7 
 
 
 , 
 
SACRIFICE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE LIVING DEAD 
 
 S. G- IR IE IE IST , 
 
 EDITOR OF THE COLUS^ SUN. 
 
 COLUSA : 
 ADDIXGTOX & G R E E x . 
 
 1882. 
 
Gin<. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by 
 
 WILL S. GREEN, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
Bancroft 
 
 SACRIFICE 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE LIVING DEAD. 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 THE PEDDLEK. 
 O44 j^ 
 
 ^f C^j^HIS was to have been our wedding day, but still 
 
 ? (^TO ^ u gk lingers, under one pretext or another, on the 
 
 . ^^ shores of the Dead Sea. Could anything in human 
 
 O ( jyS form, but a monk, an Arab, or a man gone wild 
 
 ^* after antiquities, live there, I should suspect the 
 
 existence of a rival, notwithstanding the interesting letters 
 
 \ he writes so frequently. Why, I should not be surprised 
 
 Q were he willing to exchange even me for some petrified 
 
 O Sodomite, could one be found in any of the caves he 
 
 0. describes so vividly." 
 
 Q At this last conceit Miriam Howard smiled, for she had 
 
 never doubted for a moment the fidelity of her lover who 
 had been "doing" the old world for the last three years. 
 And, as girls will do when they think of the possibility of a 
 rival, even a petrified one, she cast her eyes upon the face of 
 the mirror which extended from floor to ceiling before her. 
 The image she beheld therein would have reassured one far 
 more suspicious than she. A lovely, earnest-looking face 
 looked forth upon her earnest in spite of the smile which 
 now illumined it. Its delicate contour was shaded by the 
 soft, waving hair of raven hue, whose heavy masses, fas- 
 
4 SACRIFICE. 
 
 tened by a coral comb, were coiled and twisted in the latest 
 style about her beautifully-formed head. Calm, shining 
 eyes of a dark, strange gray, which would seem to hide 
 within their depths the capabilities of a high and holy 
 resolve. The high, broad forehead, and the clear, cameo- 
 like features, while indicating talents of no mean order, with 
 courage and decision of character, also signified the loving, 
 true-hearted woman; and, in the little, well-developed figure, 
 slightly above medium height, both grace and dignity were 
 combined. While Miriam, though not vain, was gazing upon 
 this pleasing picture, she suddenly gave vent to a startled 
 cry, for, reflected in the glass before her, she saw another 
 figure, far different from her own. Standing in the drawing- 
 room door, behind her, was a queer-looking old man, carry- 
 ing on his shoulders a small pack, who, as she turned hastily 
 around, advanced, bowing obsequiously with hat in hand, a 
 few steps towards her. 
 
 Miriam, though neither nervous nor timid, felt a vague 
 terror seize her at the unexpected appearance of this man. 
 However, it was but a moment until she regained her usual 
 presence of mind, when she indignantly demanded : 
 
 " Why, sir, do you presume to enter this house or this 
 room unannounced ? " 
 
 "Pardon me, Mees; but I has some peautiful dings vhich 
 I vould likes to shows you." And without appearing to 
 notice Miriam's impatient movement, he took from his 
 shoulders ids pack and proceeded to open it. 
 
 "Do not take the trouble," she coldly said; "I do not 
 care to buy." 
 
 " Oh, it ish nodroubles in de vorld, Mees," he replied, in 
 the blandest of tones. "If I no shows mine goots I no 
 sells clem." 
 
 " But I want none of your goods, and you need not 
 unpack them here," returned Miriam, an angry sparkle com- 
 ing to her eyes. 
 
 " I hafe travels long ways, Mees, mit goods for all kind 
 beeples, de rich an' de boor;" and all this while he continued 
 
THE PEDDLER. 5 
 
 unfastening his pack. ' ' You sees, I dells you in de most con- 
 fidence, none dese goots ever sees de Custom House; dere- 
 fore, I sells de rich young ladee, like you, Mees, de most 
 peautiful goots oh, so scheap ! " 
 
 "Shall I have to inform you again that neither you nor 
 your goods are wanted, and that you had better be moving 
 on?" 
 
 "It ish no droubles in de vorld, Mees, to show mine 
 goots you needs not to minds de droubles to me, it ish 
 mine beesness. I sells every young ladee goots, I dells you. 
 I never mees one in great many years. Now, you sees, I 
 vill shows you de goots, and you can fix de brice yourselfs." 
 
 All this while Miriam had not caught the glance of the 
 peddler's eyes, for he had kept them sedulously bent upon 
 his pack; but she could see that the unwelcome intruder was 
 diminutive in size, and only differed from the type of the 
 usual " Jew peddler" in that his hair was long, and almost 
 white, while his whiskers, mingled with gray, reached nearly 
 to his waist. 
 
 " De old man hafe von hard dimes, Mees," he continued, 
 "mitvon schildrens to feed. I leaves de schildrens avay 
 over de big vater. You hafe read about de City of Smyrna, 
 Mees, an' all de curious beeples dere ? Yell, mine home is 
 dere. You sees," and pulling up a chair, he sat down in the 
 most confidential manner, "you sees, I sells mine goots a 
 leetle bit brofit on von a leetle bit brofit on de oder and 
 de brofit feeds de schildrens. But here ish von diamond 
 ring. Look ! " and he held it up, making it to glitter and 
 sparkle in the sun. "De duty on dat ring vould be five 
 hundred dollar but I dells you, Mees, he no sees de officer. 
 You can fix de brice and dakes him." 
 
 " I tell you," said Miriam, more emphatically than ever, 
 "I want none of your paste diamonds. If you are poor, 
 take this and go ! " With this she offered him some money, 
 which he did noiappear to notice, but continued displaying 
 the contents of his pack to her astonished gaze. 
 
D SACBIFICE. 
 
 "Here be brecious stone from all barts of de vorld. Fix 
 your brice, Mees, and dakes any of dem you likes. You 
 bays me no moneys till you hafe de jeweler's vord dat dey 
 be goot. You dakes any of dem, and in two, tree days I 
 comes back den you bays me. I dells you I no scheat de 
 young ladee." 
 
 Miriam Howard had been from infancy accustomed to all 
 that wealth could procure, but the array of gems in the ped- 
 dler's casket dazzled even her vision. Never, even in 
 dreams, had fancy pictured such a brilliant sight. Dia- 
 monds, which seemed to have caught and imprisoned the 
 most dazzling rays of the noonday sun; pearls, chaste and 
 lovely in their milky sheen; rubies, emeralds, topazes, 
 sapphires, either of which might have ransomed a king, lay 
 sparkling on their velvet cushions. Miriam could almost 
 have imagined that the veritable owner of Aladdin's lamp 
 was now before her. In spite of herself her interest began 
 to grow; but as she had adopted the indignant role at first, 
 her pride forbade her giving the slightest token thereof. 
 
 " You gave me to understand," she said, "that you were 
 very poor, and almost appealed to my charity. Now, you 
 would have me believe that the miserable trash you have in 
 your box is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. I will 
 call a servant, and have you put out." 
 
 " Ah, I see de ladee cares not for such trash as diamonds, 
 an' rubies, an' pearls! But I trades mit all de ladees. De 
 goots is very valuable, but de brofit is so small, as keeps 
 me all de dimes very boor. I pays von pig brice, an' sells 
 for von small brice. Now here ish von little ring maybes 
 you would not pick him up in de street; but, for all dat, I 
 bay five hundred dollar for dat ring. It is von serpent; he 
 go twice 'round de finger. De stone in de eyes ish like no 
 odder stone in de world." 
 
 "You must take me for an idiot!" sharply exclaimed 
 Miriam. 
 
 " No, Mees, bardon; but I dinks de ladee very smart. I's 
 been selling dese kind goots, since long dime before de 
 
THE PEDDLEB. 7 
 
 Mees was born, and I sells him to great many different 
 beeples. You sees, maybes, I be von big idiot mineselfs. 
 Somedimes de trader dakes de fancy, and somedimes de 
 customer dakes him. Now I buys dis leetle drinket at von 
 pig brice. Shall I dells you 'bout him ? " 
 
 "You need not mind going to that trouble," answered 
 Miriam. 
 
 "Veil, you sees," continued the peddler, in voice and 
 manner, as though he had been invited to proceed with his 
 story, ' ' you sees, I vos von day valking 'round mit de shores 
 of de Dead Sea" 
 
 "The Dead Sea!" interrupted Miriam in spite of herself; 
 but the peddler, paying no attention to her interruption, 
 continued: 
 
 " Yhen who vould I meets, but a young Calif ornian who " 
 
 " Young Calif ornian !" ejaculated Miriam; but again the 
 peddler proceeded without in any manner noticing her 
 agitation : 
 
 "Vas so crazy mit de idea dat he finds somedings so 
 vonderful 'bout de Dead Sea. Vy, I dells you, Mees, dat 
 young mans know every holes and caverns 'round dat blace 
 as veil as de ladee knows dis house. Dis young mans an' 
 me great frients. I lofe dat young mans." 
 
 And here, for the first time, the peddler gave evidence of 
 emotion, and laughed; but it was a dry, hollow laugh, and, 
 as Miriam heard it, that vague terror returned, and she 
 shuddered from head to foot. But she was interested. 
 
 " Von days I com 'round mit de edge of de vaters, an' I 
 finds de young mans just come out von pig holes in de rock 
 von cavern, you calls him, and he hafe in his hands dis 
 queer-looking ring. Just den a band of wild Arabs, dey 
 com up an' capture him, an' say dey no let him go till he 
 bays von ransom of five hundred dollars . Veil, you sees, I 
 comes along in goot dime. De Arab chief he knows me, an' 
 I dells him I bays de ransom; an' de young mans, I dells him 
 he must give me de jewel. He say he no gife dat to any 
 von, but a frient, and he hope von days to get him back. 
 
8 SACRIFICE. 
 
 So you sees, Mees, I hafe von customer for dat. Veil, dis 
 young mans, Hugh vas his names " 
 
 "Hugh !" exclaimed Miriam, so excitedly that this time 
 the peddler was obliged to notice her. "Did you say his 
 name was Hugh ? " 
 
 "Hugh, Mees; it vas Hugh. Nodings so very strange in 
 dat. I meets many Hughs in dis country. Veil, Hugh, he 
 gife me de rings, an' I bays de ransom. So you sees, Mees, 
 de trader bays somedimes von very high brice for de goots. 
 But de ladee vill not care 'bout dis, sol puts him avay." 
 
 1 ' But I do care about it ! " said Miriam, quickly. Let me 
 see it! What do you ask for it?" 
 
 " De ladee do not care to hafe dis ring at de brice I bays 
 for him," and he made a motion as though to return it to its 
 place. "I sells him to some rich old shentlemans vat likes 
 him 'cause him old or I makes dat crazy frient of mine bays 
 me von pig brofit. I suits de ladee in some odder dings." 
 
 Miriam had advanced rapidly to his side, and in her 
 excitement had unconsciously laid her hand on his shoulder 
 as he leaned over his pack. Kaising his head, his eyes, for 
 the first time, met hers. Black and piercing, they shone out 
 from under his grizzled brows, as though they would search 
 her soul to its very depths. Again that strange, magnetic 
 thrill went through her being, and, hastily dropping her 
 hand, she recoiled in almost fear from his side. Again 
 came that dry, hollow laugh. 
 
 " What was this young man's name of whom you had the 
 ring ? " asked Miriam, when she had recovered herself. 
 
 " I dells you, it vas Hugh I beliefs I forgets his odder 
 names." 
 
 " You trifle with me, man; you have not forgotten! " 
 
 "I never in all mine lifes drifle mit de ladees. I dells 
 you. He vas very dall more as six feet high, an' weigh 
 more as two hundred bound. He very handsorna an' he very 
 brave. He fight de devil, an' gife him von extra pitchfork." 
 
 "That's he! " exclaimed Miriam. 
 
THE PEDDLER. 9 
 
 "Dat's who?" asked the peddler. " Hafe de Mees von 
 brodder dere ? " 
 
 " No, sir peddler," with an unconscious pride in her tone, 
 " but I have a lover there, and you, I am certain, have seen 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, de sorrow of vaiting ven dere is no return!" said he 
 in a tone half soliloquy and half addressed to Miriam. 
 
 " By what authority, sir, do you prophecy that one so 
 noble as Hugh Ashby will prove false to his plighted vow ? " 
 demanded Miriam, indignantly. 
 
 "Me! I bees no brophet, Mees. Dat ish not mine bees- 
 ness. I sells de ladees rare jewels for von small brofit. 
 
 "I must have that ring," said Miriam, as the peddler 
 seemed about to close his box. " What do you ask for it?" 
 
 11 Vhich von ? De diamonds? " 
 
 11 No, no!" she emphatically answered. "You know 
 which one I mean. I want the serpent ring." 
 
 "I dells you, you set de brice, an' dakes anydings I got. 
 I dells you de cost of dis an' leaves de rest to you." 
 
 "But tell me the name of this young Californian, and I 
 will pay double for the ring." 
 
 "Ltfdee, do you dinks you knows your lover, if vou sees 
 him?" 
 
 "Know him? Of course, I would! What an absurd 
 question!" .';-* 
 
 " Ish you as brave as your lover ? " 
 
 " I fear not. But why ask that now ? " 
 
 " Yill de ladee dare to look closely into de eyes of de ser- 
 pent ring ? " 
 
 "Dare! Of course, I will! AVhat is there so terrible 
 about that ? " 
 
 " Dat ish more as can dells now. You vill look steadily 
 into de bright eyes, an' dells me vhat you sees ? " 
 
 "I will," said Miriam. 
 
 Then slipping the ring on the little finger of the right 
 hand, he stepped to the light, requesting Miriam to follow. 
 
10 SACKIFICE. 
 
 As he stood before the open window with the brilliant sun- 
 light streaming in upon him, and the hand extended, upon 
 which coiled and sparkled the serpent ring, he seemed to 
 Miriam's excited imagination no longer the little old " Jew 
 peddler," but rather some mysterious being who was to 
 exercise some unknown influence over the lives of herself 
 and lover. Eagerly she followed, and was stooping over the 
 ring. As she gazed, it seemed gradually to assume the pro- 
 portions of the real living reptile which it represented. The 
 head, erect, seemed to move with a slow, vibratory motion, 
 which made her dizzy as she beheld it. The forked tongue 
 darted in and out with lightning-like rapidity, while the eyes 
 seemed to emit flashes of blinding light, before which all 
 else grew pale and darkened. Everything faded from 
 Miriam's sight but those wondrous eyes, on which a picture 
 rose and grew. Faintly, and as from a distance, she heard 
 the peddler's voice, commanding, " Tell me what you see! " 
 Under the influence of this powerful spell, she could but 
 obey. Her voice, low and broken at first, gradually grew 
 louder and more agitated as the picture was unfolded to her 
 view. 
 
 " I behold a scene of desolation utter desolation! Bar- 
 ren mountains and blackened rocks encompass a still, un- 
 natural-looking sea. 'Tis night! A man walks alone on this 
 desolate shore. Now I see his face more clearly. 'Tis 
 Hugh Hugh Ashby! In his face shines the look of a reso- 
 lution which can be born alone of God. He stops and 
 gazes anxiously over the sea, as though in expectation. 
 Now the waters of this dreary, silent lake are disturbed, and 
 move with a heavy, undulating swell, as though some mon- 
 ster of the deep was striving to rise to its surface. And now 
 such a beautiful, phosphorescent light illumines the bosom 
 of the sea. The waters divide, and a magnificent city arises 
 from their midst. This must be the object of Hugh's expec- 
 tation, for he stands with hands and eyes raised heaven- 
 ward like a priest at the altar of sacrifice as though striv- 
 ing to appease the anger of an insulted God. A beautiful, 
 
THE PEDDLER. 11 
 
 sad-looking woman conies to meet him, and hand in hand 
 they walk the streets of this city, which seems so full of life, 
 light and gayety. Hugh takes from his bosom a picture and 
 presses it to his lips ! It is mine { I feel that it is mine ! He 
 is true still true to me ! My God ! What is this I see ? 
 Again the waters are disturbed. The city begins to sink; 
 the dark, cruel-looking waters roll in upon it, and Hugh and 
 the beautiful woman, looking so like martyrs. O merciful 
 God! Spare them!" And Miriam fell senseless to the 
 
 floor. 
 
 *#;<'#>,#-,*.* 
 
 When Mrs. Howard entered the room, she found her 
 daughter Miriam lying on the floor insensible. The house 
 was soon in confusion; restoratives were applied, and in a 
 few moments she had begun to show signs of returning con- 
 sciousness. Her first words were : 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " Where is who, my child ? " asked her mother. " There- 
 has been no one here." 
 
 "Then have I been dreaming? " 
 
 When Miriam had recovered her strength, she made dili- 
 gent inquiries of the girl whose business it was to answer 
 the bell, and of all the servants and other persons about 
 the house, but no one had seen anything of her peddler. 
 Yet she could not persuade herself that it was all a dream. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SEARCH THE LETTER. 
 
 AMES HOWABD, after thirty years spent in trade, 
 found himself, at the age of fifty, possessed of a very 
 large fortune, and concluded to retire from active 
 Y> business life and pass the remainder of his days in the 
 bosom of his family. With this idea in view, he had 
 purchased a small farm on the road leading from San 
 -Jose to Santa Clara, commonly called the " Alameda," and 
 had erected thereon a magnificent residence. His family 
 consisted of his wife and two children, Henry and Miriam. 
 He was proud of his children, and well he might have been; 
 for his son, after graduating with the highest honors at Har- 
 vard, had returned home free from the vices which too often 
 accompany youth, talent and wealth. Miriam had stood 
 first in almost every department in the very excellent Col- 
 lege of Notre Dame, San Jose, and even after her gradua- 
 tion spent much of her time with the good Sisters, whom 
 .she loved with a love almost equalling that which she bore 
 for her mother. With the approval of her parents, Miriam 
 had, some three years before the opening of our story, given 
 her heart and promised her hand to Hugh Ashby, who had 
 immediately after set out for the Old World. He had ex- 
 pected to be home at least six months before the time ap- 
 pointed for their marriage; but, as we have seen, he had not 
 yet arrived. He was busy, he wrote, in making some inter- 
 esting examinations of pre-historic cities, and he would soon 
 return. The postponement of the nuptials had been wil- 
 lingly acceded to by Miriam, as she did not wish to inter- 
 rupt him in a work in which he took so great an interest. 
 
 Thus matters stood, when Miriam's meditations were so 
 unceremoniously disturbed by the abrupt entrance of the 
 peddler. Miriam, who had never yet kept a secret from her 
 
THE SEARCH THE LETTER. 1{ 
 
 mother, described to her the whole scene. Mrs. Howard 
 expressed the opinion that over-anxiety had caused all this 
 to be presented to her mind in a dream. 
 
 " But," said Miriam, " I was not anxious, and was never 
 in a better humor with myself and the whole world. I was, 
 in fact, just laughing at the idea of having a petrified rival." 
 
 Miriam was anxious for another interview with the ped- 
 dler, but she had no clew to his whereabouts. She would 
 have liked to have thought it all a dream, but she felt the 
 reality too vividly for that. She took her brother Henry 
 into her confidence, and he, becoming interested also in this 
 seeming mystery, promised to find the peddler for her, if 
 possible. After a sleepless night, Miriam, accompanied by 
 Henry, took the early train for San Francisco, and by noon 
 was in close consultation with the Chief of Police. She had 
 drawn a hasty sketch of the peddler, from memory, which 
 she gave to the detective. 
 
 "Money," she said to the Captain, "is no object. I must 
 have another interview with that man, and he can have no 
 reason in the world for avoiding it." 
 
 ' ' Except, " replied the Qhief , * ' that he may fear the con- 
 fiscation of that nice little package of precious stones, which 
 he says have never seen the Custom House. But, neverthe- 
 less, I think I can find him." 
 
 "I do not wish," said Miriam, "to harm a hair of his 
 head, or to injure him in purse, and I hope you will not 
 consider yourself bound to remember the pack. In fact, I 
 think, as you are at work for me, you should take no advan- 
 tage of information I have been compelled to give you." 
 
 " Certainly not, Miss," returned the urbane officer, "I. 
 shall be at your command. But first let us try the effect of 
 a little advertisement." 
 
 The following was then written and inserted the next day 
 in the personal column of the dailies : 
 
 "If the peddler who called at the house on the Alameda, 
 between San Jose and Santa Clara, last Monday, and offered 
 to sell a curious ring, will return again, he will be paid 
 
14 SACRIFICE. 
 
 ihree times the amount he asked for it. Should there be 
 any one whom he fears to meet, the young lady pledges her- 
 self to stand between him and all harm, either to purse or 
 ^person." 
 
 Miriam returned home to await developments. At the 
 end of a week the Chief of Police called upon her. She 
 ^saw him coming up the avenue, and hurried to meet him at 
 the door. The usual salutations over, she conducted him to 
 the library, where, scarcely waiting for him to be seated, she 
 eagerly questioned : 
 
 " Have you found my peddler ? " 
 
 " It is a queer case, Miss Howard," he said. " I sent one 
 of the shrewdest men on the police force down here to hunt 
 up some clew to him. He ascertained that the peddler had 
 -not called at any other house in this neighborhood, or in the 
 ity, and could find no clew whatever to his whereabouts. 
 I had about made up my mind, Miss Howard, that it was all 
 the result of your own imagination. The mind has some- 
 times strange hallucinations. I started down yesterday to 
 tell you that I could do nothing with the case; but, just as 
 the train left Redwood City, I looked out of the window of 
 the car, and saw your peddler trudging along in the direction 
 of that village. I was struck with -astonishment at the cor- 
 rectness of your picture of him. As I thrust my head out 
 of the window, our eyes met. At that moment the expres- 
 .sion on his face was quizzical in the extreme, and said as 
 .plainly as words could have done: 'I know you, old boy, 
 and I know who you are looking for. When you find me, 
 let me know.' That look was a challenge. My profes- 
 sional ire was aroused, and jumping to the bell-rope I 
 pulled as though the train was on the verge of a precipice. 
 The engine slackened up, and, without stopping to ^explain 
 to the conductor, I jumped off. There was less than a 
 .quarter of a mile between us when I got off, and I would not 
 have given a man ten dollars to have ensured me his capture. 
 He was such a marked character that no one could have 
 .helped noticing him. I went back to Redwood, and made 
 
THE SEARCH THE LETTER. 15 
 
 a thorough search. No one had seen him. I became 
 excited and offered five hundred dollars reward to any one 
 who would find him. The country all about was scoured ; 
 but no trace of him, high or low, could be found. I have 
 almost fancied that I myself had fallen asleep, and dreamed 
 that I saw him. It is the queerest case, Miss Howard, that 
 I ever undertook to handle." 
 
 " You did not dream," said Miriam, in a tone of certainty. 
 " You are not that kind of a man, and I flatter myself that 
 even though found insenible, I am not one of the nervous, 
 dreamy sort." 
 
 "Well, what shall we do next?" queried the chief. 
 
 "Kelaxnot your search; find him, if possible." 
 
 Soon after the departure of the officer a letter was handed 
 to Miriam, who, seeing that the post-mark was Jerusalem, 
 hastened to her room, that she might enjoy its contents 
 undisturbed. Eagerly she tore it open and read: 
 
 " CONVENT or MAR SABA, , 187-. 
 
 " My own dear Miriam: As the Patriarch, having been on 
 a visit to these good monks, is on the point of returning to 
 Jerusalem, I avail myself of his kind offer to be the bearer 
 of letters as far as that city. In your last, you say that you 
 cannot see what holds me in such a God-cursed country as I 
 have described this to be. It is destiny, my dear Miriam 
 DESTINY. I would gladly break the chain which holds me 
 here and fly to the side of her whom I prize above all earthly 
 treasures; but if the finger of God has pointed out a part 
 for a man to play in the drama of life, it becomes him to act 
 it out like a man. Terrible are the responsibilities some- 
 times placed upon one pair of human shoulders. I know, 
 Miriam, that you are a brave woman, and that if I should 
 fall at my post, doing duty, that while you would ever hold 
 my memory sacred, and, that knowing all, you would go 
 down to the grave with my likeness upon your heart, you 
 would have no vain regrets that I did not fly the post 
 assigned me, that we might enjoy together a brief span of 
 happiness. 
 
16 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " But, dearest, I do not write to sadden you, nor would 1 
 fill your heart with forebodings of evil. If I do not come 
 to you in a few months from now, a trusty messenger will 
 bring you a history of my operations here. 
 
 "'God-cursed country!' You are right, Miriam. But 
 you who have never seen it cannot measure the awful import 
 of those words. He who spoke, and the world was, laid 
 His finger in anger on this spot, and utter ruin and desola- 
 tion followed. I have found ruins that no human eye but 
 mine has beheld. I have been among the ancient dead, and 
 have read there the fate of nations. It makes me realize 
 how like a meteor is this life a momentary flash, then all is 
 gone forever. Should one miss the enjoyment of it, how 
 little he would have lost ! 
 
 ' ' My health was never better. Exposure and a rough life 
 seem to agree with me. If I should ever get back to Cali- 
 fornia, I expect I shall be obliged to have a bed made of 
 salt, asphaltum, coal-tar, sulphur, and a little of every 
 odoriferous compound, before I can sleep. 
 
 "This convent, as I have before told you, is several miles 
 from the Dead Sea and some hundreds of feet above it, and, 
 although this would not be an inviting place to ' an immi- 
 grant,' it is a paradise when compared with the surroundings 
 of the sea. 
 
 " By the way, I met with a little adventure the other day, 
 which might be of some interest to you. I had camped all 
 alone at the mouth of this ravine Wady-en-Nar and early 
 next morning, during a dead calm, took my boat and sailed 
 along the coast to Ain Jidy, and from there across the sea to 
 the eastern shore. There I went on foot a short distance 
 into the land of Moab, to the veritable cavern in which Lot 
 sought refuge when he fled from Sodom. I have satisfied 
 myself beyond all doubt as to the identity of the cavern 
 and the ruins. It was near nightfall when I entered the 
 cavern with my torches; but, as night is as good as day for 
 such an expedition, it made not the least difference. I 
 prowled around here all night, making a number of interest- 
 
THE SEARCH THE LETTER. 17 
 
 ing discoveries. At length, in one of the deepest recesses 
 of this cavern, I came across a well-preserved old gentle- 
 man, who might have been contemporary with Lot himself, 
 for aught I know to the contrary. On proceeding to make a 
 closer acquaintance with him, I was struck with the appear- 
 ance of a curious ring upon one of his fingers. It simulated 
 a serpent, coiled twice around the finger. The eyes, by 
 torchlight, seemed to glare at me, and the tongue extending 
 from its mouth seemed to fairly hiss. The ring was of gold; 
 but the gems of the eyes and the metal of the tongue I can- 
 not describe, for never before have I seen anything like 
 unto them. Well, I borrowed this ring from this nice old 
 gentleman, and left the cavern, reaching the boat about 
 daylight. Just as I was about to step in, I was seized by a 
 band of wild Arabs, who had been lying in wait for me. 
 These were of a roving tribe, and did not belong to any of 
 those that occupy the territory immediately surrounding the 
 sea. I have been on the most friendly terms with those 
 around here, especially the Ghaurariyehs on the eastern, 
 and the Kashayindehs on the western shore. I thought I 
 could conciliate them, when I addressed them in their own 
 language, and explained that I had been in these parts a 
 great while, and that I had no money or property of which 
 to be robbed. Notwithstanding my eloquence, they deter- 
 mined to keep me prisoner until I could get a ransom of five 
 hundred dollars. The very excellent Superior of the Con- 
 vent of Mar Saba had been acting as my banker for some 
 months that is, I left all my cash and valuables in his 
 hands and I was about to place in the hands of the Chief 
 an order on him, for the demanded amount, when at this 
 opportune moment there came along an old Jew, whom I had 
 met before on several interesting occasions, and seeing the 
 predicament I was in, he volunteered to assist me by paying 
 the ransom. He would take no acknowledgment from me of 
 the debt, saying he did it for the sake of the friendship 
 existing between us, and only asked as a keepsake the little 
 trinket I wore upon my hand, meaning the curious ring I 
 
18 SACKIFICE. 
 
 had found. Of course I could not refuse, though I knew 
 that the ring was of far greater value, from its antiquity, 
 than the amount of the ransom. The robbers knew him, and 
 taking his word for tlie payment of the demand, released 
 me, with the promise that none of their tribe should ask 
 tribute of me again; and the Arab robber always respects 
 this sort of an agreement. 
 
