriended him. All that 
 was of the past. He had naught to do with maids or with 
 generous aliens who brought trouble on themselves by helping 
 him. When he had accomplished his great task he would 
 seek them out, thank them for the part they had taken in 
 bringing about the great deliverance and receive their con- 
 gratulations. Now he belonged wholly to Jehovah and the 
 work Jehovah had given him to do. 
 
 But sudden and complete sometimes are the revulsions of 
 the human spirit. Reminiscence has a startling power when 
 it is allowed to have its sway. It now worked mightily in 
 Zatthu’s troubled soul. He thought of those days at Caper- 
 naum when Aristarchus was most hospitable, Xenodice most 
 gracious, and Thisoa full of interest and sympathy. How 
 heartily she listened to him and entered into all his plans! 
 How eagerly she welcomed him when he came back from his 
 visits to his own people and told what he had seen and heard! 
 What a wise discretion she had shown when she gave her 
 judgments on his ofttimes perturbing experiences, and what 
 shrewdness in outwitting the centurion and saving his own 
 
300 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 life! A mighty rush of feeling and desire surged suddenly 
 into his heart. Gladly would he at that very moment be in 
 the friendly home that had given him shelter and encourage- 
 ment. Gladly would he sit with the beautiful fearless girl 
 and tell her of his wanderings, his perils, his ceaseless vigi- 
 lance in evading the snares of his foes, and the soreness of his 
 heart at the lukewarm temper of his people. With what 
 ready sympathy would his every word be heard! What an 
 inspiration would come to him as he looked into the glowing 
 face and caught the enthusiasm of the noble and unselfish 
 spirit! The man in him spoke as it had never spoken before. 
 He felt unutterably lonely. His whole being cried out for 
 Thisoa. 
 
 And then came another revulsion of the spirit. This was 
 wrong, utterly and miserably wrong. Was he, whom Jehovah 
 had called to a mighty task, to be ruled by such unnerving 
 thoughts! God punished the men of old who murmured at 
 His will. Even Moses was not allowed to enter the promised 
 land. Was he, Zatthu, to prove unworthy and lose his zeal 
 through longing for a Grecian maiden? He felt ashamed. 
 He rebuked himself unsparingly and straightway sank into a 
 disheartened mood out of which he could not at once lift 
 himself. 
 
 For a long time he sat and brooded over these conflicting 
 emotions in his spirit. Could a man so torn and divided do 
 great things? Yes, he was called to do them and he must 
 do them. These human longings must be stifled. He was 
 being tried and tempted that his worth might be fully proved. 
 It was Jehovah who was putting him to the test — Jehovah 
 who was like a refiner’s fire and like fuller’s soap! The fire 
 was fierce but he would not let it consume him. It would 
 purify him, but he would be strong. 
 
 With grim resolve he rose and walked slowly down to the 
 goatherd’s dwelling. His courage was not gone, but it was 
 chilled. It was too much like that of a shipwrecked man who 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 301 
 
 clings to his spar while he waits for a sail to show itself in 
 the waste of waters. He was willing himself to be brave; 
 but the courage that has its seat in the will has lost its kin- 
 dling fire. 
 
 So in spite of his stern self-repression he entered the hut 
 with a sense of despondency and weariness. He would have 
 been more downcast had he seen that he had been followed 
 all the way down from the summit where he had passed such 
 a soul-shaking hour. 
 
302. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VItl 
 
 It was the spy long since noted by Kelita who was tracking 
 him. ‘This never tiring sleuth had been for long months on 
 his trail. It was only through Kelita’s sleepless vigilance 
 that the enterprise of this cunning enemy had failed. Through 
 the spy’s representations small squads of soldiers were from 
 time to time sent all over Galilee. He himself kept watch of 
 Zatthu’s movements, told the soldiers where to find him, and 
 more than once led them to the spot where he fully counted 
 on capturing the outlaw and his two companions. 
 
 But Kelita had an uncanny power of scenting danger. 
 Again and again he had made Zatthu give up going to a vil- 
 lage where he was expected but where he, Kelita, was sure 
 Romans were in wait for him; or he had caused him to flee at 
 midnight from some sheltering resort toward which his sensi- 
 tive perception told him the enemy was drawing near. 
 
 He was alert as ever now. When Zatthu reached the goat- 
 herd’s house he found Kelita waiting for him just outside. 
 
 “Have you been far?” was the hunchback’s query. 
 
 “Only to the crest of the hill, a scant half mile away.” 
 
 “Did you see any one there?” 
 
 “Of course not.. Who would be in such an out-of-the-way 
 spot, especially after nightfall?” 
 
 “Some meddling knave — that wretch who wants to cap- 
 ture you, perhaps.” 
 
 “Quiet your suspicions. There was no one there.” 
 
 “If I had always kept my suspicions quiet you would not 
 be alive today. I scent mischief. We had better be going.” 
 
 “No. I am tired — tired in body and mind. I want to 
 sleep.” 
 
 “Sleep then, but it must not be for long. Some one has 
 been lurking round here. I feel it.” 
 
 On a rude bed that had been made for him Zatthu dropped 
 
PART IV—-THE BROKEN HOPE 3038 
 
 and sank instantly into a heavy slumber. He was too worn 
 and weary to lie awake and brood as he so often did. 
 
 Some two hours after midnight he was rudely roused by 
 Kelita. Sound as he was slumbering he shook off his sleepi- 
 ness in an instant. Too long had he lived a hunted life to let 
 the spell of drowsiness ever bind him fast. 
 
 “We must go,” said the hunchback. ‘‘We must go at once. 
 It is not safe to linger here any longer.” 
 
 In a few moments the three were cautiously making their 
 way down the mountain side by a trail that led into the heart 
 of Galilee. The road that skirted the base of the mountain 
 they thought it best to avoid. To escape the eye at once of 
 the curious and the hostile was their immediate end. 
 
 The mountain was wooded only here and there. The stars 
 were shining feebly now and the moon had set. It was with 
 eyes peering steadily into the pale dim light that Kelita, who 
 took the lead, walked cautiously on and the others followed. 
 Suddenly he stopped. A hundred paces ahead was a copse of 
 densely growing trees. From it a gentle breeze was blowing 
 directly toward them. Kelita sniffed the air like a hound. 
 
 “There are men in that thicket,” he whispered. “We must 
 not go on.” 
 
 “What shall we do?” said Zatthu in the.same muffled voice. 
 “Go back?” 
 
 “No. That rock will hide us. We will wait there and let 
 them pass by.” 
 
 Kelita pointed to a huge boulder that stood ten paces to 
 one side of the path. They stole behind it and there watched 
 and listened intently. 
 
 “How do you know there are men in the thicket?” whis- 
 pered Zatthu. 
 
 “T got their scent. And once J heard just the faintest clink 
 as if the scabbard of a sword had clashed against some piece 
 of armor. Hark! You can hear them now.” 
 
304 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 All three listened. A low murmur of voices was clearly 
 audible. 
 
 “Could they have seen us?” Zatthu asked. 
 
 “No, we were not near enough. But it was lucky we 
 stopped when we did.” 
 
 “Tt wasn’t luck. It was because you have the scent of a 
 hound, the eye of an eagle, and the sharpest ear that ever a 
 man possessed.” 
 
 “Tf you had senses half as keen, you would have known 
 that some one was watching you when you were on the top of 
 the mountain. It is that vile dog of a spy. He found you 
 and then went to get a band of soldiers. Perhaps he went all 
 the way to Capernaum for them. They are resting in the 
 thicket. Pretty soon they will come.out and go up to the 
 house we left in the nick of time. They think they have us 
 sure if they surround it before daylight. But let us not talk 
 any more. We shan’t have to wait long before they pass by 
 on their way up to the goatherd’s.” 
 
 Kelita predicted truly. Before a half hour had gone by a 
 small party of soldiers began to defile from the copse. It was 
 still an hour before the first glimmer of daylight. The sol- 
 diers meant to conceal themselves about the house of the goat- 
 herd before their approach could be seen. 
 
 With Roman discipline they came up the path, ten of them 
 in all, silent, treading firmly but cautiously, on their guard 
 against surprise. The glint of their armor, dimly visible for 
 the moon was behind a cloud, showed that they were equipped 
 for a soldier’s work. Since the episode at the Cesarea prison 
 and the encounter at the pass the trio that had so worsted 
 Roman legionaries had been looked upon as the doughtiest of 
 enemies. To overpower them was a task to put men on their 
 mettle. But the foe these men were in quest of was not hid- 
 den. His whereabouts was known. They did not therefore 
 think it necessary to be suspiciously watchful till they drew 
 near the goatherd’s abode. So they passed by the big boulder 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 305 
 
 behind which the three were lurking without dreaming that it 
 was screening the very men they had been sent to find. 
 
 Unfortunately the last of the ten was more vigilant than 
 his comrades. When they were a few steps beyond the boul- 
 der he glanced back and was sure he saw an object that might 
 be a head, projecting beyond the dark stone mass for a mo- 
 ment and then quickly withdrawn. At once he was fired with 
 a desire to investigate. If he dropped behind and made an 
 important discovery, the breach of discipline would be for- 
 given. He resolved to try it. 
 
 He was keen of sight and his eyes had not deceived him. 
 The footsteps seeming to show that the file had passed, Sho- 
 bek had thrust his head incautiously forth to watch them on 
 their upward way. He saw however that the soldier in the 
 rear turned and looked. He drew his head back, but he felt 
 that he had been seen. Listening intently, he and his two 
 comrades heard a stealthy footstep drawing near. 
 
 The soldier was wary. He heard nothing; probably what 
 had roused his suspicion was a trick of the darkness; still it 
 was with drawn sword that he stole to the rear of the rock 
 and looked. 
 
 He had time to see nothing. In an instant Shobek had him 
 by the throat and bore him to the ground. He was unable to 
 ery out, but without trying to do so he had given the alarm. 
 As he was seized he thrust violently with his sword. It did 
 not touch Shobek but struck the bouider and fell with a clang 
 to the stony ground. 
 
 The noise just reached the ears of the decurion who was in 
 charge of the ten and all his men. Faint though it was, it was 
 just the noise to attract the attention of soldiers. They all 
 stopped and turned about. The man who now was the hind- 
 most perceived that the one who had been in his rear was 
 missing. ‘The fact was told to the decurion. The soldiers all 
 started for the rock. Instinctively they felt that behind it 
 something that demanded attention was taking place. 
 
| 306 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “To the copse, as fast as you can!” said Kelita. “I will 
 finish this fellow.”” And with his ever ready dagger he was 
 about to give the fallen soldier a fatal thrust. 
 
 “No,” said Shobek, ‘‘I have done for him,” and as he Oe 
 he smote him on the head with the hilt of the sword which the 
 man had dropped. He only stunned him but this was all he 
 meant to do. ‘Terrific fighter though he was when life de- 
 pended on it, he had not lost his native instincts of mercy. 
 
 All this had taken but an instant. The three Hebrews 
 darted to the path and down to the copse well ahead of their 
 enemies; and they found themselves within the shelter of the 
 thicket while the most advanced of their pursuers were a good 
 many paces behind them. 
 
 The copse was of walnut trees which grow plentifully in 
 the higher regions of Palestine. Interspersed among them 
 were low-growing bushes which together with the numerous 
 tree trunks made concealment easy in the dark. Through 
 the middle of the copse ran the path in a zigzag course for 
 about a hundred paces. The woods also extended a good 
 hundred paces on each side of it. 
 
 “Follow me,” said Kelita the moment they were fairly inside 
 the copse. “I know the spot and I know just where we can 
 hide.” 
 
 He turned abruptly to the right of the trail. Zatthu and 
 Shobek followed. All three stepped with care so as not to 
 give evidence of the direction they were taking. In a short 
 time they came to a point where a low precipitous rocky 
 formation brought the thicket to an end. Feeling his way 
 cautiously, Kelita brought them to a spot where the rock was 
 screened by a thick growth of shrubbery. This he parted 
 and said in a whisper, 
 
 “Down on your knees and creep into the hole you will 
 find by feeling. It leads into a cave. I will come after you as 
 soon as I have fixed the bushes so that they will not betray us.” 
 
 Zatthu crept into the hole; Shobek followed him. A mo- 
 ment later Kelita made his way in after them. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 307 
 
 IX 
 
 They were in a cave the dimensions of which the inky black- 
 ness did not enable them to measure. By groping about Zatthu 
 found it was just high enough to let them stand erect and 
 about ten paces in length by three in breadth. 
 
 *“How can we ever know when it is safe to go out again?” 
 inquired Zatthu. ‘The decurion will station men all about, 
 and it would be risking much to crawl out and look around.” 
 
 ‘““Have no fear,” answered Kelita. ‘There’s another way 
 out. And I doubt whether men will be stationed long. They 
 will think we followed the trail, went straight through the 
 wood and out on the other side. However, I mean to get away 
 before they have any idea what has become of us.” 
 
 ‘There is another way out, you say?” 
 
 “Yes, a low narrow winding way we shall have to crawl 
 through. When we stopped at the goatherd’s the first time, 
 I explored the whole country around, as I always do when we 
 make a stay anywhere, so as to be ready for times of danger 
 like this. It was then that I found the entrance to this cave 
 we have just made use of, and I found too that the other end 
 was a passage that led to an outlet on the side of the moun- 
 tain about thirty paces away.” 
 
 ‘“‘We must hurry away. They might find the outlet in the 
 daylight and daylight is coming soon.” 
 
 “We will be off again before daylight. But we must stop 
 here just a little while. That fellow you spared, Shobek, gave 
 me a wound when he thrust at you. His sword cut through 
 my left arm and opened a vein. I have been losing blood.” 
 
 This was rather an alarming admission from Kelita, who 
 never thought of himself. 
 
 “Is it safe to have a light?” said Shobek, who always car- 
 ried a flint and steel and some inflammable materials, from 
 which a short-lived torch could be quickly made. 
 
308 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “T fear not,” said Kelita. “The shrubbery at the mouth 
 of the cave is dense, yet a glimmer of light might shine 
 through and betray us. We shall have to work in the dark.” 
 
 So in the pitchy darkness Shobek produced from the pouch 
 he always had with him a rude bandage and bound up Kelita’s 
 hurt. A savage hurt it was, a deep cut in the upper left arm. 
 But working under Kelita’s directions, Shobek succeeded in 
 stopping the bleeding; and Kelita then declared that they 
 must start at once. But when he tried to stand up and take 
 the lead, he sank back and fell into a doze. The strain and 
 the long wearing life of privation and the loss of blood had 
 made him faint. 
 
 Zatthu and Shobek did not dare to rouse him, perilous 
 though the situation was. He slept on for the better part of 
 an hour. Then he awoke with a start, groped about in the 
 dark, came to himself and exclaimed in a tone of alarm, 
 
 “How long have I been sleeping?” 
 
 ‘Perhaps half an hour,” answered Shobek. 
 
 “Why did you let me? I am afraid it is light outside. I 
 must crawl through the passage and see if the way is clear. 
 You two must stay here. You couldn’t go as silently as I 
 shall, and to make a noise might spoil everything. If every- 
 thing is right, I will soon be back. If I don’t come back, wait 
 and be watchful. If nothing happens, you will make your 
 way to safety and everything will then be right.” 
 
 “T can’t let you do this,” said Zatthu. “You might sacri- 
 fice yourself for us.” 
 
 “What could I do better than that? It would be for the 
 cause. Iam goingnow. But don’t fear. All will be well.” 
 
 Kelita felt his way to the opening at the cave’s end. Into 
 it he went and through the narrow passage he crept as noise- 
 lessly as a serpent. He was above all things anxious to find 
 out whether the dawn had come. But this it would take some 
 time to discover. Daylight cannot penetrate far into a nar- 
 row channel that has a zig-zag course. Before he could ascer- 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 309 
 
 tain this he knew he was to pass through a portion of the 
 passage which was so much wider and higher as to form an- 
 other cave, about as long as the one he had left and as wide as 
 it was long. Even this would be pitchy dark, it was so far 
 from the outlet on the side of the mountain. 
 
 With confidence he wormed his way along toward this 
 roomier spot. Altogether sure he felt that even if the outlet 
 in the mountain side had been discovered — and he did not 
 believe this possible — no one at any rate had yet penetrated 
 into the dark uninviting channel and found the cavernous 
 spaces to which it led. Still, it was well to be cautious. So 
 he took pains to see that his progress did not create the 
 smallest sound, even as much as the rustle of a garment. 
 
 Every now and then he felt above and to one side. After 
 doing this five or six times he found that the passage had be- 
 come more roomy. This meant that he was near the smaller 
 cave. Just a few feet more of crawling and he would be able 
 to stand upright. But just as he became sure of this, he 
 crouched down and kept absolutely still. A startling sound 
 had reached his ear. It was the deep breathing of some crea- 
 ture. Was that creature a man? Yes, for his keen ear de- 
 tected a noise that could only be made by the brush of a gar- 
 ment upon a hard surface such as that of a rock. 
 
310 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 x 
 
 What could it mean? He thought hard as he lay im silence 
 and listened intently. Quickly a conviction smote him. The 
 man whose near presence he had detected was the spy. This 
 man of fox-like cunning had discovered the outlet of the wind- 
 ing passage. It must be daylight outside. The fellow had 
 prowled about, found the hole in the mountain side and crept 
 into it to see whither it led. Plainly he did not know of the 
 entrance to the larger cave that was covered by the shrub- 
 bery. He was simply exploring. If he got even a hint that 
 the three fugitives were within his grasp, how eagerly would 
 he worm his way back into the open and tell the Romans what 
 would bring to him a purse of gold. 
 
 Just where was he now? Kelita strained his ears to get 
 every movement. The heavy breathing did not sound close 
 by. The brushing of garments against the rocks continued 
 for just a little longer. ‘Then it ceased and a long deep 
 breath that was like a sigh of relief followed. Plainly the 
 man had emerged from the contracted passage and was stand- 
 ing upright. Yes, there could be no doubt of it. His soft 
 catlike tread upon the rocky floor of the cave was just barely 
 audible. 
 
 What should Kelita do? One end he had and one only. 
 He wanted to kill the spy. But how? The game was a des- 
 perate one — a duel to the death in the dark. For a duel it 
 was sure to be. It would be a miracle if he could strike the 
 man down before making his presence known. Still, he would 
 Thy. 
 
 And the cave, so Kelita reasoned, was the place to do it, 
 not the passage. There he would be more free to act. Per- 
 haps he reasoned mistakenly. Had he lain still and let the 
 man approach him, he could probably have pinioned him down 
 and driven his knife home without danger to himself. But 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 311 
 
 he was not one to waver between different plans. Promptly 
 he made his choice and promptly he acted upon it. While his 
 enemy was absorbed in finding the extent of the larger space 
 into which he had suddenly come, Kelita crawled forward out 
 of the passage with extremest caution. Every movement was 
 made with perfect self-control and with that measured nicety 
 and exactness with which a cat approaches an unseeing bird. 
 Yet his action had not been slow and in less time that it takes 
 one to count a hundred he was standing erect in the cave 
 without having made his presence known to the man he was 
 determined to kill. 
 
 What was his best course now? The man THabnbrediy had 
 a knife, but not in his hand. Kelita decided to stand still and 
 wait till his enemy was close to him. Now that the spy was 
 not seriously exerting himself his breathing was too quiet to 
 be heard, but his tread would show when he was within arm’s 
 length. In such a nice calculation Kelita’s sense of smell 
 would also help him. At just the right moment he would 
 grapple the man, throw him to the ground and despatch him 
 with his knife. It was all hazardous, but he thought it could 
 be done. 
 
 So he stood still and waited. The spy — there was never 
 the least doubt in his mind that it was the spy — was plainly 
 making the circuit of the cave and guiding himself as he did 
 so by keeping one or both of his hands upon the wall. He was 
 feeling his way very slowly, but soon Kelita was in no doubt 
 that he was coming towards him. Nearer and nearer he came. 
 At last he got so close that his breathing was once more 
 audible. Kelita waited for him to make just one more step 
 and then threw himself at him to seize him and throw him to 
 the earth. 
 
 The effort was rightly timed. Just one thing prevented it 
 from being successful. The man, as he groped his way along, 
 kept so close to the wall that Kelita did not succeed in putting 
 his arms around him. And the fellow had the quick wit that 
 
812 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 goes with low cunning. His face was toward the wall, against 
 which he placed both hands ‘and lurched backward with all his 
 might. Had Kelita been able to clasp him around the waist, 
 he could have clung to him in spite of this violent backward 
 thrust. But as he had not grasped him firmly, he was hurled 
 backward with such force that he almost lost his balance. 
 Even while he was recovering it his enemy whirled about and 
 made a savage lunge at him with his knife and then darted 
 back out of reach. 
 
 The thrust was not ineffectual. It gave Kelita a wound in 
 the breast which though not dangerous was deep enough to 
 hamper and impede his movements. Moreover the cut in his 
 arm had opened and he was conscious that he was bleeding 
 again. He must think cunningly and act resolutely, or this 
 fight would go against him — and then the fate of Zatthu and 
 Shobek would be sealed. 
 
 But his wit did not fail him. He knew he had to do with a 
 knave who had no real stomach for fighting and whose one 
 thought would be to get outside and tell the secret of the cave. 
 This he would prevent. Possessed of a sense of direction that 
 was like that of an animal, he darted across the cave to where 
 he thought the outlet to the open must be, quickly found it 
 and waited there for the coming of the spy. 
 
 The spy’s own thought he had rightly read. The man’s 
 one idea was to find the passage by which he had entered the 
 cave and crawl through into the open with all possible speed. 
 But he did not dare to seek it except by groping his way back 
 along the wall. Exactly this he proceeded to do, and Kelita, 
 as he waited at the outlet, interpreted his movements cor- 
 rectly as he stood and listened. The fellow was feeling his 
 way along and to Kelita’s sensitive ear was betraying a nerv- 
 ous haste in doing so. 
 
 But all of a sudden his movements stopped. Had he be- 
 come alarmed at not hearing any sounds made by the one who 
 had attacked him? Or was he now making his way so slowly 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 313 
 
 and so carefully that his progress did not break the absolute 
 stillness of the cave? Kelita decided that the former was the 
 cause. ‘He has guessed that I am here,” he thought to him- 
 self, “and is afraid to encounter me. I must find him then 
 before my strength is spent.” 
 
 Thinking hard Kelita became sure that the man’s posture 
 would be one of defense. So as not to be seized, he would 
 crouch low, with his knife firmly grasped, ready to give a 
 vicious stab the moment he was sure his enemy was upon him. 
 On that carefully reasoned conjecture he would act. It was 
 hazardous to leave the entrance to the outer passage; but 
 act he must or he might swoon from loss of blood. 
 
 Stealthily and noiselessly he crept along the wall. By the 
 time he had proceeded twice his own length he perceived that 
 he was close to his enemy. Again his keenness of scent did 
 him service. His plan was already formed. If the man was 
 crouching low, a side push would topple him over and make 
 him a prey to the knife. The moment had come to carry the 
 plan into action. 
 
 Again Kelita launched himself against his enemy. Again 
 his conclusions had been sound and his movement perfectly 
 well timed. The spy was crouching low and Kelita’s onset 
 stretched him flat on the rocky floor. Exultingly, vindictively 
 Kelita threw himself upon him and drove his knife home, once, 
 twice, thrice. 
 
 Then he rose, but he rose only by a masterful effort; and 
 after trying to steady himself for a moment he sank down 
 upon the ground. Even as the spy received Kelita’s savage 
 stabs he had put his expiring strength into a thrust with his 
 own keen blade. Kelita had won his victory at the cost of a 
 terrible wound in the side. 
 
 “TY am dying,” he murmured as he lay prone and bleeding. 
 “Tf Zatthu and Shobek would only come before I am gone! 
 I must warn them or they will be caught. I wonder if I could 
 get to them. No, I couldn’t drag myself back. I should die 
 
314. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 or lose my senses before I got half-way. Oh, how glad I 
 should be if I heard them coming. I want to say a few things 
 to Zatthu before I die; and I want to be made sure that it 
 was the spy I killed. I should die happier if I knew it was he, 
 he was such a vile wretch and he has pestered us so long.” 
 
 From sheer exhaustion he stopped speaking. He was so 
 weak that he would have lapsed into unconsciousness but for 
 dogged effort of will. But soon he caught a faint rustling 
 sound in the passage. It grew more and more distinct, and 
 he still had life enough to be thrilled at the thought that he 
 was to speak with his friends once more. Lonely, secretive 
 and vengeful, he had a burning passionate nature. Zatthu 
 had roused all the affection and all the devotion he had to 
 give. ‘The cause had been to him sacred. 'To die for its 
 leader was a joy. 
 
 “I am here,” he said as soon as he was sure that at least 
 one of the two had emerged from the narrow passage; ‘“‘but 
 I am badly hurt. Strike a light and come close to me.” 
 
 “Badly hurt, Kelita?” inquired Zatthu anxiously; for he 
 and Shobek were both now standing up in the cave. “Oh, I 
 cannot believe that. We will come and help you right away.” 
 
 By this time Shobek had lighted one of the tiny torches he 
 carried. By the light of it he and Zatthu knelt down by the 
 stricken hunchback with the deepest solicitude. Before they 
 could do or say anything, he spoke again. 
 
 ‘The wound is in my side,” he said, “but do not look for it. 
 You can see that I am near my end. I met the spy in here. 
 I killed him, but he gave me my death wound. But look and 
 see if it was really he. I shall die happier for knowing it.” 
 
 Zatthu and Shobek took a hurried glance at the corpse. 
 closeby, which they had barely noticed before, so wholly did 
 Kelita fill their thoughts. 
 
 “It was he,” said Shobek, “but he’ll never do any more 
 harm.” 
 
 “TY am glad of that. I hope I shan’t see him in Sheol. But 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 315 
 
 the Romans will soon miss him. They may find their way in 
 here as he did. Get away at once before they trap you. 
 Goodbye.” 
 
 The dying man gave Zatthu a look of deep affection and 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 “Kelita,” cried Zatthu in anguish of spirit, “it breaks my 
 heart to lose you. And you have given your life for me!’ 
 
 “For you... and for the cause,” said Kelita opening his 
 eyes again while a smile came over his face. “I... was 
 mereigladiy Sey tordont.7 
 
 The eyes closed again. In a few moments he was gone. 
 Overcome with grief Zatthu sat by his side in silence till 
 Shobek said, 
 
 “Tt is hard to leave him here, but his caution was wise. We 
 may be trapped if we linger here. If the spy could find his 
 way in here, others may do the same.” 
 
 ‘‘We could kill them one by one if they did. Why not stay 
 till night comes again?” 
 
 “TI dare not try it. We might kill one Roman if he made 
 his way in here, but the place would be known. They would 
 guard the opening and guard the copse. We should have to 
 surrender or starve.” 
 
 “Let us crawl to the outlet then and make a dash for free- 
 dom. But T’ve no heart for anything now that Kelita is 
 gone.” aay ‘ 
 
316 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XI 
 
 The torch had showed the entrance to the outer passage. 
 Through the narrow winding channel Shobek crept, with 
 Zatthu close behind him. After they had made two sharp 
 turns they had a faint glimpse of daylight. Two turns more 
 brought them to the opening in the side of the mountain. 
 
 Very cautiously Shobek peered forth. No one was in sight, 
 but his view was quite contracted. Crawling out on his hands 
 and knees he ensconced himself in a low growth of shrubbery 
 close to the opening. Thence he was able to take in the lower 
 side of the copse opposite to that which he and Zatthu and 
 Kelita had entered the previous night. Two soldiers emerged 
 from the copse, looked about and went back again. 
 
 They are watching the trail on both sides of the copse,” 
 Shobek argued. ‘Probably they are guarding the copse on 
 every side, thinking we have found a hiding place in it. But 
 I think I can outwit them.” 
 
 He made his way back to Zatthu and proposed his plan. 
 It was that he should show himself so as to attract the atten- 
 tion of the soldiers, draw them all in pursuit of him and that 
 Zatthu should then go in a different direction when no one 
 was on the lookout for him. 
 
 “Y will not suffer it,” said Zatthu. ‘‘Kelita has given his 
 life for me. You shall not give yours.” 
 
 “But this is the safest course for both of us. Alone I can 
 leave them far behind when they pursue me. If you were with 
 me they might overtake us and we should have to fight.” 
 
 “Y can run fast too. It is not for nothing that I have been 
 speeding up hill and down through these long months.” 
 
 “But the Roman soldiers are all well trained and you are 
 worn by this life and by all the discouragements you have 
 had. I can see you are. My plan, I tell you, is the safe one. 
 I am going to act upon it. I am going to dash up the moun- 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 317 
 
 tain, for I can keep my breath when I run up hill, and they 
 will soon lose theirs. When they have started after me, do 
 you take the path down the hill and make your way to 
 Gischaia. I’ll find you there tomorrow or the day after that.” 
 
 Zatthu resisted no longer. He was, as Shobek said, much 
 worn by his life of excitement and constant journeying; 
 against Shobek’s insistency he was not proof. He ended the 
 discussion by saying wearily, 
 
 “I am tired of havine my friends sacrifice themselves for 
 me. But it shall be as you say.” 
 
 The sun was about an hour high. They had brought food 
 with them from the goatherd’s and they now partook of it. 
 Water they wished but for that they must wait. Their hun- 
 ger satisfied, Shobek got Zatthu to station himself in the 
 shrubbery near the opening, whence he could watch the course 
 of things. He himself proceeded to carry out his part of the 
 program; but he did not do it exactly as he had given Zatthu 
 reason to expect. 
 
 He thought it extremely unlikely that the whole detach- 
 ment of soldiers would start in pursuit of him the moment he 
 was seen. The decurion, if he was a man of intelligence, would 
 send some of his men to overtake him but would hold part of 
 them back to be on the watch for the other fugitives. It must 
 be Shobek’s part to create confusion and get the interest of all 
 so centered on himself that Zatthu could steal away unnoticed. 
 This meant danger to himself, but of that he recked not. 
 And he did not consider the danger great. One thing he noted 
 when the soldiers filed by the night before. They had no 
 spears. He could come to close quarters with them without 
 fear of being struck down by a missile. 
 
 So instead of making straight for the path he stole cau- 
 tiously toward the copse itself. As he crept noiselessly along 
 he armed himself with two good-sized stones which he easily 
 carried in his huge left hand. On the upper side of the copse 
 were two men pacing back and forth, not very near to each 
 
318 ZATTHU--A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 other and not closely observant. Stealing up behind the 
 nearest of these, he made a quick onset, took him unawares 
 and threw him violently to the ground. Then with a loud 
 shout he rushed at the other sentinel who was hurrying to 
 the assistance of his stunned and prostrate comrade. 
 
 Seeing this tall powerful figure dashing at him like a demon 
 and yelling as he did so, the Roman, doubtless rather sur- 
 prised than alarmed, slowed his pace and stood on the de- 
 fensive. This was just what Shobek wanted. When he was 
 hardly more than arm’s length away he hurled one of his 
 stones with terrific force. It struck the man squarely in the 
 breastplate and sent him reeling to the earth. 
 
 By this time all the Romans in the copse were hurrying into 
 the open. Still shouting, Shobek dashed at the nearest one 
 and felled him with the second stone. 'Then he dashed up the 
 mountain side for a few paces, but only to turn again. He 
 wanted to make such a diversion that Zatthu could be abso- 
 lutely sure of escaping observation as he made his own start 
 down the mountain. Picking up another stone he rushed at 
 the man who was foremost in the pursuit. He too quailed. 
 Roman discipline had not trained its soldiers to face such a 
 mad antagonist who fought according to no recognized rules 
 of warfare. This man also reeled backward under the force 
 of the rocky missile. Before he could recover himself and be- 
 fore any of his comrades could get at Shobek with their 
 swords, he was off again and bounding up the mountain side 
 like a deer. 
 
 So absorbed had Zatthu been in watching this strange 
 encounter that he almost neglected his own opportunity to 
 escape. But as he saw Shobek finally dart away without 
 turning back, he realized that it was quite time for him to 
 act. So he stole out of the shrubbery toward the trail. The 
 descent was at this point sharp. The ground screened him 
 from sight, and the trail was not far off. From the lower 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 319 
 
 side of the copse it wound directly toward the shrubbery in 
 which he had been hiding. 
 
 Reaching the trail, he paused a moment and looked around. 
 He was now behind a spur which hid from view the upper side 
 of the copse and all that was happening there. He could 
 only conjecture that Shobek was distancing his pursuers. 
 But the lower side of the copse was in sight. No Roman how- 
 ever was to be seen there. Shobek’s mancuvre had plainly 
 engrossed the attention of all the soldiers. Confidently 
 Zatthu started at a swift pace down the trail. 
 
 His confidence would have been disturbed had he looked 
 around just before the trail made a final turn that hid him 
 from view. For had he done so he would have seen one of the 
 soldiers setting forth in pursuit of him. It was indeed the 
 same one who had discovered the three behind the rock the 
 night before. His head still suffered from the terrific blow 
 Shobek had dealt him, but he was by no means disabled and 
 with the rest he had started after Shobek when the big Hebrew 
 had made his diversion in Zatthu’s favor. But he was quick- 
 witted and he soon saw it was a ruse. Where were the other 
 two fugitives, for three in all there were known to be? He 
 rushed down to the lower edge of the copse and peered eagerly 
 forth. There to his great satisfaction he got sight of the 
 vanishing Zatthu. Without waiting to report his discovery 
 he dashed down the mountain to overtake him. 
 
 Running rapidly for a while Zatthu passed into an exten- 
 sive tract of woodland that covered the lower part of the 
 mountain. Here he felt that he was really safe and so let his 
 run become a walk. 
 
 But hardly had he done so before he heard rapid steps 
 behind him. Could this be Shobek? He looked round to 
 ascertain. The trail was too winding to let him see his pur- 
 suer perfectly, but he caught the gleam of armor through the 
 trees. No, it was not Shobek. It was one of the Romans. 
 
320 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Perhaps others were coming directly after him. He must try 
 to outdistance them. 
 
 He was fleet of foot and he ran swiftly. But the Roman 
 was fleeter still. The footsteps were plainly coming nearer. 
 Should he then run at the very height of his speed? That — 
 would be folly, for in a very short time he would be utterly 
 out of breath. He must trust in Jehovah; and as his prayer 
 mounted to the God of his people he thought how Asahel fol- 
 lowed after Abner and met a sorrowful end. For “Asahel 
 was as light of foot as a wild roe. And Asahel pursued after 
 Abner, and in going he turned not to the right hand nor to 
 the left from following Abner. Then Abner looked behind him 
 and said, Art thou Asahel? And he answered, I am. And 
 Abner said to him, Turn thee aside to thy right hand or to 
 thy left, and lay thee hold on one of the young men, and take 
 thee his armour. . .. Howbeit he refused to turn aside; 
 wherefore Abner with the hinder end of the spear smote him 
 under the fifth rib, that the spear came out behind him; and 
 he fell down there and died.” 
 
 Without repeating all of these words as they are written 
 in Samuel, Zatthu recalled vividly the story and felt that it 
 should guide his own course of action, strange though that 
 action might seem. So, as his pursuer gained on him, he 
 turned about and in the name of Jehovah bade him stop. His 
 command was of course received with astonishment and 
 utterly disregarded. Indeed it only served to make the 
 Roman increase his speed. A second time Zatthu uttered his 
 behest. A second time it was unheeded and the steps drew 
 very near. There was naught for Zatthu to do but follow 
 Abner’s example. 
 
 He looked back and saw that his pursuer was scarcely three 
 paces behind him. Drawing his sword he darted nimbly to 
 one side and made a half turn as he did so. The Roman too 
 had unsheathed his own weapon in preparation for the con- 
 flict he saw coming; but he had no chance to use it. Zatthu’s 
 
PART IV—T'HE BROKEN HOPE 321 
 
 movement was so sudden and unexpected that the Roman 
 could not on the instant turn and guard himself. His impetus 
 carried him along and with a powerful stroke Zatthu smote 
 him on the shoulderblade as he was passing by. The sword 
 cut deep. Zatthu could not withdraw it, and the man, after 
 making a brave effort to stay himself, fell upon the ground. 
 
 Zatthu would gladly have seen a whole host of Romans 
 swallowed by an earthquake or laid low by the avenging 
 swords of Israel; but he had no heart for a murderous single 
 combat such as this. He bent over the man in pity. 
 
 “TY am sorry I had to lift my hand against you,” he said. 
 “Ts your hurt deadly?” 
 
 “You cut deep. I have not long to live,” the Roman an- 
 swered, opening the eyes which weakness had made him close. 
 
 ‘Are you suffering much?” 
 
 “T am too faint to feel much pain. But I thirst; oh, how I 
 thirst. A draft of water would make me die happy.” 
 
 “You shall have it. There is water near. I can just hear 
 the ripple of a stream.” 
 
 Zatthu undid the soldier’s helmet and carefully removed it. 
 Dashing into the woods he quickly brought it back full of 
 clear cool water and helped the Roman to drink. The 
 wounded man murmured his thanks, and was so far revived 
 that after a moment he spoke. 
 
 “It was I,” he said, “who discovered you and your com- 
 rades behind the rock last night. Would I had not done so. 
 I have only brought about my own death and you will go free. 
 You always escape us. I believe that strange God you wor- 
 ship protects you.” 
 
 “fe surely does. Sometime He will give us the strength to 
 vanquish Rome.” 
 
 “T do not see how that can be. Rome is too great. But I 
 am growing too weak to talk. You have slain me, but you 
 have been kind and I bear you no ill will. Almost do I hope 
 
322 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 that you will not be taken. You would be crucified if you fell 
 into our hands.” 
 
 “You are a brave man and a good one. Would that you 
 had not followed me and come to your death.” 
 
 The soldier smiled feebly and closed his eyes. In a few 
 moments he drew one last deep breath and passed away. 
 
 Zatthu had been kneeling beside him. He made sure that 
 no spark of life remained and then looked at the calm dead 
 face remorsefully. It weighed upon his soul that he had 
 brought a brave man to his end. Questions began to crowd 
 in upon his mind. This man was a Roman and a heathen. 
 But he was brave; he had been forgiving. Would the mighty 
 Jehovah have no compassion for this soul that had passed 
 into the vast unknowable beyond? 
 
 But this was no time for such reflections. He would cover 
 the man with earth. That rite of decency he fairly owed him. 
 Then he would hasten on his way. 
 
 With a strong effort that he made with much inward 
 shrinking he pulled his sword from the body and took a few 
 steps into the wood. Hastily he made a shallow grave by 
 scraping away the leaves and the soil beneath them and went 
 back to the path. He was stooping over to lift up the body, 
 when he was startled by a shout. Looking up he saw three 
 more of the Romans hastening toward him. ‘They had been 
 trotting easily along; their footsteps had not been heavy; 
 absorbed as he was in his self-imposed honorable service to a 
 fallen foe, he had not heard their approach. 
 
 He drew his sword. He would not fly; neither would he 
 be captured. If this was to be the end, let it come. His soul 
 was weary through long waiting, hairbreadth escapes, and 
 hope endlessly deferred. Planting himself against a stout oak 
 he made ready for the death wound that was sure to come. 
 
 “Yield your sword,” cried one of the Romans, as the three 
 stood facing him. 
 
 “You can have it when you have killed me.” 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 323 
 
 “We would not kill you. We only want to capture you. 
 We are three to one. Surrender.” 
 
 ‘And be crucified? Never.” 
 
 Thus answering, Zatthu struck fiercely at the man who was 
 nearest. ‘The stroke was parried and the fight began. For 
 Zatthu it had but one object, to be killed. But this was 
 exactly what his opponents wished not to do. Their thrusts 
 and blows were feebly given. Their aim was to inflict mere 
 flesh wounds that would cause exhaustion. Perceiving this 
 Zatthu fought like a demon to force them into giving the 
 deadly Roman stab. He was no mean swordsman. He was 
 roused to fury and he put all his strength into long sweeping 
 strokes that parried the ineffectual thrusts made at him and 
 into vigorous blows at any one who came well within his reach. 
 
 But the fight was too unequal to last long. He received 
 two troublesome though not dangerous wounds. He realized 
 that one or two more would bring him to the ground helpless 
 but without a mortal hurt; and the thought maddened him 
 to fight with still greater desperation. Almost like a circle of 
 light his sword flew around him and almost incessant was its 
 clang upon the swords or breastplates of his foes, when the 
 fight came to an end as suddenly as it had begun. 
 
 Leaping up, as it seemed to Zatthu’s astonished eyes, from 
 the very ground, a tall figure assailed the three Romans from 
 behind. ‘Two were thrown violently to the earth before they 
 could realize what was happening and the third received a 
 disabling blow on the sword arm. Instantly his sword was 
 snatched from his feeble grasp; and the swords of the other 
 two were also seized, their owners not having been able to 
 clasp them securely as they crashed upon the ground. And 
 then, to complete his triumph, the alert Shobek — for Sho- 
 bek it was who had made such a timely appearance — pos- 
 sessed himself of the blade of the dead soldier whose body was 
 still lying close at hand. 
 
 The two fallen men rose slowly to their feet. All three of the 
 
324 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Romans stood cowed and discomfited. ‘They were ashamed 
 to give up the contest, yet they had no weapons with which 
 to fight. And what did it avail to fight with this terrible 
 enemy who was like some fiend in human guise? For in the 
 towering figure before them they recognized the man who had 
 escaped from them only half an hour earlier after overpower- 
 ing two or three of their number, and whose deeds of prowess 
 were told and wonderfully magnified in all the Roman posts 
 of Palestine. 
 
 “Go!” said this awesome enemy as they stood hesitating. 
 “Go!” he repeated in a loud commanding voice. ‘This man 
 you would gOS: 1S DES oss by the God of Israel. You 
 cannot harm him.” 
 
 “We are not afraid of Israel’s God,” said one of the men 
 sullenly, “but a man can’t stand up against a demon like 
 you.” 
 
 “T am but a man as you are, but my people’s God Jehovah 
 gives me power to strike down every hand that is raised 
 against this savior of my nation. So go! I am tired of kill- 
 ing Romans.” 
 
 The taunt kindled a faint spark of resistance. The men 
 looked questioningly at each other. But no one of them had 
 any heart to renew the fray. 
 
 “We will go,” said the spokesman, “but my comrade’s 
 wound must be cared for first and this other, whom your 
 friend seems to have done to death, must be buried.”’ 
 
 “You shall do both things. We Hebrews have hearts. 
 We are sorry for the wounded; we respect the dead.” 
 
 “Amen to that!” said Zatthu. “He was a braveman. His 
 grave is dug. It is ready for him yonder,” and he pointed 
 into the woods. 
 
 One of the Romans tore strips from his tunic and the 
 wounded arm was bound so as to stop the bleeding. Then 
 the two who were unhurt lifted their dead comrade and guided 
 by Zatthu placed him in the shallow grave. Shobek and 
 
PART IV—-THE BROKEN HOPE 325 
 
 Zatthu stood by as the earth was placed over the body. All 
 thought of strife and enmity was banished by the solemnity 
 of the scene. 
 
 When the rude burial was completed, the three Romans 
 looked wonderingly at their conquerors, as if they would fain 
 see how these men of a despised race could overpower the 
 trained legionaries of Rome. Then with slow dogged steps 
 they took their unwilling course toward the copse on the side 
 of the mountain. 
 
326 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XII 
 
 ‘‘Where did you come from, Shobek?” inquired Zatthu, as 
 soon as it was apparent that the Romans would trouble them 
 no more. “If David or Gideon had suddenly appeared, I 
 should not have been more astounded.” 
 
 “Y will tell you when I have looked to those wounds of 
 yours. You are bleeding. Let me see how much you are 
 hurt.” 
 
 ‘Tt isn’t serious,” he said after a brief examination. ‘That 
 cut below the thigh will make you limp when you walk, and 
 that stab in the armpit would have been a nasty one had it 
 gone a little deeper. But I will dress both the hurts and 
 stop their bleeding.” 
 
 This was quickly done and the two then sat down beneath 
 the oak which had given Zatthu protection in his fray with 
 the three harassing assailants. 
 
 “My story is a simple one,” began Shobek in answer to the 
 question Zatthu had put to him. “I soon outran my pur- 
 suers — all but one. Him I faced and bore down upon with 
 all my might. He thrust savagely at me as I got within 
 arm’s length, but I knocked up his sword and sent him sprawl- 
 ing. Looking back as I ran on again, I saw him rise and 
 limp back toward his comrades. Then I hastened along, 
 passed the goatherd’s, reached the top of the mountain and 
 took the downward path. But having shaken off my pur- 
 suers, I veered off in the direction of the copse to see if I 
 could be of help to you. After a time I came to a point where 
 the trail I knew you must be following was visible just before 
 it passes into these woods. Passing along it at no very rapid 
 pace, I saw our three friends who have just parted from us 
 so unwillingly. That means mischief, I thought; and I clam- 
 bered rapidly down to the edge of the woods that I might 
 hurry through them and strike the trail. Soon the ring of 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 327 
 
 swords faintly struck my ear. The sound guided me and — 
 well, you know the rest.” 
 
 “TY know you reached me in the nick of time. Those fellows 
 were really playing with me, for they were sure they had me 
 at their mercy. If they had tried hard enough, they would 
 have had me down before you came. As to the one who lies 
 buried yonder, I got the better of him by stepping quickly to 
 one side just as he overtook me, and smiting my sword deep 
 into his shoulder close to the neck. I was just going to carry 
 him to the grave I had made when the other three bore down 
 upon me.” 
 
 “The one you killed, then, was a good way ahead of his 
 fellows?” 
 
 “Yes, he was the one who discovered us behind the rock last 
 night. I talked with him a little before he died. He must 
 have spied me and dashed off in pursuit.” 
 
 “And the other three, no doubt, were sent on by the decu- 
 rion after the first who got track of you was missed.” 
 
 ‘They must have missed the spy long since. I wonder if 
 they will find out what became of him.” 
 
 “TY hardly think it. They will think we have all escaped 
 and give up the search. A hundred years hence perhaps some 
 one will find the two skeletons in the cave and wonder how 
 they came there.” 
 
 “T am grieved at heart when I think of Kelita. He gave 
 his life for me. He was always faithful and true.” 
 
 *“Remember, he gave it gladly. It was for the cause. Every 
 true Hebrew would do the same. But we must not talk any 
 more. We must go on our way before your wounds are stiff. 
 The Romans may yet come after us again.” 
 
 “Shall we go to Gischaia?” 
 
 “We will go in that direction. Somewhere in these northern 
 hills of Galilee we must hide ourselves till this little storm is 
 spent. Perhaps some new place of shelter will show itself.” 
 
 They started forth, keeping a watchful eye on the path 
 
828. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 _ behind them and progressing slowly, for Zatthu’s wounded 
 leg made rapid motion painful. ‘The trail soon brought them 
 to a rough road along which they proceeded some two miles. 
 Finding a shady spot they rested several hours while the sun 
 was high and made a midday meal from the food they had 
 brought from the goatherd’s, but the last of which they now 
 consumed. ‘They had lost all fear of pursuit and saw no rea- 
 son for hurrying. 
 
 Late in the afternoon they resumed their journeying. ‘The 
 road they were following skirted the base of the mountain on 
 which they had had such a series of adventures and then 
 wound its way upward into the higher lands. When they 
 reached the point where they had to climb, their progress 
 became very slow. Though supported by his stalwart com- 
 rade Zatthu walked with much difficulty. 
 
 “‘We shall not reach Gischaia tonight,” said Shobek, after 
 they had mounted a short distance. “But no matter. I had 
 not expected it. The town is several miles away. We must 
 find shelter in some friendly hut like that of the goatherd.” 
 
 “These hills are wooded. We shall find no dwellings in 
 them.” 
 
 “Oh, yes, we shall. We shall come to open stretches where 
 the land is tilled and sheep and goats find pasture. It is hard 
 to walk with such an ugly wound. But courage! We have 
 been in worse straits than this.” 
 
 “YT do not mind the pain and I have no fears for myself. 
 I am only thinking how I bring trouble to my friends — and 
 all for nothing.” 
 
 “Drive all such thoughts away. Our cause is Jehovah’s. 
 Tt must win.” 
 
 They climbed on in silence. The sun was now very low. 
 Trees of a goodly size lined the road on either side and kept 
 it in deep shadow. Just as they made a sharp turn in it they 
 were confronted by three men who stepped out from the thick- 
 growing forest. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 329 
 
 “Stop,” said one of them, “and give up your money.” 
 
 ‘“What if we have none?” questioned Shobek. 
 
 “Then everything that’s worth money.” 
 
 ‘What if we choose to fight?” 3 
 
 “Your friend is lame. You are no match for three.” 
 
 “Be not too sure. I have laid low more than three, single- 
 handed.” 
 
 “But not more than ten.” 
 
 Thereupon the man gave a shrill whistle and his allies began 
 to emerge from the woods. The band mustered twelve in all — 
 every one of them unkempt, coarsely clad, with a sullen face 
 that bespoke a lawless mind and a burning sense of wrong. 
 
 “Now I think you’ll have no stomach for fighting,” said the 
 leader with a grim smile. 
 
 “No,” said Zatthu, “‘we have no wish to fight. Why should 
 men fight who are brothers in arms?” 
 
 “Brothers? What do you mean?” 
 
 “Would not Rome crucify you if it caught you?” 
 
 “Yes, and it would waste no time in doing it.” 
 
 “Tt would do the same to me and to this friend of mine.” 
 
 “Why? What have you done?” 
 
 “T have stirred up strife against Rome. We have both of 
 us killed Roman soldiers.” 
 
 “Ah, you are Zatthu then. Yes, I know you now,” said 
 the outlaw coming close and peering into Zatthu’s face. “We 
 have met before.” 
 
 “Yes, we have met before, for you are Barabbas.” 
 
 ‘You remember me then?” 
 
 “Yes, I placed you as soon as you spoke. I do not easily 
 forget a voice.” 
 
 ‘And you must bear in mind that our meeting brought me 
 and my friends nothing good. You took from me the plunder 
 that was within my grasp.” 
 
 “Yes, I kept you from doing one deed of violence. Have 
 you not done enough?” 
 
330 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Look at us and see,” said Barabbas with a grim laugh. 
 ‘““Would you say we were in the lap of plenty?” 
 
 Zatthu did not answer at once. He scrutinized the whole 
 band for a moment and then said, 
 
 “You look as if the life you led brought you little but 
 misery and want. Why not change it? If I raised the ban- 
 ner of insurrection, would you march under it?” 
 
 ‘‘Would it bring us spoil and plenty of it?” 
 
 “Perhaps; but it would bring you something better — 
 freedom. Speak, all of you! Do you not hate Rome?” 
 
 “Yes, yes,’’ came the answer, like a hoarse growl, from 
 every throat. 
 
 “Then let us make common cause against this hateful foe 
 that has taken our liberty away and would crucify us if it 
 got us in its cruel grasp.” 
 
 The men did not know how to answer this appeal but looked 
 to their leader. He shook his head and said, 
 
 “We'll fight Rome when we see you heading an army that 
 will drive these cursed Romans into the Dead Sea. Go and 
 raise it. By good rights you ought to hand over to me all 
 the money you’ve got and everything that’s worth money, 
 you did me and my fellows such an ill turn at the foot of 
 Carmel. But we won’t rob you. We have some feeling for a 
 man Rome wants to crucify. Go your way.” 
 
 “No, let us go your way. I cannot walk much farther, and 
 I want food and shelter for the night.” 
 
 “You talk of overthrowing Rome and you ask a band of 
 outlaws to take youin! That does not look to me like break- 
 ing the Roman power. But so be it. We’ll share what we 
 have with you; but we don’t sit down to a feast or sleep in a 
 palace. Come this way.” 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 331 
 
 XIII 
 
 Leaning on Shobek Zatthu limped painfully after Barabbas 
 and his crew as they took their course through the forest. 
 But the outlaws walked slowly out of regard to Zatthu’s con- 
 dition. ‘Two or three of them even offered to make him a 
 litter. But this he would not let them do. He knew he could 
 best win a place in their regard by making light of pain and 
 hardship. 
 
 In less than an hour they came to the lair of the robbers. | 
 It was an open space in the dense woodland growth, sur- 
 rounded by a screen of rocks and high up in the hills. Here 
 the men had built rude huts that protected them from inclem- 
 ent weather, and in one of these Zatthu was made as com- 
 fortable as this barren and primitive manner of living allowed. 
 Food of a coarse kind was not lacking. The outlaws were 
 expert hunters and brought in all manner of game. With 
 the money they wrested from unfortunate wayfarers they 
 bought grain from those who raised it and rudely ground it 
 themselves. It was a law with them not to rob and plunder 
 the poor. Those who tilled a scanty patch or raised a few 
 sheep and goats were exempt from their depredations. 
 
 Able to rest and relieved from immediate anxiety Zatthu 
 recovered from his hurts. Yet the recovery was slow. His 
 mind was not tranquil and his body was in a worn and feverish 
 state. Long hours he lay still and brooded over all that had 
 happened since the iron hand of Rome was laid on him in the 
 streets of Jerusalem. More than once he had been delivered, 
 miraculously delivered it would seem, from deadly peril. Did 
 this point to the protecting care of Israel’s God? It must 
 be so. And yet what had he really accomplished in these 
 weary months of waiting, hiding, darting from place to place 
 and uttering fervent appeals to a faint-hearted people? 
 
3382) ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Nothing; really nothing. ‘That was the bitter fact he had 
 to face. 
 
 His star, which to his own eager trustful vision had risen 
 brightly, was now very dim. The star of another was shining 
 with an ever growing lustre. Wherever he went he found 
 what was brought home to him so forcibly at Safed — Jesus 
 of Nazareth had won the people’s hearts. Had he been wholly 
 mistaken in his judgment of this man? Could it really be that 
 this friend of the publicans and the unclean, this worker of 
 cures through some strange art, this stealer of men’s hearts 
 through subtle speech, was Jehovah’s messenger to a down- 
 trodden people? He could not think it. He could not think 
 it. Yet Jesus of Nazareth’s power was growing daily while 
 his had become like a sapling leveled in a storm. 
 
 Thoughts like these sometimes rushed in upon him like a 
 tide. Made despondent, almost despairing, by them, he would 
 then let his mind dwell on the happy days he spent in the 
 home of Aristarchus. He felt the spell of Thisoa’s ardor, 
 Thisoa’s beauty, Thisoa’s charm. Feeling surged up in him 
 and swayed him mightily. It told him in peremptory com- 
 manding tones that he had chosen wrong. His own conceit 
 had misled him utterly. He had thought to be another Moses ; 
 he found himself only a common man. Not for him the 
 mighty deed and the acclaim of a triumphant people, but 
 only a quiet peaceful home. Yes, only a home, but what joy, 
 what ecstasy there was in that simple thought! There his 
 wife would be “as a fruitful vine,” his children would grow 
 up in the fear of Jehovah, and measureless blessing would 
 crown every passing year. There he would have such daily 
 companionship and such unfailing sympathy as the high- 
 spirited daughter of Aristarchus had given him day by day. 
 In such moods he longed for Thisoa with an agonized longing, 
 even as he had done when he looked forth from the hill crest 
 in the moonlight and saw the gleaming waters of Gennesaret. 
 
 But too entire had been his consecration to his lofty pur- 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 333 
 
 pose to be easily or quickly set aside. When these tides of 
 feeling mastered him they were again succeeded by states of 
 penitence in which he condemned himself unsparingly for los- 
 ing his faith in Jehovah and Jehovah’s cause. Self-reproach- 
 ful, he would then talk with Shobek, who was never wanting 
 in courage and calm confidence; and he mingled with the out- 
 laws and listened to their talk. From time to time, he found, 
 they shifted their place of refuge to avoid discovery. When 
 they attacked the caravan of Aristarchus their lair was on the 
 wooded slopes of Carmel. But prying bands of Roman sol- 
 diers forced them to find quarters elsewhere; and for some 
 time they had made this well-sheltered spot in northern Gali- 
 lee their vantage ground. 
 
 Zatthu studied them and lent a ready ear to their tales. 
 Their unwillingness to rob the poor he noted with approval. 
 For every sign that pointed to kindness and good feeling he 
 looked eagerly. For he was trying to persuade himself that 
 Jehovah himself had guided him to this band of outcasts. Ever 
 the thought of David and the cave of Adullam came to his 
 mind. There David gathered the needy, the broken and the 
 adventurous and made himself a captain over them. Was not 
 he, Zatthu, to turn these outcasts into followers of himself and 
 swell the little company into an army of patriots burning to 
 free Zion from the tyranny of Rome? He tried hard to think 
 so. He forced himself to think so. And then, when by sheer 
 persistency of will he had anchored himself in this conviction, 
 the thought of Thisoa would flood in overwhelmingly and he 
 would long for her in the very inmost of his soul. 
 
 Thus faith warred with feeling in a wearing, never ceasing 
 conflict. But the faith grew fainter and the feeling more 
 insurgent as the days went by. 
 
334. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 XIV 
 
 A whole month passed and still Zatthu lingered with the 
 outlaws. It was now the early part of Zif, the English May, 
 when the country was green from the spring rains and the 
 harvest fields were ripening. The freshness of the vegetation, 
 and the genial air of spring would have tempted Zatthu to be 
 active once again had his old-time zeal still glowed within him. 
 But its fire was so nearly dead that he preferred to spend his 
 time in talking with Barabbas and his followers instead of 
 planning how to renew his wonted activities. 
 
 With Barabbas he had many a long interview. He was 
 grateful to him for burying the past instead of exacting 
 vengeance for Zatthu’s interference in behalf of Aristarchus. 
 The man was not indeed hard to read. He had adopted with- 
 out any reserve or exceptions the outlaw’s code. With the 
 social and political order he was at war. Deep in his mind 
 was the conviction which in every civilized land has turned 
 men into criminals — the conviction that the state owes the 
 individual a generous subsistence, but the individual owes 
 nothing to the state. This idea well fixed, the natural thing 
 is for the individual to help himself if the state will not live 
 up to its obligation. So feeling and so thinking, Barabbas 
 was proceeding to help himself; but he did so without rancor 
 or vindictiveness. Beneath his surliness was a rough kindli- 
 ness that made him befriend the poor and sometimes even pity 
 the men he robbed. “This man,” thought Zatthu, “‘would 
 have cleaved to King David and respected him for cutting off 
 his sovereign’s skirt instead of killing him when he was sleep- 
 ing in the cave.” 
 
 More interesting were others of the outlaw band whose 
 natures were more complex and whose minds were not so easily 
 fathomed. ‘There was Amok, dubbed ‘“‘the Smiler” by his 
 comrades, who made a jest of everything and kept the whole 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 335 
 
 crew in laughter. Was there any serious vein below this light- 
 heartedness? Zatthu thought there was and after many 
 talks with the fellow he felt sure that he had found it. Again 
 there was Zichri the taciturn, known as “Tight-shut,” whom 
 he had to labor much with to get him to speak at all. But he 
 did at last draw him out and he satisfied himself that there 
 was in him a sense of loyalty which would make him go 
 through pain and want rather than betray a comrade, and 
 which could, in a great national uprising, be kindled into 
 loyalty to the state. And then, most interesting of all, there 
 was the churlish, fierce and truculent Mispereth, not inaptly 
 called Beelzebub. For this man’s appearance was as forbid- 
 ding as his speech, and his speech was always vituperative 
 and harsh. He had a low brow, a cruel cunning eye, and fea- 
 tures that were coarse and repulsive even through his heavy 
 beard. When a foray was planned, Mispereth demanded with 
 many oaths that no mercy should be shown to the victims of 
 their raid however defenceless they might be. When they re- 
 turned, he gloated over the gains if they were large and 
 cursed those who had been robbed if their possessions had 
 been scanty and unsatisfying. Once, after a man had been 
 killed for resisting, and some who had been concerned in the 
 foul deed had expressed a mild regret, Mispereth accused 
 them of cowardice and expressed a savage delight in the atro- 
 cious murder. 
 
 It was Zatthu’s belief that even in this man there existed 
 some spark of human feeling. He could not be wholly and 
 absolutely vile. Long he worked to see the spark glimmer 
 and to kindle it into a glow. And at last he found it. Mis- 
 pereth really had a tender feeling for children. This Zatthu 
 discovered with great difficulty, for it was far from easy to 
 make him talk. But he persisted in seeking him out and ques- 
 tioning him so freely that the man could not help responding, 
 however grudgingly; and finally he elicited from him com- 
 ments that showed the one soft spot in his stony nature. 
 
386 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 And the feeling, so hard to discern, found expression one day 
 when the band returned from a successful but happily a blood- 
 less expedition. As the assault upon a small party of way- 
 farers was discussed, Mispereth said: “I’d have stabbed that 
 fellow that struggled so hard if it had not been for that boy 
 of his. But I didn’t want to make the little chap cry.” 
 
 Having become more of a student of men than a reforming 
 zealot, Zatthu spent many hours in this savage man’s com- 
 pany. Sometimes the man was very gruff and repellant. 
 Sometimes he seemed to melt a little and to show a liking for 
 a human intercourse such as he had certainly never had before. 
 Little by little, Zatthu flattered himself, he was finding a way 
 to his heart. 
 
 One night after he had spent a little more than a month 
 with these strange associates, he was wakened from sleep a 
 little after midnight by Shobek. The two had for their own 
 shelter a small hut which Shobek had himself constructed and 
 which was a little more impervious to wind and rain than the 
 lodgings put together by the outlaws. As only they two were 
 in it, they could speak in low tones and move about quietly 
 without attracting attention. 
 
 “Wake up,” said Shobek in a whisper as he shook Zatthu 
 lightly. “Wake up, but make no noise. We are in danger.” 
 
 Zatthu was wide awake and alert in an instant. 
 
 ‘“What is wrong?” he whispered. 
 
 “These men whom you have been trying to make friends of 
 are going to betray you. You know I have warned you a 
 good many times that they could not be trusted.” 
 
 “T know you have, but I felt sure I was getting their liking. 
 Are they all turning against me?” 
 
 “Not all. Enough to carry out their plan.” 
 
 ‘“Who’s hatched the plan? Barabbas?” 
 
 “No, Mispereth. I don’t belieye Barabbas himself knows 
 of it or would fall in with it.” 
 
 ‘But they could carry it through in spite of him?” 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 337 
 
 BS egic” 
 
 *“How do you know?” 
 
 “TY have been watching Mispereth and growing more and 
 more suspicious of him for several days. He has been much 
 with some of the worst of this crew and I was sure they were 
 plotting something. After dark tonight I crept back of the 
 hut that Mispereth and his two special comrades sleep in. It 
 is full of cracks and holes like all these shanties. I put my 
 ear to a small opening and listened. Their talk was alarm- 
 ing, I can assure you; but it grew more so. Five more of the 
 crew came to the hut, one by one. When they were all there, 
 the plan was talked over bit by bit. As they don’t want a 
 fight, they are going to come here in the early morning and 
 overpower both of us before we are fully roused and bind us 
 fast. Then they will take us to some Roman post, and get the 
 reward that has been offered for us both.” 
 
 “But Rome wants them, too. They would be seized and 
 put to death.” 
 
 “They will be too cunning. They know their danger and 
 will not put themselves in the power of Rome without making 
 sure that their crimes will be forgiven because of the captives 
 they deliver up. I think they mean to take us to Capernaum. 
 Marcus has such a name for honor and fair dealing that they 
 would trust him to stand by any word he gave them.” 
 
 “Well, let them carry out their plan. Perhaps the best 
 thing that could happen to you and me would be to fall into 
 the hands of Marcus.” 
 
 “No! That must not be. I am ready to meet any death 
 that may come to me from being true to the cause. But it is 
 foolish to throw life away. Marcus is generous and merciful. 
 He may have influence with Pilate. But he is a Roman 
 officer, and even though he saved us from crucifixion he could 
 not save us from death.” 
 
 “The heart is gone out of me, Shobek. Now that these 
 men whom I thought I had made friends of have turned 
 
38388 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 against me, I feel ready to die. I wish you would save your- 
 self and leave me here.” 
 
 “Why talk so foolishly? You know I would not do that.” 
 
 “Yes, I know it. You are as faithful as Jonathan was to 
 David. You won’t desert me, so I must follow you. I see 
 there is no other way. Well, what shall we do? How can we 
 get away?” ! 
 
 “IT have got it all arranged. I would not dare to steal out 
 by the path through the opening in this circle of rock. They 
 may be on the watch for us. I think it likely they have their 
 eyes on this little dwelling of ours even now to make sure we 
 have not in some way got wind of their plan and foiled it. 
 But foil it we will. I have fixed some of the timbers on the 
 back side of the hut, which almost leans against the cliff, so 
 that they can be moved aside without any noise. We will 
 creep out through the opening I make and scale the cliff. 
 That won’t be difficult. You will find a cord hanging fast to 
 a tree near the edge of the rock.” 
 
 **When did you do that?” 
 
 “An hour ago. But there’s no need to say anything more 
 now. It is time to act.” 
 
 The preparations for departure were quickly made. They 
 had to be simple for two who were living with almost the sim- 
 plicity of savages. When they were ready, Shobek carefully 
 and noiselessly pushed the rough-hewn logs aside and he and 
 Zatthu crept out under the open sky. It was very dark; no 
 stars were shining; they had little fear of being seen. Sho- 
 bek helped Zatthu to find the rope and compelled him to mount 
 up first. The ascent successfully made, Shobek followed him. 
 Reaching the edge of the cliff, which was some twenty cubits 
 high, he stopped and listened. Not a sound was to be heard. 
 The escape had so far been effected without creating any 
 alarm. The cord was drawn up and unfastened that it might 
 be of avail in future emergencies, and they were ready to 
 plunge into the depths of the forest. 
 
PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 339 
 
 “Which way shall we go?” asked Zatthu whose despondent 
 mood made him glad to leave the direction of their wandering 
 to his companion. 
 
 “T think to Jotapata,” was Shobek’s answer. “It’s a popu- 
 lous town with its two score thousands; and there are times 
 when one can hide best in a crowd. So we will turn our steps 
 in that direction; but we need not hurry. It will be three 
 hours or so before those scoundrels find that they have lost 
 their chance to claim the reward that was so tempting to 
 them.” 
 
 “Tell me one thing more, Shobek. Were Amok and Zichri 
 among those who were going to deliver me up to Rome?” 
 
 “Yes, both of them. I should not have told you if you had 
 not asked me; but they were in the plot.” 
 
 Zatthu said nothing. With a heavy heart he looked down 
 on the spot, now nothing but a mass of gloom, which had at 
 once given him shelter and all but wrought his doom. Then 
 he turned and followed Shobek into the forest blackness. His 
 tread was heavy. Despair was in his soul. He felt that in 
 turning from this den of thieves he was saying goodbye to 
 the cause to which he had pledged a measureless devotion. 
 Everything had failed. As avery last resource he had come to 
 a Cave of Adullam; and that had failed. Jehovah had not 
 counted him worthy to redeem his afflicted people. 
 