 "Somehow, I have been regretting ever since my adven- 
 ture, that I did not carry out my first intention, and send to 
 the convent for the money, instead of giving up my ring; 
 but it would have taken one of them about three days to go 
 and come, as you could not get a wild Arab to cross the 
 waters of the Dead Sea, as I had done, for love nor money. 
 I have been wishing to see the old Jew again that I might 
 once more gain possession of the ring. 
 
 " The other day, a party of tourists came along by the 
 convent, and were overtaken lay a storm of wind and rain. 
 The good monks are the most hospitable creatures in the 
 world; but as they are cloistered, their vows prevent them 
 from seeing women, or holding any conversation with them. 
 Here was a predicament, and I do not know how it would 
 have been overcome to the satisfaction of either party, had 
 it not been for the presence of your humble servant, who is 
 yet permitted to look upon the naughty sex. 
 
 "As I have written you before, this convent is built from 
 the ravine up entirely to the top of the cliff some 400 feet 
 which is honey-combed with excavations. One of these 
 excavations is outside the convent proper, and I was 
 appointed to lead the tourists into that for shelter. Judge 
 of my surpise and delight, when I found that the party were 
 all Californians, and most of them acquaintances. Amongst 
 their number was your lively friend, Agnes Bonhain, and her 
 brother Jack. They said they were going to turn their steps 
 homeward in a few days, and they will doubtless arrive as 
 soon as this epistle. I became the guide the dragoman 
 of this party for the next day. I promised to show them some 
 curious things if they would only follow me among them, 
 
THE SEARCH THE LETTER. 19 
 
 certainly, the ruins of Gomorrah and Lot's Cave; but the 
 ladies, and, I fear me much, the men , could have ill borne 
 the exposure of such a trip; so they were obliged to be satis- 
 fied with skimming around one corner of the sea. 
 
 "How unsatisfactory would be to me this flying life of the 
 tourist! They travel over the world, but they see nothing. 
 I took this party down the coast as far south as Ain Jidy, 
 and showed them where 'David went up and dwelt in the 
 strongholds of Engaddi.' I showed them here some of my own 
 discoveries, which caused many exclamations of wonder. As 
 Agnes will want to have something to talk about when she sees 
 you, I will say no more, but leave it to her to tell the rest. 
 
 "When it comes to say good-bye, even in a letter, 
 dearest Miriam, I am sad again, and while I love you beyond 
 all other earthly loves, a regret sometimes will creep into my 
 heart that your pure, innocent life must depend, for its 
 happiness, on one whom destiny seems to be leading on to 
 what ? I cannot say. Have I dwelt amongst the dead so 
 long have I robbed the past of so many of its mysteries, 
 that my own existence has become linked with theirs ? Oh, 
 Miriam, pray for me ! Pray for me as you have never prayed 
 before. Once He whose name I am scarce worthy to utter 
 prayed that the bitter cup might pass the* bitter cup which 
 love itself pressed to His lips. But, loved one, adieu. 
 Devotedly your own, "HuGH ASHBY." 
 
 Every word of this letter sank deeply into Miriam's heart. 
 Taken in connection with the visit of the Jew, and her own 
 apparent vision on looking at the ring, there seemed a 
 mystery somewhere that quite overwhelmed her. She sat 
 with the letter 'in her hand and tried to think, but* she 
 seemed to have no premises from which to reason. Some 
 great calamity seemed to hover over her lover. What was 
 it? No feeling of jealousy, however, entered her mind on 
 account of the beautiful woman of her vision. That he was 
 true and noble, and entirely devoted to her, she felt certain . 
 Could she as sist him ? Oh, for another interview with the 
 peddler! 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 FTEE several days of nervous anxiety, of restless 
 days and more restless nights, Miriam, on picking 
 up the paper one morning, read among the list of 
 passengers westward bound from Ogden the name 
 of her friend, Agnes Bonham. It was some satis- 
 faction at least to know that she could soon talk with 
 one who had so lately seen and talked with him she 
 loved so well. In fact, she was just beginning to realize 
 the full strength of her affection for Hugh Ashby. A thou- 
 sand times a day she questioned herself, ' ' What shall I do ? 
 What can I do ? " But she had not, as yet, arrived at even 
 an approximate solution of the questions. She began to 
 feel like a mere walking and talking machine, for she found 
 it impossible to keep her mind on any subject of conversa- 
 tion brought up. The train which was to bring her friend 
 Agnes seemed an age in crossing the Sierras; but it did 
 arrive in due time, and Miriam, in her own carriage, went 
 to meet her at the de"pot. 
 
 Agnes' parents lived some five miles from San Jose, and 
 had sent a conveyance to the de"pot to carry the travelers 
 home. Miriam told Jack that he might get himself home 
 alone in the carriage sent for them, for that she herself was 
 going to drive Agnes out, as she was impatient to have a 
 talk with her. Jack laughed in a knowing manner, and 
 drove off, leaving Agnes and Miriam to follow. 
 
 " Now, dear Agnes," commenced Miriam, as soon as they 
 were alone, and even before the driver could get turned 
 around at the station, "' I do not intend to let you ask a sin- 
 gle question about what has been going on around San Jose 
 for the last year, anxious as I know you to be, until you tell 
 me all about Hugh dear, good, old Hugh ! I had a letter 
 
THE BETUEN. 21 
 
 from him the other day, in which he spoke of having seen 
 you. Did he send any message ? Does he look natural ? 
 Is his health good ? Does he look sad ? Well, tell me all 
 vou know ! " 
 
 m 
 
 " Oh, my! " exclaimed Agnes, " what a jolly thing it must 
 be to be in love! One would think that Hugh Ashby was 
 the only fish in the sea, and that your life depended on 
 catching him." 
 
 " He is the only fish, Agnes, in my sea; but I sometimes 
 fear that my sea is the Dead Sea, where they say that fish 
 will not live." 
 
 " Come now, Miriam, don't speak so sadly, and I will 
 answer all your questions about Hugh. He is a jolly good 
 fellow, and I only wish I had a beau like him. I would 
 have spread my net for him, even on the Dead Sea, had I 
 not known that he was your exclusive property. But, to 
 answer your questions, he sent all sorts of word to you. He 
 looks as natural as life, except that he is so tanned that he is 
 almost as black as an Arab; but he is an awfully fine-looking 
 fellow for all that. His health is remarkably good, especially 
 for one who has been so long sojourning in such an infernal 
 there, I almost swore, didn't I, Miriam ? Excuse me, if 
 you please, but if you ever see that country you will be 
 tempted to call it by the same naughty name. Well, let's 
 see what was the other question? Oh! 'Don't he look 
 sad ? ' Well, I declare, I had not thought about that, but 
 since you come to speak of it, I did catch him looking sad 
 two or three times, and I slapped his cheeks for it, and told 
 him not to let us remind him too much of you. Oh, he is 
 such a splendid fellow ! Don't you know, if I had not loved 
 you, I would have fallen in love with him, in spite of myself ? 
 I believe I told you that before, but if you want to get jeal- 
 ous, old lady, go ahead," and Agnes laughed saucily in 
 Miriam's face. " What else shall I tell you about him? But 
 let me tell you before I go any further he loves you. The 
 way his voice would soften and become musical, his eyes 
 beam, and his countenance light up with the depth of his 
 
22 SACRIFICE. 
 
 love when he spoke of you, made me almost envy you the 
 possession of such a true heart." 
 
 Although Miriam had never for one moment doubted her 
 lover's fidelity, yet the reassuring words of her friend, given 
 in her off-hand, rattling way, was a balm to her troubled 
 feelings. He loved her he was in the possession of health 
 and vigor his mind was strong and unimpaired; then why 
 should she feel uneasy? But the words of his own letter 
 were so full of forebodings, that, her thoughts recurring to 
 them, she became again saddened in spite of her efforts to 
 overcome that feeling. "Tell me, Agnes," she said, "did 
 you find out what he was doing ? Did you see enough to 
 guess at the attractions which keep him in such a place ? 
 Tell me all about what he did and said. Tell me of his sur- 
 roundings, and of his work." 
 
 "Did he tell you in his letter how we happened to find 
 him?" , 
 
 " Yes, he told me something about it; but go on and tell 
 it in your own way." 
 
 " Well, one fine morning our party started out from Jeru- 
 salem to go down by the borders of the Dead Sea, and 
 thence up the Jordan to the noted Biblical places on that 
 stream. Our way lay down the Kidron, a sort of dry ravine, 
 on which is located, about midway down, the Greek Convent 
 of Mar Saba, inhabited by a jolly lot of old monks, who are 
 afraid of a woman. We expected to get water and camp 
 near by for the night; although there is hardly a level place 
 in that locality big enough to pitch a tent upon. Just as we 
 neared the convent a terrific thunder-storm let loose upon 
 us. Our guides began looking about for some shelter- 
 there was no use, they told us, of asking to have women 
 admitted within the convent, as it was against the rules. 
 The horrid old monks! wonder what they are afraid of 
 women for ? Guess they were bad boys, and their mothers 
 had to 'bend their necks and beat their sides,' and from 
 that took a distaste to woman-kind in general; or, I wonder, 
 as I told Hugh, if they ever had any mothers. 
 
THE RETURN. 23 
 
 "Well," continued Agnes, scarcely pausing for breath, 
 "just at this moment, when we were expecting to weather 
 the storm, your Hugh dropped down among us like some 
 Heaven-sent messenger of old. I was awfully glad to see 
 him not only because he proposed to lead us to shelter, 
 but I liked him, and loved his sweetheart; or fix it around 
 vice versa, if you like. Without stopping to shake hands or 
 exchange greetings, Hugh hastily led us to a house cut out 
 of the solid rock. It was not a cave, but a nice little house 
 in all fls appointments. Our servants made a fire and pre- 
 pared supper. After drying our drenched garments, and 
 satisfying our ravenous appetites, we sat down to have a 
 chat. Hugh had managed to get me off on a stone bench, 
 apart from the rest you know how the men can manage these 
 things and we had a nice little confab about home, and 
 more particularly about a certain young lady, then supposed 
 to be thinking of at least one of us. 
 
 " Hugh knew I was your 'right hand man,' so he could 
 talk as freely as he chose. I began to banter him. 
 
 " How does it happen, Mr. Ashby," I queried, " that we 
 fin.d you in such a place as this, and your wedding day so 
 near at hand ? You will have to do some fast travelling to 
 be on hand at the appointed hour. Miriam told me to be 
 sure to be at home by that time, and I have been worrying 
 myself to death, and scolding my companions on account of 
 delays, and here I find the bridegroom caged up with a lot 
 of woman-hating old monks ! " 
 
 "Miriam Howard," he said, slowly and emphatically, "is 
 a true woman. I have written her not to expect me at any 
 appointed time, and she will know that matters of vast im- 
 portance hinder me." 
 
 " Oh, fie! Mr. Ashby," I exclaimed. "Ain't you ashamed 
 of yourself ? What could be of more importance than get- 
 ting married ? " , 
 
 " I do not know of anything in the ordinary lin,e, Miss 
 Bonham, more important," he said; "but men are not 
 always entirely free agents. There is a divinity that shapes 
 
24 SACRIFICE. 
 
 our ends, rough hew them as we may. If some friend were 
 doomed to die, and if, by some sacrifice you could save him, 
 would you not consider it your duty to make it ? " 
 
 "That friend," I replied, "ought to be under lasting 
 obligations to you, for disappointing, not only yourself, but 
 so noble a girl as Miriam Howard. But do you not know, 
 Mr. Ashby, that ingratitude is so often the return for such 
 sacrifices that it makes one feel ill-natured with one's self 
 for having made them ? " 
 
 "If I were seeking nothing more than gratitude, Miss 
 Bonham, I should be at this moment at the side of Miss 
 Howard, and you might have been out in the storm." 
 
 "Then it was the foreknowledge that we were coming 
 which detained you in this God-forsaken place ? " 
 
 " Foreknowledge, Miss Bonham, is not often given to man, 
 and certainly never to me. Our hearts would sometimes 
 quail could they see into the future. Suppose you could tell 
 the exact day when each of your friends would die, and when 
 you, yourself, were to be called upon to enter the realms of 
 the great unknown, do you think you could ever see a happy 
 day ? I have tried sometimes to lift the veil of futurity, but 
 have at last settled down to let each day be the arbiter of 
 its own events. / can see how the current of the stream is set- 
 ting, and I can reason as to where it must end; but some- 
 time the current of one's life is like a strange river, of which 
 there is no chart. Sometimes we seem to manage our vessel 
 but occasionally we feel that an unseen hand is at the helm ." 
 
 "His manner and his emphasis, more than his words, 
 made me remember all he said." 
 
 "Then he seemed impressed," said Miriam, "with the idea 
 of some impending evil. Did you get the impression that 
 he had given the rudder of his life-boat entirely into these 
 unseen hands ? " 
 
 "I did not get such an impression at the time, but I have 
 been puzzling my brains and you will think that a wonder 
 ever since, about that queer man; that is, the man is not 
 queer, but his doings are. Why, it turned out in the course 
 
THE RETURN. 25 
 
 of his conversations with us that he was in the habit of dig- 
 ging down into some old ruin, and when he got tired, lie 
 down and sleep among a lot of four thousand year old mum- 
 mies. Ugh! He is very certain that he has found Gomor- 
 rah on the south-western shore of the Dead Sea. He had 
 inscriptions, which he read to us, which proved this. He 
 will startle the world with the account of his discoveries 
 when he gets ready to leave that horrid place." 
 
 " Mr. Ashby," I said, jestingly, "you have slept with the 
 dead of Gomorrah, and now I suppose your ambition will 
 not be satisfied until you have spent a night with the Sodom- 
 ites?" 
 
 "God in His wrath," he replied, "sank Sodom too deep 
 for the energy of man to ever reach, and hence man must be 
 satisfied with finding out what he can about it, without enter- 
 ing the city." 
 
 "He was with you all the next day, was he not?" asked 
 Miriam. 
 
 "Oh, yes, two days. He said that the hardships to the 
 party would be too great to undertake to visit his wondrous 
 ruins at Gomorrah, but he promised us that when we got 
 down to the sea, if the weather was suitable, he would take 
 us down to Engaddi now called Ain Jidy and show us the 
 veritable cavern in which David took refuge when pursued 
 by Saul. But here we are at the gate, and dear mamma is 
 coming down to meet us. Come in and I will tell you all 
 about this after awhile." 
 
 ' ' No, " said Miriam, ' ' your dear parents will want you to- 
 day all to themselves after your long absence. I will come 
 over to-morrow or next day, and we will have a long talk." 
 
 Agnes alighted, embraced her mother and ran to the 
 house, kissing and embracing younger brothers and sisters 
 as she came to them. Miriam looked after her light-hearted 
 friend, and breathed a prayer that trouble might always be a 
 stranger to her. She then ordered the coachman to turn the 
 horses homewards, and to drive slowly. She wanted time 
 to think, and the out-door surroundings, with the invigorat- 
 
26 SACRIFICE. 
 
 ing sea breeze which fanned her brow through the, open 
 carriage window seemed more in unison with her feelings 
 than the interior of any room, howsoever elegant its appoint- 
 ments. 
 
 "To think! There are times when one could almost wish 
 one had not the power of thought. That ring! Was the 
 Jew simply a mesmerist, and had he made her see these 
 things through some freak of his fancy? Then, Hugh's 
 letter, and his talk with Miss Bonham were so strange. Yet, 
 might not every line and every word be capable of the sim- 
 plest solution ? And the peddler ? He had escaped the 
 vigilant search of the officers; but had not long practice in 
 smuggling and eluding the vigilance of the police given him 
 a sort of intuition, which made escape easy? Was it not 
 possible that he had a dozen disguises ? " But this mode of 
 reasoning brought no satisfaction, and she said to herself: 
 "Hugh Ashby is a brave man. If the hand of destiny 
 seems to be leading him on to unknown results, he will fol- 
 low with an undaunted heart. For good, or for evil, my 
 destiny is linked with his. His bride shall be worthy of 
 him. Let the current of the stream set as it will let the 
 unseen hand grasp the tiller and direct it as it may, Miriam 
 Howard is prepared to meet her fate." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HOWARDS. 
 
 )IKIAM came to the breakfast table the next morn- 
 ing after Agnes' return, with a smile upon her lips;, 
 but a close observer would have noticed that it was 
 a smile born of determination rather than of happi- 
 ness. The stranger, to have seen this family, as 
 Miriam glided into the room and saluted each father, 
 mother and brother with a loving kiss would have 
 thought it as happy a group as he had ever witnessed. And, 
 with one exception, it perhaps was. They had all felt anx- 
 ious about Miriam when she had talked of the visit of the 
 peddler, but on seeing her enter the room with her usual 
 buoyant step, while the old smile seemed to have returned 
 to her face, each of the others felt cause for congratulation. 
 James Howard, now sixty years of age or thereabouts, 
 and hale and hearty as one twenty years his junior, was a 
 handsome-looking old man. Although Time, in passing; 
 over his head, had with his frosty finger traced his record 
 on hair and benrd, yet he stood erect and portly in his six 
 feet of manhood. All his life he had enjoyed the best of 
 health, and temperate habits had added vigor to a naturally 
 strong constitution. His face, with prominent, well-marked 
 features, beamed with intelligence and benevolence a face 
 to which the poor and needy were instinctively attracted, 
 and never sent away disappointed and the merry twinkle 
 of his keen black eye showed that the love of fun had not 
 departed with his bygone years. His wife, a frail, gentle 
 little woman, some ten years younger than himself, had been 
 for several years past almost an invalid, and was the object 
 of a tender, devoted love and anxious solicitude, from both 
 husband and children. Henry, the son, now thirty, and 
 eight years older than his sister Miriam, was almost the 
 counterpart of his father, tall, handsome and prepossessing.. 
 
2 SACRIFICE. 
 
 Ambitious and energetic, lie had already made himself a 
 State reputation as a lawyer. Miriam seemed to partake of 
 the characteristics of both father and mother. The beauti- 
 iul, expressive gray eye, cameo-like features, and easy, 
 refined manners, were the mother's heritage to her child; 
 the glossy black hair, fine, well-developed figure, and a 
 vigorous constitution, were from the father. 
 
 After they had been seated at the table, and thanks had 
 been returned to the Giver of all good and perfect gifts for 
 the bread they were about to break, Mr. Howard said : 
 
 "I don't know what you may all think about it, but I have 
 been gambling." 
 
 "You gambling, papa!" exclaimed Miriam, in amaze- 
 ment, scarcely believing her ears; but on looking in her 
 father's eyes she saw that all had not been told. 
 
 Mrs. Howard, sitting at the head of the table in the 
 quietest of morning toilets, filling with her own fair hands 
 the delicate china cups with the steaming tea and coffee, 
 smiled indulgently; for well she knew her husband's propen- 
 sity for a jest. 
 
 "Explain yourself, my dear," she said. 
 
 "Yes, I've been gambling, and the meanest sort of gam- 
 bling at that just such gambling as I told Henry I would 
 disinherit him for, if I caught him at it." 
 
 "Ah! I see," said Henry. " Papa has been selling short 
 on Consolidated Virginia, and has been caught. His theory 
 has been for some time that the mine was rated too high, 
 but it has gone steadily up. If I had not been afraid of his 
 wrath, I might have made a handsome thing on my judg- 
 ment that it would go still higher." 
 
 "You are a pretty good guesser, Mr. Harry," replied Mr. 
 Howard. "I sold Consolidated Virginia, but it was all in 
 hand. I was not caught." 
 
 " Bought against your own judgment, eh? " 
 
 1 'It happened in this wise: Some months ago, when 
 stocks were clear down, John Simkins had a note for five 
 thousand dollars fall due at the bank; and all he had on 
 
THE HOWARDS. 2$ 
 
 which to raise the money was some Consolidated Virginia 
 stock, worth at that time not more than four thousand dol- 
 lars. He came to me and asked me to save his credit by 
 paying the note and taking the stock, promising to pay the 
 balance as soon as he was able. It was my judgment that 
 the sharps would soon put it up, and I advanced John the 
 money on condition that he would never again engage in 
 that species of gambling, and took the stock. I held on to 
 it until yesterday, when I thought it had reached about as 
 high a point of inflation as it could be forced to, and I sold. 
 I realized on this twenty thousand dollars profit, and as it 
 was a forced sale on John's part he insisting that it would 
 go to double its value when I got it, I gave him his three 
 thousand dollars, which highly delighted him. Now I have 
 seventeen thousand dollars left on the 'winning.' That's the 
 technical name, is it not, Henry ? " 
 
 "I think," said Henry, "you had better turn that surplus 
 over to me, as it was I who argued with you about that time 
 that Consolidated Virginia would be a good buy. It is 
 hardly fair, old gentleman, for you to get the points from 
 me, command me on pain of your displeasure not to engage 
 in that business, and then make a turn yourself on my 
 knowledge and foresight." 
 
 " Better give it to the poor," remarked Mrs. Howard, 
 "for it is the poor who suffer from these fluctuations in 
 stocks. Many a poor man with a large family on his hands 
 will lose his all when they take the downward grade." 
 
 "If we could relieve all those cases, or could find the 
 most deserving of them, I would gladly give up any profit I 
 might have made accidentally on stocks; but we cannot, 
 and, as I bought from a man whom I have twice pleased, 
 and sold to one who will not be affected by any break in the 
 market, I do not feel that I am at all responsible for the 
 misery caused by stock gambling. But what has Miss 
 Miriam to say about it? Offer it as a reward to any one who 
 will deliver to her a certain young gentleman, who has stolen 
 her heart and will not return with it ? " 
 
30 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "I would gladly give that, sir, and more. I would re- 
 nounce forever wealth and its luxuries if I could only be 
 assured that all was well." 
 
 A shadow passed over the merry face of the father as his 
 daughter's words sank into his heart; but in accordance with 
 his maxim, that "Dull care shall not have a seat at my 
 table," he, with an effort, resumed his usual blithe manner. 
 It had always been, even when Mr. Howard was engaged in 
 an active business that required his closest attention, that 
 ihere was a happy reunion of the family at meal time. The 
 children have grown up, holding in greatest reverence both 
 father and mother, at the same time regarding them almost 
 .as companions, and feared not to discourse in their presence 
 with the same freedom as in that of persons of their own agev 
 The parents had always encouraged a kindly familiarity on 
 the part of their children, which, instead of engendering 
 disrespect, had ripened into a loving confidence. There had 
 always been the greatest freedom of discourse between 
 them. Even when business matters, as was often the case, 
 were the topic of conversation for Mr. Howard had great 
 confidence in the good sense and judgment of his frail little 
 wife the children were not sent away with some invented 
 excuse, but allowed to express their opinions in a quiet, 
 respectful manner; so, as with their growing years and ripen- 
 ing understanding they came to have a full knowledge of 
 their father's business affairs, there was scarcely a time when 
 either of them could not have told to within a few dollars 
 the value of his estate. 
 
 "I'll tell you what we'll do," said Mr. Howard, in manner 
 and tone as though struck by a happy thought. "We'll 
 have a jolly good spree. We will shut up the house or leave 
 it in charge of Mrs. Knowles, and we will all go to Europe 
 perhaps take in Palestine and," giving a roguish look at 
 Miriam, " perhaps the Dead !Sea." 
 
 "Will not Hugh Ashby think us over-anxious to capture 
 him, if we should go so far to find him ? " suggested Henry. 
 " I tell Miriam that there are as good fish in the sea as ever 
 
THE HOWARDS. 31 
 
 were caught, and if her lover chooses to go crazy after mum- 
 mies and antiquities, to her neglect, why let him go, I say," 
 " That will do very well to talk to some of your clients who 
 paid for your advice,' 7 replied the father, "but human nature 
 is human nature. Before Miriam dared to give her heart 
 entirely to Hugh Ashby, she consulted me about it, and I 
 gave it as my opinion that she would be safe in loving him 
 if he loved her; nor have I as yet seen any just cause for 
 altering that opinion. Neither are we hunting up one who 
 has won her love only to desert her. Miriam feels that there 
 is some mysterious cause that holds him there, and I can't 
 reason her out of that fancy; but if she find him false to 
 her, she could give him up in a day. And, besides that," 
 continued the old gentleman, getting a little warm, "we 
 have the means to travel if we wish, and who has any right 
 to question our motives ? All the use I ever had for money, 
 and all the inducement I ever had for struggling for its pos- 
 session, was to buy happiness for one of us four. Money 
 will not always buy happiness, as we can see in Miriam's 
 case; but my girl shall not suffer if any exertions or any 
 means of her old father will relieve her. Hugh is not com- 
 ing home immediately, and the excitement of travel will da 
 her good, even if we do not go near him. We will start, and, 
 as we go along, be guided by our own inclinations and our 
 own pleasure. What do you say to that, mamma ? " 
 
 At this generous speech of her father the tears rose to 
 Miriam's eyes, and, rising from her place at the table, she 
 went round to where he sat, and, throwing her arms around 
 his neck, kissed him over and over again. 
 
 Mr. Howard pushed his chair back, and pulling Miriam 
 down to his knee, smoothed her hair in a caressing way and 
 pinched her cheek, saying he must devote some of his time 
 towards restoring the rosebuds to it, which in the last fort- 
 night had begun to fade. "And, besides," he added, lest 
 Miriam should shrink from putting them all to so much 
 trouble on her own account, " the trip will do mamma good. 
 I think we can bring her back a new woman. And Henry, 
 
32 SACKIFICE. 
 
 I know, will enjoy it, and for that matter, profit by it, too. 
 Then, for me, I will have the j oiliest time ever a tourist did 
 have." 
 
 "You ask my opinion about it,' 7 said Mrs. Howard, "and 
 then go on and decide what is to be done without giving me 
 a chance to say a word." 
 
 " Well, little wife, go on, now, and have your say. You 
 know the decrees of this court are not irrevocable. In fact, 
 it can change around almost as easily as the Supreme Court 
 of California. No member of this family shall be required 
 to do anything absolutely distasteful to him or her." 
 