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 WAITING 
 
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PART V—WAITING 343 
 
 I 
 
 Less than a month after Zatthu and Shobek made their 
 midnight flitting from Barabbas’ lair, Thisoa one afternoon 
 received from Nicon the intelligence that a visitor had 
 appeared. : 
 
 The intelligence was not unwelcome. Except for the ser- 
 vants she was alone in the house. Her father and mother had 
 gone to Tiberias, further down on the lake shore, for a three 
 days’ visit with friends living there. She was missing them 
 much and the roll of the Fifth Book of the Iliad, with which 
 she was trying to entertain herself as she sat in the atrium 
 by the plashing waters of the fountain, awakened but a lan- 
 guid interest. Her thought was far away in the Galilean hills. 
 
 “Who is it, Nicon?” she inquired. 
 
 “One whom I think you will be pleased to see,” answered 
 Nicon with an old servitor’s freedom. “It is the big Hebrew, 
 Shobek.” 
 
 ““Shobek,” she exclaimed, her dullness of spirit instantly 
 replaced by a joyous anticipation. ‘Bring him in here at 
 once.” 
 
 Nicon withdrew, in a slightly wondering mood. He could 
 not read the mind of his young mistress and know that she 
 wanted to hear news of Zatthu there in the very spot where 
 he had more than once sat by her side and shared his thought 
 with her. Shobek had been in the house but once before, but 
 he was not to be met formally in the room where strangers 
 were received. 
 
 Thisoa’s face beamed as she greeted him. | 
 
 “Flow good you are to come to us again,” she said, ‘This 
 time I hope it is good news you bring — but no! As I look 
 at you and see how grave you are, I fear something is amiss. 
 Pray seat yourself at once and tell me all.” 
 
344 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “T have reason to be grave,” said Shobek, very solemnly 
 and slowly. “There is much amiss.” 
 
 “Tell me all and waste no words. I must know the truth.” 
 
 “Zatthu is very, very ill.” 
 
 *““EKven to death?” 
 
 “Yes, even to death. I left him very low this morning. 
 Even now he may not be alive.” 
 
 “There was no hope whatever when you left him?” 
 
 “No hope. No, it grieves me to say it, but there was abso- 
 lutely none.” 
 
 Thisoa was too sorely stricken to speak at once. Her 
 breath came in gasps and her face was white. Shobek under- 
 stood and respected her mood. With eyes downcast he waited 
 for her to speak. Presently she said faintly, 
 
 “Did you leave him with Kelitar” 
 
 “Alas! Kelita was killed in saving Zatthu and myself two 
 months ago.” 
 
 Again there was a brief silence. Then Thisoa found 
 strength to say, 
 
 ‘“You must tell me the story, but tell it quickly. Zatthu 
 shall not die. He must and shall be saved. But first I must 
 know what has happened and why he lies so near to death.” 
 
 Shobek therefore straightway began his story. Realizing 
 himself that he must omit much more than he told, he briefly 
 pictured the life he and his two friends had been living; how 
 they had roamed over the hills of Palestine from north to 
 south; how they had been hunted and harried and more than 
 once had only escaped capture through Kelita’s vigilance and 
 subtle sense of danger; how the spy had been ever on their 
 tracks and had at last forced them to seek refuge in the 
 cavernous passage where Kelita had met his death; how he, 
 Shobek, and Zatthu had then eluded pursuit by consorting 
 with Barabbas and his band of outlaws; and how even that 
 hiding-place had failed them’ and Zatthu had left it utterly 
 broken in spirit. 
 
PART V—WAITING 345 
 
 “Yes, the heart had gone out of him,” said Shobek, as he 
 brought his narrative to its close. ‘‘When I got him safely 
 out of that den and led him to Jotapata, he was like one walk- 
 ing in a dream. The night was dark. The mountain trail 
 was rough and steep. He stepped carelessly, fell headlong 
 after we had been journeying an hour or more, and cut his 
 arm upon a jagged stone. He made light of the hurt. In the 
 dark I did not realize how bad it was and did not stop to dress 
 it, thinking it best to reach Jotapata as soon as possible. 
 But when daylight came and we were still some distance from 
 the city, I found that he was very weak and faint from the 
 loss of blood, and we made those last few miles with difficulty. 
 
 “At Jotapata we found lodging with a friend of mine. A 
 leach was summoned and Zatthu had the best of care. But 
 in spite of it he grew steadily worse. A high fever set in and 
 seemed to run like fire all through his veins and to poison his 
 whole system. ‘It isn’t the wound, it’s his crushed and broken 
 spirit,’ the leach has said more than once as he looked at him 
 sadly. And that I amsureis true. The people have not been 
 willing to follow him. He feels that he has failed. So he 
 wants to die. For the last two days he had been delirious, and 
 this morning, as I said at first, the end was plainly near. 
 The leach said he had only a few hours to live. And so I 
 came to tell you and your father and mother who were so 
 kind to him. I really had to come, for ... for... I don’t 
 quite know how to say it, and yet I must — in his delirium he 
 says one word over and over again, and that is your name.” 
 
 Had Shobek looked at Thisoa as he said this, he would have 
 seen the color come into her face which had been like marble. 
 But he only heard her say, instantly and very quietly, 
 
 “Yes, Shobek, you did right to come. I wish you had come 
 before. But it is not too late. Zatthu must live. There is 
 one who can save him from death even now. Do you not know 
 who that is?” 
 
346 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Do you mean Jesus of Nazareth?” said Shobek, looking 
 at Thisoa inquiringly. 
 
 “Yes. He, and only he, can do it.” 
 
 “But ... I ought not perhaps to discourage you,” said 
 Shobek hesitatingly, “but it may be too late. I wish indeed I 
 had come before. Zatthu may not be living even now.” 
 
 “IT feel that he is. Even if he is not, I still believe that 
 Jesus of Nazareth can restore him. I have known him to give 
 life to one who had ceased to breathe.” 
 
 ‘““How strange if he brings Zatthu back to life and health,” 
 said Shobek thoughtfully. ‘For it is this same Jesus who has 
 brought him so low. Everywhere did he find that this car- 
 penter’s son had filled the minds of the people. They would 
 not warm to his words because Jesus had healed their dis- 
 eases and won their hearts. His pride will be wounded beyond 
 cure if he owes his very life to this man who has been the ruin 
 of his hope.” 
 
 “Not beyond cure, Shobek. But what he will feel we can- 
 not think of now. We must act and act without another 
 moment’s delay. My father and mother are away, as Nicon 
 I know has told you. I have to turn to you for help in this 
 great need. And for Zatthu’s sake I know you will do every 
 thing you can and do it gladly. Go and learn at once where 
 Jesus is. Then come back here and take me to him. I must 
 seek him wherever he is. But, oh, I hope he’s not far away. 
 Yet, stay! You too are hunted by Rome. You might be recog- 
 nized and seized. That would be terrible! You will have to 
 remain here in concealment and let Nicon do all that must be 
 done.” | 
 
 “No, I cannot let any one but myself be the means of saving 
 Zatthu. I will go this moment and find out where Jesus is and 
 then I will take you to him. Jehovah will be my keeper. Have 
 no fear. I have none.” 
 
 Before Thisoa could answer, Shobek had turned and walked 
 
 away from her and in a moment he was out of the house. 
 
PART V—WAITING 347 
 
 Strengthened by his trust Thisoa immediately made her 
 preparations for an expedition the extent of which she could 
 not even conjecture. Jesus, she knew, went in many direc- 
 tions from Capernaum. He traversed all Galilee. He went 
 south as far as Jerusalem. He sometimes crossed Gennesaret 
 and tarried in the country beyond. Wherever he was, he must 
 be sought and found. 
 
 First of all she summoned Nicon and said to him, 
 
 “Nicon, I am shortly to leave the house and with the help 
 of Shobek find Jesus of Nazareth. Shobek will be a strong 
 protector; but it is possible that the Romans may lay hold of 
 him; so it is best that you should go too. Make no objec- 
 tions, even in your mind. I am doing this to save the life of 
 Zatthu. My father would wish it to be done, for he made a 
 guest-friend of this brave Hebrew who has been brought near 
 to death through trying to free his country from the Romans. 
 I do not know where Jesus is. It may require a journey of a 
 day or more to reach him. But Shobek will soon bring me 
 word and then we must start at once. Be sure then and have 
 everything in readiness when the moment comes — horses and 
 whatever else may be needed.” 
 
 The command was an extraordinary one, but there was no 
 question in Nicon’s mind as to whether it should be executed. 
 More than once he had seen this imperious girl rule the entire 
 household, as she did when she baffled Marcus’ search for this 
 same Zatthu whose life seemed now to be at stake. So with- 
 out any resistance or hesitation he replied, 
 
 “Tt shall be done,” and forthwith he set about his task. 
 
 Thisoa then sought the woman, Keturah by name, who was — 
 her own personal attendant and gave her corresponding in- 
 structions. ‘The two made the necessary preparations, and 
 were still busy with them when, ere a full half-hour had 
 elapsed, Shobek appeared again. 
 
 “Jesus is on the other side of the lake,’ was the word he 
 brought. ‘‘Many of the fishers have already come in. We 
 
848. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 can easily find one of them to take us across. Let us go down 
 to the shore at once.” 
 
 It was joyous news to Thisoa that the great healer was no 
 farther distant. Without any delay she started for the lake- 
 side with Shobek, Nicon and Keturah. 
 

 
 PART V— WAITING 349 
 
 II 
 The Lake of Gennesaret, or Sea of Galilee, is a deep broad 
 
 basin of the river Jordan which courses through it from north 
 to south. Its whole expanse is not greater than that of a 
 large modern city, its extreme length being only thirteen 
 miles. Picturesque hills engirdle it, but their slopes have lost 
 their fertility. On its shores are only a few thinly populated 
 towns today. 
 
 A far different scene it presented in the days when the 
 Saviour of men walked upon its waters and quieted its angry 
 waves. Then thriving villages that in some cases attained the 
 dignity of cities were scattered along its margin; and their 
 teeming populations found an easy subsistence from the soil. 
 The lake also yielded fish so abundantly that then, as is the 
 case now indeed, it gave men steady occupation day by day. 
 
 But the eastern shore, for some point on which Thisoa was 
 to set sail from Capernaum, was less cultivated, less thickly 
 inhabited, and less used as a fishermen’s haven than was that 
 on the western side. Only two villages of any note, Gergesa 
 and Gamala, looked across the lake to the better known com- 
 munities upon its eastern edge. And just because this region 
 was less frequented, Jesus now and then resorted there to 
 escape the multitudes that thronged about him. So unem- 
 bellished are the Gospel narratives, so naked in their state- 
 ments of bare facts, that only by careful reading do we see 
 what a ferment he created throughout Galilee. The people 
 would not let him alone. They hung upon his words. They 
 watched his comings and his goings. They lay in wait for 
 him everywhere; when they found him, they were not willing 
 to lose him out of their sight. So to get relief from this wear- 
 ing devotion, which had its roots at once in curiosity and in 
 reverence, he was forced sometimes to seek such solitude as 
 
350 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 might be found. And yet when he crossed to the eastern shore 
 of the lake they sometimes followed him there. 
 
 Had they done so now? Before they went down to the 
 water’s edge Thisoa and her little company looked forth to 
 see if they could descry any unusual gathering of boats upon 
 the eastern shore. For its outline could be clearly discerned 
 across the expanse of the lake. Gergesa was but a few miles 
 away. A flotilla of crafts, moored in front of it or at any 
 point near by, could easily have been made out. But no such 
 assemblage was to be seen. They must make for some point 
 and inquire. A fisherman ready to embark with them was 
 easily found. To Gergesa, as the nearest of the two villages 
 on the farther side, they directed their course. 
 
 The sun was two hours high when they started. Using oar 
 and sail they made good headway and had landed in front of 
 the town while the red disk, soon to disappear, was still above 
 the western hills. In the village there was quiet. If Jesus 
 was in the neighborhood, his movements had not this time 
 been noted by the crowds. 
 
 And this proved to be the case. By good chance Shobek 
 had in Capernaum come across one who knew what the many 
 had not found out. He had been correctly informed. Jesus 
 was on the eastern shore and he was not far from Gergesa. 
 By inquiry it was learned that Jesus and his small company 
 of faithful followers were on the hillside above the town. He 
 had spoken to the people and sent them away. Then with his 
 disciples he had sought retirement. 
 
 Up the hillside in quest of him they went eagerly, Shobek 
 leading the way. With as rapid and untiring a step went 
 Thisoa. The fervor of her spirit sustained her; unlike most 
 girls of the orient, she had lived much in the open. Exercise 
 was a pleasure to her and she did not easily tire. So fast 
 indeed did she and Shobek climb that Nicon and Keturah. 
 could not keep up with them and lagged a little behind, the 
 
PART V—WAITING 351 
 
 elderly servant having to adapt his pace to that of the maid 
 who had not her mistress’ vigorous and elastic step. 
 
 The hill they were ascending was some five hundred feet 
 high and was a spur of the range that skirts the eastern shore 
 of Gennesaret. When they had mounted half way they came 
 suddenly upon a group of men who were sitting and standing 
 on a shelving piece of ground that had hid them from view. 
 Twelve of them there were altogether, some talking quietly 
 and some looking out on the lake and the hills beyond. Most 
 of them showed little surprise or interest at the sudden ap- 
 pearance of Shobek and Thisoa among them. Was not all 
 the world going after Jesus of Nazareth? That he should be 
 sought even in this out-of-the-way spot was nothing strange. 
 Yet one of them came forward to accost them, prompted as 
 he soon made plain by a desire to protect his master even 
 more than by love of service. 
 
 “What is your wish?” he asked, as he looked at them with 
 passing interest and then glanced at Nicon and Keturah who 
 now joined them. 
 
 Shobek started to answer the inquiry, but Thisoa’s ardor 
 was too great to allow any one to speak for her. 
 
 “We have come to see Jesus. Is he not here?” she said. 
 
 “He is not far away,” was the answer that seemed to be 
 grudgingly given. 
 
 “Pray show me to him at once, then.” 
 
 ‘“No, I could not do that.” 
 
 “Oh, but you must. I have come all the way from Ca- 
 pernaum to find him.” 
 
 “But he sought this side of the lake because all the people 
 in Galilee are seeking him. He is worn and tired from seeing 
 so many. You must not trouble him.” 
 
 This was said with a frown, and the strong harsh features 
 of the speaker seemed to grow harsher as he spoke. He was 
 a rough man, plainly clad as were all the members of the 
 group. Yet the face showed a rugged sincerity, and in the 
 
352. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 attitude and the whole bearing there bespoke a native force 
 that could be kindled into great achievement. Still undaunted 
 and believing that every follower of the wondrous healer must 
 have a gentle heart, Thisoa replied, 
 
 “But he is so kind that I thought he was never troubled by 
 those who were in distress and I have come to ask him to heal 
 a dying man.” 
 
 “You are quite right,” said another of the group who had 
 also come forward and had been listening to all that was said. 
 “Our master is never troubled by those who ask for healing. 
 Peter, I must show this woman where Jesus can be seen.” 
 
 “But he strictly charged us not to seek him, but to wait 
 here till he joined us, however long that might be. Some- 
 times,” he added, turning to Thisoa as if to excuse his own 
 resistance to her entreaty, “he spends all night upon the hills, 
 where no one but the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob 
 can be his witness.” 
 
 ‘Nor shall we go near him or disturb him,” said Peter’s 
 companion. “But I will go a few steps with this woman and 
 show her how she can herself approach him. Have no fear,” 
 he said to her. “He will be gracious unto you.” 
 
 Peter shrugged his shoulders and said with a manifest tinge 
 of jealousy, 
 
 “You always claim to understand him better than the rest 
 of us, John.” 
 
 But he offered no further objections, and with this kindly 
 follower of Jesus who had shown such a ready sympathy 
 Thisoa went further up the hillside. Her whole heart set on 
 finding the great healer and telling him her sore need, she yet 
 could not help looking with wonder on the man who walked 
 at her side. She had never seen a face like his. Its gentle- 
 ness spoke directly to the heart. The eye was tender and 
 compassionate. The voice was soft and mild. Yet here she 
 felt was a great strength. It was the strength of a nature 
 that loved good and would cleave to it through suffering and 
 
PART V—WAITING 353 
 
 trial. How easily had the sturdy Peter been overruled by 
 this man’s gentle insistence! Was it men like him who were to 
 bring in a new day for the Hebrew nation under the lead of 
 the healer from Nazareth? 
 
 The two did not ascend directly upward but followed a 
 path that wound across the hillside. Not more than a few 
 hundred steps had they taken when Thisoa’s guide stopped 
 her and directed her gaze upward. As she looked where he 
 pointed her eyes rested on the crest of the hill, and she saw 
 there the figure of a man outlined against the sky. Looking 
 rather than speaking her gratitude, she hastened to complete 
 her climb, while the man who had befriended her turned and 
 went in the direction of his comrades. 
 
 So rapidly did Thisoa climb that she reached the hill crest 
 breathless. She paused therefore for a moment to gain power 
 of speech. Not yet was her presence known. So steep was 
 the ascent in the front that faced Gennesaret that she had 
 made her approach from the side. The man she had sought 
 with such perfect faith was half turned from her. He was 
 looking across Gennesaret and the sun was sending its last 
 rays full upon his face. Indeed, the whole figure was flooded 
 with the crimson light as with a glory. Thisoa was filled with 
 awe as she beheld. Who was this man who stood gazing with 
 rapt vision into the western sky? Had he been raised up by 
 the Hebrews’ God to purge the whole earth of evil? Was that 
 God whom they so reverently worshipped in very truth the 
 creator of the earth and all its children? And was this man 
 now holding communion with Him and peering into that mys- 
 terious world from which he had called little Naomi back to 
 life? | 
 
 As Thisoa gazed a feeling of shrinking and dread came 
 over her. This presence was too holy and sacred to be dis- 
 turbed. Jesus had wished to be alone. He was hearing mes- 
 sages from heaven; it was not for her to interrupt them with 
 her human voice. But while she stood awed and silent Jesus 
 
354 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 grew aware that she was near and turned toward her. His 
 face was in full view and it shone. It shone with a light that 
 was not of earth. As she beheld it she was seized with dis- 
 may. How would he rebuke her for thus intruding upon a 
 solitude which no human eyes should have seen! 
 
 He came towards her and the transfiguring light faded 
 from his countenance, but it was not succeeded by a frown. 
 The eyes that met hers expressed such a depth of tenderness 
 that a flood of emotion rushed over her spirit. She fell at the 
 feet of Jesus and sobbed convulsively. Immediately a hand 
 was placed gently upon her head and a wonderful calm stole 
 over her whole frame. She was able to speak, but it was only 
 a few brief words that she said. She did not need to tell her 
 story. She did not need to name any names. Jesus knew all 
 things. He understood. Still kneeling she raised her arms 
 imploringly, looked up and cried, 
 
 “Oh, save him! He is nigh to death.” 
 
 And now the eyes that had gazed into hers looked far away. 
 Their expression was deeply serious, almost troubled. The 
 figure that had stood so calmly majestic before her now 
 seemed to breathe forth effort and will. ‘Thisoa watched 
 breathlessly. Had she asked too much? Was Zatthu no 
 longer living? Or was he so fayaway that the healing current 
 could not flow into him as it had flowed into Marcus’ servant 
 Hacho? But she was not long in suspense. Quickly that 
 wonderful look of a more than human compassion returned 
 to the face of Jesus. With his hand he signed to her that she 
 was to arise and said, 
 
 “He is healed.” 
 
 Thisoa said nothing. Words seemed meaningless. And 
 they were not needed. Not gratitude merely, but joy, deep 
 transporting joy showed in her face. With an answering 
 expression which showed that he understood, Jesus turned 
 from her and went again to the place whence he had gazed 
 across the lake to the Galilean hills. For a moment Thisoa 
 
PART V—WAITING 355 
 
 watched him and then made her way slowly down the slope. 
 Eager as she was to impart the joyful news, she could not 
 hurry from a spot where she had seen what would always 
 speak to the deep places of her spirit. 
 
 Before she found her companions and the group of fol- 
 lowers, she met the kindly guide who had been waiting for her. 
 
 ‘Was he not gracious to you?” he inquired. 
 
 “He was more than gracious; he was tender and kind 
 beyond words. But who is he? What is he? I am filled with 
 wonder and awe. How can any man be what he is?” 
 
 John did not answer her at once.. Thoughtfully he walked 
 a few paces at her side and then said, 
 
 “TI cannot tell you. I am filled with wonder too. We must 
 wait and see. Greater things may be done than have ever yet 
 been done, for there is one among us who is greater than any 
 who have been.” 
 
 The glad tidings were quickly made known and the four 
 then hastened to the lake shore. The voyage home was 
 quickly and comfortably made as the wind was favoring. It 
 was quite early in the evening when they reached Thisoa’s 
 home. Here Shobek bade them goodbye and set out for 
 Jotapata, resisting the most urgent entreaties that he spend 
 the night under the roof of Aristarchus and make his journey 
 by daylight. | 
 
 “IT cannot wait,” he said. “I must go at once to Zatthu 
 and tell him why it is that he has risen from his bed well and 
 strong; for so I am sure I shall find him.” 
 
 “Yes, I too am sure that you will find him so,” said Thisoa. 
 ‘And yet, we should all be so glad to be made certain.” 
 
 “You shall be made certain. I promise you that,” answered 
 Shobek; and then at a brisk pace he started on his way. 
 
356 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Iil 
 
 Three days later Zatthu himself appeared at the house of 
 Aristarchus. He came in the evening and was warmly greeted 
 by the kind hearted Greek merchant who had returned from 
 Tiberias with Xenodice. 
 
 ‘“‘Welcome, welcome, my friend! Thrice welcome!” cried 
 Aristarchus. ‘Your visits are so infrequent that it is a real 
 joy to see you. And,” he could not forbear adding in a spirit 
 of mischief, “you bring so much life and stir into the house 
 that you are sure to be a very entertaining guest.” 
 
 It was only the faintest smile that Zatthu gave in answer 
 to this pleasantry. His manner was very subdued. Well and 
 vigorous though he plainly was, he seemed crushed and broken 
 In spirit. 
 
 “T trust,” he replied, “that the kind of life and stir I 
 brought with me before will not follow me this time. I should 
 not have showed myself here if I had thought I could cause 
 you further annoyance and anxiety. But I came as you see 
 in the dark. I shall go away as soon as I have told your 
 daughter that I know how much I owe to her. I beg leave to 
 tell her that. I hardly wish to thank her. It would have 
 been better perhaps to let me die.” 
 
 “My good friend,” said the Greek placing his hand kindly 
 on his visitor’s shoulder, “‘you make me think of a boy com- 
 rade of mine who was nearly drowned. We got him out of the 
 water just in time. Then we rolled him and pounded him and 
 pinched him till he opened his eyes. But he felt so weak and 
 sick that instead of thanking us, he only gasped out with a 
 weak faint voice: ‘Why didn’t you let me drown?’ Here are 
 you — a man that has escaped from prison, slipped out of 
 the hands of the Romans at midnight from this very house, 
 foiled them through long months while they chased you all 
 over the hills of Galilee, been sore wounded and sick almost to 
 
PART V—WAITING 357 
 
 death, and yet restored to perfect health and strength — for 
 I see you are that — and now you say you ought to have died! 
 A man that has been through what you have has only just 
 begun to live. You have great things to do. Go on and do 
 them.” 
 
 “No,” said Zatthu, shaking his head sadly. “I have noth- 
 ing to do. : That is what troubles me. It is that that I want 
 to make plain to you and your wife and daughter who have 
 been such good friends to me.” 
 
 “And you shall do so, and right away. I will tell them you 
 are here. They will be anxious to hear your story.” 
 
 Aristarchus was gone but a moment. Returning he said, 
 
 “You shall unburden your mind in the room where you 
 thrilled us by the wonderful account of your escape from the 
 prison at Cesarea. My wife and daughter are eagerly await- 
 ing you there. Come with me.” 
 
 The greeting of Xenodice and Thisoa was as warm as 
 Zatthu could have wished; but what deep delight it gave 
 Thisoa to see him again he did not know. The very intensity 
 of her feelings made her manner restrained, cordial and hearty 
 though her words of welcome were. And little indeed was 
 said by way of ceremony. Hardly was Zatthu seated when 
 Aristarchus bade him satisfy their curiosity and their deep 
 friendly interest by letting them know just what happened 
 after Shobek had come to the house to announce that he was 
 near his end. ‘ 
 
 “‘Shobek was right,” Zatthu began at once. ‘The morning 
 he left me I was unconscious. I had been unconscious most 
 of the time for some three days. The spark of life was nearly 
 extinguished in me. The spirit that would keep it alive was 
 wholly gone. I had failed, utterly failed in my cherished 
 purpose. Life had nothing left for me and I did not want to 
 live. Late in the afternoon I came to myself and I knew it 
 was the last opening of my eyes upon the world before they 
 were closed to it forever. I was glad to leave it, but I was 
 
358 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 glad too that I could look out on it once more and bid it good- 
 bye. ‘Through the window in my room I could gaze upon the 
 hills lying to the west of the city and see the sunlight on them. 
 The sun was shining very brightly. I was pleased that it was 
 so. I said to myself that Jehovah was good to let me pass 
 from the world while it wore a smile. 
 
 *“‘Peacefully I lay there for a while, but growing weaker all 
 the time. At last I closed my eyes, or rather they closed of 
 themselves, and I knew that the end was very near. Yet I had 
 not quite lost consciousness and when the faithful woman 
 who had tended me all through my illness and who could not 
 believe I was dying leaned over me with tender solicitude and 
 asked if there was nothing she could do for me, I was able to. 
 murmur, 
 
 ** ‘Nothing. Goodbye.’ 
 
 “And just at that moment I felt a thrill run through my 
 frame. It was as if the dying spark of life had been suddenly 
 fanned into a glow and was sending a surge of fire into every 
 part of me. So mighty was this rush of life and strength 
 that my worn exhausted body could not passively receive it. 
 It seemed to resist the force that came flooding in and I suf- 
 fered much in this strange conflict between death and life. 
 But life conquered. Its tide could not be stayed. Even be- 
 fore I could take in what was happening I found myself a 
 new man. In amazement I sat up in bed. I felt of myself 
 and moved my limbs. All my weakness was gone and _I stood 
 on my feet and walked about the room. 
 
 ‘With more than astonishment, with terror even, my faith- 
 ful Deborah had watched this strange and seemingly impos- 
 sible activity of mine. How could a man who had been almost 
 too weak to say a last word of farewell before death seized 
 him suddenly rise from his bed and walk? She thought it 
 must be my spirit that she was looking upon and she shrank 
 away from me, opening her mouth to speak and yet too dumb- 
 founded to utter a word. 
 
PART V—WAITING 359 
 
 “Tt is really myself, Deborah,’ I said to reassure her, for 
 I could see what was in her mind. ‘It is myself and I am well.’ 
 
 “And I was. From the very edge of the sepulchre I had 
 passed to perfect strength and health. Even the angry 
 wound which through my very weakness had refused to heal 
 had closed. So in wonder I sat down to think. What did it 
 all mean? Suddenly it flashed into my mind that somehow 
 Shobek had brought about this wondrous change. Could he 
 have gone to the carpenter’s son and begged him to cure me? 
 If so, could this strange healer have restored me to strength 
 when he was far away? 
 
 “In great unrest, in deep anguish of spirit, I awaited Sho- 
 bek’s return, sleeping but little through the night. At dawn 
 he appeared and I listened, bewildered, humiliated and en- 
 thralled, to the story he had to tell. It only confirmed what 
 I had suspected, what I may say I feared. 
 
 “For I do not deceive myself. It was no turn in the course 
 of my sickness that suddenly snatched me from death. When 
 that happens there is an almost imperceptible change at first 
 and very, very slowly the one who lies hardly breathing gains 
 strength and perfect health. No, it was no such happening 
 in my case. Jesus of Nazareth sent a tide of life into my 
 body just as the breath was leaving it. But it was to you,” 
 he continued turning now to Thisoa, “that I owe the inter- 
 cession that saved me, not to Shobek. It was you who had 
 faith thatthe carpenter’s son could cure me. It was you who 
 sought him, with Shobek’s help, and found him on the moun- 
 tain top. It was most generously done. What staunch true 
 friends have I, an alien, found in this hospitable house! It 
 humbles me to think how much you have all done for me and 
 how utterly powerless I am to show my gratitude.” 
 
 “Show it,” said Aristarchus, “by being glad that you are 
 alive. ‘That is all we wish.” 
 
 “And why not rejoice,” added Thisoa, “that Jesus of 
 Nazareth cured you? You said, you feared it might prove 
 
3860 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 that he had restored you to health and life. Why should you 
 have felt so?” 
 
 “Because that is the very thing,” replied Zatthu with mani- 
 fest bitterness, “that completes my humiliation. My hopes 
 are a wreck, an utter shapeless ruin. The beliefs I had 
 cherished are all shattered. I thought Jehovah had called me 
 to free my nation. It was the voice of my own foolish pride. 
 I thought the ancient promises to my people were now to be 
 fulfilled. I was altogether wrong. I was sure the Hebrews 
 would rally round me when I fired them to throw off the yoke 
 of Rome. They flattered and encouraged me, but they would 
 not heed my call. No, they were deaf to me because they had 
 given their hearts to this son of a carpenter who has called 
 about him the common and the unclean. Everywhere I went 
 I found that the minds of those who listened to me had been 
 won by this man Jesus. He has been my undoing — he whom 
 I considered an impostor and whose healing art I denounced 
 as unholy and given him not by Jehovah but Beelzebub. And 
 now I owe my life to this very man. Oh, it is bitter, bitter, 
 bitter! To think of it is torture to my soul.” 
 
 Zatthu was too much overcome to continue, and his three 
 hearers all felt that his grief was too deep to be reached by 
 any ordinary words of consolation. But his mood was one 
 that really demanded the relief of expression, and while they 
 were wondering how they could bring comfort to such a 
 poignant distress, he rallied and went on: 
 
 “You,” he said, turning to Aristarchus, “‘wonder why I am 
 not glad to live, and tell me I have yet great things to do. What 
 things? Do you forget that I am an outlaw, that Rome has 
 set a price on my head? Where can I go and what can I do? 
 I came here under cover of the darkness. While it is yet dark 
 I must steal away. It is not so much that I fear to be taken. 
 It is the trouble I might bring to this generous house that 
 makes me fearful. And I must indeed go now. There is noth- 
 ing more to say —nothing but, Farewell. I say it with a 
 
PART V—WAITING 361 
 
 very full heart. Your kindness I can never forget. I shall 
 think of it as I go from place to place ever fleeing the venge- 
 ance of Rome. If Rome takes me, as sooner or later she surely 
 will, I shail think of it when I suffer a painful death. You have 
 been more generous to me even than my own people. I shall 
 think of you even before them. But you will never see me 
 again. However much my heart may turn to you, I shall 
 never seek your threshold. So, Goodbye.” 
 
 “Nay, nay,” said Aristarchus, refusing the hand extended 
 in farewell but placing his arm affectionately around the 
 young Hebrew, “that must not be. You must not even think 
 of going away from us so. Here is the place, the only place 
 for you, under this roof. You will be absolutely safe here. 
 No one saw you come. My servants would no more think of 
 betraying you than I should myself. And even if you should 
 be discovered, which I hold to be impossible, no harm would 
 come to me. Dismiss that thought from your mind. Did 
 Marcus mark me out for vengeance because I sheltered you 
 before? No, he was too large-minded and generous. He 
 knew you were my guest-friend and he respected the tie. It 
 is a sacred one. You have had indeed a wearing, a crushing, 
 a bewildering experience. You need to sit down and think 
 about it all till your mind sees its way clearly through the 
 maze you are in and you are at peace with yourself. Here is 
 the place for you to rest and think. My home is yours. 
 Make it so, at least till these clouds have cleared. I can my- 
 self do much, I am confident, to make them clear. I will use 
 all my nS with Marcus and through him get Rome to 
 pardon you.” 
 
 “Your kindness is as reat as one man ever showed to an- 
 other,” said Zatthu, gently but firmly releasing himself from 
 the Greek’s friendly embrace, “but I ought not to accept it. 
 I cannot accept it. Strangely was I led to this house to 
 find here such friendliness that I believed it was all ordered 
 by Jehovah, and so I took what you gave. But I must take 
 
362 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 no more. I ama Hebrew. I am hunted by Rome because I. 
 tried to free my people from her hated and unjust dominion. 
 Back to my own people I must go. In the hills of my own 
 country I must find refuge. They have sheltered many a hero 
 and prophet of my nation. It is among them that I must 
 myself find shelter, not in this generous but alien house. I 
 might take ship for some foreign shore, but wherever I went 
 the hand of Rome would reach out after me. So here in my 
 own land I shall abide and wait for the dayspring to come. 
 For come it must, though how I cannot now discern. Per- 
 haps it will be a day of deliverance. Jehovah has not for- 
 saken his chosen people. And so, Goodbye. My heart aches 
 when I say it, but it must be said.” 
 
 They saw that his will was fixed and they did not oppose it 
 further. Silently he pressed the hand of each and turned 
 resolutely away. Aristarchus accompanied him to the door 
 and watched him as he disappeared in the darkness. He did 
 not once look back, but how much it had cost him to turn from 
 the roof that sheltered Thisoa, no one of the three who had 
 witnessed his stern resolution dreamed. For Thisoa herself 
 now set down his frequent utterance of her name in delirium 
 as the mere wandering fancy of a fevered mind. 
 
PART V—WAITING 363 
 
 IV 
 
 In spite of Zatthu’s seeming aversion to receiving further 
 help from aliens, Aristarchus was determined to secure for 
 him a pardon from Rome if possible. This fixed purpose he 
 made known to Xenodice and Thisoa; but a matter of trade 
 called him the following day into Samaria before he could set 
 about this friendly act. 
 
 But his spirited daughter chafed at the delay. Zatthu 
 might be taken and summarily dealt with while those who 
 might save him stood still and did nothing. She determined 
 therefore to go to Marcus and make intercession herself. 
 
 She found the centurion at his house alone, Naarah being 
 at the bedside of a friend who needed her good offices. 
 
 “Marcus,” she began with a half-playful approach to the 
 grave object of her visit, “what reward would you give me if 
 I told you where you could find the ever-elusive Zatthu?”’ 
 
 “Which means,” replied Marcus, “that he has been at your 
 father’s house, but has gone away already.” 
 
 “There is no pleasure in trying to puzzle you,” she re- 
 joined. “You see through any little mental play too quickly. 
 Yes, you are right, as you usually are. Zatthu came to see 
 us last night, but now he is far away in the hills again.” 
 
 ‘And is he really well and strong?” inquired Marcus with 
 grave interest; for he had already heard how Thisoa, aided 
 by Shobek, had found Jesus and received from him the assur- 
 ance that the Hebrew was restored to health. 
 
 “Yes, he is well. He told us how his illness suddenly left 
 him. It was a wonderful story.” 
 
 “Ts there no limit to the compassion, the tenderness and the 
 mercy of this man of Nazareth?” queried Marcus, speaking 
 as much to himself as to Thisoa. “Is there no limit to his 
 power? Zatthu was many miles away from him, and yet he 
 raised him in an instant from mortal sickness to life and 
 
364 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 strength, even as he raised my Hacho. Who is this man? 
 What is he that he can do these things?” 
 
 “The very question I asked one of his followers who was 
 kind to me and showed me where I could find Jesus.” 
 
 “And what was his answer?” 
 
 “He said he could not answer, but he felt that Jesus was 
 greater than any one that has been on earth before and would 
 do greater things than have ever yet been done.” 
 
 “I believe he will. J believe he will,” said Marcus very 
 solemnly. ‘And what a day will dawn then — such a day 
 perhaps as this world has never seen.” 
 
 The thought was too great for mere idle speculation. Both 
 sat in silence a moment and then Thisoa said, 
 
 “Marcus, you speak as if the compassion and mercy of 
 Jesus called for our regard and reverence. Should we not 
 imitate him then? Should. we not pardon our enemies? 
 Should not Rome pardon hers?” 
 
 “By hers you mean Zatthu, no doubt.” 
 
 “Yes, I mean Zatthu.” | 
 
 “The teachings of Jesus certainly should be followed. Yet 
 one man can do what a state cannot. It is not safe for a 
 state to pardon its enemies.” 
 
 “Zatthu will do Rome no harm. He is no longer Rome’s 
 enemy.” 
 
 “So you told Naarah after Shobek sought you. From her 
 I heard the story. Zatthu, so Shobek reported, was broken 
 and dying. He left the robbers’ lair, where he was sheltered 
 and about to be betrayed, with a feeling that he had utterly 
 failed. But how is it now that he is strong and well again?” 
 
 “In body he is strong and well; but his hope is gone. He 
 is no longer at strife with Rome. She has naught to fear 
 from him.” 
 
 “Tf am ready to believe what you say. But I cannot pardon 
 him, and Rome does not easily forgive her enemies.” 
 
 “Pilate could pardon him.” 
 
PART V—WAITING 365 
 “And I could make him do so?” 
 
 66V ag.*? 
 
 “T fear not. I could not so influence him.” 
 
 “Is there no one that could?” 
 
 Marcus’ reply did not come immediately. Presently he 
 said, looking fixedly at Thisoa, 
 
 “Yes. You could.” 
 
 “T, Marcus? What do you mean?” 
 
 “T mean that Pilate is . . . very human. But,” he added, 
 for he saw that Thisoa’s cheeks were growing crimson, “I 
 neither said nor thought anything that need disturb you, 
 Thisoa. You asked me a searching question; I gave you the 
 only possible answer. If you should go to Cesarea under my 
 protection, you would have nothing to fear. I am the son of 
 the Prefect of Rome and to my friend, Pilate would not dare 
 to show any lack of respect. He would even pardon Zatthu, 
 I am fully persuaded, if he heard you plead his cause. But 
 even though I tell you this out of pity for that poor mis- 
 guided Hebrew, whom I would gladly Baye) I know it could 
 not be.” ; 
 
 “No, Marcus,” said Thisoa in a very low, sad voice, “it 
 could not be. And you understand, do you not? You know 
 why it could not be?” 
 
 “Yes, Thisoa. I understand. I eita why you could go to 
 Jesus of Nazareth and let him see all that was in your heart, 
 but not to Pontius Pilate.” 
 
 “But if Pilate so respects you because you are your 
 father’s son, why would he not heed you if you pleaded 
 Zatthu’s cause?” 
 
 “To some extent he ould I think I could save Zatthu 
 from crucifixion in case he should be taken; but I fear that 
 is the best that I could do.” 
 
 “You have said you pity Zatthu and would be glad to save 
 him. Will you not do what you can for him?” 
 
 Ves, I will do all I can.” 
 
366 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Then you will not try to capture him?” 
 
 “No; neither him nor Shobek. Kelita, I know, has met 
 his end, and for that I am glad. He was an assassin and he 
 deserved his fate. But if Zatthu is now harmless, Shobek is 
 also. That big fellow has a kindly nature. I wish all our 
 Roman soldiers were as free from cruelty and meanness as 
 he is.” 
 
 “How well you understand men, Marcus 
 
 “TI am afraid I understand Pilate only too well. It is be- 
 cause I do that I give you no great encouragement.” 
 
 “Ts he a bad man?” 
 
 “He is not a virtuous man like your father, or like Zatthu. 
 But alas! he is no worse than many a man Rome has placed 
 in authority.” | 
 
 “And will things get no better, Marcus? Will not Jesus 
 make them better?” 
 
 “Can any one man make them better? I believe Jesus could 
 if it were really possible. But the world is large and I see evil 
 in it everywhere.” 
 
 “Yes, but ever since I saw Jesus on the mountain, I have 
 felt as if he might drive all the evil in the world away.” 
 
 “Let us hope that he can, Thisoa. Let us hope that he can, 
 though it is much to hope.” | 
 
 199 
 
PART V—WAITING 867 
 
 V 
 
 The next day Marcus made the journey to Cxsarea. Pro- 
 ceeding in an altogether leisurely manner and resting when 
 the sun was highest he reached the city late in the afternoon 
 of the second day. Pilate received him cordially and, as was 
 his custom when Marcus came to see him, gave him lodging 
 in his own house. 
 
 The two soon came into conference in a room which Pilate 
 often used for semi-official purposes, but Marcus was slow in 
 letting the real object of his journey be known. He reported 
 upon the state of Galilee as he observed it; told how inter- 
 ested the people were in Jesus of Nazareth whose exhortations 
 to pure and upright living were no menace to Rome; and 
 then went on to say that Zatthu, so long and vainly sought, 
 had wholly ceased to rouse his countrymen to rebellion because 
 their devotion to Jesus made them deaf to his counsels. 
 
 “In short,” Marcus said in conclusion, “Zatthu has failed. 
 He knows he has failed. He is chagrined, even broken, and 
 he has utterly abandoned his seditious purpose. It is not 
 worth while to hunt him any more.” 
 
 “You really do not mean that he ought to roam at large?” 
 
 “Why not? He has become utterly harmless.” 
 
 ‘““But he must pay the penalty of his crimes. He has killed 
 a number of Roman soldiers. His own life must be the for- 
 feit.” 
 
 “Tt will only embitter this race, that already hates Rome 
 fiercely, to put him to death. It would be a shrewd act of 
 policy to pardon him and show that Rome is at once mag- 
 nanimous and serenely confident of her own strength — like 
 a lion that is disdainful of the weaker creatures of the wilds.” 
 
 “Do you really think that?” 
 
 “Yes, it is my sober judgment.” 
 
 *“T cannot see it so. The crimes of this outlaw must not go 
 
368 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 unpunished. ‘That would look like weakness. Moreover, 
 what assurance have I that a man so rebellious at heart will 
 for all time cease to be a breeder of strife? Discouraged for 
 the moment, he may soon take heart and again pour forth his 
 incendiary speech. A vehement and captivating pleader he 
 is said to be; a very master of seditious phrase.” 
 
 “T can vouch for him. I know that he has lost all heart 
 and abandoned once and for all the cause he had held sacred.” 
 
 “You talk as if you had had personal conference with him, 
 and yet that could hardly be — you, a centurion of Rome.” 
 
 ‘“‘Assuredly not. But friends of mine have seen him very 
 lately. It is from them that I have learned this.” 
 
 “Could they not have delivered him into your hands? Have 
 they not been false to Rome?” © 
 
 “You must remember that I am married to a Hebrew 
 woman and that I have friends who would never act against 
 Rome, but who yet could not be expected to betray a Hebrew 
 whom they sympathized with and admired. It is because I 
 have the confidence of many who are not at heart true friends 
 to Rome that I exert a quieting influence and make Rome’s 
 authority respected.” 
 
 “TY grant all that. Your position must bring difficulties. 
 IT would not make them greater. But I cannot think as you 
 do that this man, whose hands are red with Roman blood, 
 should go free and boast that he has done to death our own 
 legionaries and yet paid no penalty for his crime. For a 
 crime it is to do- violence to those who uphold the Roman 
 power. It is a crime that Rome has always visited with the 
 most summary justice. So far am I from thinking Zatthu 
 should be pardoned that I hold the cross to be his due. If 
 he is taken . . .” 
 
 But just here Pilate was interrupted by a knock at the 
 door. In response to his bidding a soldier entered and re- 
 ported that a decurion had just arrived from Galilee with 
 important news. 
 
PART V—WAITING 369 
 
 “Ts he one of those who were sent out to find that notorious 
 rebel Zatthu and his fellow outlaws?” 
 
 “Yes, he is one of those.” 
 
 “Show him here at once.” 
 
 Pilate’s face wore an eager expression while he awaited the 
 decurion’s coming. Plainly he hoped to hear that the enemy 
 who had so long baffled him was captured or killed; and 
 plainly too this same enemy’s continued immunity was a mat- 
 ter of chagrin with him. He was angry very much as a man 
 is angry with some small insect which at once vexes and: 
 eludes ‘him. 
 
 Very shortly the soldier entered again with the decurion, 
 and with the manifested consent of Pilate remained to hear his 
 story. ‘The decurion was begrimed and travel-stained. Ap- 
 parently he had come in all haste from Galilee and, owing to 
 the importance of his message, had not been allowed to remove 
 the signs of his speedy journeying before appearing in per- 
 son before the governor of Palestine. | 
 
 “You were sent to capture Zatthu and his two followers?” 
 said Pilate as soon as the man had saluted. 
 
 IN Nhe 
 
 ‘What have you to report?” 
 
 “Zatthu has fallen into our hands.” 
 
 Glancing at Marcus with a smile of triumph, Pilate then 
 inquired, 
 
 “And the other two?” 
 
 “One of them also, the tall one who is such a stout fighter. 
 The hunchback has not been seen of late and Zatthu admits 
 that he is dead.” 
 
 “The world is well rid of him. He was a cowardly mur- 
 derer. But tell your tale. When did you lay hold of these 
 two rebels, and where?” 
 
 “Tt was yesterday, late in the day, in the hills near Jota- 
 pata.” 
 
 “And you had a fierce encounter when you captured them, 
 
370 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 no doubt. Did that long-legged one — I never can remember 
 these Hebrew names — lay low any more of my legionaries? 
 He shall pay a heavy price for it if he did.” 
 
 “We did have a fierce encounter, but not with the two 
 Hebrews. It was with a band of robbers that we had to fight 
 and they would have killed every man of us if Zatthu and his 
 friend had not come to our rescue.” 
 
 An expression both frowning and puzzled came over Pilate’s 
 face and he avoided the eye of Marcus which he knew was 
 directed toward him. In a more subdued manner than he had 
 showed before, he said, 
 
 “You astonish me. I can hardly believe what you say. 
 But go on and tell your story to the end.” 
 
 *“‘Nine men were scouring Galilee under my command to 
 find these Hebrew outlaws. ‘To make the search more thor- 
 ough I sent five of them northward to hunt by themselves. 
 Word came to me soon after this that Zatthu had been seen 
 in Jotapata. I was then near Sipphoris, and toward Jota- 
 pata I directed my course with the four men I still had with 
 me. While we were following a woodland trail a mile or two 
 from the city, we heard sounds of an altercation on the road 
 below. Rushing down in the direction of the noise, we came 
 upon three robbers who were despoiling two unarmed travel- 
 lers in spite of their loud protestations. Managing to sur- 
 round the knaves before they took in what was happening, 
 we commanded them to surrender. Instead of doing so one of 
 them gave a shrill whistle, thrice repeated; and before I 
 could have counted fifty nearly a dozen more of the cut- 
 throats came running to the rescue of their comrades. So 
 now we were surrounded and a lively fight began. The rob- 
 bers were all armed, most of them with swords, one or two of 
 them with heavy clubs. Getting at us in the rear they soon 
 had two of us disabled and stretched on the ground. Another 
 was badly hurt. It was going hard with us. These men hate 
 Rome, for it crucifies them when they are caught. They were 
 
PART V—WAITING 371 
 
 determined to kill us all. As to the two travellers —they gave 
 no help. They had no weapons and there was no fight in 
 them. They were Syrian traders, I found later; and the 
 Syrians are peace lovers with no stomach for bloodshed. 
 
 “But just as I had made up my mind there was nothing 
 for us to do but cut down as many of the scoundrels as we 
 could before we met our own fate, two men darted up, shouted 
 to us not to give in, and took a hand in the fray. At the mo- 
 ment I could not see who they were. I only noted that one of 
 them seized a sword from one of my comrades who was down 
 and began to use it vigorously, while the other laid about him 
 with a ponderous club. 
 
 “You will find it hard to believe how quickly these two 
 turned our defeat into a victory. But the one who had the 
 sword — that proved to be Zatthu — knew how to use it and 
 instantly gave one of the robbers a bad wound in the side that 
 made him stop fighting. As for the other — he fought like a 
 madman. Huis club was really a small log that he had by good 
 chance picked up and he swung it so furiously that almost in 
 the twinkling of an eye he had three robbers down on the 
 ground. This seemed to take the heart out of them all. They 
 acted as if they were scared and took to their heels, while I 
 stood there dazed and wondering. 
 
 “It was Shobek, of course, who had put such terror into the 
 ruffans. I did not wonder as I looked him over and saw the 
 monstrous club he had used. Two of the men he had laid low 
 were groaning but had much life in them, and we knew their 
 comrades would come and look after them. Two others were 
 lying dead. Our Roman broadswords had dealt them the 
 fatal thrust. Another was near his end. Shobek’s club had 
 given him a death blow. Zatthu and Shobek were bending 
 over him. 
 
 *¢ ‘Mizpereth,’ I heard Shobek say to him, ‘as I had to kill 
 some one, I am glad it was you. “T'was a foul deed you tried 
 to do to a man who was kind to you and trusted you.’ 
 
872 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ** “Vet I am only sorry to see you lying here,’ said Zatthu. 
 ‘Don’t you want to say you are sorry you planned to betray 
 me before you go out of the world?’ But Mizpereth, as they 
 called him, only gasped out, 
 
 **T wish I had given you up to the Romans and got the 
 gold for it,’ and then he died. 
 
 “Perhaps I have been making my story longer than I ought. 
 It was how we captured Zatthu that you wanted to know. 
 But I have had to tell all that happened first, for we didn’t 
 capture him at all. You see I wasn’t able to lay hands on 
 him or fight to kill him and Shobek. There I was, unhurt 
 myself, but three of my four comrades were down and the 
 fourth had a bad cut in the sword arm and could not fight. 
 Shobek could have struck him down in an instant. Still, 
 there was only one thing to do. I knew these must be the two 
 I had been sent out to seize. So I said, 
 
 “Are not you Zatthu and Shobek, the two Hebrews Rome 
 has long been seeking?’ 
 
 “‘ “Yes,’ said the leader. ‘We are Zatthu and Shobek.’ 
 
 ‘“‘ ‘Then surrender to me. I have been sent to capture you, 
 and you must go with me to Cesarea.’ 
 
 “To my astonishment Zatthu answered, 
 
 “‘<T am ready to go with you. Lead me wherever you will.’ 
 
 “The tall one seemed surprised, but he said without a mo- 
 ment’s hesitation, 
 
 “¢And I go wherever my leader goes.’ 
 
 “ “Think twice,’ said Zatthu quickly. ‘I only spoke for my- 
 self. They could not take you. You would best save your- 
 self.’ 
 
 “‘ ‘No,’ was the answer. ‘I have followed you too long to 
 leave you now. I shall share your fate whatever that may be.’ 
 
 “So I took them in charge and brought them here as soon 
 as I could. Just how I had the wounded men looked after, I 
 have reported to the centurion Decimus. So perhaps I had 
 
PART V—WAITING 373 
 
 better end my story here, unless there are more things you 
 would like to know.” 
 
 “Only one more,” said Pilate. ‘“Zatthu and Shobek have 
 been placed in prison, I suppose.” 
 
 “Yes, and in chains.” 
 
 “That is as it should be. You have done well. Go now, 
 eat and rest.” 
 
 The decurion and the soldier who had brought him in left 
 the room. Pilate and Marcus sat a while in silence. Pilate 
 wanted the centurion to speak first, but Marcus wished to 
 hear the Procurator’s comments before he offered any of his 
 own. Finally Pilate said in a tone of irony, 
 
 “T suppose you feel more strongly than ever now that Zat- 
 thu should be pardoned.” 
 
 “Yes, and Shobek too.” 
 
 “Perhaps you would ask the same for the hunchback if he 
 were living.” 
 
 “Hardly; he was an assassin.” 
 
 “Do you know how he came to his end?” 
 
 “Yes, he was killed in a cave by a spy of yours after first 
 giving the fellow his death wound.” 
 
 “Oho! How well posted you are! Now I understand why 
 I have heard nothing from Pachru for some time. Well, I am 
 glad the hunchback has gone where he can kill no more of my 
 soldiers. He deserved the cross if ever a man did.” 
 
 Pilate ceased and sat silent for a while. Again Marcus 
 prudently refrained from pressing him with a plea for mercy. 
 Presently Pilate put the question, 
 
 “Marcus, do you think the emperor would pardon Zatthu 
 and Shobek?” 
 
 “Tiberius,” replied Marcus, “thas many moods. In his bet- 
 ter moods I think he would do so.” 
 
 “Zatthu is a strange being. I don’t know what to make of 
 him. We will hear what he has to say for himself tomorrow.” 
 
 On the following morning Zatthu and Shobek, with their 
 
374 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 fetters still upon them, were brought into the same official 
 room in which Zatthu had been tried and sentenced more than 
 a year before. Now as then he was face to face with Pilate 
 and Marcus both. But in what a different spirit he faced 
 them! He was humbled and weary-hearted, not defiant; and 
 Pilate was now the puzzled questioner rather than the stern 
 accuser. It was without trace of vindictiveness that he said, 
 after noting Zatthu’s subdued manner, 
 
 “You are not the same man that stood before me many 
 months since. What. has changed you?” 
 
 “Failure.” 
 
 ‘How have you failed?” 
 
 “IT tried to make my people rise against Rome. They 
 would not heed me.” 
 
 ‘Are they then contented with our rule?” 
 
 “By no means. They detest it.” 
 
 “Why P?? 
 
 “Because it humiliates them and takes away from them all 
 their sense of national greatness.” 
 
 ‘*Why then would they not heed your call to arms?” 
 
 “Because,” said Zatthu with a sigh that revealed how his 
 soul had been hurt, “I was not sent by Jehovah to free them 
 as I, in my presumption, thought I was.” 
 
 Pilate was so impressed with the prisoner’s frankness and 
 his deep despondency that he eyed him closely for a moment 
 before he questioned him further. A feeling of pity for one 
 so thoroughly humbled was rising in him. Presently he said, 
 
 “So Rome has nothing to fear from your people even 
 though they resent her sway?” 
 
 “T would not say that. The spirit of rebellion is strong in 
 them. Sometime I believe Rome will find this out to her cost.” 
 
 “You puzzle me. If your countrymen are so rebellious, 
 why could you not make them rise?” 
 
 “They have turned to another. They will listen to no one 
 but him.” 
 
PART V—WAITING 375 
 “Who is that?” 
 
 “Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 “Why do they regard him with such favor?” 
 
 ““He heals their diseases.” 
 
 “How do you know that?” 
 
 “Because they told me so. Because he healed mine.” 
 
 “He healed your own? How was that?” 
 
 “T was dying of a wound and of the fever it caused, when 
 all of a sudden I found myself well.” 
 
 “As not uncommonly happens with those who are sick. 
 How easily we deceive ourselves! But if the people think 
 this Jesus heals them and they are becoming devoted to him, 
 is he not dangerous? Will not he stir up strife against 
 Rome?” 
 
 “TY think not. He does not use seditious speech and he has 
 offended the men of learning and authority who could lead in 
 such a cause. But I do not understand him. I do not under- 
 stand him at all. He has been a stumbling block in my path, 
 and yet I owe him my life. I have yet to learn what is the 
 secret of his power and what he is really trying to do for my 
 nation.” 
 
 “You speak as if your courage were gone. Was that why 
 * you surrendered yourself two days ago? ‘The officer who 
 brought you here has told me that he could not have taken 
 you.” 
 
 ‘Yes, that was why. I had nothing to live for. I was tired 
 of being hunted. I thought I would end it all.” 
 
 “That robber whom your comrade killed — what was his 
 name?” 
 
 *““Mispereth.” 
 
 **“He planned to betray you, I believe.” 
 
 “Yes, he would have done so if my comrade here and I had 
 not fled from the robbers’ lair where we were sheltered for a 
 time.” 
 
 “And was it because of his treachery that you fought 
 
3876 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 against the robbers and saved the band of Roman soldiers 
 from being destroyed?” 
 
 “Not at all. I saw that the soldiers were trying to protect 
 travellers from being plundered. ‘They were being cut down 
 while doing their plain duty. It was only right to go to their 
 assistance. I cherish no hatred toward the robbers. I was 
 not trying to pay them back.” 
 
 ‘Would you show the way to their den?” 
 
 “It would be useless. They keep shifting their resort. 
 Without doubt they changed it as soon as Shobek and I 
 escaped from them. Still, I should be loath to aid in track- 
 ing them. Their deeds are evil, but they took me in when I 
 was wounded and fleeing for my life.” 
 
 “T still fail to understand you. You say you were tired of 
 being hunted and you thought you would end it all. Is it not 
 better to be hunted than to be crucified?” 
 
 “Perhaps. It is a choice between long wearisome years of 
 privation, suffering and anxiety, and a few hours of agony.” 
 
 “And you deliberately chose the few hours of agony?” 
 
 “That I would hardly say. When I rushed with my friend 
 to defeat the robbers and save your soldiers from death, I 
 had but one thought, to thwart an inhuman deed. When that 
 was accomplished and your soldiers rescued but crippled, I 
 merely acted on the impulse that then came to me.” 
 
 “But was there not something behind that impulse? Did 
 you think, perhaps,” and here Pilate looked very searchingly 
 at the man he was questioning as if he would read his inmost 
 thought, “that because you had rescued Roman soldiers from 
 death you would be pardoned?” 
 
 “Y was not so presumptuous. Roman justice is too sum- 
 mary and unbending to have allowed me so to think. Yet one 
 thought, one memory rather, did flash upon my mind as I 
 gave myself up to your soldiers.” 
 
 “What was that?” asked Pilate with a little more eagerness 
 than he had shown before. 
 
PART V—WAITING 377 
 
 “That when I formerly stood here before you and held up 
 my manacled hands, you ordered my fetters to be stricken 
 off.” 
 
 As Zatthu said this, Marcus wanted much to look at Pilate 
 and see how these words impressed him. He did not however 
 venture to do so, but he caught Zatthu’s eye for an instant 
 and showed him sympathy and approval by one of those 
 glances that are so subtly charged with meaning. Had Mar- 
 cus gazed at Pilate, he would easily have seen a faint gleam 
 of gratification pass over his mobile face. Not at once did he 
 continue his questioning. When he did so, it was in a milder 
 tone than he had used before that he said, 
 
 “You say you have nothing to live for. If you were free, 
 should you not soon be lifting voice and hand against Rome 
 once more?” 
 
 “Not unless my countrymen should all rise against Rome. 
 For me it is a broken hope.” 
 
 “And your comrade — what are his feelings?” 
 
 “Speak for yourself, Shobek,” said Zatthu. ‘‘You know 
 you are now your own man absolutely. I have no claim upon 
 you.” 
 
 “For these many months,” said Shobek, “I have had but 
 one thought, one purpose — to follow Zatthu and give my 
 life for him if in that way I could serve him and Israel. But 
 the cause has failed. My heart has turned from it. I cannot 
 think of myself as warring against Rome any more.” 
 
 “But you have warred against Rome,” said Pilate with a 
 touch of asperity, “and to the sorrow of those who stood 
 against you. More than once you have slain Roman soldiers. 
 When you gave yourself up, you knew, of course the fate 
 that awaited you?” 
 
 “Yes, I understood.” 
 
 “Then why did you not fly instead of surrendering?” 
 
 “My leader gave himself up. I could not desert him.” 
 
 “Not though you knew you were to die upon the cross?” 
 
378 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “No. I should have despised myself all my life if I had let 
 him go to his death alone.” 
 
 Again Pilate sat silent for awhile. After a time that 
 seemed long to all present, who out of the various feelings of 
 curlosity, sympathy, or direct personal concern were waiting 
 eagerly, he said, 
 
 “You are two misguided men. You have committed crimes 
 that Rome punishes with death. Yet you have fought side _ 
 by side with Rome’s soldiers and saved their lives. Let that — 
 deed outweigh your offenses, seeing that you have wholly 
 abandoned your purpose of freeing Judea from the Roman 
 power. Decimus, take off the prisoners’ fetters. ‘They are 
 free.” 
 
 
 
PART V—WAITING 379 
 
 VI 
 
 Of those who heard Pilate’s merciful mandate Shobek was 
 the most elated. He looked at Zatthu with eyes that fairly 
 shone with joy. Ever since their surrender he had been think- 
 ing of the man he had so faithfully followed, not of himself. 
 That this man, so downcast, so long enduring, could now 
 walk in freedom instead of looking forward to a torturing 
 death filled him with delight. 
 
 But Marcus rejoiced also. After the two captives had 
 been released from their fetters and had expressed to Pilate 
 their appreciation of his magnanimity, the big-hearted cen- 
 turion took each of them by the hand and told them how glad 
 he was that the Procurator had seen fit to pronounce a sen- 
 tence of mercy instead of rigid Roman justice. 
 
 Zatthu had so far betrayed no emotion over his unexpected 
 liberty. His manner was still subdued and sober. But he gave 
 an answering pressure when Marcus took him by the hand, 
 and he gazed very earnestly into the centurion’s frank strong 
 countenance and said, 
 
 “T should like to know you. Will you let me talk with you 
 some time?” 
 
 “Gladly. The Procurator wishes me to go with him on a 
 brief tour of inspection now. Inquire for me an hour hence at 
 his house. You shall talk with me then as long as you wish.” 
 
 The two met in a small audience room in the house of the 
 procurator. To encourage his visitor Marcus said at once, 
 
 ‘‘What was in your mind was in mine also. It will be a 
 pleasure to get acquainted with your thoughts, your purposes, 
 your desires, if you count me worthy to share them.” 
 
 “Worthy to share them? What a strange Roman you are! 
 Your countrymen are above all things arrogant and proud. 
 How is it you are so unlike them?” 
 
3880 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “My father was not too arrogant and proud to count Eliud 
 Merari as his friend and to revere him.” 
 
 “He too must be unlike most Romans. Does he also wor- 
 ship our Jehovah?” 
 
 SN o,?? 
 
 ‘““How came you to do so? Do you care to tell me?” 
 
 This was a story Marcus was entirely willing to relate to 
 one of Zatthu’s deep religious feeling. So he told how he and 
 Naarah had been brought together, and how, when he was 
 wounded and Naarah sang Hebrew Psalms at his bedside, he 
 heard for the first time in his life a strain that spoke to his 
 soul. He began then to hear from Naarah about the Sacred 
 Writings of the Hebrews and after a time to read them for 
 himself. In them he saw the truth and Naarah’s faith became 
 his own because his reason told him it was true. 
 
 “T feel as if I could trust your reason,” said Zatthu when 
 he ended, “as I can trust that of no other man. By turning 
 from your Roman religion to our own you showed that you 
 are always trying to see what is true. So, strange as it is for 
 me to look to you for light and guidance, I must do so. From 
 the leaders and teachers of my own people I can get no help.” 
 
 “Not from Eliud Merari?” 
 
 “Perhaps from him. I shall go to him to see. But he is 
 very old. He speaks rather as a prophet than as a man who 
 judges from what he sees and hears day by day. And help I 
 sorely need, for since I have failed utterly in my one cherished 
 purpose, I dare not rely on my own judgment. One ques- 
 tion, then, one burning question I must put to you: What 
 think you of Jesus of Nazareth?” 
 
 Marcus was startled by this searching question. The large 
 dark eyes that gazed with a burning intensity into his own 
 made him feel a strange sense of responsibility. And it was 
 a responsibility which he did not seem able to evade. This man 
 who had had such a shattering experience was looking into 
 his very soul to see if there were aught there to strengthen 
 
PART V—WAITING 381 
 
 him. So Marcus gave a full account of Hacho’s cure — Zat- 
 thu not deeming it wise or best to reveal that he had already 
 heard that wonderful story — and of the sum of his impres- 
 sions after observing Jesus and noting both his words and his 
 movements month after month. 
 
 “Then you, one of the appointed guardians of Rome’s 
 authority, see in this man no menace to her power?” 
 
 ‘So far, none.”’ 
 
 “Yet Galilee is aflame with devotion to him. The common 
 people throng about him, they hang upon his words, they 
 believe he has been sent by Jehovah to be their deliverer.” 
 
 “Their deliverer from what?” 
 
 “That is the burning question. It is enthusiasm, not rea- 
 son, that rules them. They believe he will lead them to great- 
 ness, but how, they have little idea. Still, there has been but 
 one way for a people to grow great, and that is by the sword.” 
 
 “Does he ever urge the sword? Can you think of him as 
 heading an army or using the sword?” 
 
 “No, I confess that I cannot.” 
 
 “No more can I. That he is greater than any of your 
 leaders and prophets of the olden days, I cannot help believ- 
 ing. That he has come to do something more wonderful for 
 your nation than has yet been wrought, I feel sure. But 
 what, I cannot say. I am simply waiting to see.” 
 
 ‘Something more wonderful for my nation than has yet 
 been wrought — yes, it would seem that with his power to 
 hea] and his power to make men follow him that should be so. 
 And yet he is destroying, not building up. Instead of uniting 
 all my countrymen he is sowing dissension among them. The 
 common people go after him like sheep; the scribes and 
 Pharisees turn away from him with scorn.” 
 
 “Though I worship Jehovah I am not a Hebrew, and in this 
 division I have no part. Yet of one thing I am confident; it 
 is the common people, not the scribes and the Pharisees, who 
 are right.” 
 
382. ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “To my humiliation I am coming to think so too, though I 
 am of the Pharisees myself, and till Jesus healed me I shared 
 the scorn they feel for him.” 
 
 “Why not go again to Merari? Perhaps it is just his pro- 
 phetic vision that will reveal what is to be. We grope. Rea- 
 son and judgment will not pierce the veil that hides the 
 future.” 
 
 “That I will do. You say rightly that reason and judg- 
 ment will not prophesy for us. But your reason and your 
 judgment have helped mine and I am grateful to you. A year 
 back you were trying to capture me and take me to my death. 
 Now I come to you for counsel. What, I wonder, is yet to 
 happen to me? My pride is gone. But perhaps I need to be 
 humbled further still.” 
 
 The two parted like friends. Each had inspired the other 
 with liking and respect. And Zatthu showed deference to 
 Marcus’ advice by going directly from Cesarea to Nazareth, 
 that he might there see Eliud Merari again. 
 
 First however he said goodbye to Shobek who found him- 
 self forced, much to his own dissatisfaction, to abide with his 
 father and resume the humble occupation he had left to follow 
 Zatthu. 
 
 “Let me go with you,” he implored. “I cannot just sell 
 figs and oil day after day now that I have wandered with you 
 and Kelita all over Palestine and .. .” 
 
 ‘And laid Roman legionaries low with giant clubs and with 
 ponderous stones,” added Zatthu as the big Hebrew hesitated 
 to complete the sentence. “No, Shobek. It must not be. 
 May Jehovah reward you for your devotion to the cause. In 
 my heart I shall bless you for it as long as I live. But it has 
 failed. What TI shall do now I do not know. But for a time 
 at least I wish to be by myself and wander and think alone. 
 So, Goodbye it must be.” 
 
 At Nazareth he found Merari as mentally alert as ever and 
 
PART V—WAITING 383 
 
 to the old man he showed the same chastened spirit in which 
 he had sought Marcus. 
 
 “Jehovah,” he said, “smote those with whom He was sore 
 displeased. He chided Moses for resisting his will. He took 
 away King David’s child and cast the King down into the 
 very dust. So has He dealt with me. A year ago I looked 
 with scorn on Jesus of Nazareth and I proudly planned to 
 call down Jehovah’s vengeance upon Rome, And here I am, 
 raised from my dying bed by this same Jesus of Nazareth and 
 pardoned by Pilate when Roman justice demanded that I 
 should hang upon the cross.” 
 
 “Do as David did, my son,” was the old man’s answer. 
 “Thank Jehovah. He has done for you the best that He can 
 ever do for any child of his. Now you can begin to see and 
 know the truth.” 
 