 " I would like the trip," said Mrs. Howard, " and besides 
 I think we had better get off for a year or so, for fear that 
 papa's stock-gambling mania may lead to something serious. 
 Get him out of _the way of temptation, you know." 
 
 "Good, good!" laughed Henry. "On that ground, and 
 on that alone, I will withdraw all objections! I will be 
 ready to start in ten days or two weeks at farthest; as soon 
 as I can get my business so arranged that I can turn it all 
 over to Tom Laine, or, where he is interested, to Charley 
 Silent." 
 
 "I admit the force of the thrust," responded Mr. Howard, 
 good-humoredly, ' ' and as an earnest of reformation I here- 
 by appropriate my entire winning for the purposes of the 
 expedition! But, dear me," pulling Miriam's head down 
 upon his shoulder, and imprinting a kiss upon her forehead, 
 "we have not had a word from Miss Miriam. How does she 
 vote?" 
 
 " Actions," said Mrs. Howard, " speak louder than words, 
 and those kisses that papa got awhile ago, spoke more than 
 Miriam could tell in words in an hour." 
 
 " I had scarcely dared to hope for anything so perfectly in 
 accordance with my feelings," said Miriam. "The only 
 fear I have is, that some of you may get linked in some way 
 with my destiny. I have felt for a fortnight past, and I feel 
 it more than ever this morning, that I am being led by an 
 unseen hand on, on, to what end God alone knows !" 
 
THE HOWARDS. 33 
 
 "That must be the hand of your Jew peddler, Minnie," 
 said Henry, lightly. 
 
 Mr. Howard shook his head at his son, and said: " We 
 must admit that Miriam has had enough lately to excite her 
 imagination to its greatest tension, but I think I have ac- 
 counted to her for everything in the most rational manner. 
 We all know that when ofie is interested in any matter of 
 vital importance, his feelings will influence him in spite of 
 his better sense; so we must not be too hard on Miriam; 
 must we, pet?" again caressing her fondly. "Hugh wrote 
 some time ago that he had found a broken tablet, upon which 
 there was some antique record which he could not make out 
 without the other part of it, and I will venture that he has 
 vowed to find that other piece before he leaves the borders 
 of that sea. As for any despondency in his letters, the only 
 wonder is that they are not more so. Other travelers find it 
 a great hardship to stay there a week. The liver becomes 
 torpid, and such an extreme drowsiness seizes them that 
 they would sleep if surrounded by hyenas; the very atmo- 
 sphere is one of despondency. And as for the old Jew, I 
 think robbery was his object. If mamma had not disturbed 
 him by her entrance, we would have known all about him by 
 missing articles of jewelry. You will not be bothered with 
 him again. Mesmerism is no new thing. Its Professors 
 have the person to sometimes look at a bright coin, or per- 
 haps a brilliant stone is so much the better. His having 
 a clew to Hugh answered his purpose so much the better." 
 
 " A sensible explanation," said Henry, " and one so clear 
 that I wonder how Miriam could see anything supernatural 
 in it. Any of the spiritualist quacks up at Ban Francisco 
 will give you more of a mystery for five dollars/' 
 
 And thus they sat and talked about the proposed tour, 
 until Henry, looking at his watch, jumped up suddenly, ex- 
 claiming: "By George! it is nearly eleven o'clock, and I 
 have an engagement to meet a client at that hour," and he 
 hurried away. They all now separated, agreeing to begin 
 preparations for the journey. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 HUGH. 
 I 
 
 *HEN Hugh Ashby left California for a tour of the 
 world, he chose to go alone, so that he might be 
 the master of his own actions, and feel under no 
 restraint. He went from San Francisco westward, 
 via the Sandwich Islands, Japan, China, India, and 
 the several smaller states of Asia. We now find him, one 
 bright morning, at the small city of Hillah, which is built 
 on the site of ancient Babylon. We take him up here not 
 that his travels, up to this point, had been devoid of adven- 
 ture or interest, but because it is here that events occur 
 which are connected indissolubly with the thread of this 
 narrative. 
 
 The inhabitants Turks, Jews and Arabs turned to look 
 after him as he walked the streets of their quiet city; and 
 no wonder, for Hugh Ashby was as magnificent a specimen 
 of young manhood as one would find in many long travels. 
 In his form nature had been lavish in her gifts. Of a noble 
 physique, tall and powerfully built, he carried himself as 
 proudly erect! as a Com#nche chief. A face full of living, 
 vigorous thought, with deep, dark eyes flashing out from 
 under the shadow of a high, massive forehead, from which 
 was tossed, in a careless fashion, the clustering, brown hair. 
 A large, yet well-formed nose, and mouth, shaded by its 
 heavy mustache, closing firmly upon the rows of regular, 
 white, strong-looking teeth the unshaven chin, with its 
 tawny, sun-bleached beard, reaching nearly to his waist, a 
 tout ensemble which made a picture of manly beauty, in which 
 determination and strength of character were visible in 
 every feature. 
 
 As Hugh wended his way through the queer little Asiatic 
 city, he could not have attracted more attention had he been 
 
HUGH. 35 
 
 one of the lions from the cave in which Daniel was cast; but 
 he walked on, seemingly wholly oblivious of their curious 
 regards. 
 
 He continued his course along the banks of the Euphrates, 
 and thence down that stream for a mile or more; then 
 turned off at right angles to the river, until he came to a 
 mound that seemed larger than the rest. There is nothing 
 now left to the eye of the traveler except a large number of 
 these elevations, or "heaps." Hugh climbed to the top of 
 this, and sat contemplating the fate of the most magnificent 
 city the world ever saw, but which would, perhaps, have had 
 no history, had not Nebuchadnezzar taken a fancy to capture 
 the Israelites and carry them in captivity into his realm. 
 Yet it was from Babylon that the Greeks derived their 
 learning. 
 
 " How fleeting," exclaimed Hugh, aloud, " are all earthly 
 things! Here, a few short years ago, dwelt a people capa- 
 ble of building a brick wall around their city fifty-six miles 
 long and three hundred and thirty-five feet high ! ' Babylon 
 shall become heaps,' wrote the prophet, even while she was 
 in the meridian of her glory, and 'heaps' it is! What 
 would give a people a more complete idea' of permanence 
 than the works which then existed around about, and in this 
 city; but decay marks everything human. When man grows 
 so wise and so proud, as to mock God, his overthrow is 
 certain! 'Thy wisdom and thy knowledge hath perverted 
 thee,' said Isaiah to the Babylonians, and it seems to per- 
 vert all humanity. No sooner does man get a smattering 
 of knowledge than he denies God. Is not the nineteenth 
 century bringing the desolation of Babylon on its civiliza- 
 tion ? Oh, that the presumptuous infidel could but see and 
 feel the lessons taught by thee, O Babylon ! " 
 
 '* Does de shentleman's vant von guide ?" said a voice at 
 his elbow. 
 
 Hugh looked up in astonishment that there was a living 
 soul near him, for he had only a short time before cast his 
 
36 SACRIFICE. 
 
 eyes around the entire horizon scanning the country far and 
 near. 
 
 11 1 was not looking for a guide just yet," replied he. "I 
 preferred first to take a look around, alone, but I may want 
 some assistance after awhile; especially some strong hands 
 to help remove a quantity of earth. But," he added, notic- 
 ing- that his companion was a diminutive old Jew, "I do not 
 think j r ou would be very good at such work." 
 
 " Better, maybes, dan you dinks." 
 
 " How long have you been hereabouts? " 
 
 "Oh, so long dime. Somedimes here, somedimes dere." 
 
 " Where did you get a knowledge of English ? " 
 
 "I peeks him up. I travels great deal. I vas in England 
 von dimes. Yas de shentleman's English ? " 
 
 "No; American." 
 
 " Von 'Merican, eh? I never been in 'Merica. Does de 
 shentlemans expect to stay here long ? " 
 
 "That depends on circumstances. I shall stay until I get 
 tired, then move on." 
 
 " But does he vish to find somedings? " 
 
 "That is my wish. Can you assist me in that line ? " 
 
 "It bees very hard to dells vat is under de ground, but 
 I sees very much about dese dings, an' I study 'bout him. 
 If de shentlemans bays ine for mine knowledge, why I gifs 
 it to him." 
 
 ' ' How much pay do you expect ? " 
 
 " Nobody ever find anydings here dat ish worth anydings. 
 Dey finds somedimes leetle pot; somedimes de brick mit de 
 mark vat dey reads leetle bit: but, you sees, dis de richest 
 city ever de vorld saw. Dere bees golt and much curious 
 dings somewhere here. I dinks I guess vhere to find him. 
 Now if de shentlemans haf de means to vork/ and I dells 
 him vhere to vork and he finds de curious dings, he keeps 
 him; but if he finds de golt dings I dakes half." 
 
 " Ah, I see it is a little game you have where there is some 
 chance to win and no chance to lose. If a dozen or so of 
 tourists would take up with your exceedingly fair proposi- 
 
HUGH. 37 
 
 tion, they might hit on something; and you would not be out 
 a great deal, if they did not." 
 
 "Veil, I dells you. If de shentlemans lets me serve he 
 can gifs me anydings vhat he bleases. Is dat a fair game." 
 
 " That is more like it; but I am free to tell you that I do 
 not expect to find 'de golf; if I find J de curious,' I shall 
 be satisfied. When can you get me some men to put to 
 work ? " 
 
 " I gets him to-morrow." 
 
 "All right. You get a lot of men, and put them to work 
 where you think best; in the meantime I will make such 
 explorations as will suit my own fancy." 
 
 " Can de shentlemans get von guard from de Government ? 
 If he finds somedings, some golt, de robbers dey take him." 
 
 ' ' We will see what we find first. But as you are after 'de 
 golt,' and I after 'de curious,' you have the greatest chance 
 to take, and I will risk as cunning an old rascal as you seem 
 to be on that, and you and I will not fight." 
 
 ' ' Yight ! " exclaimed the Jew, looking at the powerful 
 form of his companion, and then at his own diminutive self. 
 "Vight! I dinks not!" 
 
 " Have you a house in the city ? " 
 
 "I hafe not. I just travels about. If de shentlemans 
 vants to bay de beels, I bees his servant at de inn; an' I 
 dells him heep dings. I no lets de beeples scheat him." 
 
 " That would seem to be a very good engagement," said 
 Hugh; "but, look here," he added, as an idea seemed to 
 strike him, ' ' if you go to playing any of your cunning tricks 
 on me, I will break every bone in that little old body of 
 yours. I'll do it, if I have to follow you to the bottom of 
 the sea." 
 
 "De bottoms of de sea!" exclaimed the Jew. "Vould 
 the shentlemans like to go dere ? " 
 
 "I can't say I would prefer it as a pleasure trip; but, 
 mind you, I will break every bone in your body, one by one, 
 if I have to go there after you, if you attempt to play any of 
 your cunning rascality on me. But let us return to the city." 
 
38 SACRIFICE. 
 
 Side by side, Hugh Ashby and the Jew entered the city 
 of Hillah, and again the people stared and wondered. The 
 Jew was known in the city. He had been there often, and 
 had traded with most of the inhabitants. The contrast 
 between the two was so great, in every respect, as to cause 
 remark, even by the children. 
 
 "De shentlemans speaks de language of dese beeples, 
 does he ? " inquired the Jew, as they made their way through 
 the town. 
 
 "Slightly," responded Hugh; "in my travels I have 
 picked up a smattering of many languages." 
 
 " Hafe he spoke to any of dem yet, at de inn ? " 
 
 "I have not, thinking it better for them to think for a 
 while that I do not understand them." 
 
 "Den you keeps dat up, and I bees de interpreter!" 
 
 "By the way," said Hugh, "what shall I call you? 
 What is your name? It would not do very well for me to 
 have a servant and not know his name." 
 
 "Yell, Isaac vill do de beeples here calls me dat. And 
 do shentleman's name?" 
 
 "Is Hugh Ashby." 
 
 A motley group of ragged urchins, women and loafers, 
 here impeded their progress. Looking into the midst of 
 the crowd, Hugh saw that a camel had fallen under the 
 weight of its pack, and that a stout, beastly-looking Arab 
 was pummelling it over the head, to make it rise, while the 
 poor creature was moaning piteously. Hugh pushed his 
 way through the crowd, followed by Isaac. "Tell the fel- 
 low," said he, "to stop beating that poor brute." 
 
 Isaac obeyed in as imposing a voice as it was possible for 
 him to assume. The Arab looked at him in utter astonish- 
 ment; then gathering the club which he had been wielding 
 so unmercifully, in both his hands, he made a desperate 
 pass at the head of the old Jew, but the blow was arrested 
 by another, for Hugh struck the savage squarely between 
 the eyes, and laid him senseless on the ground. At this, 
 two or three of the friends of the fallen man rushed upon 
 
HUGH. 39 
 
 Hugh, but one blow from his powerful fist sent them howl- 
 ing away. Hugh then spoke kindly to the animal, which 
 seemed to know what all the tormoil was about. With his 
 great strong arms he took hold of the pack and the camel 
 making an effort at the same time, arose to its feet. At this, 
 a number of the bystanders cheered the stranger; but the 
 friends of the defeated party looked sullen, and low, threat- 
 ening mutterings were heard from among them. Isaac's eyes 
 sparkled with a delight which seemed to have been for long 
 years a stranger to them, and clasping his hands with an 
 eager, satisfied motion, whispered half aloud, ' ' Eureka ! " 
 
 " Dat vas very goot; but it vas very bad," said he to Hugh, 
 as they were leaving the scene. 
 
 "How do you make that out." 
 
 ' ' It was goot for de shentlemans to show de mercy to de 
 boor animal; it shows von goot heart, but I bees very much 
 'fraid dat it no goot for de shentlemans, and maybe no goot 
 for me; dese beeples never forgets, and we got to keeps von 
 eye open all de dimes. Dey do us von harm if dey get von 
 chance." 
 
 " Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. I never allow 
 myself to be disturbed by future trouble. If a man does as 
 near right as he knows how, I have an abiding faith in the 
 certainty of his coming out all right some way or other. 
 What is your philosophy ? " 
 
 "Veil, I dinks diplomacy is somedimes necessary. If I 
 vas von big strong man, I maybe goes straight along like de 
 shentlemans, bub von veak old man must blay de cunnings." 
 
 "I hardly think it necessary, even in your case. Straight- 
 forwardness always brings its own reward. I think I will 
 make you see that if we stay together long." 
 
 "An' maybees I makes you see de value of von leetle bit 
 deception on some beeples." 
 
 "You think that if I go straight forward, and you are 
 deceptive, you can get the better of me, eh? But remem- 
 ber what I told you." 
 
 " Dere shall be no deception mit de shentlemans. Dat is 
 
40 SACBIPICE. 
 
 for de odder kinds of beeples. De slientlemans go straight 
 ahead mit de knock-down, an' I brings up de rear rait de 
 leetle bit cunnings. It makes von goot partnership bees- 
 ness ! " And Isaac chuckled at what seemed to him a happy 
 conception. 
 
 " Well, we will try it that way awhile." 
 
 "What a queer genius my 'partner' is!" said Hugh to 
 himself after he had reached his room at the inn. "I feel 
 that I am not to get clear of him in a day. But, while he 
 seems to be a cunning old rogue, I do not think there is any 
 harm in him. He is fond of gold, but would commit no 
 crime beyond lying to gain it." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NEBUCHODNEZZER'S PALACE, 
 
 sHE place selected by Isaac for excavation was down 
 the Euphrates, some three miles from Hillah, and 
 about the same distance back from the river. The 
 " heap " was not so large as some others in proximity 
 to it, but was about one hundred and forty feet above 
 the level of the plain, and covered about ten acres, with a 
 perceptible elevation extending down to the river bank. 
 Hugh had no faith in the result of the work; but as the 
 laborers, after the first few days, began to bring out some 
 curiously -wrought alabaster vases, some of which bore 
 inscriptions which he could busy himself in deciphering, 
 he let it continue. Although this was not the mound El 
 Kars, which the natives point out as the grand palace of 
 Nebuchodnezzer, yet the brick taken out had each been 
 stamped: " Grand Palace of Nebuchodnezzer King of 
 Babylon," and some double bricks or slabs, which had been 
 used in heading courses in the walls, bore the further legend: 
 " Son of Nebopolassor, who walked in the worship of Nebo 
 and Merodach his lord." These slabs, being the same as 
 those described by other archaeologists, Hugh concluded 
 that he had found the second palace, or that he was perhaps 
 working on the same ground, although the description did 
 not correspond. In about two weeks they were rewarded by 
 striking the solid brick wall, which, after much difficulty in 
 cutting through, they found admitted them into a spacious 
 room. Hugh was highly gratified at the thought that now 
 he could view with his own eyes at least one room of the 
 grand palace of the great Babylonian monarch. They had 
 tunnelled into the ruin on almost a level with the plain, and 
 the entrance they had now made was some thirty feet below 
 them, showing that in the ages past the country had gradu- 
 
42 SACRIFICE. 
 
 ally filled up. The workmen having made a ladder and 
 placed it in the aperture, Hugh clambered eagerly down it, 
 followed by Isaac. Their curiosity did not seem to be 
 shared by the native laborers, for they remained on the out- 
 side, squatting upon the ground, smoking and chatting to 
 one another. From what our adventurers could see in the 
 dim light which shone in through the opening at which they 
 had entered, it was evident to them that this was the ground 
 floor of the palace; and eager as Hugh was to see more, he 
 was compelled to wait, for lack of necessary torches, etc. 
 So again mounting to the earth's surface, they returned to 
 the city to supply themselves with the necessaries for an 
 extended exploration. 
 
 The next morning's sun found them upon the scene, sup- 
 plied with torches, candles, ropes in fact, everything which 
 could be needed for their purpose. The Arabs were 
 employed in carrying these things down the ladder, notwith- 
 standing an evident unwillingness to enter the ruin. Promi- 
 nent among the articles carried down, was a basket contain- 
 ing eatables, for Hugh had resolved to spend the entire day 
 in this place. He also took a quantity of candles and lamps 
 so as to be able to light up any apartment he might wish to 
 examine. He now discharged his gang of laborers, enjoin- 
 ing them to be near at hand in case their services were 
 needed. He had desired a couple of them to accompany 
 him, but they absolutely refused to go; so Hugh, followed 
 by the Jew, alone entered the grand palace of Nebuchod- 
 nezzer. 
 
 Lighting their lamps, they gazed around. They found 
 they were in a lofty room some fifty feet wide; the length 
 was a matter of speculation, for one end of the ceiling had 
 given way, leaving only about thirty feet clear in that direc- 
 tion. The floor was of polished marble and covered with 
 the dust of centuries. The ceiling, nearly sixty feet high, 
 was supported by a succession of arches, and the walls were 
 covered with a cement harder than marble, an inch or more 
 in thickness, which retained in spots mucli of its whiteness,. 
 
even at this date. No vestige of furniture could be found, or 
 anything else, to denote that this room had once been the 
 abode of living, breathing beings like themselves. As Hugh,, 
 holding high his torch, and flashing it hither and thither, 
 took in more fully the grand proportions of this apartment,- 
 a portion of what was once the most magnificent edifice in 
 the world, a feeling of awe stole upon him that perhaps his 
 was the first human foot, since the suffering of Christ on the 
 Cross, which had dared to invade this domain of silence and 
 decay. On the side of the room opposite to the passage 
 which they had made was a doorway opening into a corridor 
 some seventy-five feet wide. Over this, in bold Chaldaic 
 characters, which Hugh had little diificulty in deciphering, 
 was the following inscription : 
 
 ' ' Grand Palace of Nebuchodnezzer, King of Babylon, which 
 shall stand forever and forever, as an evidence of his greatness." 
 
 He was about to pass into the corridor when Isaac called 
 his attention to another less prominent inscription, and in 
 another language. The first had been cut deep into the 
 wall and the hard cement put on afterwards, showing that 
 it had been placed there when the palace was built; but this 
 legend was in smaller characters, and though it bore the 
 impress of age, it had evidently been cut with some sharp 
 instrument after the cement had been put on the walls. 
 
 " This," said Hugh, " seems to be in the Hebrew language 
 of about the time of your boyhood, Isaac; therefore, I will 
 let you read it." 
 
 "I bees not von great scholars, like Meester Ashby, but I 
 vill help him to reads him." 
 
 Together they ciphered it out, and Hugh wrote in his note- 
 book: 
 
 "In this room dwelleth Daniel, the servant of the living 
 God. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, the God of Israel. Be- 
 sides Thee, there is nothing else. When Thine anger 
 cometh, nations and peoples shall be swept away." 
 
 " Quite a difference in the tone of the two inscriptions," 
 remarked Hugh. "The one depending on the works of 
 
44 SACRIFICE. 
 
 man to make his name remembered of men, the other 
 exalting the Creator of the universe. Oh, how vain are the 
 longings of the human heart for earthly fame ! Hundreds 
 of thousands of men obeyed the nod of Nebuchodnezzer, 
 while Daniel sought only the favor of the living God. 
 Which of the two was truly great? Oh, that all men could 
 read these two inscriptions and choose between them ! " 
 
 Hugh and his companion, finding themselves getting both 
 hungry and thirsty, concluded to turn their explorations in 
 another direction that is, towards the lunch basket. After 
 satisfying the present wants of the inner man, Hugh con- 
 cluded that it would be a wise plan for them to put the rem- 
 nants of their luncheon into their pockets. "For," said he, 
 " this underground work makes a fellow pretty hungry. And 
 I am afraid we will both get thirsty before night, for I see, 
 from appearances of our water bottle, that we have not been 
 very sparing of its contents." 
 
 " Dis dust makes von's throat very dry." 
 
 "Well, let's waste no more time here. Come on, and we 
 will see what these old ruins have so jealously hidden from 
 human eyes for so long whether the most 'golf or the most 
 'curious.' 7 ' 
 
 Binding a bundle of torches each across their shoulders, 
 and filling their remaining pockets with candles, they pro- 
 ceeded on their tour of investigation. 
 
 With flaming torch in hand they now entered what evi- 
 dently had been the grand entrance hall of the palace. It, 
 too, was supported by arches, and plastered with the same 
 marble-like cement as before mentioned, as, indeed, were 
 all the rooms they discovered, and which seemed so entirely 
 impervious to water as to keep the vast, cavernous rooms 
 comparatively dry. Leaving a lamp burning at the door- 
 way, to guide their return, they made their way down this 
 immense corridor. At regular intervals in the walls, on 
 -both sides, were numerous other door-ways; but the rooms 
 to which they communicate^ were so filled up, by the col- 
 lapse of the ceilings, with dirt and debris, as to entirely 
 
NEBUCHODNEZZER'S PALACE. 45 
 
 close up the entrance. Over every door was an inscription 
 relating to the palace and the greatness of the King. 
 Another thing which Hugh remarked was the absence of all 
 timber in this huge structure no wood whatever had been 
 used, unless, perhaps, in the doors, no trace of which, how- 
 ever, now remained. 
 
 Several hundred feet had been traversed without anything 
 of special interest except the inscription, over which they 
 had spent much time, when Hugh, who always walked in 
 advance, came across a colossal statue, which had fallen to 
 the floor. 
 
 "Hallo!" exclaimed he. "I think we must have found 
 old Nebuchodnezzer himself! " 
 
 Upon examination they found that it had fallen from its 
 place, beside an arched doorway, higher and wider than 
 any of the others. Although broken, the fragments were all 
 there the head and features were perfect, and the arms and 
 legs, though in small pieces, were easily matched. It had 
 stood on a pedestal about five feet high, so that a man's 
 shoulder would have been about even with the feet. The 
 statue itself must have been at least thirty feet in height, 
 which, by-the-way, was rather small for one of Nebuchod- 
 nezzer's ideas. On the base of the pedestal they found the 
 following : 
 
 ' ' Nebuchodnezzer, the great king of Babylon, who con- 
 quered the world and built a great city and magnificent 
 palaces, which shall stand forever and forever. Am I not 
 Nebuchodnezzer, and have I not builded Babylon? Then 
 who shall destroy the works of my hand? " 
 
 Although Hugh Ashby was an accomplished linguist and 
 had made a special study of the ancient Chaldean, and, in 
 the two years he had been in Asia, had become quite an 
 archaeologist, yet he found himself greatly assisted in 
 deciphering these inscriptions by the unpretending little old 
 Jew, who seemed to always make the right suggestion at the 
 right time. Hugh asked him how it happened that he 
 possessed so much learning, to which he replied : 
 
46 SACRIFICE. 
 
 ' ' Oh, I travels very much, and learn leetle here and leetle 
 dere. I vas somedimes, too, mit de shentlemens dat hunt 
 for some old dings. I vas mit von Englishmans Me ester 
 Layard, ven he vas vorking on Nineveh." 
 
 "Then you have had experience in these matters. But 
 we have spent enough time in here for one day. I hardly 
 think it healthy to remain here very long. Good Heavens! " 
 Jie exclaimed, on looking at his watch, " 'tis after dark now! 
 Had you any idea that we had been in here so long as that ? " 
 
 "I knows de dimes vas slipping avay." 
 
 " Well, we must get out of here. We will come back to- 
 morrow, with force enough to take this statue out. A genu- 
 ine statue of Nebuchodnezzer will be quite a trophy, I can 
 tell you. I believe, under the terms of our agreement, this 
 is mine; but if we can succeed in getting it out and put to- 
 gether, you shall have no reason to grumble at the part you 
 have taken in this affair. Why, this alone is worth coming 
 to Babylon for!" 
 
 Hugh was in high spirits, and was already debating in his 
 own mind the best method of getting the statue from the 
 ruin to the river's bank, from whence it could be shipped to 
 San Francisco, for he had already determined on presenting 
 it to that city. On returning to "Daniel's room," where the 
 lamp had been left burning, they found to their annoyance 
 that the ladder by which they were to reach the outer world 
 liad been removed, as also the spades and picks. 
 
 " The rascally Arabs have played a practical joke on us," 
 said Hugh, "but as there is plenty of debris here, we can 
 build steps up to the outlet." 
 
 They both commenced working with a will. Hugh with 
 his powerful arms rolling under the orifice great blocks of 
 .stone, at which the poor, little, weak old Jew tugged in 
 vain. Then carrying the loosened brick, they piled them up 
 as high as Hugh could reach when standing on the stones 
 which formed the foundation to his impromptu stairway. 
 Now came the greatest difficulty in their work, for they were 
 obliged to clamber up this uncertain ascent with their load 
 
NEBUCHODNEZZER'S PALACE. 47 
 
 of brick, often losing their footing and falling to the floor. 
 Hugh's watch told him that it was daylight by the time they 
 had gotten high enough to reach the opening, and both were 
 well nigh exhausted. Pulling himself with his hands up to 
 a level with it, Hugh dropped back. 
 
 " Isaac," he said, " hand me up that torch." 
 
 The light was handed him and he made a complete exam- 
 ination, then with torch in hand made his way down the 
 shaking, improvised steps. 
 
 "Isaac," he hoarsely whispered, "the aperture is closed! 
 We are buried ! Buried alive ! " 
 
 "Mine Got! Mine Got!" exclaimed Isaac, in the most 
 piteous tones. "Puried! Puried alive! Mine Got! Mine 
 Got! Mine Got!" 
 