 “T wish I could,” said Zatthu dejectedly. ‘That is the very 
 thing I want to do. But, alas, I am still groping.” 
 
 The two then talked long together. Merari reiterated his 
 belief in Jesus of Nazareth, but how he was to bring in a new 
 day for Israel, he, Merari, could not say. He felt sure how- 
 ever that something mighty was to happen very soon. A 
 great light was to dawn, but first there was to be darkness, 
 a strange and terrible darkness. That was all he could say. 
 
 “Ought I to go and join those publicans and fishermen he 
 has drawn about him?” inquired Zatthu. “Is that what Jeho- 
 vah is asking of me to complete my humiliation?” 
 
 “No. Jesus has not called you, nor have you yet the feel- 
 ing about him that should make you one of his personal fol- 
 lowers. Watch and wait. If the light comes, as I am sure it 
 will, you will see it and will know then what to do.” 
 
 This suggestion so well accorded with Zatthu’s own incli- 
 nation that he determined to follow it. Watch and wait! 
 Yes, that must be his lot till the call to some clearly defined 
 path came unmistakably. And he was not sorry to be inac- 
 
 tive. As he had told Shobek, he felt the desire to be much by 
 
 9 
 
384 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 himself. His great purpose having come utterly to naught, 
 his life now seemed to him much like a tree that had budded 
 vigorously but had been prevented from bearing fruit by suc- 
 cessive stormy blasts. How should he make it blossom again? 
 
 With this mood upon him he lingered several days at Naza- 
 reth, studying the people there, studying his nation’s Sacred 
 Books which he borrowed from Merari, and trying to see all 
 that his own past had to teach him. Then he went down to 
 the Sea of Galilee and-on to Capernaum. 
 
 He was not eager to go to the house of Aristarchus, in spite 
 of the fact that Thisoa was never long absent from his 
 thoughts. For again and again it came to him strongly that 
 it was his country, his oppressed and misguided country, that 
 should engross his mind. A prophet had come, yet only to 
 cause division. As a Hebrew and a patriot he must for a 
 time at any rate put aside all thoughts of his own private 
 gratification. 
 
 But he had left these ever loyal friends with an almost 
 stern refusal to accept their hospitality and with the asser- 
 tion that his offences against Rome had put a lasting barrier 
 between him and them; and now the barrier was down. This 
 they had doubtless learned from Marcus. But it would be 
 only a decent recognition of their kindness to go to them and 
 show himself as a man no longer under the Roman ban, and 
 say a less austere and gloomy farewell. 
 
 As he drew near the house of the Greek merchant, he found 
 himself anticipating the cordial welcome that would surely be 
 given him. To his astonishment however the first to welcome 
 him was Shobek who saw him coming and ran to meet him. 
 
 “Why, Shobek!”? he exclaimed, “‘how is it that I find you 
 here? Have you got so used to wandering that you are going 
 to keep it up all your days? I should be sorry to think I had 
 done that for you.” 
 
 “T’ve wandered too much to be a trader again. Three days 
 of that was quite enough for me.” 
 
PART V—WAITING 385 
 
 **And so you came here?” 
 
 “And so I came here.” 
 
 “Are you going to attach yourself to Aristarchus?” 
 
 “Yes, I begged him to let me serve him. He said that he 
 should be very glad to have with him on his travels a man that 
 wielded as big a club as I did.” 
 
 ‘**He is a shrewd man, Shobek. He has the wisdom for 
 which the Greeks are famous. I shall tell his wife and daugh- 
 ter they need never be anxious now when he goes upon his 
 journeys.” 
 
 “If the need comes [ll fight hard for him. But I don’t 
 want to crack any more heads or break any more backs, even 
 of robbers. A chance to make these big hands of mine useful 
 is all I desire. Trinion gives me things to do. I was setting 
 out a camphire bush for him when I saw you coming and ran 
 to greet you.” | 
 
 “You are a fortunate man, Shobek. I wish I could busy 
 myself in setting out camphire bushes and could keep these 
 wearing and perplexing thoughts out of my mind.” 
 
 “Why not do it? Moses kept Jethro’s flocks. Why 
 shouldn’t you set out camphire bushes for Aristarchus?” 
 
 “Because I must travel up and down the land, watch what 
 is going on, think about it and see what I can make out of 
 it all.” 
 
 ‘“‘We Hebrews must all of us watch what is going on and 
 see what we can make out of it. I shall do that even while I 
 am working over camphire bushes. The man from Nazareth 
 is stirring the whole nation. I have to think about him as 
 well as you.” 
 
 “And what do you think about him, Shobek?” 
 
 “Only this, that I would stand with him rather than with 
 his enemies.” 
 
 ‘And shall you? Will he need you sometime?” 
 
 “As to that, I am in the dark. I shall work here with 
 Trinion till the light comes.” 
 
386 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “T am in the dark too, Shobek; and I shall wander and 
 watch and think till the light comes.” 
 
 “Perhaps it will come in a way that we don’t look for.” 
 
 “That is well said. For a long while after you joined me 
 at Cesarea things happened that we did not look for till at 
 last we found shelter in a robbers’ den, and I was raised up 
 from death to life by the man who had wrecked my hopes and 
 brought me low. Yes, you say well, Shobek, that the light 
 may come in a way we.do not look for. But let us not fail to 
 see 1t when it comes. But I must let you go now to your 
 camphire bush while I seek my good friends within.” 
 
 Zatthu received the warm welcome he had been sure of, but 
 again he refused the hospitality generously proffered and 
 after a brief hour departed. He made it plain that his one 
 thought now was for his people and that he must mingle with 
 them, now here now there, think for them and labor for them 
 whenever he saw the way open. But he assured these unfail- 
 ingly loyal friends that, having been loaded with kindness by 
 them when everything looked dark for him, he should not 
 forget them now that he was rejoicing in his freedom, and 
 that they would see him from time to time. 
 
 To Thisoa this was slender comfort and her heart was very 
 sore as Zatthu went away. She was still unaware that Zat- 
 thu’s feeling for her was very deep, even deeper than his fer- 
 vent desire to serve his distracted nation. 
 
PART V—WAITING 387 
 
 VII 
 
 It was with a resolute but by no means a hurried step that 
 Zatthu walked away from the house that in dark days had 
 been a home to him. He was to live for his people. Their 
 taste of joy and sorrow alike was to be his also. Yet to have 
 seen Thisoa and then to turn away from her without opening 
 his whole mind to her and drawing courage from her sym- 
 pathy was hard. His determination was unshaken, but his 
 heart was insurgent and sore. He would gratify its yearn- 
 ings by lingering just a little while where her presence might 
 still be almost felt. 
 
 So he wandered to the old olive which he knew to be a favor- 
 ite resort of hers and sat beneath it while he looked out on the 
 blue expanse of Gennesaret. 
 
 For a while he found a melancholy satisfaction in review- 
 ing the memories of his sojourn under Aristarchus’ roof. But 
 quickly the forbidding future loomed before him; the burden 
 of his thoughts grew oppressive; and he relieved himself by 
 a long drawn sigh. As he did so he became conscious of a 
 presence that the intensity of his own bitter contemplation 
 had prevented him from noting before. And even before he 
 had thoroughly roused himself and turned his eyes full on 
 this intruder upon his solitude, he heard the timid yet star- 
 tling inquiry, 
 
 “Do you want to see Jesus of Nazareth?” 
 
 It was a young girl, hardly more than a child, that stood 
 near him — yes, a child in stature but with a serious and 
 strangely wistful face. He looked at her in wonder for a mo- 
 ment and then said, 
 
 “What makes you ask that?” 
 
 “Because I thought you were in trouble. You didn’t see me 
 though I have been standing here for quite a while, and you 
 
3888. ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 looked to me very sad, and at last you gave a great long 
 sigh.” 
 
 “But why should Jesus of Nazareth help me?” 
 
 “Oh, he helps every one. He loves to help. There isn’t 
 _any thing he can’t do.” 
 
 “tow do you know that?” 
 
 “Because he helped me. Would you like to know what he 
 did for me?” 
 
 “Yes, I should be very glad to know” — “more glad than 
 you have any idea of,” added Zatthu to himself. For the 
 child’s innocent trustful speech was like balm to his troubled 
 spirit. 
 
 “YT hope you will believe what I say,” said the girl as she 
 sat down beside him. “I should not tell you if it was not true. 
 Once or twice before what I am going to tell of happened, I 
 told a lie and felt dreadfully about it afterward. But I never 
 tell any now. It would be an awful thing to do, for Jesus 
 would feel very, very sad if he knew of it. He would say: 
 ‘That was the little girl I gave back to her father and mother 
 after she had died, and now she tells a lie. For that is what 
 he did. I was very sick. The doctor could not cure me and I 
 died. Oh, you don’t know how grieved my mother was; and 
 my father and my friend Thisoa, they felt very badly too. 
 But Jesus of Nazareth came into the room where I was lying 
 and told me to arise. And then I just had to come back to 
 life. Wasn’t it wonderful?” 
 
 “You were really dead?” 
 
 “Yes, I was seeing beautiful lights and faces, but I had to 
 turn away from them and come back to father and mother 
 and Thisoa. You do believe it all, don’t you?” 
 
 The inquiry was so wistfully made that Zatthu gave the 
 girl a reassuring smile and answered, 
 
 “Yes, I believe it and do you want to know why?” 
 
 “Yes, indeed. Do tell me!” 
 
PART V—WAITING 389 
 
 “It is because, only a little more than two Sabbaths ago, I 
 was dying myself and Jesus called me back to life.” 
 
 “Oh,” cried the child delightedly, “then you know how won- 
 derful he is. But,” she went on, looking serious again, “why 
 don’t you go to him now and tell him what it is that troubles 
 you? I am sure he would make you happy again.” 
 
 “Perhaps he would. Perhaps he will. But there are 
 troubles that are not cured as easily as sicknesses. Have you 
 ever seen him since he brought you back to life?” 
 
 “Only once or twice:when there were people all about him. 
 I do long sometimes to see him and taik with him, but he has 
 all the people in the world to help, and after what he did for 
 me it would be wrong of me to trouble him any more. Just 
 think how busy he would be if all those whom he cured were 
 to seek him and try to tell him how grateful they were!” 
 
 “Busy indeed,” said Zatthu wonderingly, for the child’s 
 delicacy of feeling and perception deeply impressed him. 
 “But you like to speak about him to others, I can see; and so 
 you thought I ought to go to him because I was in trouble?” 
 
 ““Yes; whenever I see any persons sad or sick, I can’t help 
 wanting to tell them to go to Jesus of Nazareth.” 
 
 “They will bless you for it, lam sure. I thank you with all 
 my heart, though Jesus has already done for me what no one 
 else could have done. Yes, I thank you and I want to know 
 your name.” 
 
 “T am Naomi.” 
 
 ‘And you are a friend of Thisoa?” 
 
 “Yes, yes! She is my very dear friend. I love her more 
 than any one but father and mother. Do you know her too?” 
 
 “Yes, I know her. I am Zatthu. I was in her father’s 
 house for a whole month a year ago.” 
 
 “Oh, are- you Zatthu, the man of my own people whom 
 Thisoa hid so cunningly from the Romans? She told me all 
 about that, but I never saw you when you lived in the house. 
 I should think you would love Thisoa too.” 
 
390 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “TY think all do who know her.” 
 
 “T am sure they do. I do not see how they could help it. 
 But if you are Zatthu and know her so well, I should think 
 you might help her. You know how sad she is don’t you?” 
 
 “N-no,” said Zatthu hesitatingly, not quite knowing how 
 to stop the child and yet feeling that she was beginning to 
 touch on things he ought not to hear. 
 
 “Yes, she is sometimes very sad. She sits here under this 
 tree and looks out on the lake for a long time without speak- 
 ing. I have sometimes thought she was missing some one; 
 but I don’t know who it could be. She has her father and 
 mother — her father does go away very often but it’s never 
 for long—and she never had any brothers and sisters. I 
 wonder if it is some friend that she wants very much to see. 
 But people don’t miss friends like that, do they?” 
 
 . “Shouldn’t you miss Thisoa if she was very long away so 
 that you could not see her?” 
 
 “Oh, yes! I should miss her more than I could tell. But 
 she is my very, very own friend, not like any other — and 
 then, why, she is Thisoa and she is so dear!” 
 
 “T am glad she has you for a friend and I am sure it makes 
 her happy to talk with you. It has made me feel better than 
 I did. When I think of Jesus of Nazareth, as I shall do every 
 day, I shall sometimes think of you also. I am going away 
 from Capernaum now; but some day I shall come back again, 
 and when I do I shall want to see you, and now, Goodbye.” 
 
 “Goodbye. Are you going where you will see Jesus of 
 Nazareth?” 
 
 “Not right away. Some time perhaps I may see him.” 
 
 “Tf you should ever see him and talk with him, would you 
 tell him that the little girl he brought to life after she was 
 dead thinks of him every day?” 
 
 “Yes, I will tell him that if I should ever talk with him and 
 make him understand how grateful I am to him for healing 
 mes"? | 
 
PART V—WAITING 391 
 
 Zatthu’s mind was deeply stirred as he walked away. The 
 girl’s innocent and artless speech had roused in him per- 
 turbing questions. Was Thisoa’s interest in him more than 
 friendly? Was it of him that she was thinking when she sat 
 long in silence by the lakeside? And was it with tender and 
 intense solicitude that she had begged Jesus to heal him? He 
 wondered if he ought to go to her now, reveal the depth of his 
 own feeling for her and invite her to show him her own heart. 
 But no! It was not the moment to do that. He would cling 
 to his purpose and devote himself now wholly to his people. 
 If it was Jehovah’s will that he was to share all with this 
 alien girl, the way would in due time be shown. He would 
 leave Capernaum at once and set his face toward Jerusalem. 
 
392 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Vill 
 
 The multitude of the heavenly host that appeared to the 
 wondering shepherds when Jesus was born at Bethlehem must 
 have watched him with profound solicitude through all his 
 years upon the earth. By them was felt the depth of his sor- 
 row, the awfulness of his conflicts and the unutterable anguish 
 of his solitude. For to them was known his mission of redemp- 
 tion and the meaning of the sacrifice for which it called. 
 
 Nor could the hosts of darkness have been ignorant of the 
 nature of the Son of Man. It was to shatter their own power 
 and to save men from its blighting influence that he was born 
 into the world. They too understood his mission. 'Too well 
 they understood it; malignantly they tried to thwart it; 
 exultant would they be to see it fail. 
 
 So tountless unseen multitudes were watching Jesus of 
 Nazareth. They had watched him unceasingly, absorbingly, 
 as he met temptation, wrought miracles of healing, was trans- 
 figured on the mountain and roused both hatred and devotion 
 when he spoke as no other man had ever spoken. And more 
 anxiously than ever did they watch him now that the last 
 days were at hand. Gethsemane and Calvary were near. 
 Would they bring the world redemption or limitless eternal 
 loss? These invisible hosts of ight and darkness were wait- 
 ing to see! Yes, with a solicitude that was thrilling beyond 
 all human power to understand, they were waiting to sce. 
 
 ‘And even so did those on the earth who saw and knew Jesus 
 and who wondered at him, watch and wait. Eagerly, impa- 
 tiently they were waiting. Friends and foes alike were rest- 
 less over his failure to declare himself a king. Then would 
 come his day of glory, thought the believing multitudes. 
 Then will come his utter downfall, reasoned the scornful 
 Pharisees. But he went on healing and teaching, and no 
 
PART V—WAITING 393 
 
 crisis came. So in eager expectancy his movements were ob- 
 served all over Palestine. 
 
 The High Priest in Jerusalem observed them with the 
 gravest concern. With his fellow ecclesiastics he felt that the 
 very foundations of the ancient Hebrew worship were being 
 destroyed. The people were mad to follow after this impos- 
 tor who daily did the most shocking and impious things. To 
 what follies would he lead these deluded throngs! Of what 
 sacrilege would he make them guilty! They must eye him 
 with vigilance and forstall his wicked schemes. 
 
 Their thought was shared by the Pharisees and the Herod- 
 ians — the latter corrupt, selfish and time-serving, the former 
 proud and intensely loyal to the Jewish tradition. But 
 natively antagonistic though the two sects were, they were 
 one in their venomous dislike of Jesus and their fear that he 
 would set an unclean rabble over them. So they viewed his 
 every act with suspicion and were ready to dog his steps. 
 
 And the people, so despised and so devoted — how ardently 
 they longed for this beneficent healer to assume his kingship! 
 What wonders would he then perform! How would he cast 
 down the mighty and destroy the proud! And the blessings 
 he would rain down on themselves, his faithful ones, would be 
 measureless. It was with high fond hopes that they waited 
 for their leader to show the world his greatness. 
 
 Yet with greater eagerness still his chosen disciples looked 
 to the hour that should make them sit in his own reflected 
 glory. Their selfish ambitions he rebuked. They were to be 
 as little children, not to sit on thrones. Still, they could not 
 believe the coming grandeur would fail to lift them into 
 state and splendor. So they looked for it and yearned for it. 
 Anxiously they watched their Master to note the first signs 
 of its coming. 
 
 What was thus awaited all through Judea and Galilee was 
 anticipated also by those who figure largely in these pages. 
 From his home in Nazareth Merari looked forth over the 
 
394 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Valley of Esdraelon and hoped to see a new day for Israel 
 dawn. Marcus and Naarah, and Hacho too who was friend as 
 well as servant, talked often of Jesus and wondered when and 
 what he would do for his people. ‘Thisoa’s thought was ever 
 turned to him, for she had a strange feeling that the light he 
 was to usher in would banish her own darkness and take away 
 the soreness of her heart. With Naomi, ever affectionate and 
 ever warmly sympathizing,, she shared this hope without re- 
 vealing her pent-up emotion; and she found the little maid a 
 true comforter. For she, who had felt the touch of the heal- 
 ing hand of Jesus, had no doubt of his power to make the 
 entire world whole. To talk of him and of the wondrous 
 things he said and did was the very joy of her heart. 
 
 Shobek also proved to be a friend in this troublous hour. 
 The clear-sighted youth had seen in Jesus the dawning of a 
 great hope; and Zatthu’s failure, as he frankly assured 
 Thisoa, made him still more ready to believe that the healer 
 of Nazareth would be the redeemer of the nation. And if 
 Aristarchus and Xenodice had too untroubled a life to make 
 this same faith vivid in them, they yet shared it in a measure. 
 All the land was talking of this worker of wonders and viewing 
 him with the liveliest interest. Tio them too he therefore 
 became a commanding figure, called to some strange and lofty 
 destiny. 
 
 And Zatthu? Night and day the humbled but still zealous 
 Hebrew kept his thoughts fixed on the man who had delivered 
 him from death. Steadfastly, untiringly he too waited and 
 watched. That mysterious future, with promise of weal or 
 woe according to the hearts of the beholder, he, like all, failed 
 to penetrate. Yet he was sure it would bring blessing; and to 
 make it do so he would strive with all his strength. It was a 
 prophet that had come to Israel — a prophet, he was now 
 persuaded, greater than had been seen of old. 
 
 Meanwhile the Gentiles sat in darkness and were content. 
 Rome on her seven hills felt peaceful and secure. The world 
 
PART V—WAITING | 395 
 
 was at her feet. She neither knew nor thought of Him who 
 said with a meaning she could not have fathomed, “I have 
 overcome the world.” With proud confidence she reflected 
 that through her boundless dominions she had established the 
 reign of peace and law. ‘Through her unconquerable might 
 the sun looked down by day and the stars by night on seas 
 white with the sails of commerce and on vales that laughed 
 with fertility and echoed to the reaper’s song. Rebellion was 
 as easily crushed as the tiniest snake beneath the rustic’s heel. 
 War in its pomp and its terrors was no more and the archway 
 of Janus remained unopened year by year. Why then should 
 the haughty mistress of the world take note that Judea was 
 in ferment and that all eyes there were turned toward the man 
 whose fan was in his hand and who was making ready to 
 gather the wheat into his garner and to burn the chaff? 
 What if he brought a crisis in that restless strip of country? 
 His own people might all look to him with high hope or with 
 overshadowing fear. ‘To the far-off city on the Tiber he was 
 as nothing. So Rome slumbered on in her dense unbroken 
 night, while the light was growing that was soon to lighten 
 the world. 
 
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 A bate hy Me 
 
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 Dyas i iti wht vn ed ra h Poi! 
 : er Pen iNe ea oA Sree re 4 ee wenn ty * 
 
 
 
Part VI 
 DARKNESS AND DAY 
 
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PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 399 
 
 I 
 
 Yes, Jesus of Nazareth was nearing the end of his mission 
 upon earth. For more than two years the storm had been 
 gathering about him. In its full fury it was soon to burst. 
 
 Hatred had followed him from the very moment when he 
 began to speak and act. At Nazareth they would fain have 
 killed him, and he left his childhood’s home to dwell at Ca- 
 pernaum. Thence he went soon to Jerusalem to give mortal 
 offence to the whole priestly class when he scourged out of the 
 temple the traders and money-changers who defiled it and 
 whose practices were yet sanctioned by the priests themselves. 
 He went back to Capernaum and told it that it was worse 
 than Sodom because the mighty works that had been done in 
 it had not won it to repentence, and it would be brought down 
 to hell. And the mighty works were done. They were done . 
 day after day. The multitudes were healed of all manner of 
 diseases and a flame of joy and exaltation ran through all 
 the country round. Those who were not the slaves of tradi- 
 tion hailed this friend and deliverer as one sent from on high. 
 
 And even at Jerusalem there were synagogue rulers who 
 bowed to the purity and the majesty of Jesus in spite of the 
 scorn and the wrath which he aroused. But they dared not 
 follow or defend him, for the scorn and the wrath were deadly. 
 This healer broke a Commandment of Moses, for even in their 
 sacred Jerusalem he cured a man upon the Sabbath. And 
 this crime he magnified by declaring that God was his Father 
 and making himself equal with God. Then and there they 
 would have slain him, but their fury called forth such a 
 sublime strain of vindication and rebuke that they were 
 utterly overawed. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that 
 heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me hath ever- 
 lasting life. . . . But I know you, that ye have not the love 
 of God in you. I am come in my Father’s name, and ye 
 
400 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 receive me not; if another shall come in his own name, him ye 
 will receive.” 
 
 After such a tremendous issue between himself and those 
 who would destroy him there must come a season of calm. He 
 goes.back to Capernaum. He teaches and he heals. The mul- 
 titudes throng after him. He crosses Gennesaret. They fol- 
 low him there. They are without bread and he feeds them. 
 With these simple and unlearned people his power becomes 
 unbounded, even as the Divine power grows in him without 
 bound or measure. For his submission to the Father’s will is 
 absolute and that will begins to manifest its awful holiness. 
 On towering Hermon it shines through him in unclouded 
 brightness and the three beholding disciples are overwhelmed 
 by its dazzling radiance. 
 
 But not in revealed sanctity upon the mountain side and not 
 chiefly in deeds of love and mercy to the faithful is he now to 
 spend his days. Jerusalem ever calls him — Jerusalem, with 
 its turbulent life, its splendid ritual, its august temple; Jeru- 
 salem, which had been the nation’s glory and was still the 
 nation’s hope. It was there that the solemn feasts were held 
 — the Feast of Tabernacles, the Feast of the Dedication and 
 the Feast of the Passover. In these he must have a part. He 
 set his steps toward Jerusalem when these ceremonies were to 
 be observed. 
 
 Kach time his coming brings a storm and he knows that it 
 will be so. Fiercer, ever fiercer burns the hatred of his ene- 
 mies. Loftier grows his own self-assertion— inevitably so, 
 for the self that he is asserting is the Divine Self that is tak- 
 ing possession of him wholly. But the eyes of the Jews were 
 blinded to that self and to them its utterances were therefore 
 blasphemous. On the last, the great day, of the Feast of the 
 Tabernacles, he cried, “If any man thirst, let him come unto 
 me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the Scripture hath 
 said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.” Not 
 to be endured were such words as these from the son of a car- 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 401 
 
 penter of Nazareth. Officers were sent by the chief priests 
 and the Pharisees to seize him, but again the majestic mien 
 and the awe inspiring words were a shield. The officers stood 
 enthralled and could only report to those who had sent them, 
 “Never man spake like this man.” 
 
 Altogether human, however, is the figure that can thus use 
 superhuman speech and rise to a superhuman grandeur. 
 Jesus still is and to the last remains the very personification 
 of gentleness and tenderness. To all who will open their 
 minds and hearts to him he is the same kind friendly man that 
 took little children in his arms and raised to life the widow’s 
 son. In these stormy days when he sees the Cross drawing 
 very near and passionate hate ready to engulf him as a sea, 
 how lke balm to his spirit must have been every opportunity 
 to do a deed of mercy or to pass into a sphere of true, under- 
 standing affection! He turns away from his raging and 
 malignant enemies to spend a quiet hour in the home of Mar- 
 tha and Mary; he gives sight to the man blind from his birth; 
 from the man who was dumb he cast out the devil that pos- 
 sessed him; and he spoke the words that went to the very soul 
 of the woman he had saved from a cruel death. 
 
 It is in Judea, not far from Jerusalem, or in the city itself, 
 that he does these things. Not very far from it does he ever 
 wander now, and to it he once more goes when the Feast of 
 the Dedication comes round. And he goes to astound the 
 priests and the Pharisees by his claims. “I and my Father 
 are one,” he now asserts, and they who heard him took up 
 stones to stone him. But again they are impotent and “he 
 escaped out of their hands.” 
 
 This tempest of passion and malignity must be allowed to 
 quiet. Once more he shuns the atmosphere of persecution and 
 misunderstanding, and this time he withdraws beyond the 
 Jordan to the country where John at first baptized. Once 
 more he refreshes his soul by speaking to simple unembittered 
 hearts, and by ministering to any who are in need. Here 
 
402 ZAT'THU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 many believed on him. Here he was visited by those Phari- 
 sees, friendly but all too few, who came to warn him against 
 Herod; and here he wept over Jerusalem because it would 
 not take the salvation which he brought and was therefore 
 doomed to perish. 
 
 It was this same deep tender yearning affection that now 
 called him back into Judea. Well did the two sisters, Mary 
 and Martha, understand it, and they now summoned him in 
 their hour of need. Their brother Lazarus was sick and they 
 sent word of it to Jesus, feeling sure that that would be 
 enough. He came, but not at once; and he found that Laz- 
 arus had died. For this friend whom he loved he is sorely 
 grieved and he sheds tears. He sheds tears and then brings 
 him back to life, thus completing those deep contrasts that 
 transcend the range of a merely human nature and a merely 
 human experience. The Jesus who said “I am meek and lowly 
 of heart,” was the Jesus through whom the divine glory shone 
 upon Mount Hermon. The Jesus who let the woman bathe 
 his feet with her tears and wipe them with her hair was the 
 one who made the hostility of the priests and the Pharisees 
 blaze into unquenchable hatred by his scathing words of 
 rebuke. Every time he stood before them he was the stern 
 accuser who called them to account for their sins, and infuri- 
 ated them by the very majesty of his presence and his speech. 
 For it was no petty spirit of self-love or of revenge that 
 spurred these men on against him and made them his implac- 
 able foes. It was his self-assertion even more than his censure 
 that intensified their rage. The feeling that drove them on to 
 seek his life was not merely wounded pride, but horror — hor- 
 ror at words and deeds that outraged their ancient holy wor- 
 ship and smote at the very heart of the nation’s life. Was not 
 this life given and directed by Jehovah even from the days of 
 Abraham? And this man, this carpenter’s son, made himself 
 one with the awful Jehovah to whom they alone in all the 
 world bowed down! It was blasphemy. It was leading the 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 403 
 
 people astray. It would bring down a curse from Jehovah 
 himself if it were not visited with the most summary punish- 
 ment. And there was but one way to avoid the wrath of Him 
 who had showed himself of old a jealous God. This blas- 
 phemer must be forever silenced. So the chief priests and the 
 Pharisees met to see what they must do. By that strange irony 
 which often makes it seem as if a higher hand than human were 
 shaping human things, they met just after Jesus had called 
 back Lazarus from the tomb. The life of him who gave life 
 they were eager to destroy. Indeed this very act of love and 
 friendship was made to testify against him. It was one of the 
 many proofs that by miracles he was winning the people away 
 from the worship of the living God. Their wrath was fierce. 
 It supplied them with resolution. Caiaphas, the high priest, 
 voiced the intensity of their feeling and declared that one man 
 must die for the people and the nation perish not. 
 
 But Jesus knew that his hour had not yet come and once 
 more he betook himself out of the way of harm. He withdrew 
 to the town of Ephraim in northern Judea; and here and at 
 Jericho and in the borders of Samaria he healed the lepers 
 and the blind, he blessed little children, he read the heart of 
 the generous publican Zaccheus, and for the third time he told 
 his disciples that at Jerusalem he was to be put to death and 
 to rise on the third day. 
 
404. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 II 
 
 One of the group of Pharisees who went to the country 
 beyond Jordan to warn Jesus against Herod was Zatthu. 
 The Nazarene whom he had once deemed a menace to the 
 nation he now regarded as its hope. Startled indeed he had 
 sometimes been as he listened to Jesus’ solemn and inspired 
 insistence upon oneness with the dread Jehovah. In the cham- 
 bers of his soul he felt a shock when he heard these sublime 
 utterances. And he heard nearly all of them; for whenever 
 Jesus drew the Jews about him in Jerusalem and awed and 
 angered them at once by his majestic speech, Zatthu had been 
 one of the attending throng. But if he was startled by these 
 unparalleled claims, it was only for a moment. Deeper and 
 ever deeper sank the conviction in his mind that a greater than 
 the prophets was here. 
 
 Not for him however was immediate discipleship. The 
 twelve had been chosen to walk with their Master day by day. 
 The Seventy had been sent forth to gather their own harvest. 
 But not all those who believed in Jesus were called to follow 
 him publicly or to teach and to cast out devils in his name. 
 Nicodemus held himself in readiness to do what service he 
 might when the hour of need came. There were other Phari- 
 sees that did the same. Zatthu did the same. He, like others 
 who saw in Jesus the Redeemer of the Jewish nation, looked 
 confidently to the time when he should be truly a king — yes, 
 a king who should dim the glory and the greatness of Solomon. 
 When that time came, he, Zatthu, would strengthen his hands. 
 Till that time came he would use what power and influence he 
 had to shield and safe-guard this man whose enemies daily 
 grew in number and in bitterness. 
 
 What a strange path this proud-spirited Hebrew had had 
 to travel! Yet he had traveled it. What a painful circuit 
 he had had to make! Yet he had made it. The path had led 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 405 
 
 him up the heights of self-renunciation; but he had climbed 
 unshrinkingly even when the way was icy and sheer. And 
 beginning with an elation that had made him feel he was 
 almost another Moses or Elijah, he had come round to the 
 belief that he was only an erring child. To realize this had 
 cost him many a pang, and many an hour of conflict when the 
 old proud self called for the homage he had once received but 
 which he had now to give to another who was infinitely 
 worthier than he. He had conquered in the struggle, but it 
 had left its marks. He looked years older than he did when he 
 faced Pilate as the chosen instrument of an offended and 
 avenging God — yes, and older than when he appeared again 
 before the procurator as a broken and disappointed man. 
 His eyes were sunken but as bright as ever. His face was 
 thin. Faint lines could already be traced upon his brow. A 
 gravity that was almost stern and forbidding was the settled 
 expression of his face. Yet he did not bear himself as a man 
 who was crushed. There was a latent energy in his walk and 
 all his movements, and when he spoke, even though his words 
 were measured, there was weight and decision in his tones. 
 If he was of the meek who were to inherit the earth, the in- 
 heritance was not to come through idle waiting. 
 
 It might be supposed that after thus fully accepting the 
 leadership of Jesus he would seek him out, own allegiance, and 
 strengthen his devotion through that personal intercourse 
 which is more potent far than the word spoken to the many. 
 Yet he had not done so and it was his humility that had kept 
 him thus aloof. The world was running after this holy and 
 inspired man. The people would not let him alone and he 
 could but have weary hours when he craved above all things a 
 respite from the importunities of his own followers and the 
 press of the multitudes who viewed him with adoration, All 
 this Zatthu realized, even as he made one of those who hung 
 upon his words. So he quietly waited for the time to come 
 
406 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 when he was manifestly called into the very presence of this 
 man he was more than willing to serve. 
 
 That time came when he and other friendly Pharisees 
 learned of Herod’s plot to kill him. Of this he should be 
 warned. Accordingly they crossed the Jordan and sought the 
 place where they knew him to be. They found him and on 
 Zatthu it fell to be their spokesman. And here was the oppor- 
 tunity for him to say, “I am he whom you healed and now I 
 would gladly give my.life for you.” But he did not say it. 
 He knew that it was not necessary. As he stood face to face 
 with Jesus, he was conscious that in some heaven-sent way 
 this man who knew what was in men was reading his very soul. 
 The eye that looked so searchingly into his saw his whole 
 history written there. Yes, he saw it and he made it manifest 
 that he saw it; for his own eye gave an answering look that 
 thrilled Zatthu through and through. It said as plainly as 
 words could say it: “It was not in vain that I called you from 
 death to life. The blessing of Jehovah is yours.” 
 
 So profoundly moved was Zatthu that some moments 
 passed before he could command himself to speak, and those 
 who had come with him wondered at his silence. But finally 
 he made known his errand, only to marvel at the answer it 
 called forth, even as those who listened to Jesus again and 
 again found themselves wondering what strange deep import 
 there was in his words. 
 
 “Go ye and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out devils and I do 
 cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I shall be per- 
 fected.’ ”’ 
 
 Such was the answer to their warning message. ‘‘What 
 does it mean?” they asked each other as they wended their 
 way back again. None knew, but the mention of the “third 
 day” gave Zatthu an uneasy feeling. He knew that more than 
 once before Jesus had declared that he should be slain and 
 rise on the third day. Were the words they had just heard 
 another prediction that the life of Jesus was to end in defeat 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 407 
 
 instead of triumph? Something of this kind Merari had 
 seemed to see portending. What could it mean? Surely this 
 man even more than Elisha could make the hosts of heaven 
 smite down those who would destroy him. He could not un- 
 derstand, but he would be watchful and, if need be, active. 
 He was a Pharisee. He was Zatthu. Some influence he could 
 exert in behalf of Jesus in case his enemies should threaten his 
 very life. 
 
 And he soon found that they did so threaten it. It was not 
 very long after he and his friends had sought Jesus beyond 
 the Jordan that the priests and Pharisees consulted how to 
 put an end to Jesus and his teaching, and Caiaphas declared 
 that one man must die to save the nation’s life. Zatthu 
 straightway learned of this and sought Caiaphas to protest 
 against this deliberately planned violence. 
 
 Caiaphas readily gave ear to him. He could not but listen 
 to the man who less than three years earlier had had all Jeru- 
 salem under his spell. ‘True, his failure to achieve what he 
 had promised had brought him into some contempt; and his 
 known friendliness to the impostor who was a growing menace 
 to the worship of Jehovah was noted with deep disfavor. But 
 he had native force and power. He could still thrill the multi- 
 tudes. He was a man to reckon with and to be heard. 
 
 Caiaphas met him with bland civility, but their interview, 
 peaceable at first, soon grew stormy and passionate. Zatthu 
 began by mildly insisting that Jesus was wholly blameless in 
 his life, that he won the hearts of the people by curing their 
 diseases and showing them kindness, and that his words were 
 a summons to purity of deed and thought. ‘To this plea 
 Caiaphas replied by dwelling on Jesus’ claims to equality with 
 God, even with the dread Jehovah; for such claims a true 
 Hebrew patriot could only regard as blasphemies. 
 
 “That,” rejoined Zatthu, “would depend entirely on the 
 one who made the claims.” 
 
 “Exactly,” said Caiaphas, still smiling and suavely iron- 
 
408 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ical, ‘“‘and the man in this case is a mere carpenter of Naza- 
 reth.” 
 
 ‘‘And Moses was a man who had to flee for safety because 
 he had struck down an Egyptian.” 
 
 The brow of Caiaphas darkened and his tones were strident 
 as he answered, 
 
 “Moses was chosen by God and of that he gave proof.” 
 
 ‘““What proof?” 
 
 “He performed miracles.” 
 
 “So does Jesus.” 
 
 “Yes, by Beelzebub.” 
 
 “fe heals the blind, the leprous and the palsied without: 
 number. He calls the dead and dying back to life. Is that 
 the work of Beelzebub?” 
 
 “Why not? He does it to mislead.” 
 
 “It is two thousand years almost since Abraham was called 
 from Ur. Our Sacred Books give us a record of all that time. 
 Do they tell us that Beelzebub has ever wrought such mani- 
 fold good works before?” 
 
 “It was he surely that gave the Egyptian sorcerers their 
 power.” 
 
 “And the Egyptian sorcerers turned their rods into ser- 
 pents. Did they heal the sick and the blind?” 
 
 “No, nor do I believe that Jesus really does such things. 
 He is an impostor, a deceiver. He makes the people believe 
 that he has powers he does not possess.” 
 
 “Ah, then he does not do these things through Beelzebub? 
 You claim now that he does not do them at all?” 
 
 Caiaphas was furious. He had shifted his ground and had 
 been taxed with doing so. He was determined at any rate to 
 be consistent now. 
 
 “No,” he exclaimed passionately, “he does not do them at 
 all. He is the friend of Beelzebub and through Beelzebub he 
 gets a strange unholy power over credulous minds. He makes 
 them think they see things that never happen.” 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 409 
 
 “Ah, but they do happen.” 
 
 “TI tell you, they do not.” 
 
 “And I can bear witness that they do.” 
 
 ‘You can bear witness that they do? What are you say- 
 ing? What do you mean?” 
 
 “T mean that when I was hurt and dying Jesus gave me 
 back to life.” 
 
 The high priest looked at Zatthu for a moment in blank 
 astonishment. 'Then he became so convulsed with anger that 
 he could hardly command himself to speak. But he did not 
 forget the dignity of his high office, and after a few moments 
 he said calmly, but with bitter irony, 
 
 “Oh! so you too are one of the deluded ones! We should 
 hardly have expected that of Zatthu — Zatthu who not long 
 since was making us think he was raised up by Jehovah to 
 free Israel!’ 
 
 “TI was one of the deluded ones,” replied Zatthu, still calm 
 but with a growing sternness of voice and manner. “I was so 
 deluded that I thought Jesus was an impostor and I was 
 chosen by Jehovah to break my people’s yoke of bondage. 
 For my folly and my pride I was brought very low by Jeho- 
 vah. The people would not heed me, and rightly, because 
 they saw in Jesus their true deliverer. I was forsaken, and 
 sheltered by thieves. At last, wounded and sick and the 
 breath almost gone out of me, I was restored to life and 
 strength by this same Jesus I had despised. I humbled myself 
 then and Jehovah opened my eyes. I came to see that Jesus 
 was Messiah. He is greater than Moses, greater than Solo- 
 mon, greater than any of the prophets that heard the voice 
 of God. Hehas come to redeem Israel and raise it to a glory 
 of which it has never dreamed. And yet you, you and your 
 brother priests to whom the nation’s highest weal has been 
 entrusted, are ready to degrade your sacred office and to seek 
 the death of the very man who has been sent to save us.” 
 
410 ZATTHU-——A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 For a moment Caiaphas was awed by this fierce denuncia- 
 tion, for Zatthu spoke like an accusing prophet. But anger 
 quickly resumed possession of him and loosened all re- 
 straint. . 
 
 “Yes,” he answered, his eyes blazing and his voice quiver- 
 ing with passion, “and his death shall soon be brought about. 
 This man Messiah! This carpenter from Nazareth, this 
 friend of sinners, greater than Moses! It is impious to talk 
 so. Jehovah will curse you for thus betraying his own chosen 
 nation |” 
 
 “The traitor is you! Yes, you and all the others who are 
 so infamously plotting to destroy this holy man! But you 
 will not succeed! You can never succeed! Jehovah will safe- 
 guard him from your hands as he safe-guarded Elisha and 
 Daniel long ago.” 
 
 “Enough!” cried Caiaphas, rising in the vehemence of his 
 wrath. ‘I will listen to you no longer. You are giving proof 
 yourself of this man’s malign and unhallowing influence. He 
 has made a devil take possession of you, or you would not so 
 defame our holy men who spoke the word of Jehovah. Go! 
 I will not hear you, but I can only pity you as one whom a 
 demon has bereft of reason.” 
 
 “It is my wish to go,” said Zatthu, who had also risen. “I 
 see that words are useless. But look at me! look at me calmly 
 and searchingly, Caiaphas, and tell me, if you can, that I bear 
 the marks of one who has lost his reason. Tell me, if you can, 
 that Nicodemus and other Pharisees I might name who believe 
 that Jesus is a holy man, are senseless, distraught, or treach- 
 erous. It is reverence that rules in our hearts, reverence for 
 what is good and pure. It is hatred that rules in yours, a 
 bitter, malignant hatred that blinds your eyes and turns 
 your hands to evil. Jehovah judge between me and you! 
 Yes, Jehovah, who is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap! 
 He will come to judge, and who shall abide the day of his 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 411 
 
 coming? You? You who are plotting to slay an innocent 
 man?” 
 
 BEV GS ithe. 
 
 Zatthu gazed at him searchingly for a moment. Then he 
 said sorrowfully, 
 
 “Tt is you that are to be pitied,” and went away. 
 
412 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 III 
 
 In telling Caiaphas that he and his party could not take 
 the life of Jesus, Zatthu had been sincere. The fact remained 
 however that these enemies would stop at nothing in com- 
 passing their end. Mere prudence therefore seemed to require 
 that Jesus should be protected in every possible way. So 
 thinking, Zatthu determined to go to Capernaum and ask 
 Marcus to intercede for him. 
 
 As he made the journey he could not help commenting on 
 the extraordinary change the course of events had wrought 
 in his own feeling and conduct. Less than three years before 
 he had been taken before Pilate as a conspirator against the 
 Roman power. Now he was about to ask that same power to 
 prevent his countrymen from doing a violent and shameful 
 deed. How very strange! These tyrannical and brutal Ro- 
 mans, if he could carry out his purpose, were to be Jehovah’s 
 instrument to prevent the priests of his own chosen people 
 from staining their hands with guilt. As he thought it all 
 over he was almost impelled to turn back to Jerusalem, his 
 errand seemed so preposterous. But did not Jehovah use the 
 very Egyptians whom he afterwards punished to bring Jacob 
 and his sons into Egypt? Verily the ways of the Most High 
 were beyond the comprehension of men. Zatthu was sure that 
 Jesus was Jehovah’s servant and needed protection. He saw 
 but one way to protect him and so he kept on his way till he 
 reached Capernaum. 
 
 He had not sought Marcus before since he had talked with 
 
 him in Cesarea. The centurion received him very cordially, 
 
 made it plain that he was glad to renew the acquaintance and 
 
 lent a willing ear to his plea. But when he had heard Zatthu’s| 
 
 story to the end he said very positively that he could take no 
 such action as Zatthu wished. 
 “The whole matter is entirely outside the scope of my power 
 
 ES 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 413 
 
 and influence,” he declared. “It cannot be murder or crime 
 that your countrymen, through their own priests, are plot- 
 ting. What they attempt will surely be by process of law.” 
 
 “Law! Law!” said Zatthu reflectively. “And will that 
 mean justice? As you have watched trials and courts have 
 you gained respect for them?” 
 
 “Yes, much. They err. So do men err all the time in all 
 the various things they do. But these same erring men took 
 a long step forward when they began to accuse one thought 
 guilty and try him instead of acting on mere impulse and 
 suspicion.” 
 
 “But of what use is a trial if those that judge have made 
 up their mind beforehand that the accused ts guilty and are 
 determined to condemn him?” 
 
 “Of little use in that case, I admit.” 
 
 “And that is what will happen if Jesus is arrested and 
 tried.” 
 
 “That will depend upon who his judges are.” 
 
 “Who will they be?” 
 
 “Tt is impossible to say. I do not know before what court 
 he would be brought. Your own countrymen will accuse him 
 and try him. But your country is not free as you Hebrews 
 all long to see it. The final judgment might be given by 
 Herod or it might be given by. Pilate.” 
 
 “Supposing it were Pilate that gave it, could not you make 
 him see that Jesus is upright and pure and ought to go free?” 
 
 “No,” said Marcus, after a little reflection, “I could not do 
 that. When I went to him to intercede for you and Shobek, 
 I gave him my opinion of Jesus. I told him I believed Jesus 
 to be blameless and no menace to the Roman power. Further 
 than that I cannot go.” 
 
 “Was it not your influence that made him pardon Shobek 
 and me?” 
 
 “Partly. Yet I could have done nothing for you had you 
 not so fortunately fought for Roman soldiers against a band 
 
414. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 of thieves. Because you did that, the good word I said for 
 you sank deep into Pilate’s mind. But if I have any influence 
 with him, it is because I have never been officious and meddle- 
 some. If I had been constantly trying to force my views upon 
 him just because my father is the prefect of Rome, I should 
 only have turned him against me.” 
 
 “Is he a Just man?” 
 
 “Judge him by his own actions as governor of this country. 
 How do you interpret them?” 
 
 “That even when viewed most favorably they show that 
 he can be harsh and cruel.” 
 
 “You have a right to view them so. Yet I can assure you 
 that he has no love of cruelty. He is sometimes stern. Justice 
 has often to be that. But like every true Roman he has a 
 deep respect for justice, and he would not willingly do an 
 unjust or a merciless deed. He found it a little hard to think 
 he ought to pardon you and Shobek, but in the end he took 
 real pleasure in doing it.” 
 
 “Could he be just if it cost him the goodwill of those he 
 wished to please?” 
 
 “Frankly, I doubt that. Pilate is at heart rather a timid 
 man.” 
 
 “Yet you will not try to give him strength?” 
 
 “No. For the reasons I have named.” 
 
 “A very wonderful and holy life may be at stake.” 
 
 “But if Jesus has been sent by Jehovah, why will he not 
 have the protection of Jehovah, like your blameless men and 
 prophets of long ago?” 
 
 “Tt is many hundfed years since the power of Jehovah has 
 been so revealed.” 
 
 “Yet are you not hoping that it will be again revealed and 
 that through its workings Jesus will be lifted into an unheard 
 of greatness?” 
 
 “Y cannot deny that that is my ardent hope.” 
 
 “You even think, do you not, that not by the sword and 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 415 
 
 pitched battle but by miracles, the hosts who oppose Jesus 
 will be annihilated?” 
 
 “Yes, I do think exactly that. Jesus does not resist his 
 enemies, he evades them. With his own hand he would hardly 
 use the sword. His temper and his counsels are mild. Yet 
 he sometimes rebukes sin in a strain of grandeur and speaks 
 of coming woe and tribulation as one might who was himself 
 to bring about mighty convulsions and stormy times.” 
 
 “Tf he has been sent by Jehovah to work such changes, he 
 must surely be under the keeping of Jehovah.” 
 
 “It would seem so. You are perhaps right and you, a 
 Roman, might well tax me with a lack of faith in the God I 
 have worshipped since I was a child. But remember, I have 
 come directly from the places where his enemies are bitter, 
 resolute and active. My very anxiety makes me see danger 
 and fills me with uneasiness. I should feel that Israel’s last 
 hope was gone should Jesus now come to his death.” 
 
 “Perhaps his death would only be the beginning of the good 
 he was sent to accomplish.” 
 
 “That is a strange thought.” 
 
 “Strange, yet almost justified by your own prophets as I 
 have read them.” 
 
 “Yes, and Merari seems sometimes to have the same vision 
 of what is to be. Yet I cannot see things so. Moses and 
 Joshua and David and Elijah wrought what they did for 
 Israel through their lives and not through their deaths. But 
 Jehovah’s will be done. I cannot really believe that the life 
 of Jesus is to be’ sacrificed before he accomplishes that will. 
 And [I shall presently go back to Jerusalem to serve him in 
 any way I can. That I am sure is what Jehovah wishes of 
 me. I have failed myself, but Jesus cannot fail.” 
 
 “No,” said Marcus, as they parted. “That pure and 
 blameless life surely cannot fail to do that for which it was 
 brought into the world.” 
 
416 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IV 
 
 Slowly and thoughtfully Zatthu went from his interview 
 with Marcus toward the house of Aristarchus. How would 
 these staunch, tried friends receive him? 'They might well 
 show coolness, for he had not fulfilled his promise that he 
 would come to them from time to time. Not once had he been 
 near them since the brief visit he had made directly after being 
 pardoned by Pilate. Could he make them feel that he appre- 
 ciated their unvarying kindness in the face of this seeming 
 indifference? 
 
 Before going to the house itself he sought the olive tree that 
 commanded the waters of Gennesaret. Here he half hoped 
 that he should find the little maid with whom he had such 
 a pleasant and, it might be said, such an illuminating talk. 
 Perhaps she was no longer little. Nearly a year had passed 
 since she had so suddenly revealed herself to him under the 
 olive, and maids grow fast beneath the warm oriental skies. 
 He would be sorry to find her taller and more mature, for her 
 artlessness had been her charm. But the olive was sheltering 
 no one, so after sitting at its foot for a while and thinking 
 over all the stirring and deep experiences that had come to 
 him since he first entered Capernaum, he directed his steps to 
 the house. 
 
 The greeting that Aristarchus gave him roused in him a 
 feeling of chagrin. Not a trace of resentment, no charges of 
 neglect or ingratitude; nothing but unstinted hospitality and 
 warm affection. Such friendliness he had not earned. 
 
 “You must have quite a story to tell,” said the Greek after 
 he had expressed his delight in seeing him again. “My wife 
 and daughter will want to hear all that you have seen and 
 done — yes, and Shobek too. I will send word to them all to 
 come into the atrium and you shall meet them and talk to 
 them there.” 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 417 
 
 In the atrium they gathered and there Zatthu again found 
 friendly eyes beaming upon him and heard words of heartiest 
 welcome. And yet he missed something that he found his 
 heart was craving yet had no right to ask for or expect. 
 Xenodice was unfeignedly cordial though she did remind him 
 of the months that had passed since they had seen him; Sho- 
 bek’s joy was unbounded; but Thisoa—there was that in 
 her manner that made him think of a flower closing its petals 
 in spite of her kindly tones and her frank and friendly gaze. 
 In that moment he seemed to see, as through curtains parted 
 for a moment, that something in a woman’s soul that can 
 never be expressed in words. 
 
 “You make me ashamed,” he said, after the greetings had 
 been interchanged. “I have not kept my promise. I have let 
 month after month go by without coming near you. And yet 
 you receive me with the same warm-hearted generosity that 
 you showed me when I was a condemned and hunted man. 
 
 “Yes, you make me ashamed, much more ashamed than I 
 should be if you showered me with the reproaches I have 
 merited. But it is not ingratitude and it is not indifference 
 that has kept me away. When I was here almost a year ago 
 and told you I would come and report my doings to you now 
 and then, I honestly meant to do so. I wanted to do so, for 
 your kindness has made this home the sweetest spot to me 
 upon the earth. 
 
 “But I am a Hebrew and you cannot understand all that 
 that means. I have told you that before and I must tell it to 
 you now again. My people has the passion to be free. What 
 a deep, burning, aching passion it is, you cannot know. 
 Greece has had her day of glory. A great and noble day it 
 was, but it ended and your countrymen do not look for it 
 again. ‘They live on under Roman rule and never even dream 
 of sweeping it aside. And so too have we Hebrews had our 
 day of glory. But our sun set only to rise again. We have 
 the promise that it shall rise again and with a splendor that 
 
418 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 the world has never known. And I have been watching for 
 that sun to rise. As you know, I was deluded into believing 
 that I, myself, was the herald of this wonderful bright-flaming 
 dawn. I was cured of my folly. I was humbled. I was sick 
 with self-reproach and a sense of shame. ‘Those were the 
 feelings that were still strongest in me when I parted from you 
 ten long months ago. 
 
 “But even then the light was beginning to scatter the clouds 
 that darkened my sky. That light, as you well know, came 
 from the man who raised me from death to life, even from 
 Jesus of Nazareth. And the light grew brighter and brighter 
 as the days passed by. It banished every cloud. It flooded 
 my very soul. Much of this time I have been following the 
 steps of Jesus, I have been listening to his speech, I have been 
 noting the deeds he did and measuring both words and deeds 
 with those of our leaders and prophets of the ancient days. 
 Doing this, I have seemed to look into this man’s soul, and 
 surely there never was a soul more fit to be Jehovah’s dwell- 
 ing-place. Once as I lay awake at night there flashed into 
 my mind a verse from one of our Psalms: ‘I will not give sleep 
 to mine eyes or slumber to mine eyelids till I find a place for 
 Jehovah, an habitation for the mighty God of Jacob.’ And 
 with an awed and startled feeling I thought to myself that 
 this man Jesus had been preparing for the mighty Jehovah 
 even such an habitation. And He ts dwelling there, yes He, 
 the God of Jacob, is abiding there as nowhere else on all the 
 earth. 
 
 “Tf He dwells there it is to give light to the world. The 
 light is coming. Oh, I feel that it is coming, and for it I have 
 been watching and am watching still, even as one who has sat 
 in a desert all through a black and stormy night and sighed 
 for the morning. My soul is on fire with this fierce passionate 
 longing. I carry it into my sleep. If I wake I find it burning 
 within me. When daylight comes, it rules me and drives out 
 all other thoughts. Only think of it! After hundreds of 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 419 
 
 years Jerusalem will be the mistress of all the world and all 
 the nations shall flock to her and behold her glory. And bet- 
 ter than all, the idols that are everywhere so blindly wor- 
 shipped shall be thrown down and every knee shall bow to the 
 mighty Jehovah. 
 
 “But not easily shall all this come to pass. Jesus has ene- 
 mies. The very ones who should lift him into power and honor 
 are his bitterest foes. As you doubtless know, he has for some 
 time been teaching and healing in and about Jerusalem; and 
 there the priests and Pharisees——to my shame I say it — 
 have turned against him. Under the lead of Caiaphas, the 
 high priest, they are seeking to destroy him. Vainly have I 
 tried to turn Caiaphas from this wicked purpose. My words 
 only roused him to wrath. So I have been to Marcus to beg 
 his intercession. I have, indeed, just come from him. But 
 he tells me he is powerless to interfere. So Jesus must find 
 his protection in what support can be given him by his own 
 disciples and by the many who like myself would give our lives 
 for him at any time. 
 
 “But I must not forget that you are Greeks and cannot 
 share this deep passion of my people to see Jerusalem the mis- 
 tress of the world. The strength of my feelings has made me 
 talk too long. Forgive me.” 
 
 “You never talk too long,” said Aristarchus. “Never have 
 you failed to interest us profoundly when you have told us 
 either of your experiences or of your hopes. We thoroughly 
 respect your feeling even if we cannot share it — though per- 
 haps we share it more fully than you realize. But while I 
 should hate to chill your fervent patriotism, I cannot help 
 asking you whether your people can rise to a position of 
 power and greatness when they are so divided. How can 
 Jesus unite them and make them into a mighty nation when 
 some of them would die for him while those who ought to be 
 his staunchest allies are eager to put him out of the way?” 
 
 “A natural query; but such has been our history. From 
 
420 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 the time when Moses led my people out of Egypt they have 
 been rebellious and easily moved to worship strange gods. 
 Yet such as they are, Jehovah chose them to be his people. 
 By signs and wonders He can turn them from dissension and 
 faithlessness to faith, even as He did by thunder and lightning 
 and thick cloud at Sinai. In a moment He could so declare 
 Himself that the very ones who have scorned Jesus and pro- 
 nounced him a blasphemer would follow in his train and shout 
 Hosanna.” 
 
 “May your hopes come true. But can you not absent your- 
 self from Judea for a time and linger with us long enough to 
 let us really know you again I should be grieved if you still 
 refused my hospitality.” 
 
 “For a few days I will tarry with you, if you wishit. Jesus 
 is just now shunning the places where his enemies are laying 
 snares for him. He has left Jerusalem and will not return 
 there, I feel sure, till the time of the Feast of the Passover. 
 Then things of mighty moment may be said and done. I must 
 be there before the Feast takes place.” 
 
 A long conversation followed, in the course of which Zatthu 
 was questioned about all the scenes and happenings that had 
 been of peculiar interest during the time that he had spent 
 in Judea. He answered willingly and the old relation of 
 friendly, confidential intercourse was again to a large degree 
 established. 
 
 To a large degree— yet Thisoa was not what she had been 
 in those early days of their acquaintance. She had then been 
 the sympathetic friend and adviser, listening to Zatthu’s 
 plans, sharing his enthusiasm and sometimes giving him sage 
 counsel or needed encouragement. Now she was deeply inter- 
 ested in all that he had to say; his unreserved belief in Jesus 
 drew a warm response from her; the plots of Caiaphas and 
 the priestly party filled her too with manifest concern. But 
 the glowing youthful ardor and the animation that was so 
 unfailing and so contagious had disappeared. There was 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 421 
 
 now underneath every expression of sympathy and feeling a 
 deep womanly reserve. The wit and the sparkle that had 
 given a wondrous charm to her presence were quite gone. 
 
 What was the meaning of the change, Zatthu could not help 
 wondering when he found himself alone. Yet if he raised the 
 question his own heart told him how to answer it. It told him 
 too that, considering the real depth of his own feeling, he had 
 done well in absenting himself so long after hearing little 
 Naomi’s revelations under the olive tree. 
 
422 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 V 
 
 Still Zatthu did not make it his one purpose to declare to 
 Thisoa how fully she had won his heart. It was in part his 
 very self-reproach that prevented him from doing so. To 
 have cherished so strong a feeling and to have neither made it 
 known nor even shown himself in person through ten long 
 months could but seem in Thisoa’s eyes an almost unforgiv- 
 able wrong. So at any rate he reasoned. But then, does any 
 man realize how much a woman is ready to forgive if she has 
 the positive assurance that she is loved? 
 
 Thinking as he did, Zatthu occupied himself for two or 
 three days in visiting his old-time acquaintances in Caper- 
 naum and learning anew their attitude toward the man who 
 had become the one commanding figure in Palestine. So he 
 went about among the very Pharisees to whom two years 
 before he had presented his own claims to leadership, and 
 sought how far they had come to see, not in him but in Jesus, 
 the hope of the Hebrew nation. 
 
 It was as an inquirer, not as a proselyte, that he went. He 
 deemed it best to control his ardent spirit of discipleship. To 
 display it might only bring jeers and scoffs. So he made his 
 quest in patience — and with almost no satisfaction. A very 
 few of the Pharisees, unwilling though they were to bring 
 odium on themselves by asserting their views freely and em- 
 phatically, were yet ready to see in Jesus the promised Mes- 
 siah. Most of them however viewed him with the scorn that 
 he had kindled in their own class at Jerusalem. 
 
 At the end of the third day of this discouraging quest. Zat- 
 thu went back to the house of Aristarchus in a sober mood. 
 He was not disheartened. As he had told the household of 
 Aristarchus, Jehovah could by a wondrous revelation of his 
 own spirit make it plain that Jesus was sent by Him and make 
 his very enemies his staunchest followers. But still it was dis- 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 423 
 
 quieting to see those who should be the leaders at this great 
 time shut their eyes so determinedly to the light. 
 
 So feeling he entered the house, made his way into the 
 atrium and found Thisoa there as he had more than once 
 found her in those old days of their free and friendly inter- 
 course. With the same smile that had given him hope and 
 courage then when he was himself disconsolate, she now wel- 
 comed him. He seated himself by her side and with an answer- 
 ing smile began, 
 
 “It is a very pleasant feeling that comes to me as I find 
 you sitting here. I can but think of those days when your 
 father first took me in and when I came back here to get 
 courage and sympathy from you after sounding the minds of 
 my own people.” 
 
 The smile vanished from Thisoa’s face. With deep gravity 
 she said, 
 
 “It seems strange that I was more ready even than many 
 of your nation to believe in you and the call you felt you had 
 from the Most High — yet so it was.” 
 
 “TY wonder why it was.” 
 
 Thisoa still looked grave, but did not meet his eye, and did 
 not speak. 
 
 “Did my enthusiasm make you believe in me?” 
 
 “T certainly did not doubt that it was genuine.” 
 
 “Have you ever doubted it?” 
 
 **No, never.” 
 
 “Yet you had to see that it was mistaken.” 
 
 “Ves, I think I saw it a good while before you did.” 
 
 “What made you see it?” 
 
 “Jesus of Nazareth. I had to believe that he was truly 
 sent by your Jehovah. Then I knew that your call was not 
 from above.” 
 
 “In other words you knew that I was misguided, led astray 
 by my own vanity, filled with a foolish and selfish ambition to 
 
424 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 be as great a leader as the old time prophets and saviors of 
 my nation.” 
 
 “Oh, not so! not so! Your ambition was not a selfish one. 
 It was generous and noble.” 
 
 “It is generous in you to think so. But I have learned to 
 see myself as I am, and the light has come to me, as it came 
 to you, from Jesus of Nazarath.” 
 
 “Is he to give light to all the world?” 
 
 “Yes, if the world will receive it. But it is not a light that 
 it is altogether pleasant to receive. It is inflaming the priests 
 and the Pharisees at Jerusalem with wrath and hatred. I re- 
 sisted it for a long time, as you know.” 
 
 “Yes, and I helped you to do so, for I too was blind then. 
 I told you that Jesus was but for a day, while you were to 
 break the Roman yoke and give your country a commanding 
 place among the nations of the world. I have sometimes been 
 ashamed that I helped to mislead you.” 
 
 “It had to be. My pride was strong. It made me vain and 
 presumptuous. It had to be broken.” 
 
 Here Zatthu stopped as if not knowing what to say next, 
 while Thisoa sat motionless and waited for him to go on. 
 Presently he continued, speaking slowly and not trying to 
 catch Thisoa’s eye. 
 
 ‘But it has been broken, thoroughly and completely broken. 
 I am a humbled man and a much changed one. My old am- 
 bition is gone; my ways of thinking are all changed.” 
 
 Again there were a few moments of silence. Zatthu seemed 
 to be painfully groping his way and Thisoa, sympathizing 
 much, felt deeply that she must not even try to help him. He 
 was humiliating himself, but in his very humiliation he was 
 deepening her regard. Finding words again after a time, 
 he said, 
 
 “Believing myself raised up to free my people, I kept that 
 aim single and undivided in my heart. I let but one thought, 
 one affection reign there—love of my bruised and bleeding 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 425 
 
 country. If a man’s deep native yearnings for a home and 
 all that makes a home ever rose in me, I stifled them. In- 
 stantly, utterly I stifled them lest they should weaken and 
 betray my cherished purpose. 
 
 “But they were sometimes felt, for I am but a man; and 
 once they were stirred so powerfully in me that I became 
 alarmed. It was just before I had those last unhappy experi- 
 ences that broke me down and would have brought about my 
 death if it had not been for you. 
 
 *““Shobek, Kelita and myself were to pass the night in a 
 shepherd’s hut on a mountain side near Safed. After night- 
 fall I went alone to the top of the mountain and there I caught 
 the gleam of Gennesaret in the distance, and instantly there 
 arose in me a mighty longing for your home— yes, and for 
 you. The memory of what passed between us in this very 
 spot rushed in upon me like a flood. What strength you then 
 put into my heart! What a rich full sympathy you gave to 
 me and the cause I then thought holy! Yes, but I still 
 thought it was holy, and that conviction gave me a bitter 
 hour. It made me feel my longing for you was a sin against 
 Jehovah; and so, wearily and painfully, I put it away. To 
 my country and my country’s God belonged my utter abso- 
 lute devotion. 
 
 “But soon I was broken, betrayed, hurt and dying. 
 Through your appeal to Jesus of Nazareth I was brought 
 from death to life, and ever since I have known deep in my 
 heart that I belonged to you. But I have belonged to Jesus 
 also. I have had to seek him out and follow him and study 
 him to know myself. And since I have looked into his eyes 
 and heard his voice, I have come to know myself. And it is 
 not a self that I am proud of. That I have said already. I 
 say it again with a deep sense of shame. I, vain, misguided, 
 elated by false ambition, scoffed at Jesus of Nazareth and 
 set myself above him. Now I know him to be holy and I am 
 not worthy to be even the least among his followers. Yes, 
 
426 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Thisoa, I am broken in spirit and all unworthy; but I am 
 yours if you wish me to belong to you— yes, always and 
 eternally yours.” 
 
 He ceased and with throbbing heart waited for an answer ; 
 but no answer came. He looked ardently at the woman whose 
 very presence thrilled him, but no answering gaze met his own. 
 Silent and with eyes steadily downcast Thisoa sat motionless 
 and betrayed no sign of feeling. He had himself to break the 
 silence which every moment smote his heart with a deeper 
 pain. 
 
 “'Thisoa,” he exclaimed at last humbly and sorrowfully, 
 “has my pleading been allin vain? I can but feel that it has. 
 Your silence tells me so. But let me hear it from your own 
 lips. Do not be afraid of hurting me. I see I was wrong in 
 offering you such a poor and broken life. You deserve some- 
 thing better, infinitely better. Do not hesitate to tell me that 
 ITerred. I will put away my grief, bless Jehovah, that He has 
 let me know you, and hope that He will give you the happi- 
 ness your noble generous heart deserves.” 
 
 But it was no unresponsive look that Thisoa then gave him. 
 Clasping his hand and gazing unshrinkingly upon him while 
 her eyes filled with tears, she said softly, 
 
 “Do you not know why I could not answer you at once?” 
 
 “No, Thisoa. ‘Tell me why.” 
 
 “It was because my feeling was so deep. I did not know 
 how to express it. And even now I do not know.” 
 
 “Do not try, Thisoa. I understand. Words could not 
 tell me more.” 
 
 Thisoa heaved a long sigh of deep full satisfaction, again 
 cast her eyes down, and with hands tightly clasped the two 
 sat silent and contented for a while. It was Thisoa who first 
 spoke again. 
 
 “No,” she said, “words are not really necessary, and yet 
 there is much to say. Yes, very much to say. For I cannot 
 have you think it is a poor and broken life you give me. It is 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 427 
 
 its very poverty —if it is right to use such a word — that 
 makes it worthy in my eyes. You are not broken, Zatthu. 
 You are humbled. Your pride has been broken. But from 
 the wreck and ruin of a mistaken though a generous ambition, 
 you have risen to be the truest and the noblest man in all 
 the world.” 
 
 “No, no, Thisoa! You must not say that. You must not 
 think it. Jesus of Nazareth is so holy, so high above me and 
 above us all, that I bow before him and know myself to be but 
 as the very dust.” 
 
 “It is because you so bow yourself that I love and honor 
 you. Ah, how greatly I admired and honored you when you 
 felt yourself to be your nation’s hope and were eager to make 
 her free. But you failed. Through this very Jesus of Naza- 
 reth you failed, for he had won the people’s hearts and they 
 were shut to you. And then, instead of burning with wrath 
 against this holy august figure who had been the means of 
 humbling you, you saw in him the light that you had fervently 
 believed was to shine upon Juda through you. And so you 
 abased yourself and followed him.” 
 
 “How else could I have done? He healed me. He raised 
 me from death to life.” 
 