 " They have rolled a huge stone against the opening, that 
 it must have tak^n at least ten men to place there; and, what 
 is worse, they have taken away the drift timbers, and let the 
 sand and debris fall in and close the tunnel. Even were we 
 through this wall and that would take us a month, at least 
 we could not work our way out without timbers to uphold 
 the falling sand." 
 
 " Oh, dem Arab! dem Arab! He got even on you for de 
 knock him down. Oh, oh!" and Isaac, falling upon his 
 knees, beat his breast and seemed like a man half demented. 
 
 To say that Hugh Ashby was not horror-stricken ai> the 
 situation would be claiming for him attributes more than 
 human. The scenes and actions of his life passed in rapid 
 review before his mental vision. He thought of one far, 
 far away, awaiting his return, and pictured her sad face as 
 day after day and year after year passed away, with no tid- 
 ings of one who had promised to be true to her till his 
 latest breath. 
 
 "In this room," he soliloquized, "the great prophet 
 Daniel invoked the aid of the Almighty; from here he 
 walked with a firm step to the den of lions, trusting in the 
 power of the Most High to save him. God is the same 
 yesterday, now and forever, helping those who trust in Him 
 
48 SACRIFICE. 
 
 and walk in His ways. O Daniel!" he exclaimed, drop- 
 ping on his knees, ' ' if thy spirit still hovers around this, 
 place and can hear the voice of one in tribulation, help me, 
 I beseech you, to pray to the God of Israel for deliverance 
 from this awful doom! Incline, O my God, thy ear, and 
 hear; open thy eyes and see our desolation. Should it 
 please thee that now we should die, help us to bear with 
 patience and fortitude all that is before us. Help us, O 
 Jesus, to remember thy sufferings on Calvary, and let not 
 our lips murmur against thy divine will, whatever may befall 
 us; whatever we may suffer, thou, O Lord, hast given us 
 life, and thou, O Lord, shalt take it away blessed be thy 
 holy name forever ! " 
 
 Hugh arose to his feet and approached Isaac, who was yet 
 bent over, with his face touching the floor and moaning 
 most piteously. 
 
 " Isaac," he said, peremptorily; "get up, man! This is a 
 time for cool, collected action, and. not for weak, womanish 
 tears. We must work, now work with a will work as 
 never before men worked. And, Isaac, do you ever pray 
 to the God of your fathers ? My mother taught me, when 
 first my infant tongue could lisp, to call confidently on the 
 help of God in every emergency; then to do what seemed 
 right to me after, prayer, and leave the ,rest to Him wh o 
 holds the earth in the hollow of His hand, and notes even 
 the fall of the sparrow." 
 
 And the Jew, rising to his feet, murmured, "At last!" 
 
CHAPTER VII. ^ ! 
 
 MENE, THECAL, PHAKES. 
 
 >OW," said Hugh, "what is our first step? It is 
 quite evident there is no escape in this direction. 
 We each have a hatchet, and we have also some 
 cord which may be of value. Our lamps are use- 
 less, because we cannot carry them with us. We 
 have, however, candles and torches enough to last us some 
 days; these are light and we can carry them. I think there 
 is no use in coming back here. We have examined this part 
 of the ruin pretty thoroughly; nevertheless, we will leave 
 our largest lamp burning in the doorway of this room, so 
 that we can identify it; for, if we should give up all hope, I 
 would like to drag myself back here to die. It would be 
 some consolation to die in the room in which Daniel prayed . 
 We have still a little of our lunch left, perhaps enough for 
 one meal for one man, and this we must eke out as best we 
 may. But all our water is gone, Isaac. If we are to die here, 
 it is to be from thirst, and that is said to be a horrible 
 death. Here, Isaac, you take this small bundle of torches 
 they are light and I will carry the rest. Let us start on 
 with a candle, and use the torches only for examinations. 
 We must be saving of our light; that is our sole dependence. 
 Let us both take some matches, and be sure you keep them 
 in a safe place. Now we are ready for our tour of inspec- 
 tion." 
 
 " Haf Meester Ashby von plan von idea? " 
 " I can't say that I have any very definite plan; but I have 
 more, I have faith. We know that the extreme top of this 
 mound is about one hundred and seventy feet above this 
 floor. It may be that we can find where some wall has fallen 
 down, and in which we can climb to the arch, at least. Per- 
 haps a kind Providence may smile on us, and show us some 
 
50 SACBIFICE. 
 
 place caved in almost to the top. I have an idea, too, Isaac, 
 that these ruins must have some outlet. When we first 
 entered here yesterday the air was bad; this morning it was 
 tolerable, and it has got no worse as we have made our way 
 farther in. There was air in here before we let it in. If the 
 standing portion of these ruins is not very extensive we have 
 a chance to find the outlet." 
 
 " If dere bees von," doubtingly said Isaac. 
 
 " Have you any ideas to suggest ?" 
 
 "I vill follow de shentlemans, an' do all de dings vat he 
 dells me." 
 
 " I propose to walk around and through these ruins, till 
 we find some avenue of escape, or until we give up all hope. 
 By action, we will avoid the pain of too much thought about 
 the situation. In almost every phase v of life there is pleas- 
 ure in action. Every rightly-constructed man is happier 
 when he is at work. Nature abhors a drone as much as she 
 does a vacuum. We may ask God to help us, and we must 
 have faith in His doing so; but we must cooperate with Him 
 by our own exertions. He puts us here to work, and he is 
 displeased when we fail to perform our mission." 
 
 " I does not sees much room for hope, Meester Ashby," 
 despondingly said Isaac. 
 
 "As long as there is life there is hope; and, anyhow, we 
 can see what there is here. Why should we begin to tor- 
 ture ourselves as soon as we conclude that the chances are 
 against us ? We all know that we have got one time to die, 
 and that it is uncertain at what moment that event may hap- 
 pen. Why, therefore, should we care whether death comes to 
 us here in this darksome place, or out in God's glorious sun- 
 shine?" 
 
 " But dis awful blace, Meester Ashby; dis awful blace! " 
 exclaimed Isaac, in heart-rending accents. 
 
 "Come, be a man! I can't feel that we are doomed to 
 die in this horrible place. Follow me." 
 
 Accoutred, as before explained, the two men started out on 
 a hunt for a far different treasure than that which they 
 
MENE, THECAL, PHAKES. 51 
 
 sought when they first entered the ruin. This time it was 
 the treasure of life. 
 
 " We will proceed down this corridor," said Hugh, " and 
 see where it ends." 
 
 The dust which had accumulated upon the marble floors 
 prevented their feet from making any noise. As they moved 
 silently along, their single candle serving but to make the 
 darkness more visible, Hugh's imagination pictured the 
 hundreds and thousands of men who had trodden that way 
 thousands of years agone, till their phantom forms seemed 
 flitting around him, to precede and follow him, in one vast 
 procession till he felt as though he and his companions were 
 in the midst of a doleful march of the dead. Hugh tried to 
 feel hopeful tried to bring to bear all his Christian resig- 
 nation; but the intensely gloomy surroundings were almost 
 too much for even his philosophy. He could scarcely blame 
 poor old Isaac for bemoaning their fate so sadly. They 
 passed the statue of Nebuchodnezzar, and a few feet further 
 on, just on the other side of the grand doorway, they saw 
 there was a similar one . Hugh could see that it was broken 
 more than the first, but he did not care to stop and examine 
 it; besides, there would have been little satisfaction in trying 
 to inspect anything with one little candle, and he felt too 
 strongly the necessity of economy to light more. Some three 
 hundred feet beyond the statues they came to where the 
 arches of the corridor had fallen, and a pile of debris im- 
 peded their further progress. Hugh, however, found that 
 he could get around it to the left, and pushing through a 
 narrow way, they found themselves in another corridor of 
 smaller dimensions, which seemed to intersect the first. The 
 grand main corridor had apparently ended here . 
 
 "We must keep an account of all the turns we make, Isaac, 
 so that we may know when we get back to the same places, 
 and not waste our time in giving them a second examination." 
 With difficulty making their way over portions of the fallen 
 building, they came to where the arch had given way 
 entirely. 
 
52 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " We will climb to the top of this," said Hugh, "and see 
 what we shall find." 
 
 So up the mass of fallen masonry they went. Poor old 
 
 Isaac, groaning and panting, seemed with great difficulty to 
 
 follow the strong young man. Hugh seeing this, said kindly: 
 
 " You had better remain down here, Isaac, while I climb 
 
 to the top and prospect." 
 
 ' ' Vat ! Stay down here all alone in de dark ? I goes up ! " 
 A point was reached which Hugh could see was some- 
 what above the arches of the corridor. Here he lighted a 
 couple of torches, that he might find any possible outlet, but 
 the search was fruitless, and reluctantly they retraced their 
 steps. Returning, they entered each doorway, but found 
 that all the rooms in that part of the building had fallen in. 
 "Oh, mine old legs!" wailed Isaac, as they trudged 
 along. "And mine tongue he swell clear out mine mouth. 
 I vould give everydings vat I got for von cup vater." Hugh 
 had also suffered intensely from thirst, but had said nothing 
 of his own discomfort, striving all the time to encourage and 
 help along his poor old companion. 
 
 "Don't you know, Isaac," stopping to look at his watch, 
 "that we have been in this place thirty-six hours, and this 
 close, oppressive atmosphere makes me feel so drowsy that 
 I can scarcely resist the inclination to sleep. That I do not 
 wish to do, for every moment lost now makes our chance of 
 escape that much more improbable." 
 
 They examined the opposite wing of the corridor, but with 
 no better success. Isaac was wailing piteously for water, 
 and Hugh feared that his strength would soon give com- 
 pletely out. When they were near the crossing of the grand 
 corridor, on their return, Hugh fancied he heard a slight 
 sound, and telling Isaac to keep silent, he almost held his 
 breath to listen. It was no fancy there it was again drip, 
 drip, drip! 
 
 "Water!" he exclaimed. "Precious water! My God, I 
 thank thee ! Isaac, man, there is certainly the dripping of 
 water!" 
 
MENE, THECAL, PHABES. 53 
 
 " Vater ! Ob, vere ish vater ? " 
 
 ''Here," said Hugh, lighting a torch, and throwing its 
 rays full upon the wall before them, where through a crack 
 in the hard plastering the water oozed out, trickling down 
 the wall, until it came to an ornamental projection, from 
 which it dropped to the floor, then disappeared . 
 
 " Boor chance for vater," wailed Isaac. 
 
 " It is the best we have," answered Hugh, " and we ought 
 to be exceedingly thankful for that. But what shall we do ? 
 "We have no cup that was left in * Daniel's room.' Here, 
 Isaac, hold your tongue under the drip and catch it as it 
 falls." 
 
 Isaac eagerly obeyed, and caught the precious drops upon 
 his parched and swollen tongue. 
 
 " Oh, I could sit here forever! " he exclaimed, after some 
 five minutes. "It vould be von Paradise. But de shentle- 
 mans dries, him vonce." 
 
 " Go on," said Hugh, " try ifc again, and don't waste any 
 time in gabbing." 
 
 Isaac again held his tongue under the drip, and at the end 
 of another five minutes he said : 
 
 " Dat ish better. I feel goot now. De shentlemans dries 
 him now." 
 
 Hugh, standing under the projection, extended his aching 
 tongue, and as the welcome fluid fell upon it, drop by drop, 
 he felt, like Isaac, that he could have stood there forever. 
 Never before had he tasted anything so grateful to his swollen 
 palate. ' ' Water, " he thought ; ' ' is it water ? say, rather, nec- 
 tar for the gods!" As Isaac watched him catching the 
 priceless drops upon his tongue, it seemed to suddenly 
 strike him how generous it was for the big, strong young man 
 to give the poor, weak, old one the first opportunity to slack 
 the grievous thirst which tormented both alike. 
 
 " Ve has been," he said, giving vent to his thoughts, 
 * ' most as forty-eight hours thirsting for vater, and now de 
 big, strong, young shentlemans, he lets the boor old Jew, 
 dat most beeples kicks about, hafe de first drinks. Oh, it 
 
54 SACRIFICE. 
 
 vas so goot so goot in him ! I feels like I could die for de 
 shentlemans." 
 
 Paying no attention to the words of Isaac, Hugh now 
 took from his pocket a small, dry crust of bread, which was 
 all that remained of their luncheon. Dividing it impartially, 
 he gave one piece to the old Jew, who devoured it raven- 
 ously. Who can describe the sensations of a man when eat- 
 ing his last morsel of food and in such a place ! After fin- 
 ishing their meagre meal and refreshing themselves anew 
 under the drip, Hugh took his watch out, and, breaking the 
 case off, placed it where the water could fall into it, saying : 
 
 " We had as well be hunting around while this is filling; 
 it's a small cup, but better than none. Come, time is pre- 
 cious; we will examine this room near by." 
 
 They found the room nearly all caved in, but Hugh com- 
 menced to climb the debris. From appearances, he thought 
 he could mount higher here than in any other place he had 
 discovered. When near the top, Isaac cried out to Hugh 
 to stop. 
 
 " What's the matter?" asked Hugh. 
 
 " Matter? Did not de shentlemans hear de hiss of de 
 serpent ? " 
 
 "Did you hear one, Isaac?" and Hugh listened in breath- 
 less silence. Presently, within a few feet of him, he recog- 
 nized the hiss of the cobra. 
 
 "That is the most welcome sound I ever heard!" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "Velcome!" 
 
 "Yes, welcome. These reptiles get out of here some- 
 times, and, even if we can't find where they came in, still it 
 proves my theory, that there are openings in this ruin 
 unknown to the outside world. Let us, therefore, with 
 courage, persevere in our search for one. So you see even 
 the hiss of the most poisonous reptile on earth may some- 
 times be welcome." 
 
 Isaac would not move a step further in that direction, but 
 Hugh continued his search for an outlet amidst the hissing 
 
MENE, THECAL, PHARES. 55 
 
 of the reptiles on all sides. They seemed struck with aston- 
 ishment that any living creature besides themselves should 
 dare to enter their den, and hurriedly got out of the way. 
 ' " Oh, Meester Ashby!" exclaimed Isaac; " he bite you, 
 and you die in two hour. Dere is no dings what saves you. 
 No man ever be cured of de bite of de cobra. Tousands 
 an' tousands die every year in dis country from de bite. 
 You no know de cobra." 
 
 ' ' I would rather die in two hours than after two days' tor- 
 ture," returned Hugh; " and neither of us can stand it much 
 longer than that. But we will go down and have another 
 1 drink,' and then we will sleep. I feel that we can afford to 
 sleep now, for I am more firmly convinced than 'ever that 
 there is an outlet to this place, and that the good God will 
 not fail to direct us to it." 
 
 " You better sleep up dere, 'mong dem cobra," said Isaac. 
 
 "I am not so fond of the cobra, as all that," replied 
 Hugh; "but if I could see a hole large enough out of this 
 place I would go through it, if all the cobra in Asia guarded 
 it. Don't you know that this thing of running around here 
 in the dark is getting monotonous ? " 
 
 " It been dat, great vhile mit me." 
 
 They went back to their spring, and Hugh, taking the 
 watch-case full of water, handed it to Isaac. 
 
 "Drinks him yourselfs, Meester Ashby. De ole Jew will 
 nothafe it said that he hafe not von generous feeling; dat he 
 all for himselfs. I vould not touch him first, Meester Ashby, 
 if I vould die." 
 
 Hugh drank the precious liquid, and sat and waited for 
 the tiny cup to fill again. Then he said: 
 
 " Let us now find a dry place and sleep." 
 
 "Let us go back to de statue, an' maybe we find von good 
 blace." 
 
 And back they went, till they had reached the great arched 
 doorway, on each side of which had stood the statue of the 
 great Babylonian king, who had built tliis palace. To 
 Hugh's surprise, he found that the door had once been 
 
56 SACRIFICE. 
 
 walled up, but that the brick had fallen out, leaving 
 a clear entrance into the room beyond. Scrutinizing 
 the fallen brick more particularly, he saw they had been 
 cast in a different mould from all the others used in the con- 
 struction of the palace, and that they were void of inscrip- 
 tions. Wondering what this meant, and seeing over the 
 arch of the door-way an inscription, he climbed upon one 
 of the pedestals, and lighting another torch, read : ' 
 
 "At the request of Daniel, I, Darius, on the death of Bel- 
 shazzar, have caused this room to be sealed up, and it shall 
 so remain forever." 
 
 "It is said that the laws and decrees of the Medes and 
 Persians were unalterable, but old Father Time has gotten 
 the best of this decree. "At the request of Daniel " Hugh 
 paused a moment in thought, and then continued: "The 
 Prophet evidently wished this room closed, that no human 
 eye might again behold its interior; and he had a purpose in 
 so doing. Even Alexander, who respected nothing, seems 
 not to have interfered with this decree. Shall we, more 
 daring, invade its sanctity ? " 
 
 " De vail ish down, an' ish not dat von invitation ? If Got 
 no vant any von to see it, vhy, He keep de vail up." 
 
 "Perhaps it is that way. At any rate, we will so interpret 
 it; this may be the very room through which we are to find 
 deliverance." 
 
 Clambering over the fallen brick-work, the two entered. 
 Although the ceiling had fallen in several parts of the room, 
 yet they could see that it was of immense size, perhaps some 
 five hundred feet square. In spite of his exhausted condition, 
 Hugh began to feel interested, and to look around more 
 particularly. 
 
 "Hallo!" he exclaimed, "what have we here?" as he 
 stumbled over something emitting a metallic ring. 
 
 Lifting his torch on high, he beheld glistening in its light 
 long rows of gold and silver vessels lying upon the floor with 
 almost the same regularity as though placed upon tables. 
 A feast had evidently been prepared and suddenly inter- 
 
MENE, THECAL, PHARES. 57 
 
 rupted. It would seem that the guests had fled, terror- 
 stricken,! at the occurrence of some untimely catastrophe, 
 leaving everything undisturbed, and time rotting away the 
 wooden tables had deposited their contents upon the floor. 
 For hundreds of feet Hugh traced these relics of past mag- 
 nificence, and his wonder and admiration grew. There were 
 immense candelabras, with a hundred branches, showing how 
 this vast hall had been illuminated. There were pitchers, 
 urns, plates, cups and 4 many other curiously-wrought vessels, 
 all of gold, silver or porcelain ware. For a time he forgot 
 his situation in the contemplation of the scene before him. 
 " This, "he soliloquized, "it is evident, was the grand ban- 
 queting hall of Nebuchodnezzer, and this Belshazzar's Feast. 
 Among these relics of that profane revel are the sacred 
 vessels stolen from the temple of the Most High, and applied 
 to this sacrilegious use. It was upon these walls the myster- 
 ious Hand appeared, writing the doom of Babylon . Now I 
 understand the sealing of this room." 
 
 "Dis vould be von nice collection if we could have a few 
 days upon de earth to enjoy it," broke in the voice of the Jew, 
 upon his reverie. 
 
 Man's time is but short at best, Isaac, said Hugh. "If 
 you had all this gold and could live out your allotted time, 
 how much better off would you be at the end? You 
 would have but had your victuals and clothes; and that much 
 you would have had anyhow." 
 
 " Dat ish so; but all mankind likes de golt." 
 
 "And yet, would you not freely give all this gold to be 
 placed at this moment on the outside of this mound, even 
 though it were at the mouth of the lion's den ?" 
 
 " Dere ish lots golt here." 
 
 "Then do you propose, staying here with it?" 
 
 " I follows de shentlemans." 
 
 "One thing more I should like to see, presumptuous 
 though the wish might seem : that is, the writing which the 
 Hand of Jehovah traced upon the walls of this apartment. 
 Whether I live or whether I die that sight would more 
 
58 SACRIFICE. 
 
 than compensate for the sufferings I have endured in this, 
 fearful place." 
 
 Scarcely had Hugh's lips given utterance to his thought, 
 when Isaac suddenly dropped upon the floor in a prostrate 
 condition, beating his breast and crying out : " My Lord and 
 my God ! " Startled at this unexpected motion, Hugh hastily 
 raised his head and beheld, what made him, too, fall in 
 humble reverence, as though in the presence of the Eternal 
 One. No torches were needed to illumine the scene, for 
 upon the wall before them, there gleamed out in charac- 
 ters of living light the dread sentence of Belshazzar and 
 Babylon : ^ 
 
 "MENE, THECAL, PHARES." 
 
 Now, indeed, has faith given way to knowledge. Now, 
 indeed, has the Most High manifested himself in reply to a 
 presumptuous mortal's wish. Was it to show him the full 
 measure of his unworthiness? was he, too, weighed in the 
 balance and found wanting? Terrible questionings now 
 filled his shrinking heart. Deep and fervent were his sup- 
 plications to be guided aright. Long he remained in this 
 prostrate position, not daring to rise in that awful Presence, 
 until at last tired nature succumbed to the long, deep 
 slumber of exhaustion. 
 
, CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DREAM. 
 
 >HEN Hugh awakened, he found himself in total 
 darkness, and it took him some time to collect his- 
 scattered thoughts. Raising himself in a sitting 
 posture, he tried to peer through the gloom. He 
 called to Isaac, but no answer came. Then he be- 
 gan to question his senses. Had he been in a horrible- 
 nightmare and dreamed ? If so, where was he now ? Was 
 he jet sleeping and dreaming ? He called again to Isaac, 
 this time a little louder, but the echoes of his own voice 
 through the dread stillness was the only sound that returned 
 to him. Taking a candle and a match from his pocket he 
 struck a light, but it seemed only to add to the loneliness of 
 the scene. He looked for the writing on the wall and it had 
 disappeared. Had it, too, been a portion of a disturbed 
 dream? He looked at his watch, but it had stopped. He 
 remembered winding it only a short time before they had 
 entered this room it had run down . Then he had slept for 
 more than thirty hours. How much more ? He did not feel 
 the pangs of hunger or of thirst so sharply as before he went 
 to sleep, only weaker. But where was Isaac ? He would 
 not get up and try to find his way out alone. He was too^ 
 cowardly for that. Then Hugh began to reflect as to what 
 he should do himself. Should he leave that room without 
 first finding Isaac ? If they got separated in that Egyptian 
 darkness, they might never meet again. He could not leave- 
 the poor old Jew. Again he called at the top of his voice, 
 and again no sound was heard save the mocking echoes,, 
 which, reverberating through the great ruin, seemed like the 
 awakened voices of Belshazzar's departed hosts. Isaac had 
 left him crawled off in some corner, perhaps to die. After 
 
 I 
 
SACRIFICE. 
 
 searching every nook and cranny, and convincing himself 
 that no Isaac was there, he determined to seek him in the 
 other parts of the ruin. But, could he find the door through 
 which they had entered ? Passing closely to the walls with 
 his feeble light, he examined each exit as he came to it. At 
 last, certain that he had found the right one for here were 
 the two broken statues of Nebucho'dnezzer he passed 
 through it into the corridor and turned to the right, in order 
 to go to the "spring." Perhaps he would find Isaac there. 
 He looked back towards "Daniel's room," but the light had 
 burned out. Once more he called aloud, and again the 
 numberless echoes answered him. For the first time since 
 he had entered these ruins he was at a loss what to do. 
 " Should I go on and find my way out alone," he argued, 
 * ' I would always feel guilty of the greatest crime that of 
 deserting a companion in time of danger." He continued 
 his way to the "spring," but on reaching that spot, no one 
 was to be found. Yet here was a welcome sign; for the 
 watch-case was gone, and under the drip stood one of the 
 golden cups from Belshazzar's banqueting room. It was 
 only half full of water, showing by this that Isaac had 
 been there only a short time before. He called loudly 
 again, and this time with the returning echoes came the 
 faint voice of the old Jew in the distance. Hugh followed 
 the sound of his voice, hallooing in return, that Isaac might 
 be guided aright, and soon the two small lights met. 
 
 ' ' Were you trying to run off and leave me, old man ? " 
 asked Hugh. 
 
 "I vas not; I vound von goot dings.". 
 
 ' ' Good thing, eh ? What was it ? 
 
 " I dells you, I tought de shentlemans vas never going to 
 vake up. I gets very dry an' I cooms down here to get von 
 drinks. Yen I here I schmell von hyena. I gets awful 
 scared. You know dere vas always von superstition among 
 de Jews, dat if von hyena meets von man in de dark, he can 
 scharm him, so he follow dat hyena anyvares makes him 
 follow till he come to his den, if he vants him dere an' den 
 
\ THE DREAM. 61 
 
 he eat him. I no likes to be eat by von hyena, derefore I 
 blows out mine light an' runs, I dinks, toward de room vere 
 you vas, but I find I go de odder vay. I don't know vere I go, 
 if de shentlemans no follow. Yen I hears your voice I strike 
 mine light again." 
 
 1 1 And there was a hyena in here, was there ? Then we 
 will find his hole. But you are out of breath. Sit down 
 here and rest. Blow out your candle; we must be saving 
 of light, you know." 
 
 The two men sat down on a heap of rubbish, in the total 
 darkness, and talked together. The presence of a hyena in 
 the ruin gave both a hope, which amounted to almost a cer- 
 tainty of escape. 
 
 ' ' How circumstances alter cases !" remarked Hugh. "If 
 any one had said to me a week ago, in a prophetic way, that 
 I would seek the cobra as a friend, and walk with delight in 
 his den, and that I would welcome the hyena as a heaven- 
 sent messenger, I should have thought such things alike im- 
 probable and impossible. I tell you, Isaac, the ways of God 
 are mysterious and altogether past finding out. I believe 
 that everything happens for the best. Sometimes it is bet- 
 ter for one to suffer untold miseries in the flesh. It is a 
 purifying process, as by fire, and fits us for the more spirit- 
 ual enjoyments of the Great Hereafter. But have you any 
 idea how long we slept ? I know I slept more than thirty 
 hours, for I wound my watch shortly before we went in that 
 room." 
 
 "I know it vas von long time, but I haf no vatch, so I 
 cannot tells." 
 
 Hugh sat in silence for a few moments, and then again 
 spoke : 
 
 1 'And, Isaac, I had such a dream. First, I dreamed that 
 you and I saw in letters of living fire the writing upon the 
 wall. So vivid was this portion of my dream that I thought 
 myself awake, but now I know I was sleeping; for, on open- 
 ing my eyes, I saw nothing but pitchy darkness." 
 
432 SACEIFICE. 
 
 "And you tought you dreamed, Meester Ashby?" said 
 Isaac. 
 