 “You could not have done else, for you are Zatthu, my own 
 Zatthu, in whose love I glory and whom [I love with all my 
 heart and will follow to the end of the world. No, you could 
 do nothing else, for you are true, true, true. You were true 
 to your cause, while you thought it was Jehovah’s. You are 
 true now to Jesus of Nazareth and you will be true to him, 
 whatever storms may break upon his head. It is such truth | 
 that wins a woman’s heart. You have won mine, Zatthu. It 
 is all yours. It is always and eternally yours, even as you 
 said that yours was mine.” 
 
 It was Zatthu now who was too deeply moved to speak. So 
 silence again fell upon the two. The heart of each was full 
 of an exquisite happiness that was too deep for words. 
 
428 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Yes,” said Zatthu after a while, “it was Jesus of Nazareth 
 who defeated my ambition; it was he who healed me; it is he 
 who now has my devotion — and he it is who has really given 
 us to each other. Had he not come, I might now be leading 
 my countrymen against the Roman legions, my thought 
 wholly upon conquest, and far, far away from you. But 
 Jesus came. He has made everything so different. He has 
 brought us together; we owe our happiness to him; we must 
 think of him even before ourselves.” 
 
 “Tt is even so that I have been thinking of him, Zatthu. I 
 have thought of him in that way ever since I looked into his 
 eyes upon the mountain top and felt his hand upon my head.” 
 
 ‘And he needs me even now. I am sure heneeds me. Those 
 storms you spoke of are about to break. I must go to Jerusa- 
 lem and thwart his enemies. You would not have me stay?” 
 
 “No, Zatthu. You must go and stand at his side. Our 
 happiness can wait.” 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 429 
 
 VI 
 
 “T did not suppose I was acquiring a gardener and a son- 
 in-law when you saved me from the robbers. If the hunchback 
 had lived, no doubt I should have adopted him, for he was 
 very apt at binding up a wound. Well, Jehovah’s will be 
 done. That is the way you look at it, and I acquiesce.” 
 
 Such was Aristarchus’ reply when Zatthu told him what 
 had passed between Thisoa and himself and earnestly craved 
 the sanction of the kindly Greek. 
 
 “But I hope you can do more than acquiesce. I hope you 
 can approve with all your heart even though I am not of your 
 land and blood.” 
 
 “Hope! Hope! That is a strange word to come from the 
 mouth of a countryman of Moses and Solomon. You lordly 
 people think you are superior to all the dwellers on the earth. 
 If your pride had not been shattered, you would have come 
 to me in a condescending mood and informed me of the vast 
 favor you were conferring upon me instead of hoping for my 
 approval. But of course I approve. Are you not my guest- 
 friend? Did you not save my life? There is not a man living 
 to whom I would more gladly have seen my daughter give her 
 heart. She has been the light of my home. Her mother and I 
 shall miss her sorely. But we want her happiness above all 
 things, and that you will make her happy I have not the 
 shadow of a doubt.” 
 
 “And your wife, you think, will share your own generous 
 confidence?” 
 
 “TY am sure of it. Sheis well trained. That spirited girl of 
 mine has had her own way with both of us ever since she was 
 old enough to call us Father and Mother. Wasn’t that made 
 plain to you when she hid you under the rose bushes?” 
 
 Zatthu smiled and admitted that Thisoa’s will seemed 
 always to make itself felt in the household. ‘‘But then,” he 
 
430 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 added slyly, “it is because it is such a wise will that it is 
 heeded.” 
 
 “To be sure. We discovered that before she was three 
 years old and I am glad you have found it out. It will make 
 life easier for you. But my wife shall speak for herself. I 
 will conduct you to her.” 
 
 Xenodice’s approval was as hearty and unreserved as that 
 of her husband, and the pang that the thought of the inevi- 
 table parting gave her was not revealed. Of course she was 
 not surprised when Zatthu was brought before her; nor was 
 she surprised when Thisoa gave her her full confidence im- 
 mediately after the two lovers had revealed their hearts to 
 each other. The mother had long since read her daughter’s 
 secret. She had read, but she had kept her own counsel; for 
 Thisoa had never spoken of her deep emotion even though she 
 realized that her mother understood. That the emotion 
 would ever be gratified, Xenodice had gravely doubted; for 
 the strange vicissitudes through which Zatthu had renounced 
 his own ambition and beccme a humble believer in Jesus of 
 Nazareth, she had not been able to foresee. Nor would she 
 have seen a wholly admirable husband for her daughter in 
 Zatthu, the proud Pharisee, Zatthu, the zealous champion of 
 Hebrew ritual, Zatthu, the defiant leader of a puny nation 
 against the invincible might of Rome. But this chastened 
 man who had so deeply humbled himself had become exalted in 
 her eyes. She had admired him when he had been the fiery 
 
 enthusiast; she now viewed him with a warmer and a more 
 profound regard. 
 
 “But must you really leave us now?” she asked when she 
 had made Zatthu realize the warmth of her feeling for him. 
 “You are making Thisoa so happy that I am sorry indeed to 
 have you go.” 
 
 “Yes, I must go. The future has long happy days for us. 
 But Jesus calls me now.” 
 
 ‘And he calls me too,” said Aristarchus. “I shall go with 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 431 
 
 you to Jerusalem and take Shobek with me. Busy man that 
 I am, I have thought first of my own concerns and have never 
 sought this carpenter’s son who has stirred all Judea and 
 brought upen himself the hatred of its bigoted priests. I 
 know how bigoted they are. I believe he is in danger from 
 them.” | 
 
 “But can you protect him?” inquired Zatthu. 
 
 “No, and I have not thought of trying. It would be pre- 
 sumptuous in me to do so. I simply go to see him, for his end 
 may be near. Marcus, not I, must give him protection.” 
 
 “TI have urged Marcus to do so, but he refuses. He says 
 his power and influence do not extend so far. Nor is he ready 
 to believe that the life of Jesus is really threatened.” 
 
 “Marcus always thinks prudently and wisely. Very likely 
 he is right. But, right or wrong, I believe he ought to be in 
 Jerusalem and see what may take place. I will go now and 
 invite him to accompany us.” 
 
 Very soon Aristarchus brought back word that the cen- 
 turion had readily consented to go with them; and the follow- 
 ing morning they all set forth for Jerusalem. 
 
432 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 VII 
 
 It was ten days before the Feast of the Passover that the 
 four—for Shobek was one of the company as Aristarchus 
 had said he should be—started for King David’s city. 
 Anxiety reigned straightway in the homes they left behind 
 them. 
 
 It was the anxiety of apprehension, which is always hard 
 to bear; and it was most keenly felt by Thisoa. That any 
 disaster could befall Marcus or Aristarchus was not to be 
 supposed; but Thisoa could not help wondering whether 
 Zatthu might not be drawn into defending Jesus against 
 armed assault and shedding his blood for him. That he 
 would do this should the need arise, she did not for a moment 
 doubt. 
 
 Would the need arise? Again and again she visited Naa- 
 rah to consider with her this disturbing question. All the 
 more frequently and eagerly she went because of the deeply 
 affectionate greeting her new-found happiness was sure to 
 call forth from this sympathizing friend. But Naarah was 
 as powerless as Thisoa to pierce the future’s veil. 
 
 “T am no prophetess,” she said to her visitant one day. 
 “My heart tells me that great things are even now happening 
 at Jerusalem; but what they are, I know no more than you.” 
 
 “But you are a Hebrew. You have lived from childhood 
 in the Hebrew tradition. Does that say nothing to you?” 
 
 “YT wish it did, dear Thisoa,” answered Naarah, smiling 
 faintly. “I can read your heart and I know what you want 
 me to say. But really I have little idea whether the followers 
 of Jesus will take up arms and whether Zatthu will be one of 
 them.” 
 
 “What do you think, Naarah?” 
 
 “What do you yourself think, bearing in mind all that 
 Mary told us about her son?” 
 
 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 433 
 
 “That around him there could never be the awfulness of 
 battle, men killing each other in mad rage, the earth reddened 
 with their blood, the air filled with shouts of agony and hate 
 — yes, that is what I think.” 
 
 ‘And that is what I think too, Thisoa.” 
 
 “But what, then, will save Jesus from his enemies ?”’ 
 
 “Jehovah, who saved Moses and Elisha and Daniel long 
 ago.” 
 
 “By sword and flame? By flood? By an angel of Death?” 
 
 “TY do not know. But before the mountains were brought 
 forth; before He had formed the earth and the world; even 
 from everlasting to everlasting He is God.” 
 
 “And Jesus was sent by Him; so Jesus must be under his 
 protection. Yes, it would seem as if that must be our hope, 
 our only hope.” 
 
 But the hope was not sure enough to quiet Thisoa’s dread. 
 To her friend Naomi she therefore went one day to see if she 
 could gain help from the child’s trusting spirit. And trusting 
 indeed she found it. Naomi was still a child in the simplicity 
 of her faith. 
 
 “But who could wish to hurt Jesus?” she asked when Thisoa 
 told her the fears that preyed upon her heart. ‘He is so kind 
 he would make his enemies love him.” 
 
 “Was not David kind to King Saul? And yet Saul tried 
 to kill him.” 
 
 “But it was not Saul that wanted to do that. It was an 
 evil spirit that was in him.” 
 
 “T am afraid a great many men have evil spirits in them 
 that make them do wicked things.” 
 
 “But Jesus can cast all the evil spirits out. Isn’t that one 
 of the things he came to do?” 
 
 “T believe it is, dear Naomi. Perhaps he will do it. But 
 I fear it will take a great deal longer than you think.” 
 
 It was in a wondering mood that Thisoa went away from 
 her little friend. Had she learned another lesson from this 
 
4384 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 child’s unquestioning trust? Had Naomi better than her 
 elders divined why Jesus had come into the world? <A healer 
 of the body, was he even more a healer of the soul? More and 
 more as the years passed would he drive evil out of the hearts 
 of men? A mighty question. Only Jehovah, she thought, 
 could surely answer it. Only Jehovah, for Thisoa had come 
 to believe as devoutly as Zatthu and Naarah and Marcus in 
 the God of Israel. 
 
 Sooner than she had. dared to hope word came back from 
 Jerusalem, and it was her father that brought it. The day 
 before the Passover he unexpectedly appeared. Thisoa flew 
 to meet him as soon as she learned he was in the house, and 
 asked eagerly, 
 
 ‘“‘What news do you bring, dear father? Is it good or 
 bad?” 
 
 Aristarchus looked at her with a quizzical smile as he re- 
 plied, 
 
 “T left Zatthu safe and well. So far the news is good. As 
 to the rest, let us go to your mother and then I will tell my 
 story.” 
 
 But Aristarchus was slow to begin when the three were 
 seated together and Thisoa had to draw him out by a ques- 
 tion. 
 
 ‘“Have you any news that is not good, father dear? You 
 said Zatthu was safe and well. What of Jesus?” 
 
 “What of Jesus? That is a question I find it hard to 
 answer. It is a question all the people in this Hebrew land 
 are asking now and they are answering it in many, many 
 ways. I can say that no ill had come to him when I left 
 Jerusalem; but beyond that I can make no answer that could 
 give you any deep and full satisfaction. What I have seen 
 and heard has impressed me deeply; but I am not a man of 
 words. So I will tell my story in plain and simple speech and 
 you must make of it what you can. 
 
 “On our way to Jerusalem we fell in with a few country- 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 435 
 
 men of mine and from that time on I kept company with them. 
 Shobek was with me, but I let Marcus and Zatthu go their 
 own ways. 
 
 “These Greeks, some of whom I already knew, were, like 
 Marcus, of the Hebrew faith and they were journeying to 
 Jerusalem to worship at the Passover. But that was not 
 their only purpose. Like me they were anxious to see Jesus. 
 
 “Reaching Jerusalem the sixth day before the Passover we 
 found he was at Bethany near by. It was there that he was 
 said to have given life to his friend Lazarus after he had lain 
 in the sepulchre four days. This was done only a short time 
 since and the crowds were flocking to Bethany, quite as much 
 to see this man who had been raised from the dead as to get 
 sight of Jesus himself. Indeed, so many were coming to be- 
 heve in Jesus because of this astonishing thing he was said to 
 have done, that the priests, so we were told, were tempted to 
 put Lazarus to death that he might not be a living witness to 
 Jesus’ miraculous power. 
 
 “To Bethany we did not go. My countrymen and I 
 agreed that to be the object of so many curious eyes might 
 not be altogether pleasant to Lazarus. Our one object was 
 to see Jesus himself and we were sure that he would soon 
 appear in Jerusalem. But we fell in with a man who went to 
 Bethany and he told us of a supper that was served in the 
 house of Lazarus to Jesus and other guests. To this house 
 Jesus has often resorted for rest and quiet, and Lazarus’ two 
 sisters, Martha and Mary, have ministered to him. At this 
 supper they were, as might be expected, present and Martha 
 looked to the needs of those who ate and drank. But Mary 
 showed the depth of her affection, of her devotion I might 
 say, by kneeling at Jesus’ feet while he sat at the table, anoint- 
 ing them with a very costly ointment that filled the room 
 with its fragrance, and wiping them with her hair. A waste, 
 protested one of Jesus’ disciples, for this omtment should have 
 been sold and the money given to the poor. ‘Let her alone,’ 
 
436 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 was Jesus’ answer, ‘against the day of my burial hath she 
 done this.’ 
 
 “The next day Jesus came to Jerusalem. As soon as this 
 was known, crowds of those who believed in him seized palm 
 branches and went to meet him, crying: ‘Hosanna! Blessed 
 is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of Jehovah.’ 
 
 “It was thus that he entered the city, like a king with 
 adoring subjects all around him though he was mounted on 
 an ass’s colt. Little chance there seemed for myself and my 
 fellow Greeks to get near him; but one of our number knew 
 Philip of Bethsaida who is of the twelve immediate and devoted 
 followers of Jesus. When we said to him that we would see 
 Jesus, he made known our wish to Jesus himself. The crowd 
 was parted and we stood in the presence of the man whom it 
 was the one deep desire of our hearts to see. 
 
 “Just for an instant he gazed at us and in that instant I 
 felt that he read our minds. We had come to measure him. 
 He knew it and the words that he spoke were an answer to the 
 request he saw written on our hearts. Wonderful words they 
 were, but I could not repeat them. Even if I could remember 
 them they would be meaningless coming from my mouth. In 
 them the man revealed himself, the greatness of his spirit, the 
 travail of his soul, the consciousness of his own power to lead 
 men and uplift them. He ended by raising his eyes upward 
 and crying: ‘Father, glorify Thy name.’ 
 
 “And this prayer was on the instant answered, for from 
 above there came a voice. Thunder, some called it; but it 
 was a voice, a voice that thrilled me though I could not under- 
 stand the words it uttered. But Jesus understood them and 
 was exalted by them; for he at once burst into a still loftier 
 and sublimer strain. It was a strain of prophecy, a strain of 
 triumph, and yet of sadness too. He seemed to be bidding fare- 
 well to the world, and yet he did not speak like a man who was 
 defeated and had lost his hope. Rather did he have a sure 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 437 
 
 sense that the end for which he had been living, whatever that 
 may be, was now accomplished. 
 
 “As soon as he had finished speaking he went away, and I 
 did not see him again. The next day I started homeward, so 
 I have no more to tell.” 
 
 “But why did you come away?” said Thisoa. ‘Why did 
 you not wish to stay and see what was to happen? Jesus is 
 surrounded by enemies, as every one knows, and you say he 
 seemed to be bidding farewell to the world.” 
 
 “It was because I thought his end was near that I did not 
 wish to stay. If the priestly party has its way, he will suffer 
 a cruel death— one that I shudder to think of. So I left 
 Shobek to bring further news. I had seen what I went to see. 
 It was enough.” 
 
 “You said you could not answer our question, What of 
 Jesus?” said Xenodice, “yet I feel that you have answered it 
 in your own mind. If you had not done so, would you have 
 come away so soon? So you must tell us what you really 
 think, my husband. Do you believe that Jesus is Messiah?” 
 
 “As to that, it is hard for me to believe or disbelieve. But 
 as I saw and heard him, I felt that his was the purest and 
 loftiest soul this earth has ever seen.” 
 
 “Then why do his own people hate him so?” asked Thisoa. 
 
 “In part because he claims so much.” 
 
 “Yet you do not on that account condemn him?” 
 
 “Far from it, strange as it may seem; for pretense has 
 always angered me. But when I heard Jesus put himself 
 above all other men I had a strange but deep conviction that 
 what he said was true.” 
 
 “Can you recall none of his words?” inquired Xenodice. 
 
 “Just one saying fixed itself in my mind: ‘If I be lifted up 
 I will draw all men unto me.’ ” 
 
 “What did he mean by that?” 
 
 “More perhaps than will be known till many, many days 
 have passed. But as I have thought about it, I have felt that 
 
438 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 he was speaking of his soul. Far above all other men in holi- 
 ness of life, he will by his example make them better.” 
 
 “Yes, his example might do that,” said Thisoa, “even if 
 they put him to death. But should they do so, how could he 
 be Messiah?” 
 
 “What is a Messiah supposed to do?” 
 
 “They think his task is to bring back the nation’s glory.” 
 
 “Perhaps they are wrong. Perhaps his work is to purify 
 their spirits and destroy their overweening pride.” 
 
 “How perplexing it allis! What a strange and wonderful 
 character he is and what amazing things he does! Do you 
 believe he gave life to Lazarus after he had been in the tomb 
 four days?” 
 
 “Does it seem incredible to you?” 
 
 “Oh, no! I could believe anything of the man whose face I 
 looked into on the mountain top.” 
 
 “JT, too, though not by nature credulous, could believe 
 almost anything of the power which cured Hacho, snatched 
 Zatthu from the very arms of death and brought back Naomi 
 to life. There must be some limit to what Jesus can do, but I 
 know not where it lies.” 
 
 “How strange that we who are Greeks should borrow our 
 faith from this alien people!” reflected Thisoa. 
 
 “Not so strange,’ resumed Aristarchus. ‘Those who are 
 initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries undoubtedly have 
 glimpses of truth that is pure, beautiful and uplifting. But 
 from the worship of the gods of my country I turned long 
 ago. ‘They do not seem real. They do not inspire in me any 
 feeling of reverence or devotion. I was thrilled sometimes by 
 Phidias’ great statue of Athene in the Parthenon; still more 
 was I awed the one time I looked up at his wondrous image of 
 Zeus at Olympia. But the feeling was a passing one, and was 
 called forth solely by the genius of the sculptor. Gold and 
 ivory do not make a god.” 
 
 “Great and noble men seemed to be raised up by our Greek 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 439 
 
 religion,” said Xenodice. “There was Socrates, perhaps the 
 
 grandest of them all.” 
 
 “Yes, Greece has had great men to make her deeds great, 
 her writings great, her philosophy great, though how far her 
 religion made them what they were it would be hard to say. 
 Of these there is none nobler than Socrates. Yet Jesus is a 
 higher and a holier figure than he.” 
 
 “What makes you feel so, father?” inquired Thisoa. 
 
 “Partly the very claims of Jesus, because when I heard 
 him make them they seemed to me true, as I have already told 
 you. Had Socrates made such he would have appeared ridicu- 
 lous. And that scene when the sister of Lazarus anointed 
 the feet of Jesus and wiped them with her hair kept coming to 
 my mind as I journeyed back from Jerusalem. I could not 
 help contrasting it with the scene between Socrates and his 
 wife on his last day in prison. She had come with her chil- 
 dren, his children they were, to say farewell. But his words 
 to her were hard and unfeeling. I see in Jesus a kindlier, a 
 tenderer and a holier nature than our great countryman pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 “But you must think it strange that I should talk in this 
 way —I who have all my life been silent about these great 
 questions of religion and immortality. The truth is, I have 
 been silent because I could not see the truth. I have always 
 been seeking it. Often have I wandered at night and looked 
 up at the stars to learn what they could tell me. But only 
 now have the questions of my soul been answered. Jehovah 
 who has so strangely made himself known to Israel is the one 
 true God, and Jesus —I can only say I believe this carpen- 
 ter’s son is nearer to Jehovah than any other man who has 
 ever lived.” 
 
 “Yet this,” said XNenodice, ‘fis the man whom his own coun- 
 trymen wish to kill. Oh, I almost wish you had stayed longer 
 in Jerusalem, so that you might bring us word of the things 
 that perhaps even now are happening.” 
 
440 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “Shobek will come ere long and tell us,” replied Aris- 
 tarchus. 
 
 ‘Yes, but what will he have to tell?” queried Thisoa. “Oh, 
 I cannot believe Jehovah will let this holy man be cruelly 
 sacrified. But may Shobek come soon. May he come soon.” 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 44] 
 
 VIII 
 
 Ten days passed before Shobek came — days which found 
 Aristarchus busy and tranquil but which passed slowly and 
 painfully to Xenodice and Thisoa. No matter to what house- 
 hold activity they turned, their thought was always dwelling 
 anxiously and wonderingly on what might be happening at 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 It was at noon on the eleventh day that Shobek arrived. 
 He went straight to Aristarchus, whom he found in the room 
 which he used as an office, said wearily, “It is all over,” and 
 sank into a chair. 
 
 “You mean that they have killed him?” 
 
 “Yes; crucified him.” 
 
 ‘When did it happen?” 
 
 “Day before yesterday.” 
 
 “You lost no time in coming to let us know of it.” 
 
 “No, I knew you would be anxious to hear. I started yes- 
 terday at noon, traveled far into the night, and easily made 
 the rest of the journey this morning.” 
 
 “You are tired. Go and eat and drink, and then we will 
 hear your story.” 
 
 “TI am sad at heart, but I am not tired and I have no desire 
 for food. I am ready now to tell you all I have seen.” 
 
 “Then I will bring my wife and daughter here and we will 
 hear what you have to say.” 
 
 Xenodice and Thisoa came eagerly and Shobek was bidden 
 to begin. 
 
 “My story is not a long one,” he said. “I could not make 
 it long; for it is a terrible thing I have to tell you of, and 
 you would not want me to dwell upon pain and agony. 
 
 “The priests, as you know, were determined to put Jesus 
 to death. One of his own disciples, Judas by name, betrayed 
 him to them the very night before the Passover. A body of 
 armed men arrested him and early in the morning he was 
 
442 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 taken before Pilate. Now Pilate has a strain of kindness and 
 mercy in him, as Zatthu and I can bear witness. He did not 
 want to condemn Jesus to death and he sent him to Herod, 
 claiming that it belonged to Herod rather than to himself to 
 judge him because Jesus was a Galilean. But Herod only 
 mocked him, arrayed him in a gorgeous robe and sent him 
 back to Pilate. 
 
 ‘So Pilate had to give judgment, loath as he was to do so. 
 He pronounced Jesus innocent and proposed to release him 
 because it was a custom of the Jews that an accused person 
 should be released at the Passover. ‘No, no,’ cried the Jews. 
 ‘Crucify Jesus and release’ — now who do you suppose it was 
 they wished released? (And here Shobek looked searchingly 
 at Aristarchus.) It was no other than that robber Barabbas, 
 who nearly brought about your death and with whom Zatthu 
 and I found shelter when Rome pressed us hard. Think of it! 
 Jesus, who has healed men, sent to the cross! Barabbas, who 
 has robbed and killed men, set at liberty ! 
 
 “But so it was. Pilate did not dare to resist the priests 
 and their party, for they told him that Jesus had declared 
 himself a king and this was treason to Cesar. So Pilate had 
 him scourged and crucified. | 
 
 “T saw him led to the hill of Golgotha where the dreadful 
 thing was done. He was made to carry his own cross and he 
 fainted it was so heavy. So a man from Cyrene in Africa, 
 Simon by name, was forced to bear it.” 
 
 “Why did you not carry it yourself, Shobek!” inquired 
 Aristarchus. “To you it would have been no burden.” 
 
 “Gladly would I have done so; but the sight of Jesus, de- 
 serted now by nearly every one, mocked and jeered at and 
 soon to be cruelly tortured, had almost overpowered me. So 
 I had dropped behind that my eyes might not rest upon this 
 dreadful sight of suffering and hatred, and the burden of the 
 cross was placed on Simon before I really knew what had 
 been done. 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 443 
 
 *“Nor near the spot where he was crucified was I able to lin- 
 ger long. I saw the crosses raised — it was about the third 
 hour — and there were three of them; for Jesus met this death 
 of agony and shame between two evil-doers. They were 
 marked only by their crimes; but over Jesus was placed this 
 inscription by the command of Pilate: This is the King of 
 the Jews. 
 
 “But a few days before crowds had flocked to meet him 
 with palm branches and hailed him with hosannas. Now he 
 was almost friendless. A group of women stood and watched 
 at a little distance. At the foot of the cross stood his mother 
 with two other women and one of his disciples, John by name, 
 whom it was said he greatly loved.” 
 
 ‘John!’ exclaimed Thisoa. ‘Why, he was the one who 
 was kind to me on the mountain and showed me how I could 
 find Jesus. Oh, what a kind, sweet face he had! I should 
 have known he would be true. But Peter was so eager to pro- 
 tect his master that he was harsh and would have me go 
 away.” 
 
 *‘And Peter was the one who failed his master when the 
 hour of trial came. Of that I shall speak before I finish my 
 story. It was John and the three women who stood faith- 
 fully at the cross, watched the long agony that they felt 
 cruelly, and waited for the end to come. That Jesus drew 
 some little comfort from their presence and their unfailing 
 affection, I could not but believe. But I did not know him; 
 I could do nothing for him; and it tried me so to see him 
 suffer that I went away and wandered through the city. 
 
 *“Restlessly and ceaselessly I wandered, for my heart was 
 heavy. And after a time a strange thing happened. About 
 the sixth hour it grew dark, and until the ninth hour the sun 
 was hid and the whole city plunged in night. At the ninth 
 hour came an earthquake that made everything tremble, and 
 the light of day came slowly back. Feeling that the end had 
 come, I went back to the hill of the crucifixion, and I found 
 
444 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 that it was even so. Jesus had expired when the earthquake 
 came. They had taken him down from the cross, and in the 
 evening one Joseph of Arimathea, first getting Pilate’s per- 
 mission, laid the body in his own new tomb. 
 
 “Such was the end of Jesus. Regarding him, I have noth- 
 ing more to tell. But I must recount to you what passed 
 between me and a man [ met when I started to roam about the 
 city. For that man was Barabbas. It was very near the 
 scene of the crucifixion that I fell in with him. He seemed to 
 have been drawn there irresistibly, as if compelled to witness 
 the suffering he had so narrowly escaped. 
 
 ** ‘Barabbas,’ I said, ‘you ought to be hanging there upon 
 the cross instead of that holy man. He has done nothing but 
 good in the world and you have done nothing but evil.’ 
 
 “He recognized me, shrugged his shoulders and replied: 
 ‘They set me free. I should have been a fool not to have made 
 the most of it.’ | 
 
 “At any rate you know you deserve the cross,’ I said. 
 ‘What evil thing did you do last?’ 
 
 “They called it insurrection. One of our band had been 
 captured and taken to Jerusalem. With several of my men 
 I went into the city and raised a street brawl to effect a 
 rescue. In the fray I killed a man, and though my comrades 
 got away, I was seized and put in prison.’ 
 
 “T looked hard at him and said: ‘One more murder. How 
 many altogether have you committed?’ 
 
 ‘Many. But my deeds are not all evil. You know that.’ 
 
 “ Ves,’ I said, ‘I know that. You sheltered Zatthu and 
 myself when the Romans almost had their hands upon us. 
 And I have never believed you played the traitor. Were you 
 in the plot to hand us over to the Romans?’ 
 
 ““*No. My hands are clear of that business. I so hate the 
 Romans that I admired your friend because he had made 
 them his enemies.’ 
 
 * “You are not all bad, Barabbas. You ought not to go 
 
 S — — ——E—— 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 4A5 
 
 back to the life you have led and do all the evil things to which 
 it forces you.’ 
 
 ***What else could I do?’ 
 
 **Tend sheep. Work in a vineyard. Plough and sow and 
 reap. Perform any useful labor. Look at that imnocent suf- 
 fering man upon the cross! By his death you have won your 
 life. Use it for better things than robbing and murdering.’ 
 
 “The sullen defiant look he had always worn seemed to pass 
 as I said this. ‘Perhaps I will. Perhaps I will,’ he mur- 
 mured, and walked away.” 
 
 ‘What a strange interview!” said Aristarchus. “What a 
 strange ending to an intercourse that began in a bloody fray, 
 was continued in a den of thieves and terminated near the 
 very cross on which this man who had both fought you and 
 sheltered you should have paid for his misdeeds with his life! 
 I suppose Zatthu would see the hand of Jehovah in it. Well, 
 he may be right. But go on with your story. What else hap- 
 pened before you left Jerusalem?” 
 
 “Nothing of moment. I was lodging, you know, with a 
 brother of my father’s, a fisherman who had long known Peter, 
 the disciple of Jesus. The next morning he went with me to 
 Peter, for he knew where to find him; and Peter showed him- 
 self a very penitent and utterly disheartened man. When 
 Jesus was arrested and taken to the palace of the high priest, 
 Peter went in too, to see what would take place. He had now 
 lost all heart and courage, and when he was accused of being 
 one of Jesus’ followers he denied that it was so. Hardly had 
 he done this before the very thing happened which Jesus, it 
 seems, had prophesied. A cock crew, and Peter, remembering 
 the prophecy, wept bitter tears of repentance. 
 
 ‘He was still lamenting his cowardice when we found him, 
 and with the death of Jesus all his hopes had perished. As 
 soon as he saw my uncle, he burst into a flood of tears, told 
 how recreant he had been, how sorry he was, and how hard it 
 was to go back to the old life after having felt so sure that a 
 
446 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 new and glorious day was dawning for Israel. But there was 
 nothing else left for him to do, and the very sight of my uncle 
 made him think of his Hs craft. The two » began to talk of 
 going a-fishing. 
 
 “So I bade them goodbye, and started for Capernaum. If 
 Jesus’ own follower felt that all was over, I could take no 
 other view. I had but one duty now, to come back and tell 
 you what I had seen; and as fast as I could, I made the jour- 
 ney hither.” 
 
 “Perhaps,” said Thisoa, “you might have been more hope- 
 ful if you had seen and talked with John instead of Peter. 
 And yet what hope could there be? It is all so strange and 
 so very, very sad!” 
 
 “Did Jesus’ followers offer no resistance when he was 
 arrested?” inquired Aristarchus. 
 
 “Peter did. It would seem that he had prepared himself 
 to defend his master by force; for he drew a sword which he 
 was carrying, and wounded one of the high priest’s servants. 
 But Jesus forbade further resistance. So his followers could 
 but stand peacefully by and see him led away.” 
 
 “What of Zatthu and Marcus?” inquired Xenodice. 
 **When did you see them last?” 
 
 “YT have seen very little of them. Zatthu of course has been 
 living in his own home and we did not meet often. I saw him 
 last at the crucifixion; but I was not near him and did not 
 try to speak to him. When I have run across him he has not 
 cared to talk freely with me. Not that there has been any 
 cloud upon our old intimacy. It is simply that his one 
 thought has been of Jesus. All of Jesus’ movements he has 
 followed closely, and I know that he has been working and 
 planning day and night to save him from his enemies. But 
 it was all in vain. It makes me sad to think of his grief and 
 disappointment. 
 
 “Of Marcus I have seen almost nothing. He has been much 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 4 AT 
 
 with Pilate, and that is all I know. I think he lodged at the 
 centurion’s quarters on Mount Zion.” 
 
 “You did well to come when you did, Shobek,” said Aris- 
 tarchus. ‘‘You have brought terrible tidings, but they were 
 not unexpected, and we were all anxious to know the truth. 
 Marcus and Zatthu will in due time tell us if there is still any 
 hope.” 
 
 ““But how could there be any hope?” said Xenodice. “It 
 would seem as if a man who performed such miracles as Jesus 
 did must have had Jehovah on his side and could have con- 
 founded and destroyed his enemies as the leaders of Israel 
 did of old. But he let himself be led to his death. The time for 
 his rise to greatness and for Israel’s deliverance has plainly 
 passed.” 
 
 “So it would seem,” said Aristarchus very slowly and de- 
 liberately. ‘So it would seem. But I cannot get out of my 
 mind that voice which answered Jesus when he said: ‘Father, 
 glorify Thy name.’ Was it Jehovah’s voice he heard? He 
 was sure that it was; that was manifest. And if he was 
 obeying Jehovah when he let himself be arrested and put to 
 death, it was for some great end.” 
 
 “T have believed in Jesus,” said Xenodice, “ever since Thi- 
 soa saw him on the mountain and Zatthu told us of his cure. 
 Yet his death makes me wonder; and that voice almost sounds 
 to me like a trick.” 
 
 “Had you seen the light on the face of Jesus,” replied 
 Aristarchus, “you could have had no such thought. No man 
 that looked as he did then ever played the deceiver.” 
 
 “And the man into whose face I looked,” said Thisoa, “was 
 as much above trickery or falsehood as the heavens are above 
 the earth. I too cannot help having a grain of hope. But 
 how we shall long for Marcus or Zatthu to appear!” 
 
 9 
 
 b) 
 
448 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 IX 
 
 It was on the Sabbath that Shobek arrived to tell his story. 
 Not till the second Sabbath after that had come round did 
 they get’ further news; and this time the news was brought 
 by Marcus. 
 
 He came with Naarah and on the face of neither was there 
 the look of sadness and dejection that Shobek had worn on 
 his return. 
 
 “You have something good to tell us, Marcus,” cried Thi- 
 soa. “I can read it in your face. And you have the same glad 
 expression, Naarah. Do tell us what has happened!” 
 