 "Yes, and I thought, too, that as I slept, the Prophet 
 Daniel came to me. Touching me, he said, ' Arise, young 
 man, and come with me.' Arising to my feet, I was no 
 longer hungry, thirsty and tired, but felt as though a new 
 life had been instilled into my veins. I placed my hand in 
 his, extended to grasp it, and we began, almost insensibly, 
 to mount heavenward. The top of this mound seemed to 
 open of its own accord, and we passed out in the fresh, cool 
 night air. Upwards and onwards we went, until at last we 
 stood within the jeweled walls of -^he heavenly Jerusalem, 
 and in the very presence of the Son of God. I saw all the 
 angels and archangels that ministered unto Him. I saw the 
 saints and prophets of old in lowly adoration before the Holy 
 of Holies. Oh, the brilliancy, the beauty of this celestial 
 scene was more than the tongue of man could describe. 
 And, Isaac, it seemed, the glorious hosts joyously saluted 
 me, and Jesus, the Saviour of mankind, smiled upon me, 
 saying, ' Well done, my son ! ' and placed upon my head a 
 dazzling crown in which one jewel sparkled pre-eminent. 
 Then a soft luminous cloud seemed to rise and shut this 
 beautiful vision from my sight. And Daniel said to me : 
 
 1 ' ' Oh, child of earth, dost think this worth working for ? 
 What suffering wouldst thou endure to gain it ? ' 
 
 " 'All, all,' I replied, ' that it is possible for me to suffer 
 in the flesh.' 
 
 " 'And no more?' 
 
 " ' Yes; I would bear for ages, VI returned, 'the torments 
 of the damned, to obtain that glorious reception in heaven.' 
 
 " 'Thou speakest wisely and well,' said the holy prophet; 
 * but forget not, my son, that crooked is the road and narrow 
 the gate that leads to this beatitude, and but few have the 
 courage to walk therein.' 
 
 " 'What shall I do to obtain this ? ' I queried. 
 
 " * Act bravely and well,' he replied, 'in whatever part 
 may seem to be assigned thee. Bear ye the burdens of the 
 
THE DREAM. 63 
 
 weak, that ye may fulfil the law of Christ; and remember,' 
 he continued, in stern, solemn tones which chilled me 
 through and through, ' never question God's justice.' 
 
 11 At this I awoke. It was a queer, strange dream, was it 
 not, Isaac ? But I suppose one in the state of body and 
 mind I was in would be likely to dream almost anything." 
 
 " I cannot interpret de dream," responded the Jew; "but 
 perhaps he vorks himself out, and perhaps de shentlemans 
 forget him ven he gets out dis place, if he ever do." 
 
 "Isaac, I will never forget it. Let come what will, those 
 words will ever sound in my ear. Never will I question the 
 justice of God. I will always do what seems to be required 
 of me, should it entail a suffering of ages. Could you 
 imagine, Isaac, any punishment which could, in any degree, 
 compare with the torments of Hell ?" 
 
 "De shentlemans ask me dat, eh? Yell, I dells you. I 
 travels 'round very much. I see all kinds beeples. I follow 
 de beesness vere dey lets me see de inside of dere lives. 
 Nobody care if de old Jew see dere faults; he nobody. Yell, 
 I vould not likes to have to travels around acting von lie till 
 I could find von persons entirely true to hisselfs, true to his 
 fellow-mans, and true to his Got, much less two togedder." 
 
 ' ' How long do you think you would have to travel around, 
 Isaac, before you could settle down on one ? " said Hugh. 
 
 "Oh, I don't knows dat. I ish been living long dimes. 
 You dinks me about sixty; I ish older dan dat. I ish been 
 in beesness von long dimes, and I no finds him yet." 
 
 ' ' Why, Isaac, you have* certainly found one ? You have 
 found yourself ? " 
 
 " Mineselfs ? O mine Got, dat ish too bad. I bees trav- 
 eling 'round all de dimes, trading mit de beeples, or some 
 odder dings, and I hafs to dells von hundred lie every day. 
 I dells you, Meester Ashby, mine whole life bees von lie ! 
 Me goot! O mine Got! " and the little Jew buried his face 
 in his hands as though in the depths of despair. 
 
 " Come, cheer up, Isaac ! An honest confession is cer- 
 
64 SACRIFICE. 
 
 tainly good for the soul, and if I were in your place I would 
 here make a vow to quit lying f orevei . " 
 
 " How ish de leopard to schange his spots ? Yy don't you 
 says to me, ' Isaac, be von brave mans ? Isaac, go fight de 
 cobra! Isaac, don't be so foolish as to beliefs de hyena 
 scharms you, an' makes you follows him ! ' It ish von dings 
 to say do, an' anodder dings to do ! " 
 
 ' ' Then you would not like to live that life always ? " 
 
 ''Mine Got, no!" 
 
 1 ' And still you are afraid to die ? " 
 
 < ' Afraid to die ? O mine Got ! To die ? And den vhat ? 
 It ish von awful dings for von bad mans to die." 
 
 " Hush!" whispered Hugh; " don't you smell that animal 
 again ? " And the click of a small derringer in his hand was 
 all the sound that was heard for some minutes. The hyena 
 passed on the other side of the corridor without appearing 
 to know they were there. It was perfectly noiseless, but 
 that horrible odor could not be mistaken. 
 
 " Let us follow as silently as possible in the dark," said 
 Hugh. 
 
 And they started on, following the disgusting scent which 
 the animal left behind him. It took them around the fallen 
 arches at the crossing of the corridors, and then they had 
 to climb climb in that total darkness the piles of fallen 
 debris. Up they went, until there seemed to them to be no 
 ending to the ascent, when suddenly it closed in, until their 
 heads struck the roof. Their way seemed completely 
 blocked. Hugh was puzzled. The hyena had evidently 
 gone this way. "I can tell," thought he, " where that crea- 
 ture's body has touched the rocks, I am sure, should he have 
 gone through any small opening." Feeling all around, his 
 anxious search was soon rewarded. A small aperture was 
 before him, and, sure enough, on the bricks he could trace 
 the horrible smell as plainly as ever hound scented a track. 
 He put his arm through the crevice. It was too small for a 
 man of his size to squeeze through. With his hatchet and 
 his hands he worked at it until it was enlarged sufficiently 
 
THE DREAM. 65 
 
 for him to enter, which he did, crawling on his hands and 
 knees, followed by Isaac. Their progress was very slow, for 
 every few feet they would have to stop and remove, more 
 brick, in order to enlarge the passage. The stench from the 
 animal was not so strong as Hugh had expected to find in so 
 narrow a place, and from this fact he concluded that they 
 were not in the habit of visiting the ruins very often. After 
 crawling along for about a hundred feet, which seemed to 
 them as many thousand, the passage commenced growing 
 larger, and soon they found they were again in an open 
 space. 
 
 " Thank the Lord for that much!" exclaimed Hugh. 
 
 "But ve ish not out yet," murmured Isaac. 
 
 "We might as well have a light now," said Hugh, " as our 
 hyena has got too much the start of us to admit of our fol- 
 lowing him again by the scent." 
 
 Lighting their candles anew, they scrambled down an 
 incline until they reached once more the floor of the corri- 
 dor. This they examined from side to side, and concluded 
 that it was a continuation of the one they had first 
 entered. With noiseless steps they glided along. There 
 were doorways leading into immense rooms, but these they 
 cared not now to examine. The only thing then of value 
 to them was the open, pure air of heaven. In a few hundred 
 feet the grand corridor came to an end, but a much lower 
 and narrower archway set in. This they followed -for what 
 seemed at least a half a mile, when it, too, came to an abrupt 
 termination. 
 
 "I think the ground over our heads," said Hugh, " can- 
 not be very high ;" and, searching, they found a hole in the 
 wall which seemed to have an upward inclination. Hugh 
 put his head into this to investigate, and drawing back, he 
 exclaimed, "Isaac, I can feel a current of air; but, ugh! such 
 a stench ! We will certainly have to go out through a den of 
 hyenas, with its accumulated putrefaction of ages." 
 
 "But vill de hyenas let us pass?" anxiously suggested 
 Isaac. 
 
66 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "Pass, man! We have got to pass! The hyenas will get 
 out of our way. While they are capable of doing more 
 harm than almost any other animal, yet they are the most 
 cowardly of the carniverous species." 
 
 "It is von dings to meets him out in de open plain an' 
 anodder to meet him in his den," replied the old Jew. 
 
 " Hold! Let me see that my derringers are in good order. 
 I have but two shots; but we each have a hatchet, which is 
 no mean weapon in a close combat. If they have young, 
 the females will fight till the last. But, here we go! This 
 is one last grand effort for life, Isaac, and in such an effort 
 cowardice itself must turn to courage." 
 
 So saying, he began to creep through the aperture. Soon 
 he heard the growling and snarling of the hyenas, and the 
 stench was becoming intolerable. When within a few feet 
 of the den, Hugh paused, and took one of his derringers in 
 his hand. From having been so long immured in the ruin 
 his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, and lie 
 could now discern the outlines of the different animals. 
 Just then one of them, either hearing or smelling him, put 
 its head into the hole, within a foot of his outstretched hand. 
 He gave this one the contents of the derringer, and it fell 
 back dead among the howling pack. Now the snarling and 
 uproar generally became terrific. As brave a heart as 
 Hugh's, even, might well have faltered at those horrible 
 sounds; but now it was, dare all or die! Taking the other 
 derringer in his hand, he pushed his way into the opening . 
 He found he could stand almost upright. A large female, 
 which had young in the den, made a rush at him, but with 
 his pistol he sent her writhing in the agonies of death, to 
 join her companion. Then seizing his hatchet with both 
 hands he commenced striking right and left. 
 
 ' ' Come on, Isaac ! " he exclaimed, ' ' stand just behind me ! " 
 
 But to his astonishment the little cowardly old Jew stood 
 beside him, and more than one of those fearful animals felt 
 the effects of his well-directed blows. Thus they fought 
 until the last of the hyenas was either killed, disabled, or so 
 
THE DREAM. 67 
 
 cowed as to crouch back in fear of the strange invaders. 
 Gradually they had worked their way to the mouth of the 
 den, Hugh having sometimes to go on his hands and knees 
 on account of the smallness of the place. Here Isaac had 
 decidedly the advantage in his low stature. But not yet 
 could they congratulate themselves, for now the passage be- 
 came so small for several feet that they would have to lay 
 down and work themselves through, like snakes crawling 
 through a hole. But through this hole came a glimpse of 
 daylight. Here Hugh, panting for fresh air, said to Isaac: 
 " Go on, quickly and I will follow! " 
 
 "You has gone ahead all de dimes; go ahead, now!" 
 exclaimed the old Jew. 
 
 There was no time for argument, so Hugh crawled on, 
 working and panting, until at last he emerged into the 
 blessed sunlight. At first he could see no more than 
 one born blind, for the broad, glaring light was so pain- 
 ful to his eyes that he was obliged to cover them with his 
 hand to protect them from its full force. For some moments 
 he stood inhaling, with deep enjoyment, the fresh, pure air 
 of heaven. Hearing no sound beside his own deep, full 
 breathing, he hastily called: " Isaac, are you here?" 
 
 No answer came. 
 
 " My God! " he cried, " has poor little Isaac given out at 
 the last moment ? I must go back and see." 
 
 With this he started to re-enter the den, reeking witli its 
 sickening effluvium, when a hand was laid upon his shoulder, 
 and the voice of Isaac spoke in his ear: 
 
 "Young man, you should not do dat dings." 
 
 "Ah, are you here? Thank God, you are safe! And, 
 Isaac, before we leave this place, while yet the snarling and 
 howling of the wounded hyenas j come to our ears, let you 
 and me, of different creeds, bow down together and thank 
 the same God the God of Abraham and of Daniel for this 
 deliverance." 
 
CHAPTER IX, 
 
 BEFORE THE CADI. 
 
 more, side by side, Hugh Ashby and the dimin- 
 utive old Jew entered the city of Hillah, and the peo- 
 ple gazed at them in surprise and consternation. No 
 longer in the flush of a vigorous health, but ema- 
 ciated, weak, and staggering, Hugh looked as one 
 arisen from the dead. Accompanied by Isaac, who seemed 
 scarce able to drag himself feebly along, he made his way 
 as rapidly as possible to the inn, where he had sojourned 
 before his incarceration in what had almost proven to be a 
 living tomb. The report had been industriously circulated 
 by the Arab workmen whom Hugh had employed that the 
 tunnel into the ruin had caved in on them, and that they 
 were killed. So lightly is life held among these people that 
 no investigation had been made; and as nearly five days 
 had elapsed since that event, and no tidings had been 
 received of them, the inhabitants had accepted it as a settled 
 fact that they were dead. Now that they beheld them once 
 more walking the streets in proper person, they were filled 
 with .a superstitious fear; for how could it be that those who 
 were dead should now be alive before them ? Hugh soon 
 made them understand, however, that if they were spirits 
 they were materialized ones. In this quiet little city, so 
 seldom visited with a sensation, the event went from mouth 
 to mouth until at last it became the common talk. 
 
 After their escape from the hyena's den, they looked around 
 to discover their whereabouts, and found that their perambu- 
 lations in the ruin had brought them down near the Euphrates 
 River. Hastening to its brink, and scarcely waiting to 
 undress, they plunged into its refreshing depths. Here they 
 luxuriated until thirst was completely satisfied, when, coming 
 out, they remembered to their disgust that they must again 
 
BEFORE THE CADI. 59 
 
 don the habiliments, which were not only covered with dirt, 
 but to which also clung the filthy carrion smell of the hyena. 
 Dressing themselves, they slowly and with great effort made 
 their way directly home, if so we could call the place where 
 Hugh had left all his effects. 
 
 Arriving at the inn, Hugh found that his entire baggage 
 had been removed. Mamoun, the landlord, came up very 
 obsequiously and said to him, through Isaac, as interpreter: 
 
 " I am very sorry, sir, but the men that did work for thee 
 said thou wert indebted to them, and came and took thy 
 trunks away." 
 
 "But you see that I am not dead, and I want you to get 
 me my trunks. They are of little value to any one else, 
 but of great value to me. I have not a change of clothing, 
 and these I have on are not fit to be worn for a minute." 
 
 " I am very sorry," repeated Mamoun, "but I tell thee 
 they are gone, and I cannot make the men return them. I 
 did not give them up till this very day, when I thought it 
 certain that thou wert dead. I could not keep thy things 
 always from men whom thou owest." 
 
 "Let us go out," said Hugh to Isaac, "and see if we can 
 buy something to put on." 
 
 They visited every bazaar in the place, but could find 
 nothing which would come near fitting our hero's gigantic 
 proportions. He bought, however, the largest suit he could 
 find, cut after the fashion of the natives, and, habited in 
 this, he started out to see what could be done towards re- 
 covering his baggage. Had Hugh's best friends now met 
 him they would not have recognized him, so complete was 
 the disguise of his present dress. Ludicrous in the extreme 
 was the figure he cut in this loose Arabic costume, about 
 three sizes too small for him, and, looking at himself, he 
 was obliged to laugh at his own singular appearance. 
 
 " Vas de shentleman's bapers in his drunks ? " asked Isaac, 
 "'cause if his credits his money ish gone, I fix dat." 
 
 Hugh thanked him for his offer, but assured him that he 
 
70 SACRIFICE. 
 
 had his letters of credit and other important papers on his 
 person. 
 
 "Now," said Isaac, ".de shentlemans like de curious. 
 Do he vant to see de curious justice of dis blace ? Let him 
 go to de Cadi widout me, an' he vill vind von interpreter. 
 Den he vill see vhat vill happen. Dey vill talk about it 
 before him if dey dinks he no understands. Ve vill get de 
 drunks all right, never fear for dat. " 
 
 Hugh, thinking he would like a little pastime of this sort, 
 took his way alone to the Court of Mustafa, the Cadi. By 
 signs he made them understand that he wished an interpre- 
 ter, and a man was called in who spoke tolerable English. 
 Through this person Hugh laid his grievances before the 
 Cadi. That functionary assured him that he would do all 
 in his power to have his property restored to him, and sent 
 out after Mamoun. 
 
 It is Arab nature, and, perhaps, we might make it more 
 cosmopolitan and say that it is human nature, to dislike to 
 give up anything that one has once acquired, however much 
 justice may seem to require it. We will not do Mamoun, 
 the keeper of the principal inn at Hillah, the injustice to say 
 that he would have stolen the trunks outright, or that he 
 would have connived at keeping them had he known that 
 Hugh was still living; but, now the act was done, he felt in 
 duty bound to make it appear right. The reparation of a 
 wrong is the most difficult thing the average man of any 
 nation or clime ever tried to do; in fact, the average man does 
 not often make the attempt. 
 
 Mamoun made his statement, which was substantially the 
 same as that made before to Hugh, except that he admitted 
 to the Cadi that the trunks were still at his house. Masov- 
 dee, who had been the chief workman for Hugh, claimed his 
 wages out of them, he said. This statement, being intended 
 for the ear of the Cadi alone, was not interpreted verbatim. 
 Hugh now asked if the trunks had been taken from Mamoun's 
 house, to which that person promptly answered that they 
 had. 
 
BEFORE THE CADI. 71 
 
 "We will make him offer a big sum for them," said 
 Mustafa to Mamoun, "and then thou canst afford to be 
 generous to the officer." This last clause was given in a 
 meaning tone, accompanied by a sly wink; then, turning to 
 the interpreter, he said : ' 'Tell him that his trunks are in the 
 hands of several men, but that we think that for one hundred 
 sequins we can get them to return every article." 
 
 Here Masovdee entered, and demanded of the Cadi to be 
 heard. 
 
 "This Christian dog," he vehemently commenced, "came 
 to Hillah, and, behold, the first thing he does is to knock 
 down my brother, for doing as he pleased with his own. 
 The infidel dog, to dare to lay his hands on an honest Mussul- 
 man! Then he has violated the laws of this country by 
 making excavations for valuable treasure, without a permit 
 from the Government. A pretty Cadi, indeed, wouldst thou 
 be to protect this Christian dog from thy faithful Mussul- 
 mans." 
 
 "This is a very serious charge thou dost bring," said 
 Mustafa. "It will cost him quite a sum to get out of that. 
 There will be something for all of us." 
 
 " The serious charge is made against thee," said the inter- 
 preter to Hugh, "of violating the laws of this country, by 
 searching for hidden treasure without a permit. This entails 
 an imprisonment for a great length of time, and," he con- 
 tinued in a confidential tone, "if thou wilt give me two hun- 
 dred sequins I will get thee out of this trouble." 
 
 "I will not pay one piastre," said Hugh, "for the return 
 of the baggage, or for anything else." 
 
 "The vile infidel dog," said Mustafa, when the speech 
 had been interpreted to him. " We will see if he will be so 
 independent when we are through with him. Tell him," he 
 said, turning to the interpreter, ' ' that to prison he goes, 
 until he pays a fine of three hundred sequins, for mining 
 without a permit." 
 
 By this time a dirty, motley crowd had collected, all 
 
72 SACBIFICE. 
 
 anxious to see what the just Cadi was going to do with the 
 Christian dog. 
 
 " Would it not be well," said Hugh, " to first ask if I had 
 a permit? Eeturn me my trunks and I will show you all you 
 want to see." 
 
 " It is in his trunk," chuckled the Cadi. "That is the 
 same as though he did not have it, and we will see, friend 
 Mamoun, that he does not get it." Then turning to Hugh, 
 he continued, "I have not the power to restore thy trunks, 
 and cannot, therefore, get thy papers, if thou hadst any, 
 which I doubt. Thou dost owe an honest debt, and thy 
 property must pay it. I have done everything that an honest 
 Cadi could do, and now thou must either pay the fine or go to 
 prison." 
 
 The crowd, at this, signified their approbation, and said 
 the vile Christian dog ought to be at the bottom of the 
 river, and proposed to put him there for a small sum. 
 
 "This thing has gone far enough!" exclaimed Hugh, 
 thoroughly exasperated. "I came among you with a per- 
 mit from the Pasha. I hired some men to work, and paid 
 them. They in return tried to murder me by rolling a big 
 stone into the opening of the ruin and destroying the tunnel. 
 When they thought me dead, Mamoun and these wretches 
 tried to rob me; and now you, the Cadi of this city, join in 
 their wicked connivances. I have understood every word 
 that has been said. Kestore me my property and let me 
 depart, or I shall report you to the Pasha, who is my 
 friend." 
 
 Mustafa was furious. "Thou Christian dog!" he raged, 
 "thou dost add deception to all thy other vices, and 
 thought, by pretending not to understand, to get us to say 
 something of which thou couldst take advantage ! Away 
 with him to prison !" 
 
 Masovdee started towards Hugh, as though to lay violent 
 hands on him, but fell back, as a pair of derringers in the 
 hands of our hero were presented at him, and a stern, reso- 
 lute voice rang out, " Stand aside, or I fire!" 
 
BEFORE THE CADI. 73 
 
 " And he thinks to do battle against the whole Turkish 
 Empire! " howled the Cadi in his rage. "Away, away with 
 him!" 
 
 " And he thinks to frighten one with a pistol that has killed 
 a hyena," mocked Mamoun, " when every one knows that a 
 weapon that has been used against that animal cannot hurt a 
 Mussulman !" 
 
 " Come another step further," said Hugh, "and I will 
 explode that superstition for you." Then turning to Mus- 
 tafa, the Cadi, he said: "I have with me a letter from the 
 Pasha of Bagdad," and putting his hands into the folds of 
 Jiis unique costume, he drew forth a pocketbook, from which 
 he took a paper, and holding it toward the Cadi, said: 
 " Would you like to read it ? Or perhaps it is better that I 
 should do so myself. He then read: 
 
 "To any one in the Pashalic of Bagdad to whom, by 
 God's favor, this shall come : Be it known that a young 
 American, Hugh Ashby by name, has done the Government 
 and myself great service; therefore, all persons in this 
 Pashalic, to whom this shall come, are hereby commanded 
 to render to him all the assistance in their power. And he 
 is hereby granted the privilege of mining or excavating at 
 any place in this Pashalic, and of taking with him anything 
 whatsoever he shall find. 
 
 "ABDUL PASHA." 
 
 " Examine this signature yourself," said Hugh, handing 
 the document to Mustafa. " Now I demand of you my own, 
 and that I may depart in peace." 
 
 " It is a forgery!" cried the infuriated Cadi, tearing it in 
 fragments. "Seize him! Bind him!" The attendants on 
 the Court advanced toward Hugh, who began to think that 
 his search for pastime, in the garb of one of the faithful, 
 was about to lead to serious results. Determined, however, 
 not to surrender as long as he had strength left to resist, he 
 again presented his pistols, and with finger on the trigger, 
 was about to fire, when the cry ran through the crowd stand- 
 ing without the door: 
 
74 SACBIFICE. 
 
 "Tne Pasha! the Pasha is coming!" Immediately the 
 the court was deserted by all save the treacherous Cadi r 
 who now abjectly implored Hugh to forgive all, and that 
 everything should be restored to him. 
 
 " Get up. thou cowardly cur," said Hugh. " It shall fare 
 better with thee than thou deservest. I go now, but soon I 
 shall return." 
 
 Passing through the door to the street, Hugh saw the 
 guard approaching, carrying the three tails, which denoted 
 the dignity of the high official who rode behind them, and 
 who was, to Hugh's great pleasure, none other than the 
 friendly Abdul. As the Pasha rode along, glancing care- 
 lessly over the crowd on either side of the street, he sud- 
 denly gave a start, and his eyes beamed with a glad recogni- 
 tion as a tall, noble figure, towering almost head and shoul- 
 ders above the rabble, attracted his gaze, and, commanding 
 a halt, he hastily dismounted and embraced our hero in true 
 Oriental fashion. 
 
 " Oh, my friend!" he exclaimed, " do I behold thee once 
 more alive ? Knowest thou the cause of my visit to Hillah 
 was to search for thee ? A rumor reached our ears that a 
 stranger Frank had been buried in a ruin near here, and 
 knowing thou hadst turned thy steps this way, I felt almost 
 certain that it was thou. My friend, thou knowest not the 
 grief which filled my heart when I thought that thou wert 
 dead," And here again Abdul embraced him in the warmest 
 manner. ' ' I traced the report to its source, and found a 
 man from here, who told me that thou hadst found in the 
 ruin a room almost perfect, and having gone in to examine 
 it, the tunnel had caved in upon thee. He told me, also, that 
 thou hadst some little provisions with thee, and I thought it 
 possible that thou mightst have gotten into the ruin and 
 been there entrapped, like a mouse in a hole. Hoping thy 
 victuals would last thee till I could reach here, I set out 
 immediately, determined to superintend in person the exca- 
 vations for thy deliverance, though I feared I should 
 scarcely find thee alive. I have made, my friend, the 
 
BEFORE THE CADI. 15 
 
 quickest time ever made by a Pasha from Bagdad to Hillah. 
 In an hour from now I should have had every man in Hillah 
 working on the ruin. But let us go into the Cadi's here, 
 and tell me all about it." 
 
 Spell-bound with astonishment, the people gaped and 
 wondered at the familiarity of the Pasha with the stranger 
 Frank. Paying no attention to the rabble which clustered 
 around them, Hugh and the Pasha walked arm in arm into 
 the room in which he had so lately stood, almost a prisoner. 
 Here they found the cowardly Mustafa, Mamoun, the inn- 
 keeper, and the treacherous Masovdee, in close consulta- 
 tion. Hugh requested the Pasha to have the crowd ex- 
 cluded, retaining only these three men. His request was 
 granted, and Abdul seating himself, said : 
 
 " My friend, what hast thou to do with these men ? " 
 
 "Oh, most noble Pasha!" exclaimed the Cadi, falling 
 upon his knees, "forgive thy unworthy servant. It waff 
 anger which made me do as I did ! " 
 
 " Get up, man," said Abdul; "no one has yet accused 
 thee." Then turning to Hugh, he continued, "I fear me 
 there has been foul play in this matter; and I swear by the 
 beard of the Prophet that punishment shall be swift and 
 sure, if there has been." 
 
 "Add," said Hugh, "such punishment as I shall ask, 
 and only such, and I will be satisfied." 
 
 "I am afraid," said the Pasha, smiling on his friend, 
 "that thy punishment would be too light. But thou shalt 
 be judge in thine own case. 
 
 Hugh then proceeded to tell him the whole story. How 
 he had hired the men, discharging and paying them when- 
 through with them; how they closed the tunnel with the 
 evident intention of causing the death of himself and com- 
 panion; how he had made his escape through the hyena's 
 den, and finally all about the detention of his baggage, and 
 the disgraceful scene in the Court. The three culprits 
 tremblingly listened to the whole, and denied not a word. 
 
 "Death," said Abdul, "would be too slight a punish- 
 
'76 SACRIFICE. 
 
 ment, indeed, for such an offense; but, as death is all we 
 can inflict, I suppose that we will have to be satisfied. All 
 concerned in this shall die to-morrow." 
 
 "Oh, most wise Pasha! most merciful Pasha! Be mer- 
 ciful to thy wicked servants." Such were the cries and 
 lamentations which fell from the lips of the three cowardly 
 xunians, as they now groveled at the feet of the Pasha. 
 
 " Hold! your highness," said Hugh, " did you not prom- 
 ise me that I should be judge in my own case thai I should 
 mete out the punishment to these men that I saw fit ? v 
 
 1 'Thou speakest aright, most noble Frank!" replied 
 Abdul. "I did promise thee, and Abdul never breaks his 
 word. Do thou sentence thine own prisoners." 
 
 "I thank your highness. I now desire, and such is my 
 prayer, O noble Pasha, that each of these men may be left 
 to the reproaches of his own conscience. Masovdee was 
 maddened at what he conceived to be a great outrage upon 
 his brother, and sought to avenge him. My friend, the inn- 
 keeper here, was influenced by him and others; he refused 
 to let the baggage go out of his hands until to-day." 
 