 “Yes, I have something strange and wonderful to tell,” 
 said Marcus. ‘Of course I recounted everything to Naarah 
 first ; but the moment I had done so we made our way hither. 
 I learned from Naarah the tidings that Shobek brought and 
 I knew how anxious you would be to hear what had happened 
 since. So now that we are all together, I will make known 
 to you the great news. Jesus rose from the tomb on the third 
 day, as he had prophesied he would.” | 
 
 “Then he did not die?” was Thisoa’s query. 
 
 “Yes. It was the truth that Shobek announced to you. 
 He expired upon the cross. He expired sooner than men usu- 
 ally do when they are submitted to that lingering agony. 
 With a great cry he died, and the evening of that same day 
 he was laid in the tomb. But when women went to anoint him 
 with spices on the morning of the third day, the tomb was 
 empty.” 
 
 “How could they be sure the body was not stolen by his 
 enemies ?”” 
 
 “Because an angel told them otherwise. Because he ap- 
 peared himself to Mary Magdalene —a woman to whom he 
 had been gracious and who worshipped him almost as if he 
 were Jehovah — and then to his own disciples.” 
 
 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 449 
 
 “But what does it mean?” said Xenodice. “Why did he 
 let himself be put to death if he has such power?” 
 
 “JT do not know. I do not yet understand. I do not believe 
 his own disciples understand. But I feel sure it was to carry 
 out some great and wondrous purpose of Jehovah.” 
 
 “Have his disciples again gathered about him?” asked 
 Aristarchus. “Is he rousing in them their former hopes?” 
 
 “By no means. He is not the same that he was before. He 
 seems almost like a spirit. Only for a short time does he show 
 himself to his disciples, and then suddenly when they are not 
 expecting him. And sometimes they do not even recognize 
 him till he fully reveals himself to them.” 
 
 “Have you seen him, yourself?” 
 
 “No. All this I have learned from Zatthu who has for 
 some time been on friendly and familiar terms with some of 
 the disciples. From them he heard all that I have told you, 
 and more than once he has sought me out to give me news that 
 I could bring to you.” 
 
 “You say you doubt if Jesus’ own disciples understand why 
 he has suffered death and risen from the tomb. What makes 
 you think that? You have no acquaintance with them, have 
 your” | 
 
 “None at all. I only judge from the things which Zatthu 
 tells me. He says they seem bewildered and unable to form 
 any plan of action. They had, you see, one fixed idea up to 
 the time when Jesus was arrested and condemned —that he 
 was to be head of a mighty kingdom and they were to be his 
 chief ministers. That hope is forever gone. Jesus as a spirit 
 who appears to them suddenly and disappears does not revive 
 it. It is a joy to them to see him, but it does not seem the 
 way to any end.” 
 
 “Do you see how it is the way to any end?” 
 
 All these searching questions were put by Aristarchus. 
 Deliberately and with carefully chosen words Marcus had 
 
450 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 answered them. But to this last query he made no reply at 
 once. Finally he said, | 
 
 “It would be presumptuous in me to think that I can see 
 where Jesus’ own followers are groping blindly. But surely 
 Jesus came into this world for some great purpose; and 
 plainly it was not the purpose his disciples had shaped in 
 their own minds. He was not sent by Jehovah to free Israel 
 from Rome or to establish a great kingdom. He was not sent 
 merely to heal many of disease; for that work of mercy is all 
 ended and who is to carry it on? He is still seen, but only 
 rarely and only for a short space of time. He really does not 
 seem to belong to this world any longer. It cannot be that 
 he has vanquished death and walked among men once more in 
 order to do any of the great things a man may accomplish 
 before he is laid in the tomb. 
 
 “It would seem to me then that he must have come into the 
 world to make men better; and he is to do this by making 
 them know Jehovah better. Has the spirit of the great Jeho- 
 vah been in these Jews whose worship is a mere blind observ- 
 ance of their ritual and lets them hate and cruelly kill one 
 who was vastly purer and holier than they? I cannot think 
 so. It is not the restoration to their ancient glory that these 
 Hebrews need; rather is it a chastened, a humbler and a more 
 merciful spirit. 
 
 “That is the only lesson I can read from this unparalleled 
 life of purity, of holiness and of limitless compassion. But 
 what do you think, Aristarchus? I, though a Roman, have 
 embraced the Hebrew faith. You have not. What does your 
 Greek mind with its keen powers of discernment, its native 
 love of justice, and its long and close study of men and things, 
 say to you of this wonderful life, its sudden and unexpected 
 end and its startling reappearance in the world after it had 
 been claimed by death?” 
 
 “Y can do little more than echo your opinion, Marcus. 
 And perhaps that will not seem strange to you when [I tell 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 451 
 
 you, what my family already know, that I too have bowed to 
 Jehovah. I was really ready to do this before I saw Jesus. 
 After I had seen him I did‘it with no reservations in my mind. 
 Jesus, I felt, had the spirit of Jehovah in him as no other man 
 has ever had it. It was to manifest this spirit that he came. 
 When he had done this his purpose was accomplished and so 
 he let himself be put to death. Now that he has come back 
 from the tomb, I can only think it is to make his work still 
 more complete — though how I do not see. How indeed could 
 any of us see? It isa strange, strange story, full of mystery. 
 How do you read it, Naarah?” 
 
 “My mind,” said Naarah, “goes back to the day when 
 Thisoa and I visited my grandfather and to the vision he had 
 when we asked him about Jesus. His mind seemed then to be 
 opened like that of the prophets of old. In Jesus he saw the 
 Messiah that is promised in our Scriptures, and the words 
 that tell of his coming and his nature rushed in a torrent from 
 his lips. And those words spoke of a great darkness and a 
 great light. Did not the darkness come when Jesus was ex- 
 piring on the cross and night fell on Jerusalem? And did not 
 the great light dawn when Jesus conquered death and rose 
 from the tomb? How the light is to grow and illumine all my 
 people, I do not know. But I have a strange deep feeling 
 that the light has come.” 
 
 “You have told us what your deepest thought is about 
 Jesus,” said Xenodice. ‘Will you not now relate what really 
 happened under your own eyes during those days in which 
 you tarried in Jerusalem? You must have seen and heard 
 things about which we would gladly know.” 
 
 “Question me then,” said Marcus. “You have heard Sho- 
 bek’s story. I would not repeat it.” 
 
 “Pray tell us then,” said Thisoa, “Show Pilate could find it 
 in him to send Jesus to a cruel death. Shobek thought it was 
 through actual fear of the high priest and his party. Was 
 that really so?” 
 
452 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “You have probably asked me the one thing about which I 
 could tell you more than Shobek. Yes, Pilate was overawed 
 by the rabid hatred and the fierce insistence of the priestly 
 party. I know, for I was standing near him when Jesus was 
 brought into his presence.” 
 
 “TY have wondered,” said Aristarchus, “if you were not with 
 Pilate when he had to pass judgment upon Jesus. What a 
 great and yet terrible scene you witnessed — the innocent con- 
 demned by the unrighteous. Tell me, did Rome ever do a 
 baser thing?” 
 
 “Your shaft is well aimed, Aristarchus, and it hits. Rome’s 
 rule is essentially a just one; But she sometimes exalts men 
 who bring her into contempt — and this judgment passed by 
 Pilate upon Jesus is the most shameful and unrighteous deed 
 that a servant of hers has ever done.” 
 
 “You think Pilate did it unwillingly?” 
 
 ‘Most unwillingly.” 
 
 “Did he give Jesus no chance to defend himself?” 
 
 ‘“He gave him every chance; but Jesus would not defend 
 himself. He read the man who questioned him.” 
 
 “He did question him?” 
 
 “Yes, and seriously. I shall never indeed forget that ques- 
 tioning. Pilate is a man who thinks. In the man before him 
 he saw nobility and greatness of soul. Gladly would he have 
 drawn him into a discussion and got from him words of 
 weight to ponder over. When Jesus said that his kingdom 
 was not of this world, Pilate asked him if he was a king. 
 Jesus did not deny it, but said that he came to bear witness 
 unto the truth. ‘What is truth?? demanded Pilate. But 
 Jesus made no answer. He knew how useless it was. But 
 Pilate had been so impressed by his lofty words and the sublime 
 calmness of his spirit that he told the Jews he found him 
 ‘blameless and that he wished to release him. But this decision 
 raised such a storm of protest that he released Barabbas 
 
 — 
 
 ee 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 453 
 
 instead, had Jesus scourged and then delivered to his enemies 
 to be crucified.” 
 
 “Could not you have saved him?” demanded Thisoa. 
 
 “TY do not think so.” 
 
 “Did you try?” 
 
 SSN o.?? 
 
 “How could you help it when you saw that holy innocent 
 man standing friendless before you?” 
 
 “He was not friendless. A mighty friend was with him 
 then and there.” 
 
 ‘Who, pray?” 
 
 “Jehovah.” 
 
 “How do you know? What do you mean?” asked Thisoa, 
 awed by the solemnity of Marcus’ manner. 
 
 *“T mean exactly what Isay. All the great things Jesus has 
 done, all the miracles of healing he has wrought, he has done 
 because Jehovah was working through him as He worked 
 through Moses and other leaders in the ancient days. And 
 that He has been with Jesus up to the very moment when he 
 expired upon the cross, I have no doubt. For when Jesus was 
 arrested his followers would have defended him; but Jesus 
 forbade them to use their swords and said his Father would 
 send legions of angels to protect him if he prayed for them. 
 And by his Father whom but Jehovah could he mean?” 
 
 “How did you learn that he said that?” questioned Thisoa. 
 
 “From Zatthu. He was with Jesus when he was arrested 
 and he heard him say it.” 
 
 ‘“Was he present when Pilate questioned Jesus?” 
 
 “Yes. And as I learned from him afterward, he felt as I 
 did, that Jesus could have used Jehovah’s power to confound 
 all his enemies had he so chosen. He let himself be led to a 
 death of suffering because he knew it was Jehovah’s will.” 
 
 “And so you felt you could do naught to save him?” 
 
 “Yes. Strange as it may seem, I felt exactly that.” 
 
454 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 “You were not even moved to try and secure for him a 
 quicker and less painful death?” 
 
 **No, not even that.” 
 
 “Could you have done so?” 
 
 “IT hardly think it. Pilate was thoroughly cowed by the 
 Jews. He said it was innocent blood that was shed and he 
 publicly washed his hands to show that he was guiltless of it. 
 But he did not dare to stand against the wrath and fury of 
 Jesus’ enemies.” 
 
 “He was a coward!” cried Thisoa with passion. 
 
 “Before you who are my friends I do not deny it, though 
 he is my superior whose mandates I must obey.” 
 
 “TI suppose,” said Thisoa reflectively, ““you must be right. 
 I suppose it was all done in accordance with Jehovah’s will. 
 But oh, the shame and horror of it! That man, who looked 
 on me with eyes more tender than any mother’s, hated and 
 maltreated and surrendered to cruel vindictive enemies by the 
 very man whose duty it was to save him! Oh, the Roman 
 purple is disgraced forever. Socrates’ judges were brave and 
 virtuous men compared with Pilate.” 
 
 “YT cannot rebuke your indignation,’ 
 wholly justified.” 
 
 “Did you not feel it yourself when you saw that Pilate was 
 going to let the Jews have their way?” 
 
 “To some extent. But so deep was my conviction that 
 Jesus was letting some deep mysterious purpose be carried 
 out that my mind was filled with wonder more than indigna- 
 tion. Ever my eyes were fixed on Jesus. In the very lowliness 
 with which he bore himself there was a majesty that made me 
 feel like kneeling before him there and asking him to let me 
 serve him.” 
 
 “You could feel like that,” Thisoa exclaimed, “and right 
 at your side were the men whom the sight and the words of 
 Jesus filled with venomous hate and the longing to torture and 
 slay him! What a strange thing is this human heart! 
 
 > said Marcus. “It is 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 455 
 
 Sophocles and Euripides were right when they made it the 
 seat of every kind of passion, evil and good. And women as 
 well as men can be wicked. One has only to think of Clytem- 
 nestra and Medea.” 
 
 “Or of Jezebel; if you want a real person and not one 
 imagined by the poets,” was Naarah’s comment. 
 
 “At any rate, I am glad no woman had anything to do with 
 the death of Jesus.” 
 
 “One woman tried to save him, but in vain,” said Marcus. 
 
 “How glad I am to hear it!’ exclaimed Thisoa. “It is the 
 only gleam of light that relieves this dark, dark story. But 
 who, pray, was she?” 
 
 “Pilate’s wife.” 
 
 “Did he tell you that?” 
 
 “Yes. I saw him the day after Jesus was crucified. Con- 
 scious that he had played a sorry part he tried to justify 
 himself in my eyes. He told me that his wife had sent him 
 word not to condemn Jesus because of a dream she had had, 
 and how desirous he had really been to obey the warning. 
 But as the Jews made it appear that Jesus was guilty of trea- 
 son, he had to give way to them out of respect to Rome. I did 
 not rebuke him, for he is clad with authority; but he realized 
 how weak and pitiful I felt his plea to be.” 
 
 “When did you see Zatthu last?” inquired Aristarchus. 
 
 “The day before I came away.” 
 
 ‘What is he doing and when will he return?” 
 
 “He is simply watching and waiting. Something momen- 
 tous, so he thinks, may happen any day and any hour. His 
 whole mind is upon these mighty happenings. He may not 
 appear for many days yet, but when he comes he is likely to 
 bring wondrous tidings.” 
 
 “More days of waiting and suspense, it seems,” said Aris- 
 tarchus. “And waiting for what? That is the strange thing 
 about it. When Shobek brought word that Jesus had been 
 put to death, I felt that that was not the end. I looked for 
 
 9 
 
456 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 something further, something surprising, something that had 
 never happened before — and you have brought the astonish- 
 ing story of Jesus’ emergence from the tomb. And now again 
 we look for something further, but are as ignorant as ever of 
 what that further thing can be. But again I am sure it will 
 fill our souls with wonder. Well, we must all be patient tul 
 Zatthu comes.” 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 457 
 
 X 
 
 Yet they found it hard to be patient, for day after day 
 passed by and still Zatthu neither appeared nor sent any mes- 
 sage. At last, after four more Sabbaths had elapsed, he came. 
 
 When he had greeted Aristarchus he sought Thisoa and 
 joyous was their meeting. Thisoa’s feeling was too deep to 
 suffer the restraints of a timid soul which does not find in 
 the very sanctity of its own emotion its sufficient safeguard. 
 Her gladness was so freely manifested that Zatthu was thrilled 
 and awed by it, and he showed how the love he had so long 
 repressed now flooded and exalted his whole being. 
 
 But not for long did the lovers remain by themselves. 
 
 “You have tidings, wondrous tidings to make known to us,” 
 said Thisoa. “I can read it in your countenance. Glad tid- 
 ings, I am sure they are, for you come back bearing yourself 
 like one who has to tell of a battle won. So let us go to my 
 father and mother who are as eager as I am to hear your 
 story.” 
 
 “Yes. It is glad tidings that I bring; but let Marcus and 
 Naarah be summoned — yes, and Shobek too must hear what 
 I have to say. When we are all gathered together, I will 
 speak. It is a strange, a solemn and unheard-of thing I have 
 to relate. I would not go round repeating it like a tale 
 bearer.” 
 
 Marcus and Naarah came quickly and eagerly in response 
 to the summons sent them; and Shobek was only too anxious 
 to listen once more to the man he had served so devotedly and 
 long. When all were assembled Zatthu said, 
 
 ‘Wondrous, wondrous indeed is the news I bring you. 
 Jesus will be seen by human eyes no more. The mighty Jeho- 
 vah who sent him has taken him unto Himself. Even while we 
 were all gazing upon him he rose from earth; a cloud received 
 him and veiled him from our sight.” 
 
458 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 So solemnly did Zatthu say this that his listeners were 
 awed and for a short time, sat in silence. Finally Marcus 
 asked, 
 
 “Who saw this wondrous sight?” 
 
 “The company of followers whom he had chosen and who 
 had assembled at his bidding.” 
 
 “Was it near Jerusalem that they had gathered?” 
 
 “Yes, close by Jerusalem.” 
 
 “‘And did he lay any last commands upon them?” 
 
 “Yes. Unable to rid themselves of the view they had so 
 fondly cherished, they asked him if he was to restore Israel 
 to its kingly state. His answer made them feel it was not for 
 them to know what was willed by Jehovah; but that power 
 from on high would be given them and they were to bear wit- 
 ness to him not only through this Hebrew land but to the 
 furtherest parts of the earth.” 
 
 “You say they were to bear witness. Does ‘they’? mean 
 you, Zatthu?” inquired Aristarchus. 
 
 “Yes,” replied Zatthu, slowly but unhesitatingly. “I was 
 one of them. The command was laid on me.” 
 
 “You are one of those whom Jesus chose?” asked Thisoa 
 earnestly. 
 
 “Not as he chose the Twelve and as he sent forth the 
 seventy apostles. But I have mingled with the Twelve and 
 talked freely with them. With some of the seventy apostles 
 I have had close intercourse. I once looked into the eyes of 
 Jesus; I saw that he read my soul and knew my story; from 
 that hour I have felt that I belonged wholly to him. When 
 he was betrayed by Judas, I was near him, sword in hand, to 
 repel his enemies had he so willed. But he did not will it, and 
 I could but stand helpless and see him tried, condemned and 
 put to a cruel death.” 
 
 “T have told all here,” said Marcus, “how we both felt 
 powerless to help Jesus because he seemed to be bowing to 
 Jehovah’s will. I have told them, too, in answer to their own 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 459 
 
 earnest questioning, that Jesus seemed to me to have come 
 into the world to take away its evil; for even though he rose 
 from the tomb, he no longer belonged to this world and he 
 could not have made himself King of Israel. Do not Jesus’ 
 last injunctions to his followers confirm this view? What is 
 the witness you will bear to him unless it be just this?” 
 
 “T believe you to be wholly right, Marcus,” answered Zat- 
 thu. ‘‘Jesus came into the world to purify it, not to make 
 himself a king. It was exactly this, I have been reminded by 
 some of the Twelve, that John the Baptist said of him; for, 
 seeing him, he uttered this strange saying: Behold the Lamb 
 of God which taketh away the sin of the world. That same 
 John the Baptist we Pharisees despised, and I was one of his 
 chief contemners. But he saw the light while we were in dark- 
 ness.” 
 
 “Yet it was not strange that you thought John the Baptist 
 an impostor and his words mere folly,” said Naarah. “Our 
 nation looked for a great deliverer, like Moses; and how 
 could it be freed from Rome’s heavy hand by one so mild and 
 gentle that he could be spoken of as the Lamb of God?” 
 
 “Perhaps it was not strange,” said Zatthu, “though I am 
 loath to make any excuses for my blindness. But ah, how 
 often do we turn from the truth because it seems to us 
 strange! 'Those prophecies that tell of the Messiah to come 
 — how strange they are, how hard to understand! But since 
 I was reminded that John the Baptist called Jesus the Lamb 
 of God, I have found one of Isaiah’s prophetic utterances 
 coming home to me again and again with startling power. 
 For in a sublime but sorrowful strain which seems clearly to 
 be spoken of the Messiah he uses these words which our 
 learned men could never fathom: He is brought as a lamb to 
 the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so 
 he openecth not his mouth. Verily it was as a lamb that Jesus 
 was led to the cross; and when he was questioned, accused and 
 
460 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 vilified before the high priests and before Pilate, he opened 
 not his mouth.” 
 
 So solemn was Zatthu’s manner and so manifestly deep and 
 fervent was the feeling out of which he spoke, that a hush fell 
 upon the little group that was listening to him. It was Thisoa 
 who broke the silence. 
 
 “T too am ashamed of my blindness,” she said very gently. 
 “T shall try to make amends for it all my days; and whatever 
 you do, wherever you go, Zatthu, in obeying the last com- 
 mands of Jesus, I shall be at your side. But what is it you 
 are to do and whither are you to go?” 
 
 “T am to tell the world of this holy hfe,” said Zatthu with 
 thrilling tones and rapt expression. “That is what I am to 
 do. Wherever I see men sunk in selfishness and needing to 
 hear that wondrous story, there I am to go. And the path 
 will be made clear; the light will come — yes, it will come and 
 enlighten our souls as surely as the sun will keep on giving 
 light to the world.” 
 
 “But what is to become of my poor suffering country?” 
 questioned Naarah. “You, Zatthu, made us think that you 
 were called to set it free and lift it into greatness; but you 
 failed. Then we placed our hopes in Jesus; but he too has 
 failed. Who then shall make Jerusalem a quiet habitation, 
 not one of the stakes of which shall ever be removed nor any 
 of the cords thereof be broken?” 
 
 “Jehovah,” replied Zatthu. “Jehovah alone, and in his 
 own time and his own way. We in our ignorance can only 
 say: His will be done. When our sin and selfishness needed 
 rebuke, He sent us Jesus to show us the way of righteousness 
 and holiness as it has never been shown to men before. And 
 He who has dealt so wondrously and mercifully with us can 
 be trusted to do all things well.” 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 461 
 
 XI 
 
 Ten days had passed since Zatthu’s return from Jerusalem. 
 With Thisoa he had sought the old olive tree near the edge 
 of the high ground that commanded the lake, and sitting un- 
 der its shadow they were watching the waves of Gennesaret 
 flash in the afternoon sunlight. In silence they sat for a while; 
 then Thisoa said, half-queryingly as if asking confirmation 
 of what she really knew, 
 
 “And so Eliud Merari has passed on.” 
 
 “Yes, and grandly, even as he lived.” 
 
 “You told us how he died; but I do not believe you said to 
 my father and mother and Shobek, when we all came together 
 to hear your story, what you would wish to say to me. Is it 
 not so?” 
 
 “You have read me aright, Thisoa,” said Zatthu, looking 
 at her with a smile. “I could not then tell all that Merari 
 said without giving too great consequence to myself and to 
 what I have been doing since I thought myself, so mistakenly, 
 raised up to deliver Israel. But to you, to whom I used to 
 speak so freely in those days when your father first opened 
 his home to me; to you, to whom I have now given my whole 
 heart, I am ready, yes, glad, to relate everything that passed. 
 
 “That hour with Merari was indeed a wondrous one and 
 never to be forgotten. The breath of life seemed almost gone 
 out of him when I found him lying in his chamber that was 
 flooded by the light of the setting sun. His eyes were closed, 
 but he knew me as I softly entered the room, though I had not 
 allowed my presence to be announced to him. For his spirit 
 has for some time been so nearly free from the body that its 
 sight has not been that of mere mortal vision. He has seen 
 even as those see who have entered Jehovah’s country; and I 
 soon found that I did not need to tell him what I had with my 
 own eyes witnessed in and about Jerusalem. 
 
462 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 ***T am so glad you have come,’ he said; ‘for now I can die. 
 The sun and I bid farewell to the world together.’ 
 
 “And you could not die before I came?’ I asked. 
 
 “**T was not willing to, and I was sure Jehovah would bring 
 you before my eyes were forever closed. No, I was holding 
 the breath of life to see you, there are things I want so much 
 to say. And first, I must tell you that I know all. I know 
 that Jesus was Messiah. I know how he died upon the cross. 
 I know how he rose from the tomb and walked with his dis- 
 ciples. And I know how he was received up into heaven and 
 will be seen on earth no more.’ 
 
 ***So I do not need to tell you the things I have seen and 
 heard.’ | 
 
 ““No. It is not really for that that I have been waiting for 
 speech with you. I have wanted to give you an old man’s dying 
 blessing. You have failed, and yet you have gloriously tri- 
 umphed. My heart went out to you when you sought me first 
 and made known to me your great ambition. For your zeal, 
 your devotion to our bleeding country, and your sublime 
 faith in Jehovah, I had deep respect. But I felt that you 
 were misguided. Unselfish as your love of Israel seemed, I 
 saw that love of self was so mingled with it that you were to 
 pass through the valley of humiliation. The dark days that 
 were before you crowded on my sight. But I could not warn 
 you. I could not teach you. It was for Jehovah and for 
 Him only to do that. 
 
 **¢And in His own way He has done it. Tribulation came. 
 Failure came. You lay dying of a broken heart. But Jeho- 
 vah did not suffer you to die. The bruised. reed He did not 
 break and the smoking flax He did not quench; but in the 
 deeps of your wounded spirit He brought forth judgment 
 unto victory. Through Jesus you were brought from death 
 to life; and to Jesus you turned because you saw in him the 
 light of the world. That rebellious self which had led you 
 astray you conquered utterly, and you gave to Jesus, our 
 
 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 463 
 
 Messiah, the devotion you would fain have won to yourself 
 through all Judea. It was well done. It was well done, my 
 friend, and Jehovah will bless you for it all your days.’ 
 
 “Instinctively I knelt as the old man solemnly uttered these 
 last words, and placing his hands upon my head he said in 
 tones that thrilled me through and through: ‘Jehovah bless 
 you and keep you; Jehovah make his face shine upon you and 
 be gracious unto you; Jehovah lift up his countenance upon 
 you and give you peace.’ 
 
 “For some moments I knelt by the bedside. I was loath to 
 rise, for I felt as if I had been taken out of the noise, the 
 strife and the passions of the world and that Jehovah was 
 very near. But, rising after a while and resuming my seat, I 
 looked upon Merari; and as I looked I was filled with awe. 
 His eyes were closed and there was such a light of peace and 
 holiness upon his face that I thought his spirit had passed 
 with the benediction he had given me. Ah, what a solemn 
 beauty his features had! Never shall I see such a look on any 
 human countenance again. I gazed at him rapt and silent. 
 I could not have opened my lips to break that solemn stillness. 
 
 “But presently he opened his eyes and looked at me with a 
 smile of wondrous sweetness. Reading my thought, he said, 
 
 ““<No, my son, I have not passed, but my end is very near. 
 Give my love to my dear Naarah and to her noble husband. 
 Tell them that my last thoughts were of them and that a great 
 joy filled my heart as I dwelt upon their deep abiding happi- 
 ness. ‘They too, I know, have turned to Jesus as Messiah, 
 even as you have done. The call has come to you. Be true 
 to it and you will all find peace.’ 
 
 ** “Ves, the call has come,’ I said. ‘We have heard it. We 
 shall be true to it, and it will surely give us the peace you 
 promise. Perhaps, indeed, the peace into which you have so 
 perfectly entered will not come to us at once. We must not 
 obey the call because of what joy and happiness it will bring 
 to us. Jesus heard Jehovah’s own voice speaking, and to him 
 
464 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 it brought the cross. And though he has promised peace to 
 those who would follow him, he also said many things to warn 
 his disciples that peace might sometimes be bought by pain. 
 For John, whom he loved so deeply, told me that in the very 
 night of his betrayal, in his last solemn charge to his chosen 
 Twelve he said these words: “In the world ye shall have tribu- 
 lation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” 
 
 *“*You have grown wise, my son; you have grown very 
 wise,’ Merari said the moment I had done speaking; and he 
 looked at me yearningly to show his deep gratification. ‘You 
 need no words from me. You have learned all that I could 
 teach you— yes and much more. You, and all those who 
 have become so dear to you, will be true to the call and you 
 will find peace, even though you first pass through troubled 
 waters. And would that my down-trodden country might 
 find it also! I fear it has brought woe upon itself by slaying 
 that holy man. But Jehovah has watched over it in time 
 past; He will surely do so in the years to come. 
 
 “But the sun is setting and darkness is stealing over the 
 world. And over these eyes of mine that have looked on it for 
 more than four score years the darkness is stealing also. No 
 longer can I see your face. I could not see my children were 
 they here. But some day I shall see you all again in the land 
 I am entering even now. Already its light is shining full upon 
 me like a morning sun. Oh, wondrous, glorious light! Fare- 
 well? 
 
 ‘He said no more, but lay with his hands folded on his 
 breast and that same look of radiant happiness that gave his 
 countenance a more than earthly beauty. For a long time the 
 look lingered, and my soul was filled with peace as I gazed at 
 him in reverence and awe. So still he lay that his breathing 
 was hardly apparent and we could not tell the moment when 
 his spirit passed. All that we were sure of was that, soon 
 after sundown, he was not, for Jehovah took him.” 
 
 Zatthu ceased and after a few moments Thisoa said, 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 465 
 
 “A noble life; a noble death. Was not he truly one of the 
 followers of Jesus of Nazareth?” 
 
 “As surely as Nicodemus, who revered him but did not pro- 
 claim himself a disciple; as surely as Joseph of Arimathea 
 who laid him in the tomb. Many, very many are doubtless 
 blessing his name who will never tell the world how much they 
 owe him, how deeply they revere him. Only with hushed 
 voices, at the fireside, and to groups of friends, will the multi- 
 tudes he healed tell the wondrous story of their deliverance.” 
 
 “And will he count that following him?” 
 
 “I am sure he will if in the heart the feeling of reverence 
 and gratitude be deeply cherished. The light cannot come to 
 all in the same way.” 
 
 “How do you think it will come to Marcus and where will 
 it lead him?” 
 
 “Ah, that is a hard question to answer, and to Marcus it 
 may well prove a troublesome, yes, a terrible question. But 
 if he has to choose between Jesus and Rome, I am sure he will 
 choose Jesus.” 
 
 “No,” said Thisoa very soberly, “the light cannot come to 
 all in the same way. But how glad I am that it has come to 
 you as it has and made you long to give it to the world. A 
 wonderful story you have to tell, and wonderfully you will 
 tell it.” And as Thisoa said this she gave Zatthu a look of 
 pride and deep affection. 
 
 “Yes, a wonderful story, Thisoa, and wonderful was your 
 own part init. I have indeed been strangely led and I shall 
 glory in making it known. [ shall glory in seeking hearers and 
 telling them of the light that has come into the world. No, 
 not for me,” Zatthu went on with kindling eye and tones that 
 thrilled Thisoa by their intensity, “‘the quiet fireside tale, the 
 cautious speech to a listening group of trusted friends. In 
 the busy street, in the village when the toil of the day is over, 
 in the market place, in the synagogues of the very men who 
 exulted in Jesus’ death, I shall lift up my voice and say that 
 
466 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
 
 Messiah has come to take away the sin of the world. My soul 
 was on fire when I told my people that Jehovah would break 
 their yoke of bondage if they would but trust Him. Yes, my 
 soul was on fire, but the fire was not pure and clean. It was 
 kindled by a love of self that I did not know and see. That 
 fire had to be burnt out, and in the burning I almost perished. 
 But that proud unhallowed self was consumed, and the fire 
 that is in me now has been kindled by the healer of Nazareth 
 who raised me from death to life; and that fire will burn ever 
 more brightly till I die. It will kindle my lips to speak as I 
 never spoke when I thought myself Jehovah’s messenger. It 
 will light my path and lead me whither I know not; but the 
 path that shines before me I shall follow to the end of my 
 days. If it leads me to traverse raging waters, I shall fear 
 not. If it brings me scorn and hatred, I shall care not. If 
 the cross is to be my fate, I shall shrink not; for I shail think 
 it has been forever hallowed by the death that Jesus died.” 
 
 Other words equally fervent were about to rush from 
 Zatthu’s lips, but even as he was about to utter them he 
 paused and looked at Thisoa; for the thought came sud- 
 denly to him that the ardor which filled his soul might not 
 have fired hers also. Would she possibly feel that the future 
 he pictured was too sombre and was bringing a shadow on 
 that happiness which had come like a flood of sunshine into 
 their lives? 
 
 It was indeed only a question, not a doubt, that visited his 
 heart; and the question at once gave way to an exquisite joy 
 as he caught the rapt and exalted look upon her face and the 
 boundless trust with which her eyes met his own. But she 
 did not speak, for she feared lest any words, however devoted, 
 she might utter would disturb the current of his speech. Nor 
 were words needed. Her look gave new fire to his spirit, and 
 stretching his hands heavenward, he cried, 
 
 “Oh, thou mighty and eternal Jehovah, it is thou that hast 
 sent to earth this holy man! It is thou that hast taken him 
 
PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 46'7 
 
 to thyself now that he has revealed as it has never been 
 revealed before, thy glory, thy mercy, thy long-suffering! 
 Through the face of Jesus of Nazareth thou hast shined upon 
 the world. Through his boundless tenderness which made 
 him take little children in his arms and bless them; through 
 his infinite compassion which healed the sick and breathed 
 forgiveness to the sinful; through the divine depth of his love 
 which not even the cross could slay, he has made this earth as 
 well as heaven to be thy dwelling place. Yea, verily, in him 
 thou, who art from everlasting, hast walked with the children 
 of men. Not in Moses who talked with thee face to face, and 
 not in Elijah who was carried by thine own messengers to 
 heaven did thy spirit rest as in him whom thine own chosen 
 people could only doom to a cruel death. But for him there 
 was no death. He rose; he made mortality immortal; he 
 was called by thee to heaven and forever he dwells with thee. 
 Forever will his life, his death, his conquest over death, make 
 known to men thy everlasting might, thy everlasting love. 
 Light! light! light! Oh, glorious, wondrous light! It has 
 shined from heaven! It has flooded this footstool of Jehovah! 
 Even from its dust and ashes we can now look up to God!” 
 
 The fire in his spirit had spent itself. He ceased, and as he 
 did so he found Thisoa standing at his side and gazing at him 
 with the same look of devotion that had given him his mspira- 
 tion. She was ready to speak now, and out of the depths of 
 her own spirit she said joyously, 
 
 “Yes, Zatthu, the light has come, full, cloudless, glorious 
 light! You have opened my eyes to see as they have never 
 seen before. How it can be I know not, but it is even as you 
 say. This earth is no longer what it was; for He whose 
 hands created it has in some way made his very presence seen 
 and felt among us here. And if ever we are counted worthy 
 to behold Him, I feel that we shall look upon that holy face 
 I saw upon the mountain.” 
 
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