 ' 'True, most true, O great Pasha!" exclaimed Mamoun. 
 
 "And then," continued Hugh, "I was to blame in com- 
 ing to the Cadi, pretending to be ignorant of his language. 
 I did it for my own amusement, and should therefore suffer 
 the consequences myself. It is natural for every man to 
 take sides with his own countryman as against a foreigner." 
 
 " My friend," said the Pasha, "thou didst entrap me into 
 making this promise; but the word of Abdul is passed, and 
 must not now be retracted." Turning to the three mis- 
 creants, he said, "'At the prayer of this most generous 
 Frank, whom thou sought first to murder, then to rob and 
 imprison, I pardon thee. Go, thou rascals, and henceforth 
 be honest, or the next time I hear of thee there may be no 
 forgiving friend to intercede for thee." 
 
 Mamoun and Masovdee took their leave, congratulating 
 themselves at having escaped a condign punishment. Mus- 
 ttafa betook himself to another room, fearful lest Hugh might 
 
BEFORE THE CADI. IT 
 
 yet revoke his generous decision, and permit the Pasha to- 
 do with him as he so richly deserved. His base nature 
 could not comprehend the true nobility of a soul which 
 could forgive and forget an injury. 
 
 After spending some time longer in conversation, Hugh 
 and the Pasha made their way to Mamoun's inn, where, to 
 that worthy's great delight, they spent the night. On going 
 to his old room, Hugh found his trunks, their contents being 
 just as he had left them, and, once more donning his own 
 attire, he felt and looked more like a free-born white man, 
 than he had for some days past. In the morning the Pasha 
 and guards departed for Bagdad, after many mutual thanks, 
 regrets and embraces. 
 
 On his arrival at the inn, Hugh had found his little, old 
 friend Isaac, awaiting him, seemingly anxious to learn all 
 that had occurred. He briefly related to him the events of 
 the past few hours. In the morning, after the departure of 
 the Pasha, they held a long conference over matters in gen- 
 eral, when Hugh said: 
 
 ' ' Isaac, I have a thought that it is not the will of the 
 Almighty that those sacred vessels shall be removed from 
 the room till the restoration of Jerusalem, and the rebuild- 
 ing of the Temple; else, why has He so carefully guarded 
 them from every curious eye for so many centuries; and, 
 when a*t last we, more presumptuous than others, have dared 
 to penetrate that dark room, has He not plainly shown His 
 displeasure by barely allowing us to escape a fearful death ? "" 
 
 " I dells you, dat vas mine idea too, an' I vas very particu- 
 lar dat de leetle cup I took from de room vas not von of de 
 sacred vessels of de Temple." 
 
 " I would not for all this world holds precious," said Hugh, 
 earnestly," again enter that room for the purpose of remov- 
 ing one of those vessels. The sacrilegious use of thena 
 brought ruin and desolation upon Babylon, and they would 
 certainly bring God's curse upon any one who would under- 
 take to appropriate them. If you choose to brave that 
 responsibility you may do so, but I for one shall consider 
 
78 SACRIFICE. 
 
 that room as forever sacredly sealed from human intrusion." 
 
 "An 1 1 swears to you, by de God of Abraham, an' by de 
 Christ you worship, dat I vill never touch him," said Isaac, 
 in so earnest a tone and manner that Hugh was compelled 
 to believe him. 
 
 "I intend leaving here," said Hugh, "in a day or two at 
 the farthest, and journeying towards Jerusalem. What do 
 you intend to do with yourself, Isaac ? " 
 
 "Dat ish more as I knows now. I vinds up von leetle 
 beesness here, an' den, maybees, I goes dat vay too, or, 
 maybees, I goes to de Dead Sea, for dere I trades mit de 
 natives. I dells you, Meester Ashby, dat for von, who, like 
 yourself, ish not afraid, dere bees many curious dings about 
 dat blace. De Arab hafe many traditions about dose weeked 
 cities, Sodom an' Gomorrah, vich dey say vas somewhere 
 about dat sea." 
 
 "The Dead Sea!" exclaimed Hugh. "Thank you, Isaac, 
 for the reminder. I had almost forgotten that such a place 
 was extant. My childhood's curiosity would not be satisfied 
 did I not visit that place. I shall surely do so before I re- 
 turn to America, and perhaps soon." 
 
 "Dat ish goot; maybees ve sleeps togedder in de ruins of 
 Gomorrah ! he ! he ! he ! " 
 
 "As unlikely things as that have happened," responded 
 Hugh, as they separated. . 
 
 A few days afterward Hugh continued his tour in the 
 direction of the Holy Land, leaving the old Jew at Hillah. 
 Their parting was affecting, and, as the old man gave Hugh's 
 hand a last pressure, he said impressively. "I vill meet 
 you again at a dime an' blace you leetle dinks." 
 
 ******* 
 
 The inhabitants of Hillah wondered why the Pasha of 
 Bagdad took so much interest in the welfare of Hugh Ashby 
 .and as the reader's curiosity may have also been aroused on 
 that point, we will as briefly as possible explain. 
 
 A few months before our hero came to Hillah he had 
 visited Bagdad, taking with him a letter of introduction to 
 
BEFORE THE CADI. 79 
 
 the Pasha from an English officer with whom he had become 
 acquainted while in Calcutta. The Pasha was fond of com- 
 pany, and from the first took a great fancy to our friend. 
 It was the practice of Abdul to go out about once a month 
 to hunt the lion or tiger, and, as preparations were being 
 made at the time of Hugh's arrival for this sport, he was 
 invited to accompany him and enjoy this exciting recrea- 
 tion, which invitation, of course, he accepted. They had 
 tracked a large lion to a small jungle. There the party, 
 dividing into squads, surrounded it, leaving Abdul, Hugh 
 and several others at the spot where he would be most likely 
 to come out. The animal finding himself at bay, made a 
 last bold dash right through the Pasha's party. Although 
 on the watch for him, yet so quick was his movement that 
 no one was prepared for him. The attendants all turning to 
 run did not see that Abdul had fallen, and was now lying at 
 the mercy of the beast, who had stopped in his career, and, 
 placing his forepaws upon the back of the fallen man, raised 
 his head to look around, shook his tawny mane, and sent 
 forth from his capacious throat a deep, defiant roar. Poor 
 Abdul tremblingly awaited the moment when those terrible 
 jaws would close upon his neck. Again that shaggy head 
 was raised, and once more that terrific roar resounded 
 throughout the jungle; but this time another sound mingled 
 with it, that of a rifle shot from the hands of Hugh Ashby, 
 and the powerful animal rolled over in the last agonizing 
 pangs of death. Hugh had watched the moment when the 
 animal's head was raised, and, stepping quickly forward, 
 raised his rifle, took steady aim and fired. The Pasha was 
 really a brave and generous man, and after this little affair 
 a mutual admiration sprang up between them. In addition 
 to his own letters he procured others from the Sultan him- 
 self, commanding any subject of the empire to render Hugh 
 assistance, and giving him the privilege of making researches 
 in any portion thereof. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 CHRISTMAS AT BETHLEHEM. 
 
 >OT long after parting with Isaac, Hugh left Hillah,, 
 and, bending his steps toward Judea, we find him, a. 
 few days before Christmas, at Bethlehem, the birth- 
 place of the incarnate God. It had always been his 
 desire to spend that festival in the place so pregnant 
 with holy memories of the infant Saviour, and at last that 
 desire was about to be gratified. 
 
 Bethlehem is one of the oldest cities in the world, having 
 a history of more than 3,600 years. At the present day it 
 contains a population of about 5,000 all 'Christians, a 
 majority of whom are Catholics. It is the cradle of Chris- 
 tianity, and is connected with so many holy remembrances 
 that the Christian feels an interest in it that he has for no 
 other place. The atmosphere around it seems to be sacred. 
 The pilgrim is shown the grotto in which our Saviour was 
 born, it being a cavity in the solid rock, now lined with 
 white marble. It has no windows, so the light of day never 
 enters it, but the interior is illumined by twenty-nine silver 
 lamps, which are kept burning night and day . On the spot 
 designated as the immediate birth-place of our Lord is 
 fastened a silver star, on which is engraved in Latin the 
 legend : 
 
 * 
 
 "HERE JESUS CHRIST WAS BORN OF THE VIRGIN MARY 
 
 Here an altar has been erected under which fifteen lamps are 
 suspended and also kept forever burning. The grotto is 
 thirty-two feet in length by eleven in width, and twelve feet 
 in height. It is reached by sixteen marble steps descending 
 into it. They, as well as the marble pavement, are worn by 
 
CHRISTMAS AT BETHLEHEM. 81 
 
 the feet, the knees, nay, the lips of the pilgrim generations 
 of centuries. At Bethlehem David was born, and at Beth- 
 lehem Samuel annointed him King over Israel. 
 
 Hugh had visited the grotto above described; he had con- 
 templated the cave where St. Jerome lived and studied for 
 thirty-five years; he had seen the subterranean chapel where 
 tradition places the sepulture of some thousands of the 
 infant victims to Herod's cruelty, and was now walking the 
 street wondering how he could best spend Christmas in such 
 a holy place, when he heard near him the voices of many 
 children. On looking around he found himself close upon 
 the orphan asylum under the charge of the " Mission of the 
 Holy Family." Struck with a sudden resolve, he entered 
 and called for the Director. 
 
 After waiting a few moments in the plainly-furnished par- 
 lor, a dignified-looking priest entered, evidently an Italian, 
 who, in response to Hugh's self-introduction, announced 
 himself as Father Belloni, the Director of the asylum. 
 
 " I am," said Hugh to that reverend gentleman, "a tourist 
 of some means from the State of California, in the United 
 States ; and, as I am to spend Christmas in your little city, I 
 have been at a loss how to devote that day in a way to be 
 most pleasing to the Infant Saviour, should He appear in our 
 midst as he did when his mother laid Him in yonder stable. 
 I was passing by when I heard the voices of the orphans in 
 your charge, and the thought occurred to me that here, at 
 least, I might give*'a day's happiness to many young hearts. 
 Moved by this sudden impulse I entered, determined to pro- 
 pose to bear the expenses of a grand Christmas feast for 
 your orphans, and also for as many more poor children as 
 you can find. I desire none to be neglected. And, with 
 your kind permission, I should like very much to dine with 
 them. What think you of my plan, reverend sir ? " 
 
 * ' I think it the offering of a very generous heart, and may 
 God bless you for it," responded the good Father. " On the 
 part of the children, I return you a thousand thanks, and 
 
 accept your most kind offer in the same spirit with which 
 6 
 
82 SACRIFICE. 
 
 it is proffered. Our poor children will enjoy such a treat, 
 and long remember it." 
 
 ' ' I desire that you spare no expense in doing all that you 
 think would give the little ones pleasure. How many chil- 
 dren can you provide for ? " 
 
 " We have here," said the Father, " about one hundred, 
 and we might possibly find, on such an occasion as this, 
 room for a couple of hundred more, if that would not be tax- 
 ing the gentleman's generosity too much." 
 
 "It would please me all the more," replied Hugh, "if 
 there were a thousand. And, in selecting from the outside, 
 please take those poor little things who have never known 
 what it was to have a really good dinner. We will aim to 
 make this Christmas the one bright oasis in the desert of 
 their poor young lives." 
 
 After placing in the director's hands twice the amount of 
 the estimated cost of the feast, and requesting him to spend 
 all for the benefit of the children on that day, Hugh left, 
 with the promise to return again on Christmas and dine 
 with the three hundred poor children of Bethlehem. As he 
 walked out through the groups of grave, solemn-looking 
 boys, he felt in a thorough good humor with himself, as all 
 men do when they have begun a good work. In this frame 
 of mind he went to his room and wrote a long letter to 
 Miriam Howard. He said nothing of his sufferings in, or 
 his narrow escape from the ruins of Babylon, writing only 
 of the pleasing incidents of his travels. " 
 
 Christmas morning shone out bright and beautiful in that 
 little town of holy memories. The joyous peals from the 
 church bells seemed to announce once more the glad tid- 
 ings: "This day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the 
 Lord;" and sorrowful or hardened indeed was the heart that 
 felt not the influence of that angelic benediction, "Peace 
 on earth to men of good will ! " Children could be seen 
 making their way from every quarter towards the orphanage, 
 and each young heart, notwithstanding the sedate exterior, 
 beat high in joyous anticipation of the good things in store 
 
CHBISTMAS AT BETHLEHEM. 83 
 
 for them. Hugh had looked forward to this day with as 
 much pleasure as any of his little guests, and at two o'clock, 
 the appointed hour, he walked over to the asylum with a 
 light step and happy heart. He was met at the door by the 
 reverend director and conducted to the grounds where the 
 children were congregated in groups, talking and laughing 
 merrily with one another. An Arab child, being grave in 
 nature, never indulges in games. As Hugh came among 
 them, every child respectfully rose to his feet to give him 
 welcome, and the look of gratitude and pleasure which 
 beamed in every young face caused his heart to swell with 
 happy emotions. He wondered within himself why it was 
 that people to whom God had given the means were not 
 always performing some such act of charity, even though 
 for no higher purpose than their own gratification. 
 
 The tables had been spread under a temporary shelter 
 erected for the occasion, and after Hugh had spoken kindly 
 first to one child and then another, Father Belloni conducted 
 him to a seat where he could at his pleasure overlook the 
 whole scene. The orphans of the asylum all looked clean 
 and neat, with their small tasselled caps, and their loose- 
 fitting white garments coming to about their knees, under 
 which dark pantaloons reached to their shoe-tops. Hugh 
 had not been aware until now that this was an asylum for 
 boys alone, and that the girls were attended by some Sisters 
 in another convent not far distant. However, the good 
 Father, understanding the wishes of his new acquaintance, 
 had attended to it that he should not be disappointed on 
 that score, and had provided a separate feast for the girls in 
 their own home. Hugh thanked him for so well fulfilling 
 his intentions. The children from the outside wore, gener- 
 ally, tattered yet clean garments, and each had evidently 
 made some unusual effort in dress to do honor to the occa- 
 sion. Many nationalities were here represented, but the 
 majority were of the native Arab stock. After conversing a 
 while on general topics the good Father, looking at the 
 groups of happy children, remarked to Hugh : 
 
84 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "When we look on those joyous faces, and see the smile 
 of pleasure which overspreads even the countenance of our 
 usually grave little Arab, we must know, Mr. Ashby, that 
 such charity as this is pleasing in the sight of God." 
 
 "It must be so," said Hugh, "else why should the donor 
 so fully partake of the happiness he bestows on others ? And 
 yet, reverend sir, I am somewhat skeptical as to the absolute 
 merit of these small charities, given out of great abun- 
 dance." 
 
 " There is merit in all charities," returned the Father. 
 
 " Why should there be merit where there is no sacrifice ? " 
 asked Hugh. "Here am I, for example, who, having 
 devoted my income for a day or two toward giving these 
 little ones a momentary pleasure, am feeling as good and as 
 self-satisfied as though I had sacrificed something. The man 
 of wealth often spends his means in giving his compeers fine 
 entertainments. He does it for his own pleasure; if he did 
 not enjoy it, he would not do it. Now, I take a fancy that I 
 would like to add a moment's happiness to the lives of a lot 
 of children. I spend no more on this than I would spend 
 on an evening's entertainment at home, and straightway I 
 congratulate myself on being such a noble, charitable young 
 man." 
 
 "I think, my son, that you are not just with yourself. 
 You have more merit, perhaps, in the sight of your Maker, 
 than you are disposed to give yourself credit for. The 
 essence of charity is, indeed, the motive. Every charitable 
 action ought to be done for the pure love of God and His 
 creatures; yet, it has its merit, even though a less exalted 
 motive actuate it, for it is an indication of the love the giver 
 bears to all God's creatures." 
 
 "I argue that way myself, sometimes," said Hugh, "but 
 then again I feel that there can be no real charity without 
 some sacrifice. I feel that sacrifice as well as motive must 
 be of the essence." 
 
 "Sacrifice, my son," said Father Belloni, "certainly 
 
CHRISTMAS AT BETHLEHEM. 85 
 
 adds to the essence, but I hold that it is not always neces- 
 sary to real charity." 
 
 "Some time ago," said Hugh, "before I left home, a 
 poor fellow with whom I was acquainted was suddenly 
 stricken with paralysis. The attendant physician recom- 
 mended the waters of a certain mineral spring, but he being 
 penniless as well as helpless, could not hire the nurse his 
 condition required. A day laborer and friend of the sick 
 man came to me and proposed that, if I would pay the board 
 of the two at the springs, he would go with the poor 
 paralytic and wait on him as long as was necessary. I did 
 this, feeling glad to be able to assist a suffering fellow-crea- 
 ture. Well, I thought no more of it until a prominent 
 newspaper gave publicity to my ' noble action' in paying the 
 board of two poor men for an indefinite time, but did not 
 think it worth while to mention even the name of the gener- 
 ous fellow who quit his daily work, which was his only 
 capital, to go and attend his sick and suffering friend. As 
 it happened, this man was the first to see the newspaper 
 paragraph and read it joyously to me, glad that I had been 
 given proper credit; but he did not seem to take notice of the 
 omission of his own name, or to think he was entitled to any 
 credit in the affair. Apparently, in his opinion, it was all 
 right that the rich should be praised for doing nothing more 
 than their duty, while the poor man might scuffle along as 
 best he could. I was struck with consternation at the differ- 
 ence between the charities of the two, and wrth a realizing 
 sense of the fact that I had never done a really charitable, 
 action in my life." 
 
 " God has undoubtedly placed great responsibilities," said 
 the Father, " on those to whom He has given great riches; 
 and hence it is that the rich man, going to heaven, is com- 
 pared to the camel going through the eye of the needle. But, 
 then, those who have received such a surplus of this world's 
 wealth may do much good to poor, suffering humanity, and 
 at the same time help to insure their own salvation by 
 giving with the proper motives." 
 
86 SACRIFICE. 
 
 Here the attendants announced that dinner was ready, and 
 at a signal from one of the Fathers the crowd of hungry 
 children were marshalled to their respective places at the 
 tables. Father Belloni insisted that Hugh should be seated 
 at the head of the principal table, and do the honors of the 
 occasion. Never before had any of the children beheld such 
 a sumptuous repast. All the delicacies of the market had 
 been procured and experienced persons engaged to wait on 
 the little ones. Hugh addressed a few words to them, telling 
 them in whose honor this feast was given reminding them 
 of the little Babe, who, over eighteen hundred years ago, lay 
 weeping and wailing in a miserable manger in this very city; 
 born poorer than either of them, showing by this that the 
 poorer and more humble they are the more dear they are to 
 His Sacred Heart. He enjoined them, as the little country- 
 men of the Infant God, to always strive to live in a manner 
 pleasing to Him; and that when future years should have 
 rolled over their heads, and their thoughts would revert to 
 this day, he asked them to then remember one whom the 
 Holy Infant had this day made the instrument of so much 
 pleasure to them. Knowing the little fellows were hungry, 
 Hugh detained them but afmoment, and, after grace pro- 
 nounced by Father Belloni, they were set to work to demol- 
 ish the viands before them. Hugh enjoyed the meal him- 
 self, and remarked to the good Father on his right that this 
 day should be noted down as one of the happiest of his life. 
 
 As the dinner progressed, Hugh noticed a sad-looking, 
 pale-faced little fellow, about ten years of age, who looked 
 wistfully at everything, but scarcely tasted of the dainties 
 placed before him. As Hugh watched him he saw the 
 tears gather in the lustrous black eyes, then roll slowly 
 down his cheeks . Leaving his seat at the table and going 
 around to where the child sat, Hugh leaned over him and 
 said kindly: 
 
 " "Why can't you eat, child ? Are you sick ?" 
 
 " Something rises up here," he replied, pointing to his 
 throat, "so that I can't swallow, when I think of eating all 
 
CHRISTMAS AT BETHLEHEM. 87 
 
 these good things, and my poor mother at home sick, with 
 nothing but dry bread to eat." 
 
 And "something" also arose in the big, strong man's 
 throat, so that for a moment he could not speak; then gather- 
 ing the delicate little form in his great, strong arms, and 
 kissing the tears away, he said : 
 
 " Eat my little one; eat all you can, and your mother shall 
 have a dinner too." 
 
 " Then let me take some home now, and eat it with her," 
 said the child. 
 
 "Just as you please, my child," and procuring a basket, 
 Hugh, with his own hands, filled it as full as the child could 
 carry, with provisions for the mother, and sent him home 
 rejoicing. After dinner was over, and the children dis- 
 persed throughout the grounds, Hugh asked Father Bel- 
 loni if he knew the mother of the boy who had so inter- 
 ested him. 
 
 "I do," said the Father. "She is, poor woman, on the 
 verge of the grave with consumption, and all she has is what 
 can be spared from the asylum;" and, noticing a perplexed 
 look in Hugh's face, and surmising that he was wondering 
 why so little was spared, continued : "You cannot know the 
 amount of misery and suffering to be found throughout 
 this city. The preparations for war with Russia have taken 
 away our best men. This has been a year of drouth, and 
 many are on the point of starvation. We go out and beg of 
 the rich in order to give to the poor. We are looked upon 
 by some as a nest of mendicants who would rather beg than 
 work, and as such are often spurned from the doors at which 
 we solicit charity. We have men in our Mission who have 
 been reared in wealth and who have given up all and joy- 
 fully devoted their lives to helping God's poor; and this 
 they do, my dear sir, by begging asking alms of all who are 
 able to give. You spoke of sacrifice a while ago; would not 
 such a life grate on your pride ? I have here a letter from 
 one of our missionaries who is now traveling in your own 
 United States, soliciting aid for our orphans. He was raised 
 
88 SACRIFICE. 
 
 in wealth, an only child, and of a gentle, tender disposition. 
 Let me read you an extract from his letter," and, taking it 
 from his pocket, he began to read. * " ' I 
 
 began to pray for long days for God to send me a cross, for 
 I felt the very impossibility of reaching Heaven without one. 
 He heard, in His boundless mercy, my just prayer, and sent 
 me that of the countless crosses I never dreamed of I mean 
 that of begging. * I never feel so happy as 
 
 when I am asked, at some semi-open door of a splendid man- 
 sion, " What do you want?" That is the cross. Blessed be 
 God!' 
 
 " Now," continued Father Belloni, as Hugh seemed very 
 much interested, ' ' this poor woman is given bread only, 
 because we have nothing else to give. The bread must be 
 made to go around. Not one of the Fathers of this commu- 
 nity has eaten anything but bread and water, and sometimes 
 .a few figs, for months. Not one of them has tasted of this 
 banquet. The scraps must all be eked out to our poor. We 
 hope for better times for crops and for peace. The trade 
 of this city is largely with the pilgrims and tourists; but in 
 these troublesome times few come, and then suffering fol- 
 lows. Just now, we have a combination of ills." 
 
 Hugh was silent for some moments, absorbed in thought. 
 It seemed to him that every time he undertook to perform 
 what he fancied to be a charitable action, something would 
 rise up to shqw him how far short of the mark he came. 
 
 Father Belloni seemed to divine his thoughts, and again 
 spoke : 
 
 "Pardon me, my dear sir. I did not intend to bring up 
 anything about these poor people, but it seemed that the 
 fact of our knowing this woman and letting her suffer, 
 needed some explanation." 
 
 "You have just confirmed my position,'' said Hugh, "that 
 there could be no real charity without sacrifice. All else is 
 only a vain imitation. I have been called kind-hearted and 
 charitable, like many another undeserving man, by those 
 who knew not the meaning of the word charity, and I am 
 
CHRISTMAS AT BETHLEHEM. 89 
 
 afraid that I have always given simply to enjoy the pleasure 
 I have derived from so doing. But it may not always be 
 thus. Will you, reverend Father, go with me to visit the 
 poor of this city ? " 
 
 "With pleasure," gladly responded the Father; "I shall 
 be at your service to-morrow." 
 
 The Angelus bell, then ringing out the hour of six, warned 
 Hugh that he was detaining the director from his duties, 
 and, looking over the grounds, he saw that most of the chil- 
 dren had departed for their homes. Then, with a warm 
 hand pressure from the Father, and a hearty invitation to 
 visit him again, he returned to his room at the inn, ponder- 
 ing all the way over all that he had seen and heard on this 
 Ohristmas day. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 iHE first thing Hugh did at Bethlehem was to pur- 
 chase a fine Arabian horse, on which to visit the 
 different points of interest in the Holy Land, and his 
 intention was to make a pretty thorough examination 
 of the country. Although there are villages in every 
 direction, where a sort of accommodation may be had, yet it 
 was Hugh's custom to take with him a small coffee-pot, some 
 bedding, and rations sufficient for a day or two. He did 
 not intend to skim the country over like the ordinary tour- 
 ist, who flits hither and thilher like the butterfly, and 
 derives little or no benefit from what he sees. Having 
 heard of a party of Englishmen, under command of Lieut. 
 Conder, of the Eoyal Engineers, sent out by the "Pales- 
 tine Exploration Fund," for the purpose of making a com- 
 plete survey of the Holy Land, he determined to visit their 
 camp. They were then encamped at the fountain of Ain 
 Jidy, near the shore of the Dead Sea. Hither, about three 
 weeks after Christmas, he directed his course. He found in 
 the camp Mr. Terwitt Drake, the naturalist and linguist of 
 the party, who, though not yet above thirty years of age, 
 had already gained considerable renown as a traveler, lin- 
 guist and archaeologist. Mr. Drake saw at a glance, from 
 Hugh's outfit and his general appearance, that he was not of 
 the ordinary class of travelers who go through Palestine 
 for the mere sake of saying they had been there, and who 
 ask questions with no apparent purpose other than to put 
 one to the trouble of answering them, and he took pains to 
 give him a hearty welcome. Hugh found it unnecessary to 
 produce his letters to show that he was entitled to con- 
 sideration. 
 
THE DEAD SEA. 911 
 
 " We shall be much pleased," said Mr. Drake, "to render 
 you all the assistance in our power. We are making a map 
 of this country, on the scale of one inch to the mile, and 
 intend to fill in every important object. We have much of 
 it done now, and, should you like, you can have access to 
 the rough draft and take such notes as you may desire." 
 
 "I am under many obligations, sir," said Hugh, "for 
 your kind offer, and shall assuredly avail myself of it. How 
 is your work progressing ? " 
 
 ' ' Our party have nearly completed its work, but I fear me* 
 much," continued Mr. Drake, "that this part of the country 
 will have to be slighted, as our men are all getting sick. I 
 have myself been unable to do anything since I came here. 
 In fact, although this is no Paradise, yet it is the only spot 
 around the sea fit for a camp." 
 
 " Do you find any difficulty in deciphering the ancient 
 inscriptions you find ? " asked Hugh. 
 
 "None whatever. Immutability is the most striking law 
 of Eastern life. For thousands of years these people have 
 gone on, living in the same place and speaking the same 
 tongue. In fact, if we may judge from language, the Fella- 
 hin of to-day are the lineal descendants of the pre-Israelite 
 population, which has never become entirely extinct." 
 
 "Then you think if you were to meet one," said Hugh, 
 "who inhabited this country before Abraham pitched his 
 tents upon these plains, you could converse with him ? " 
 
 "I do; in fact, I almost know it." 
 
 After some further talk upon this subject, Mr. Drake re- 
 marked : 
 
 "As for the city of Gomorrah, tradition places it on the 
 southwestern shore of the sea, although there is authority 
 for locating it on or near the Jordan, at the north end. 
 Somehow I am impressed with the belief that tradition is 
 right. I think it was a small city, much smaller than 
 Sodom. An old Arab, who looked as if he might have been, 
 a resurrected inhabitant of one of those sunken cities, told 
 me to excavate on the southwestern shore; he would show 
 
92 SACRIFICE. 
 
 me the exact spot, and I would find Gomorrah. Of course, 
 it would not do to commence work on such authority as this. 
 And, as I have told you, I have been unable to work myself 
 for some time, and you see our camp is a hospital rather 
 than the abode of a corps of robust explorers, as we cer- 
 tainly were some months ago." 
 
 ' ' Then what are you doing at this place now ? " questioned 
 Hugh. 
 
 " We are simply making some hasty triangulations; but 
 this is almost superfluous, as we find that the sea and its 
 surroundings have been very correctly mapped by your 
 countryman, Lieutenant Lynch, as long ago as 1848." 
 
 "The Dead Sea, its history and traditions, have always 
 had a wonderful charm for me," said Hugh, and I think I 
 shall try some explorations on my own account." 
 
 " It will be an impossible undertaking all alone," remarked 
 Mr. Drake. 
 
 "I have succeeded remarkably well, so far," answered 
 Hugh, "and I have not yet found cause to regret being 
 alone. I then have perfect command of my own party. If 
 I want work done, there are always plenty of willing hands 
 to be found for the money." 
 
 " Then do you propose to make excavations in this neigh- 
 borhood? Let me tell you in advance, my friend, that your 
 health will be sacrificed in any such attempt. Even the 
 Arabs who wander around here have their habitations else- 
 where. Although this patch of ground will sprout barley 
 and they have taken advantage of this fact to sow that 
 grain yet they live a little farther back." 
 
 ' ' I have never yet known a day's sickness, " said Hugh, 
 " and I have been in some remarkably unwholesome places. 
 Of course, it would be a grievous sin for one to wantonly 
 -sacrifice his own health; but, as this part of Palestine has 
 received less attention on account of climate and surround- 
 ings than any other, I feel that I would like to work around 
 here, and try and discover that which has been so long 
 'hidden from mankind." 
 
THE DEAD SEA. 93 
 
 " I fear, my dear sir, that you overrate your strength; 
 nevertheless, if such be really your intention, I know the 
 Lieutenant will furnish you with all the information and 
 assistance in his power." 
 
 By this time the officer spoken of and party had arrived, 
 and, after an introduction and presentation of letters, the 
 conversation became general. 
 
 " If our object," said the Lieutenant, " had been to search 
 for ancient monuments and curious relics of antiquity, then, 
 truly, our expedition would have been a failure. In this 
 particular, Palestine has always failed to satisfy the ex- 
 plorer. Unless you except, indeed, the ruins of Jerusalem 
 and Hebron, the Synagogue of Lell Huns, and others about 
 Galilee, the Head of Hadrian, the Vase of Bezetha, and the 
 inscribed stones from the Temple, all of which have been 
 fully described by former explorers, more especially M. Cler- 
 mont Ganneau, there has been nothing extraordinary un- 
 earthed in this country." 
 
 "Do you find, sir, any difficulty in locating the sites of 
 the Biblical places ?" asked Hugh. 
 
 " None whatever," answered the Lieutenant. 
 
 " And to what cause do you assign the scarcity of ancient 
 relics?" 
 
 "The cause, Mr. Ashby, is very simple. This country 
 has been inhabited all the while by a race speaking the same 
 old language, and, as a building or temple falls into ruin, 
 the materials have been used to build others." 
 
 "And do you think, sir, there is nothing more to be found 
 in the way of antiquities in this country ?" 
 
 "There is nothing, at least above ground, to indicate any- 
 thing more; but perhaps some day a Cesnola, or a Schlie- 
 rnann, may, with a spade, unearth the mystery." 
 
 "But your work so far," inquired Hugh, " has it been of 
 no practical utility in demonstrating the truth of Bible his- 
 tory ?" 
 
 "Yes, everything confirms it, "responded the Lieutenant, 
 1 ' as plainly as the inscribed tablets found in Nineveh. The 
 
'94 SACRIFICE. 
 
 traditions, also, show the reality of events, the memory of 
 which survives, after so many ages, among a people without 
 education or letters, to whom no one has told them or read 
 them out of a book.' 55 ' The Bedouins, for example, have a 
 tradition regarding the site of Jiljulien. Over coffee and 
 pipes, when the day's work was done, it was related to us. 
 I will give it to you as near as possible in the narrator's own 
 words: 'By the old Tamerisk once stood the City of Brass, 
 which was inhabited by Pagans. When Mohammed's creed 
 began to spread, Aly, his son-in-law, "the lion of God," 
 arrived in the city and rode seven times round it on his 
 horse, Maimun. The brazen walls were destroyed by his 
 breath, and the Pagans fled, pursued by the Faithful toward 
 Kuruntul; but the day drew to a close, and darkness threat- 
 ened to shield the infidels. Then Aly, standing on the hill 
 which lies due east of the Kuruntul crag, called out to the 
 sun, "Come back, O blessed one!" And the sun returned 
 in heaven, so that, ever since, the hill has been called the 
 "Bidge of Eeturn." Such is the legend; in it we see mixed 
 up two episodes in the life of Joshua, the fall of Jericho, and 
 the battle of Aigalon.' ' 
 
 " Do you find no old ruins around here ?" asked Hugh. 
 
 " Oh yes," said the Lieutenant, "plenty of them, but most 
 of them are accredited to ages no more remote than the 
 Herodian period. The most interesting we have examined 
 are the ruins of Masada, a few miles to the south of this 
 place. Of course, you have read the vivid description by 
 Josephus of its defense ?" 
 
 " Costigan and some other travelers," said Hugh, "have 
 thought they could find traces of Gomorrah on the south- 
 western shore of the sea. Do your observations confirm or 
 contradict this assumption ?" 
 
 "I cannot say," said the Lieutenant. " If there are traces 
 they are too unreliable for us to work at. There is, I 
 believe, a sort of tradition among the natives of its location 
 there. It must be left to some one who has a fancy to make 
 
 * British Quarterly, October, 1878. 
 
THE DEAD SEA. 95 
 
 a specialty of that to determine whether they are right. We 
 have no time to spend on uncertainties. Our work is to 
 make a correct map of Palestine, which we shall do. But 
 don't you know," continued the Lieutenant, laughing, " I 
 almost fancied that we had found Sodom to-day ? We were 
 taking soundings just north of Point Costigan, and, when we 
 had two hundred fathoms of water, the lead brought up a 
 piece of tile, looking new and clean. I then played around 
 for several hours, the lead seeming sometimes to strike ele- 
 vations, which I fancied might be house-tops, and then again 
 going down into depressions, which might have been the 
 ground. No possible diving apparatus could be made to go 
 down there, or I would not have left till I had settled the 
 question to my entire satisfaction." 
 
 "There can be no doubt, I suppose," remarked Hugh, 
 "that Sodom is near to the sea?" 
 
 "I think not," said Mr. Drake. "The formation of the 
 country shows that the Valley of the Jordan once extended 
 clear on down to the Red Sea, and some terrible convulsion 
 of mother earth caused the valley here to sink, while the 
 country about the south end of the sea was thrown up. 
 If done to punish the wickedness of the Sodomites, the 
 punishment was complete." 
 
 "I don't know about that," said Hugh. "All men must 
 die, and God very often cuts off the righteous man in his 
 prime. Simply to kill a people, would be only the punish- 
 ment inflicted on all mankind. Are not these people cursed 
 with the country? For does not a visible curse hang over this 
 spot in all the blackness of desolation, and is not all this 
 but a reflection of the endless sufferings of a wicked people 
 from the inflexible justice of an outraged God ?" 
 
 "That is something about which I had not thought," 
 replied Mr. Drake. "But, it is true, the people might 
 easily have been swept from the face of the earth, without 
 changing the beautiful valley into a place bearing every 
 mark of the curse of God. In simply dying, they could have 
 learned nothing from the lesson." 
 
96 SACEIFICE. 
 
 "How do we know," interposed the Lieutenant, "how 
 many lessons the children of Israel received by the mark 
 God left upon the country ? It may have changed the whole 
 tenor of their lives, and hence of the whole world; for no- 
 people have had more to do with moulding the destinies of 
 nations than the descendants of Abraham.'' 
 
 "The reasons of the special acts of God," said Hugh, 
 "are beyond the ken of man, and hence it may never be 
 known why this peculiar mark was put upon this place; iDut 
 there is one thing of which we may be assured, He does 
 nothing without a purpose." 
 
 The conversation continued in this strain until supper was 
 announced, when all who were well enough to enjoy it 
 gathered around the rough camp table and began to dis- 
 patch the edibles with a will. As the Lieutenant looked 
 around at the invalids of his camp, he remarked aside to 
 Hugh: 
 
 " When I look at those men I fully appreciate the feelings 
 of Lieutenant Lynch when, thinking his party had con- 
 tracted the disease which had heretofore .prostrated all 
 who had ventured upon this infernal coast, he wrote : ' As I 
 looked upon my companions drooping around me, many and 
 bitter were my self-reproaches for having ever proposed the 
 undertaking ! ' ' . 
 
 The fountain of Ain Jidy has been ,noted as the 
 " Diamond of the Desert." There are two fountains, in fact; 
 one high up the mountain side, facing the sea, and almost 
 inaccessible, and surrounded by a grove of spina christa; 
 the other, some distance back from the sea, and near this 
 last, the English party had pitched their tents. Hugh saw 
 nothing attractive about it, coming, as he did, directly from 
 a habitable country; but, in visiting it afterwards, with face 
 and hands encrusted with salt and tongue parched with 
 thirst, he appreciated the description given by Lieutenant 
 Lynch when he first heard the sound of the running stream 
 and saw the cool shadow of the grove inviting him, "through 
 tamarisk, oleander, and cane to the very Egeria of fountains. 
 
THE DEAD SEA. 97 
 
 Far in among the cane, embowered, embedded, hidden deep 
 in the shadow of the purple rocks and the soft green gloom 
 of luxuriant vegetation, lapsing with a gentle murmur from 
 basin to basin, over the rocks, under the rocks, by the rocks, 
 and clasping the rocks in its crystal arms, was this little 
 fountain-wonder. The thorny nubk and the pliant asher 
 were on the bank above; yet lower, the oleander and the 
 tamerisk; while upon its brink the lofty cane, bent by the 
 weight of its fringe-like tassels, formed bowers over the 
 stream fit for the haunts of Naiads." 
 
 Hugh had observed that in the side of the cliff there were 
 many openings, with regular door-ways, which gave evi- 
 dence of their having been inhabited at some former period 
 by man. Some of these had undoubtedly been the abode of 
 the early Christians, and of the crusaders; but might there 
 not have been earlier still ? Where had Daniel dwelt ? 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE RUINS OF MASADA. 
 
 'AKLY the next morning Hugh, taking with him a 
 trusty Arab to bring his horse back to camp in case 
 he should conclude to be gone longer than a day } 
 started out to visit the ruins of Masada. There was 
 absolutely no road, and taking his way along the bor- 
 der of the sea, now over beds of sharp, broken rocks that 
 had rolled down from the cliffs above, and now along the 
 edge of some deep ravine, with scarcely width enough for a 
 horse to pass, Hugh began to think that all that he had 
 heard and read of this God-cursed country was still far from 
 the reality. By six o'clock a strong north wind had sprung 
 up which seemed impregnated with flames of the infernal 
 regions. It was a relief to shut his mouth and hold his 
 breath, that for a second the burning air might be excluded 
 from his lungs. Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, 
 he tied it over his face, leaving only apertures for his eyes, 
 and pressed on, until at the Wady Segal, a deep ravine on 
 the north side of the mountain or cliff on which Masada 
 stands, he stopped and began making preparations for 
 ascending the ruined fort. Here he arranged a signal with 
 his Arab guide by which he was to tell him when he had 
 reached the top, and whether to remain or to go to camp. 
 If he went to camp, then he was to return the next morning. 
 Taking with him a small repeating rifle, a pick, a single 
 blanket, some provisions, and a flask of water, our adven- 
 turer began the arduous task of climbing to the summit of 
 the rock, for such was the mountain which, as Josephus, 
 slightly exaggerating, said, "was so high that the eye could 
 not reach the bottom of the valley below." He easily recog- 
 nized the serpentine path spoken of by the same historian. 
 Following its winding course now wide enough for two to 
 
THE RUINS OF MASADA. 99 
 
 walk abreast, then forming an acute angle around some 
 sharp-pointed rock, with a footpath scarce wide enough 
 for one to pass he often found himself immediately over 
 the spot he had trodden but a short time before, and only a 
 few feet higher. At the beginning of the ascent Hugh had 
 slung his rifle and other belongings across his shoulder, 
 that he might have the free use of his hands in any emer- 
 gency; and it was well that he had done so,' for in these 
 steep and narrow places he was obliged to cling to the 
 rocky wall with his hands, as he cautiously made his way 
 along. He dared not look around, or cast his eyes on the 
 scene below; for, extending over a thousand feet beneath 
 him, yawned a vast chasm, and one misstep would have 
 launched him into certain destruction. Here one man alone 
 could have opposed and defeated the armies of Xerxes. 
 Hugh wondered how building materials, furniture or pro- 
 visions could have been taken up such a frightful path. Many 
 lives must certainly have been sacrificed in the undertaking. 
 At length he reached the top, fifteen hundred feet above 
 where stood the Arab and his horse. The air was cool and 
 refreshing, and, after resting himself and reconnoitering, he 
 concluded to spend the remainder of the day and night here, 
 and so gave the return signal to his man, who, from the dis- 
 tance, he was afraid would not see it distinctly enough to 
 understand it. By the aid of his glass, however, he saw 
 that the Arab had both seen and understood, and was now 
 turning his horses' heads in the direction of the camp. Now 
 he was indeed alone within the fortress of Masada. 
 
 The top of this mountain, as are those surrounding it, is a 
 perfect level, and entirely surrounded by the ruins of a wall, 
 built on the brink of a precipice, and embraces an area of 
 about three-fourths of a mile from north to south, by one- 
 fourth of a mile from east to west. The wall had been 
 thrown down in places on the north side, evidently by the 
 projectiles thrown against it by the Roman General Silva 
 from the opposite heights, when he besieged this, the last 
 fortress of Judea to succumb to the conqueror. Hugh felt 
 
100 SACRIFICE. 
 
 that here he could well afford to spend a day. There were 
 no signs of its having been recently visited; its isolated 
 position and the difficulty of its ascent in such a climate 
 dissuading even explorers from often attempting the perilous 
 feat. Sitting upon a low, broken place in the wall, he 
 watched the Arab as he gradually faded from view. Turn- 
 ing his field-glass from point to point, he tried to examine 
 the country around, but the murkiness of the atmosphere 
 rendered the attempt unsatisfactory, as even the mountains 
 of Moab, on the opposite shore, presented only a dim out- 
 line. Replacing his glass in its case, he next turned his 
 attention to the interior of the ruin. Here the soil was sev- 
 eral feet hick, generally barren, though in spots a rank 
 vegetation was growing. These spots Hugh found to have 
 been cisterns, cut probably by Herod, but now being filled 
 with the rubbish of their own ruined walls, and the decayed 
 matter of centuries, a rich soil had there been formed. 
 Here and there were seen oleander and tamarisk bushes, 
 some of which were dead, and others still green and 
 growing. 
 
 As he approached the eastern wall, a duck flew up from 
 among the weeds, startled by this strange intruder upon 
 his domain. Eaising his rifle, Hugh fired, rousing the 
 echoes among the hills around, and bringing down the 
 duck. Proceeding a little farther, he found a pool of clear, 
 fresh water, which was indeed a pleasant surprise; and gath- 
 ering some dry twigs, he made a fire and prepar ed his din- 
 Aer, cleaning and cooking his duck therefor. 
 
 After finishing his meal, he continued his explorations, 
 and found several excavations cut in the solid rock near the 
 edge of the cliff and lighted by apertures cut in the face of 
 the rocky wall. One of these had two large windows facing 
 the sea, and from thence the fearful path by which he 
 ascended could be observed. This room was larger than 
 the others, and beautifully stuccoed with pebbles, and as 
 smooth and clean as though just made. On the northern 
 side, he discovered an apparently inaccessible, precipitous 
 
THE RUINS OF MASADA. 101 
 
 
 ledge about one hundred feet below the summit of the rock, 
 the ruins of a round tower. After closely inspecting the 
 face of the cliff, Hugh concluded that it had never been 
 approached from the outside, as there was not the slightest 
 trace of steps down to it. Here was a problem for him to 
 solve, and he was determined to attempt it. As it was 
 known that 'Herod had rebuilt Masada for a place of refuge 
 for himself in certain contingencies,* Hugh surmised that 
 he had also provided a secret interior passage down to this 
 tower. This supposition was confirmed by the discovery of 
 a small window immediately under him, but without any 
 excavation on the surface to correspond with it. Several 
 hundred feet to the west he saw that he could, with great 
 difficulty, descend the face of the cliff for twenty or thirty 
 feet. Following this perilous track, he soon came upon an 
 extensive shaft or ledge encumbered with masses of rubbish 
 and masonry, evidently fallen from the ruined wall which 
 edged the cliff above, and here he found an opening which 
 he entered. This led to the window above mentioned, and 
 looking out of it he could see that the tower was still far be- 
 low. Still no passage was to be seen. With his pick he 
 began sounding the walls of the room, and then the floor. 
 They both seemed a part of the solid rock, but still Hugh was 
 not discouraged. He felt positive that there was some hidden 
 connection with the tower, and he was determined to find it. 
 Again sounding the floor in every part, he finally detected 
 a difference in one spot. Then his search was rewarded by 
 finding a seam in the rock, at which he worked for more than 
 an hour, breaking away the edge of the stone, when, using 
 his pick as a lever, and exerting all his strength, he found to 
 his delight that it moved. With another effort he raised it 
 entirely, and beheld a flight of stone steps. The aperture he 
 had just made was not more than two fefet square, but the 
 stairway through the rock below was large and roomy, allow- 
 ing him to progress rapidly and at his ease. Occasionally a 
 small orifice cut through the stony wall to the outside per- 
 
 * Josephus Wars of the Jews, Book yii., chap. viii. 
 
102 SACRIFICE. 
 
 
 
 mitted the light of day to stream in, and thus rendered his 
 descent less tedious. At the bottom of these stairs, which 
 extended some seventy or eighty feet downward, Hugh found 
 himself in the lower ruin. He felt that he was the first man 
 to stand within that place since the days of Herod. The 
 Sicarii had not remained there long, and the fortress had been 
 almost abandoned for nearly a hundred years before their ob- 
 taining possession of it. This tower had been furnished as a 
 palace by the cautious monarch, and as such Hugh still 
 found it. In one of the excavations he discovered a large 
 number of earthen vessels, which, on opening, he found, to 
 his great astonishment, to be filled with wine.* 
 
 "Wine!" he exclaimed, "wine two thousand years old! 
 To an epicure, one drink of this would more than repay the 
 hazardous journey to obtain it." 
 
 He tasted, and a new life and energy seemed to flow 
 through his veins. It was indeed nectar fit for the gods, and, 
 taking a longer, deeper draught, he forgot the fatigue of the 
 long, laborious day, and, with renewed vigor, continued his 
 investigations. In this room there was also a large quantity 
 of golden and silver plate. Hugh looked on in amazement, 
 and congratulated himself that, after all these ages past, he 
 should now be the fortunate one to unearth all this treasure. 
 
 ' ' I will come back again, " he said, ' ' and take these valu- 
 able things one by one away so as to excite no suspicion." 
 
 The sun had sunk below the western horizon, and the full 
 moon was rising over the distant mountains, when Hugh 
 retraced his steps up the stairway, into the ruin above, care- 
 fully replacing the stone in its former position, and thence 
 up the treacherous, broken track, to the summit wall. 
 Wandering around to the eastern side of the rock, he seated 
 himself in a broken gap in the wall, and looked abroad over 
 the moonlit scene.* Long he sat in contemplation, painting 
 
 * Josephus, speaking of the siege of Masada, says that when the Sicarii got posses- 
 sion of this fortress they found stores of provisions of all kinds, among other things fruits,, 
 which, he says, "were also fresh and full ripe, and no way inferior to such fruits newly laid 
 in, although a little short of one hundred years, from the laying in of these provisions (by 
 Herod) till the place was taken by the Bomans." Wars of the Jews, Book vii. 
 Pliny also mentions the keeping of stores for a hundred years. 
 
THE KUINS OF MASADA. 103 
 
 visions for himself of the country as it was, new from the 
 hand of God, before this awful blight fell upon it. Wrapped 
 in meditation, he had little thought of the lapse of time, 
 when at last his rocky seat becoming tiresome, he arose, in- 
 tending to seek his blanket, and, spreading it in some more 
 convenient place, woo the embrace of the drowsy god. As 
 he turned around, he fancied he saw the shadow of a man in 
 the archway at the entrance of the fortress, at the head 6f 
 the "serpent" path. About half the length of the shadow 
 came through the opening, and then it stopped. The person 
 who cast it had evidently just reached the summit by that 
 way, and seemed to hesitate how to proceed. Hugh, gather- 
 ing up his rifle, drew back under the shadow of the rock, 
 and awaited, motionless and breathless, the movements of 
 the mysterious appearance. 
 
 The country being infested with bands of robbers, Hugh 
 conjectured that some of them, watching his ascent and the 
 departure of his guide and horse, might have followed him 
 with the intention of relieving him of whatever valuables he 
 might have about him. He waited in silence for the space 
 of perhaps five minutes, when the shadow again moved on, 
 followed by the figure of a man who seemed bent with age. 
 Hugh said not a word as he passed within a few feet of him. 
 Then the figure paused again, as though undecided which 
 way to proceed, when, after waiting a few seconds longer, 
 he turned squarely around, and facing our hero, moved to- 
 ward him, when : 
 
 "Stop!" cried Hugh, in Arabic, "or I fire!" 
 
 Unheeding the peremptory command, the stranger con- 
 tinued to advance until within five or six paces from where 
 Hugh stood awaiting him, with rifle presented, and ready to 
 fire at any sign of ill intent. 
 
 "Speak then!" again cried Hugh. "Who art thou? 
 What dost thou want?" 
 
 The moon was shining almost as brightly as day, and as 
 the apparition approached a little and again stopped, Hugh 
 began to feel ashamed of any apprehensions he might have 
 
104 
 
 SACRIFICE. 
 
 felt, for now he discovered that the figure before him was 
 really that of a very old man; but to prevent any deception, 
 Hugh kept his eye closely upon him, and though lowering 
 his rifle, he took in his right hand one of his derringers, say- 
 ing to himself, " I am as quick as this old fellow can be, and 
 as he appears empty-handed, I will wait until he makes 
 some motion." 
 
 " Has the sudden appearance of an old man," at length 
 spoke the stranger, " so paralyzed with fear the poor young 
 Frank, that he cannot raise his weapon ?" 
 
 " Fear ! " exclaimed Hugh. "Why, old man, I could pick 
 you up and toss you over the wall into the chasm below, did 
 I so feel inclined. But I would be ashamed to shoot at an 
 old creature like you." 
 
 ' ' Thou art a braggart, sir Frank, and hast no courage. 
 Thou flatterest thyself that because thou canst stay alone on 
 this deserted height, that thou art brave; but didst thou 
 never hear how the valiant Eleazer, within this fortress, and 
 on the very spot upon which we now stand, slew, with his 
 own hand, first his mother, then the mother of his children, 
 and then, one by one, those innocent babes, and last of all 
 himself and all this for a principle ? Aye, and the deed 
 was so bravely done that hundreds of others followed his 
 example, and the Roman General found no slaves in Masada ! 
 Thinkest thou, sir Frank, thou couldst have done that? 
 Bah ! Thou art a coward !" 
 
 " I have no idea," responded Hugh, nettled at the old 
 man's taunting tone, in spite of himself, ' ' what I should 
 have done under such circumstances. But what has Eleazer 
 and his Sicarii to do with you and me here to-night ? I am 
 here peaceably inclined, and you come along in a garrulous 
 mood, and will insist on quarreling. Now, a truce, I say, to 
 all this bantering. We are up here all alone, so let us talk 
 like friends. I am willing to admit, if that will please you, 
 that you are much braver than I, so let us shake hands 
 and be friends." 
 
THE BUINS OF MASADA. 105 
 
 "Now I can read thy very thoughts, young man," said the 
 other. " Thou art flattering thyself that thou art very gen- 
 erous; that thou hast before thee an old man whom thou 
 sayest thou couldst toss over the wall, and yet thou canst 
 patronizingly say, ' let us be friends.' "Wait, young man, till 
 thou art required to prove thy bravery and generosity by 
 some sacrifice, and then we will see how the account stands. 
 But thou hast asked for my hand here it is." 
 
 Kaising his hand to almost a level with his head, he let it 
 fall with a peculiar heavy motion into Hugh's, outstretched 
 to grasp it. Involuntarily Hugh cast it from him with a 
 quick, impulsive gesture, and recoiled in horror, for the 
 hand was that of the dead cold, stiff and clammy to the 
 touch. A mocking laugh broke the stillness of the calm 
 night air, and the old man continued : 
 
 ' ' And is it thus the brave, the generous Frank shakes 
 the hand he hath sought in friendship ? What is there in 
 the mere clasp of a man's hand to make even a child afraid? 
 And yet, because he meets one away out in this lonely place 
 where he hath flattered himself it hath shown courage to 
 stay, he getteth ill at ease, and shudders at shaking hands 
 with a braver man than he !" 
 
 Hugh Ashby had ever been of too strong a mind to be in- 
 fluenced by the supernatural stories of the day, and when he 
 had recovered from the shock which the touch of the old 
 man's hand had occasioned him, memory reminded him that 
 the dervishes of this country were most clever with their 
 sleight-of-hand tricks and juggling, and, thinking he beheld 
 one, he said: 
 
 "That trick was very well done, my friend. The hand 
 felt exactly like that of a dead man, and did give me a 
 queer sensation." 
 
 "Well, supposing that it was the hand of a dead man, 
 why should the bold Frank shudder ? How would he like to 
 lie for a whole year amid a regiment of dead men, with their 
 slimy, cold hands touching his face, his forehead, and every 
 part of his body, their wide staring eyes peering inco his, 
 
106 SACRIFICE. 
 
 and their ghastly lips kissing his mouth ? Dost think thou 
 wouldst shudder at that ? " 
 
 "This is not a pleasant subject for such a place," said 
 Hugh. " Let us talk of something else. What do you 
 know of the mysteries of this fortress? Do you know of 
 any other ruins? Those of Sodom or Gomorrah, for exam- 
 ple. Come now, you can interest me if you will only talk 
 like a reasonable man, and I will reward you for any infor- 
 mation you may give me." 
 
 "I will do as thou wishest. Do thou climb upon that 
 wall, young man, where we can clearly behold the surround- 
 ing country, and I will follow thee." 
 
 Hugh obeyed, and with slight effort gained the top of the 
 wall. Looking back, he saw the old man slowly and with 
 apparent difficulty following. "Canst thou not give me a 
 little help ?" he said, as he saw Hugh's backward glance, at 
 the same time lifting his hand with the same peculiar motion 
 as before. Taking hold of it, the same horrible sensation 
 thrilled through Hugh, with the same almost uncontrollable 
 impulse to throw it from him; but as the old man seemed at 
 this moment to be entirely dependent upon his aid, he, with 
 a strong effort of his will, held on. When at last the old 
 man was seated near him on the summit of the wall, he 
 began : 
 
 "That was very well done. If the young Frank would 
 sleep with me a few nights, he might absorb some heroism.'* 
 Hugh shivered at the suggestion, but made no reply. The 
 stranger continued: 
 
 " Thou wouldst know something about this country? And 
 what good will it do thee when thou dost know ? The Frank 
 is very proud when he knows something which no one else 
 knows, but where is the profit he derives therefrom ? With 
 all his knowledge, he has not been able to increase the span 
 of his life one day. Yes and gold ! That's what he wants. 
 He would shorten his existence a score of years for one 
 heap of gold to look at and call his own. Then he dies and 
 his body rots and the devil gets his soul." 
 
THE KUINS OF MASADA. 107 
 
 " Come, my friend," said Hugh, "leave out all your moral- 
 izing and tell me something about the country. How long 
 have you been hereabouts ? A thousand years, eh ?" and 
 Hugh smiled at his own suggestion. 
 
 ' 'A thousand years, " repeated the old man, slowly and em- 
 phatically. "Thou art not good at guessing, young man. 
 But of this country thou wouldst know. Dost thou see the 
 faint outline of yonder promontory, spreading out its two 
 wings like a huge bird floating on the surface of the sea ? 
 Just north of the further point stood Sodom, the richest city 
 in the world, and therefore the most corrupt. The Jordan 
 washed its walls, and the land in its virgin newness yielded 
 them a thousandfold. But they got too rich and too wise, 
 and now they are suffering the consequences. Whenever a 
 generation acquires too much wealth and too much knowl- 
 edge, it is bound to suffer, for are they not but adding fuel 
 to the flames which will destroy them? There is gold in 
 Sodom, such as no man hath beheld for thousands of years. 
 Thou canst not get that; but if thou wilt take thy station on 
 yon northern point, just two months and a day from this 
 night, thou wilt see the whole surface of the water illumined 
 by a most brilliant light. Perhaps some of the mysteries of 
 its depths may be reflected therein and it may be more. 
 Now, turn thy head down the coast in this direction;" and 
 with his long bony finger he pointed towards Usdum. 
 " There thou wilt find two ravines. The first is called Wady 
 ez Zuweirah, and the second the Wady Mubughghik. Be- 
 tween these lie buried the rich city of Gomorrah. Some 
 traces of its ruins may be found in the last named of these 
 Wadys, and a tunnel from there in the direction of the other 
 ravine would go through the heart of Gomorrah. And gold! 
 There is enough to satisfy the cravings of the most enlight- 
 ened Frank! But not enough to buy him one minute of 
 life." 
 
 " How does the tradition come which so exactly locates 
 these two cities ? " inquired Hugh. 
 
108 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "Thou didst ask me for information. I gave it without 
 compulsion, and now thou wouldst cross-question me , to see 
 if I have been lying." 
 
 " How am I to know that you are not mistaken?" replied 
 Hugh. "If generation after generation have known that so 
 much gold was buried under that mountain, why have not 
 some of them sought for it before now ?" 
 
 "The knowledge of its existence might have been confided 
 to the wise only to those who know that gold is a curse and 
 not a blessing." 
 
 "And it is very improbable, my friend, that such people 
 should live and have a continuous succession for so many 
 
 "I know, for example," continued the old man, "that 
 gold in great abundance exists in these very ruins, and that, 
 too, where no great amount of work would be required to 
 obtain it. That knowledge came to me the same as did that 
 of Sodom and Gomorrah." 
 
 " Could you show me that gold ?" inquired Hugh. 
 
 "I could. Couldst thou reach the tower of the north 
 side of this ruin thou wouldst have thy desire gratified." 
 
 "Pshaw!" exclaimed Hugh, "that is the merest guess." 
 
 " Guess, young man ? I never guess." 
 
 "Well, tell me, is there anything else in the tower besides 
 the gold? Tell me, what there is there and how it is 
 arranged, and I will find a path to it." 
 
 "Hast thou not already been there to-day, young man ?" 
 
 " Answer my question first, and then I will answer yours." 
 
 "There is wine there, young man; wine two thousand 
 years old ! But, hist! Hearest thou not a footstep ?" 
 
 They sat in breathless silence a few moments, Hugh listen- 
 ing intently, and the old man appearing to do the same. 
 
 ' ' I hear nothing," remarked Hugh. 
 
 " Sayest thou so',? Mine old ears have surely not deceived 
 me. I will see;" and noiselessly and slowly he descended 
 from the wall and disappeared in the gloom. 
 
THE BUINS OF MASADA. 109 
 
 "A strange old chap," remarked Hugh to himself, as he 
 watched the aged, bent figure with curiosity. "I wonder 
 whom he fears to meet." 
 
 After patiently waiting a few moments for his queer com- 
 panion's return, Hugh began to think of descending himself, 
 when he once more saw him, as he thought, entering the 
 archway. Noiselessly he came as at first, and after proceed- 
 ing a short distance into the enclosure he paused. Suddenly 
 a familiar voice echoed throughout the ruin, which made our 
 hero start in amazement to his feet. 
 
 " Meester Ashby ! Meester Ashby!" it called. 
 
 "Isaac, by all that is holy!" exclaimed Hugh, hastily 
 scrambling down the wall, and running to meet him. But 
 when within a few steps of him he stopped short, struck with 
 a resemblance which, caused no doubt by the tricky lights 
 and shadows of the moon, Isaac, for it was none other than 
 he, bore to his quondam companion on the wall. The little 
 old Jew ran up to him, and clasping both his hands in his 
 own, pressed his lips upon them. 
 
 "What on earth," exclaimed Hugh, "brought you up 
 here at this unseemly hour !" 
 
 " You did, Meester Ashby. You did." 
 
 "How did I bring you up here ?" inquired Hugh in utter 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Veil, I vill dells you. You sees I comes to de camp of 
 de Englishmans, an' dey dells me dat you vas on top of 
 Masada dat de Arab cooms back an' leaves you dere for all 
 de night. Now dere ish von story von tradition about de 
 beeples up here. It vas, dat de Sicarii bees not at rest yet, 
 for de crime of killing all de vomens and schildrens, and dat 
 if any mans cooms up here all by hisself, an' stay de night, 
 dey haf. power, when de hour of midnight cooni, takes him 
 avay, an' make him von of demselves. Now dey hav dis 
 power over von mans, but if dere bees two togedder, dey 
 can not hurt eider of dem. I gets two Arab to coom wid me 
 to de foot of de mountain, and den I climbs up all alone, so 
 
110 SACBIFICE. 
 
 as to make de odder man. Now you see dat ish von very 
 short, and very simple story." 
 
 Hugh laughed heartily, and I^aac continued: " Dere ish 
 nodings vat to laugh at, Meester Ashby. How you likes to 
 bees von Sicarii, Meester Ashby, an' you bees von sure, if 
 I no cooms." 
 
 " Isaac," said Hugh, "if you were given to practical 
 jokes, I would believe it was you who was here with me a 
 few moments ago. An ancient party came up a while ago, 
 and thought to frighten me, but on hearing your footsteps, 
 he himself got scared and ran off." 
 
 " Dat vas von Sicarii, sure, Meester Ashby. At twelve 
 o'clock he hafe you, certain, if I no coom." 
 
 "Nevertheless, Isaac, he looked like you, only he appeared 
 older still, and more feeble." 
 
 ' ' Like me ! Look like me ! Oh mine Got ! You ask dem 
 at de camp, when I leaves dem, an' dey vill dells you about 
 sundown I comes mit two Arab, an' I leaves dem about von 
 hour ago you ask dena^too. Den I climbs de mountain in 
 about von hour dat vas very quick for me, Meester Ashby, 
 but mine ole legs travels very fast dis time, for I want to 
 save you from de Sicarii." 
 
 " Then the other party came to me about the time you 
 left your Arabs, and, as I know you to be of flesh and 
 blood, and incapable of surmounting the difficulties of the 
 serpentine path in a spiritual sort of a way, I will consider 
 that you have proved an alibi, especially as he went off in an 
 opposite direction to the one in which you came. And, 
 Isaac, he had such a hand ugh! a dead hand. It makes 
 me shudder to even think of it." 
 
 " Vat did he talk about ? " asked Isaac. 
 
 " Oh, a great many things. He pointed out to me where 
 Sodom was buried under the waters of the sea. He told me 
 where to excavate and find the ruins of Gomorrah. He also 
 said that both places were full of gold, and he was on the 
 point of showing me some hidden treasure in this place 
 when you came." 
 
SACRIFICE. Ill 
 
 "Down in de round tower below?" interrupted Isaac, 
 questioningly. 
 
 "Yes, down there. But what do you know about it? " 
 
 "I knows de story. If dey gets von down dere, he ba 
 gone, sure. Every von afraid to go down dere." 
 
 "Then I have proven the falsity of that superstition for 
 you, because I was down there myself to-day." 
 
 Old Isaac seemed for a moment to be almost dumb- 
 founded with astonishment, and then exclaimed : 
 
 ' ' Mine Got ! You vas down dere ? " 
 
 "Yes, and drank some of old Herod's wine. What do 
 you think of that, Isaac ? " 
 
 "Vine ! Ish dere vine down dere ? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, there is wine there, and plenty of it. But I am 
 tired and getting sleepy. Let us find a good place to camp, 
 and in the morning I will tell you more. I will also want to 
 know something of yourself since we parted. We must 
 have a good long talk." 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE CONVENT OF MAR SABA. 
 
 atmosphere on this mountain top being so much 
 purer than that on the borders of the sea, Hugh 
 slept soundly until the hot rays of the morning's sun 
 shining into his face awakened him. Eaising him- 
 self to his elbow, he saw the old Jew still slumber- 
 ing beside him. Arising, yawning and stretching his limbs, 
 he went to the little pool of fresh water to make his morning 
 ablutions. A few moments sufficed for his toilet, and he 
 turned his attention to preparing breakfast for the two out 
 of the scanty supply of provisions he had brought with him 
 the day before. By this time Isaac was awake, and Hugh 
 proposed that they go down together to the tower and get 
 some of ' ' Herod's " wine to wash down their breakfast, and 
 also to fill a flask for the English officers. Isaac refused to 
 go, and Hugh laughing at his fears, started alone on his ex- 
 pedition to the lower ruin. 
 
 He soon returned without further adventure and with a 
 couple of flasks filled with the wine. After partaking of their 
 breakfast they pnce more took themselves down the " Ser- 
 pent " path towards the borders of the sea. The Arab guide 
 was awaiting them with Hugh's horse, and also one for 
 Isaac, and by ten o'clock they were in the English camp. It 
 was noisy with the hum and bustle of departure; for so many 
 of their men being sick, the Lieutenant had determined to 
 change their quarters. 
 
 " I have in my travels," said Hugh, " procured some wine, 
 said to be two thousand years old. Will you sample it ? " 
 
 Each of the men drank and declared that if they only had 
 enough of that beverage, they could remain forever on the 
 shore of the Dead Sea. 
 
THE CONVENT OF MAB SABA. 113 
 
 " And do you really intend remaining here alone?" 
 inquired the Lieutenant of Hugh. 
 
 "I most certainly do," replied he. "I will stay a month 
 or so, at any rate; and longer if my health does not begin to 
 fail. I am becoming very much interested in some of the 
 objects around here. I expect to visit Masada often. I 
 shall need some boats, Lieutenant; and as you are going to 
 leave, would like to purchase yours." 
 
 "I was just going to mention that," said that officer. 
 "We shall not need them again, and I shall be most happy 
 to loan them to you. The small one you can row yourself, 
 and the large one can easily be managed, with a fair wind, 
 by one man; though I would advise you not to venture out 
 far from the shore or from camp with it alone, because the 
 wind can drop here as quickly as it can rise." 
 
 "I am a pretty fair sailor," said Hugh, " and I can man- 
 age to get along. As the Society, under whose auspices you 
 are at work, is maintained by voluntary contributions, I 
 shall take the occasion to subscribe to the funds at least the 
 cost of the boats." 
 
 "As you like, sir," responded the Lieutenant. 
 
 " Did that old Jew have a bond of you for the pound of 
 flesh?" inquired Mr. Drake. "He was in a terrible flurry 
 when I told him where you had gone, and he at once hired 
 a couple of Arabs who were lounging around to take him to 
 the foot of the mountain. He said he must see you as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 " He is an eccentric old friend of mine, and has a tradition 
 in which the adventurous mortal who remains alone in the 
 ruins of Masada at midnight is subject to the spells of the 
 spectral Sicarii, so he hastened up there to save me by his 
 presence. Ha! ha! ha! But what time did he leave here?" 
 
 "About sun-down. And he got thereat what time?" 
 
 "He got there in less time than I did, and I thought I 
 went at a pretty good gait, both while on horseback and 
 while on foot." And Hugh thought to himself. "Then it 
 is certain that Isaac could have had no connection with the 
 
114 SACEIFICE. 
 
 queer old party I met. Perhaps I shall meet him again." 
 Suddenly there flashed upon his mind the remembrance of 
 the Jew's parting words at Hillah: " We shall meet again at 
 a time and place you little think." " Was it possible," said 
 Hugh to himself, "that he could have foreseen but, pshaw! 
 what . nonsense to imagine such a thing! lam getting as 
 superstitious as he is." He continued his conversation with 
 Mr. Drake for some time longer, when they separated, with 
 many good wishes between them. 
 
 v The Englishmen's effects were soon packed up, and they 
 slowly wended their way toward Bethlehem. Hugh's eyes 
 followed them out of sight, and then he turned to survey his 
 surroundings. There were a half dozen Arabs sitting around 
 willing to do any small amount of service for a large reward, 
 and who now expected to have simply changed masters. 
 Among them, but not of them, sat a man who, by his dress 
 and general appearance, Hugh knew to be a monk, belong- 
 ing, perhaps, to some order in the neighborhood. On ques- 
 tioning him, he learned that he was a member of the com- 
 munity inhabiting the Greek Convent of Mar Saba, some five 
 or six miles back from the sea, and about twelve miles to 
 the north. 
 
 11 1 expect," said Hugh to him, "to spend some months 
 in making explorations around here, and I should like a 
 headquarters some place where I can leave my effects, now 
 at Bethlehem, and it strikes me that your convent would 
 be a good home for a lone wanderer. Could I be accommo- 
 dated there?" 
 
 "I am under orders," replied the monk, "and can do 
 nothing of my own will; but if the gentleman desires such a 
 thing, it is at least worth the trouble of going to see our 
 Reverend Superior about." 
 
 " How are you here ? Have you a horse ? " 
 
 "No; I am on foot." 
 
 "And you are looking sick, too," said Hugh. "I will 
 send my horse around by one of these Arabs and take you 
 
THE CONVENT OF MAR SABA. 115 
 
 myself in the boat to the Wady-en-Nar, and from there we 
 will manage to get along some way." 
 
 The tired and worn-out monk gladly assented to this, and 
 Hugh left him to make arrangements accordingly. 
 
 "You will go with us, of course, Isaac," said he to the old 
 Jew, who still remained on the scene. 
 
 "No, I has some beesness out de odder vay. I sees you 
 again, if you stays 'round here." 
 
 Hugh turned to the Arabs loitering around and told them 
 they might consider themselves in his employ, and for them 
 to remain there and keep watch over the large boat until his 
 return. He then, accompanied by the sick monk, proceeded 
 down to the shore. There was a fair breeze blowing; but as 
 it was almost directly from the north, he concluded to use 
 the oars as well as the sails. By the time they had reached 
 a point within three or four miles of their destination, the 
 wind began blowing hard, and they made but little headway. 
 It was a hot, parching wind, and as the spray would strike 
 them a white incrustation of salt would be left on face, hands 
 and clothes, as soon as the water evaporated, which was 
 almost immediately. The smarting sensation was intolera- 
 ble, while the intense heat was almost overpowering. Hugh 
 was a strong man and never knew the word fail, and struggled 
 on. The poor monk was pale as death, but said never a 
 word. 
 
 At length, however, they arrived at the Wady-en-Nar, and 
 found the Arab patiently awaiting with the horse. Hugh 
 got out, and pulled the boat ashore; but, when the monk 
 attempted to rise from his seat, he fell back in an almost 
 swooning condition. Jumping into the boat, Hugh lifted 
 him in his arms and carried him to the shore. Taking from 
 his pocket the flask of "Herod's" wine, which he now re- 
 membered for the first time, he placed it to the lips of the 
 fainting monk. The Arab ran off and soon returned with 
 fresh water from some spring in the ravine, of which he had 
 known before. They washed the salt from the monk's face 
 and hands, and he revived and sat up. Hugh asked him if 
 
116 SACRIFICE. 
 
 he thought he could ride, to which he faintly answered, he 
 would try. Placing him upon the horse's back, Hugh walked 
 beside to support him, that he might not fall, while the Arab 
 led the animal along. Thus they reached the Convent of 
 Mar Saba. The sick monk was carried in and cared for by 
 his brothers, and Hugh received a most cordial welcome. 
 He was completely exhausted with the labors of the day, 
 which had proved too much, in that climate, for even his 
 strong constitution. He was shown to a room, where, after 
 taking a cool, refreshing bath and eating a collation which 
 the kind monks sent in to him, he lay down upon a bed and 
 slept. It was sunset when he fell asleep, and he did not 
 awaken until the loud pealing and reverberating echoes of 
 the Angelusbell rang out on the morning air, calling all who 
 believe in the atoning blood of the Lamb to begin the day 
 with prayer. In that desolate country, with naught around 
 but cliffs and chasms of solid rock, that solitary bell seemed 
 to have been multiplied into a hundred, each with a different 
 tone, announcing, even in that accursed country, the glad 
 tidings of man's redemption. Hugh arose, answered the 
 invitation to prayer, and strolled out into the open air just 
 as the first rosy streaks of the morning came streaming up 
 the chasm from the direction of the sea. Seating himself 
 upon a prominence on the opposite side of the ravine from 
 the convent, he remained buried in contemplation as ray 
 after ray from the yet hidden face of the God of Day revealed 
 one by one the features of the landscape. The bottom of 
 the ravine was more than a thousand feet above the level of 
 the sea, and the cliffs arose on either side of him more than 
 four hundred feet high. The convent itself was a singular 
 structure. Its walls of solid masonry spanning the ravine 
 and standing against the face of the cliff, had, generation 
 after generation, climbed along up it until, in excavation 
 and masonry, it had reached the very top. No wood what- 
 ever was used in the exterior construction, and but very 
 little in the interior. Hugh's reverie was broken by the 
 summons to breakfast, which he obeyed without delay, and 
 
THE CONVENT OF MAE SABA. 117 
 
 entered the refectory where the community were congre- 
 gated. Some twenty monks were gathered around the table, 
 which was bare of any cloth, and contained only a few spare 
 dishes of vegetables and bread, with no more palatable drink 
 than cold water to accompany them. At one place, however, 
 a clean, white napkin had been spread, and on this was a 
 savory dish of meat, with some nice biscuit and fresh butter 
 and honey, together with a small pot of steaming, hot coffee. 
 This was for Hugh. 
 
 The members of the brotherhood were of many national- 
 ities, principally, however, of Russian and Greek. The 
 Superior was a Russian, and, of course, they all acknowl- 
 edged the Emperor of Russia as the head of the Church. 
 Hugh wondered how it was that citizens of that country could 
 abide so unconcernedly in the midst of the Ottoman Empire, 
 when such terrible enmity existed between the two nations; 
 and he asked the Superior if he felt no apprehensions on that 
 account. 
 
 . " None in the least," was the reply. ' 'The Sultan will not 
 disturb any one in the empire who attends only to his own 
 business, and who he knows will do nothing against him." 
 
 "And have you no difficulty about the observance of your 
 religion, acknowledging, as you do, the supremacy of the 
 Russian Emperor ?" 
 
 "We have no more fear on that score," he replied, " than 
 we would have in your own America, famed for its toleration 
 of every creed. In fact, the Turkish Government is fully as 
 tolerant in matters of religion as any in Europe. You in- 
 formed me, I believe, that you had visited the Catholic 
 orphanage at Bethlehem, over which the Rev. A. Belloni 
 presides? Well, you saw there a number of children of 
 Mohammedan parentage being cared for and taught the 
 Christian religion. 45 ' Suppose some Turks were to go over 
 to your country, which is said to be the best and most 
 tolerant on earth, and, establishing an orphanage, go about 
 
 * See reports of the Rev. A. Belloni, Director of the Mission of the Holy Family; and then 
 read debates in the California Constitutional Convection, February 4th, 1879. 
 
118 SACKIFICE. 
 
 gathering up Christian children in order to teach them the 
 Mohammedan doctrine. What would your people say? In 
 fact, I have read somewhere that even there, quite an in" 
 tolerant disposition is sometimes manifested, and have been 
 told that the great diversity of opinion is all that prevents 
 an outbreak of it. You know, perhaps, that this is not true; 
 but you see distance will add to slander." 
 
 " I have found," said Hugh, "both at home and elsewhere, 
 that intolerance springs from ignorance, generally wilful 
 ignorance. One may be well versed in the arts and sciences, 
 and yet know nothing of the character of his neighbor, and 
 through the same want of knowledge misjudge him. The 
 average churchman will read only his own side of a contro- 
 versy the other side is not pleasant and, knowing this, each 
 disputant feels at liberty to assert the most outrageous false- 
 hoods as facts, so that he who reads is worse than ignorant. 
 In my country, where every one is privileged to publish 
 whatever he. chooses, this kind of ignorance is alarmingly 
 prevalent, and leads to the report you have alluded to. Not 
 only is this the case in religion, but the same spirit is 
 carried into politics. When I tell you that there are well- 
 informed men who have worked themselves into the belief 
 that every man of the opposite party is not only a thief and 
 a scoundrel, but also an enemy to the Government, and de- 
 sires its destruction, you will think, perhaps, that I am 
 exaggerating." 
 
 The conversation continued in this strain for some minutes 
 longer, when Hugh, broaching the object of his visit, said : 
 
 " I have determined on making some exploration on my 
 own account around this sea, and shall probably remain for 
 a month, and perhaps longer. Now, I would like to bring 
 my baggage, letters, moneys, etc., here, and, while I shall 
 try not to give much trouble, make this place my head- 
 quarters a place that I may call home." 
 
 "You are welcome," said the Superior, "and we will do 
 all we can to make you comfortable while you remain with 
 
THE CONVENT OF MAE SABA. 119 
 
 us. Where do you propose to commence your investiga- 
 tions ?" 
 
 "I am not yet certain/' replied Hugh, "but think I shall 
 examine first a point just this side of Usdum, where, I 
 believe, a tradition places the city of Gomorrah." 
 
 "Then I will have to introduce you to Father Dominic, 
 for he has always insisted that Gomorrah was near Wady 
 Mubughghik. He has a very curious old manuscript, which 
 took him several months to decipher, and, from that source 
 alone, he will have it that Gomorrah is just where you locate 
 it. Excavations, as you may see, are entirely out of our 
 line, except in a very quiet way, to seek for information. 
 We have no permit from the Government for any extended 
 work, which, I suppose, of course, you have." 
 
 At this Hugh showed him the Sultan's letter, which had 
 been mentioned before. The Superior then continued: 
 
 " Father Dominic can, I think, be of service to you, and 
 should you desire it, he shall have permission to visit the 
 spot in your company." 
 
 Hugh was well pleased with the suggestions of the Rev. 
 Superior, and he was also surprised to find the story of the 
 old man of Masada confirmed. That episode had almost 
 assumed in his mind the appearance of a dream, but never- 
 theless he now determined on making a little examination of 
 the place at any rate. He began to feel anxious to begin, 
 and wished an immediate introduction to this Father Domi- 
 nic, that he might get a peep at his wonderful old manu- 
 script. However he was obliged to wait awhile, for the old 
 Father was out somewhere prowling around the rocks, so 
 Hugh busied himself with preparations for getting his bag- 
 gage from Bethletfem to the Convent. He found he would 
 have to return in person to the former place and attend to 
 the transportation of his own baggage. This required two 
 days' time, through which it is not now necessary to fol- 
 low him. At the end of that time we again find him at the 
 Convent of Mar Saba, occupying one of the many rooms in 
 that establishment and feeling perfectly at home. 
 
CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT. 
 
 FTEK Hugh's return from Bethlehem, he again re- 
 quested to see Father Dominic. The Superior him- 
 self conducted him to his presence. Up flight after 
 flight of stone steps they went, through rooms and 
 corridors, to the very tup of the vast building, or, as 
 some architect might choose to call it, a series of buildings. 
 The Superior knocked, but receiving no response, gently 
 opened the door and entered, motioning for Hugh to follow. 
 
 The room to which Hugh now for the first time had access 
 was large and airy, and the walls were covered in every 
 available space from floor to ceiling with books. In different 
 parts of the room might also be seen numerous chemicals 
 and philosophical apparatus, denoting that here a student of 
 Nature and her mysteries had his home. Seated at a table 
 in the centre of this apartment sat an old monk, so deeply 
 absorbed in an ancient manuscript spread out before him 
 as to be totally oblivious of the presence of any living being 
 besides himself. Of rather tall, wiry-looking form, one 
 would have judged him to be about seventy years of age. 
 He wore, after the manner of the East, a long, flowing white 
 beard, and Nature having deprived him of almost every ves- 
 tige of hair, the services of the convent razor had long since 
 been dispensed with. To any one who had paid the slightest 
 attention to phrenology or physiognomy, it was plain to be 
 seen that here was one far above the ordinary man in intel- 
 lectual endowments. Scattered on the floor around him lay 
 books, papers and manuscripts of every age and tongue. 
 
 The Superior, laying his hand upon the old monk's shoul- 
 der, spoke. He started as one awakened suddenly from a 
 dream, then looking up and seeing his Superior, respect- 
 fully arose, saying: 
 
THE MANUSCRIPT. 121 
 
 "What do you wish, Keverend Father?" 
 
 "Here is a young American, from the State of Cali- 
 fornia," replied the Superior, "who has an autograph letter 
 from the Sultan, authorizing him to make such researches 
 and excavations within the Empire as he may see fit. He 
 had already conceived the idea that Gomorrah was situated 
 on the southwest shore of the sea, just north of the Salt 
 Mountain, when I told him of you." 
 
 During this speech Father Dominic had bent upon Hugh 
 a pair of the keenest black eyes he had ever seen. As he 
 scanned him from head to foot and looked into his eyes, 
 Hugh felt as though he was reading every thought which 
 had ever been engraven on the tablet of his soul. At the 
 last words of his Superior his face gleamed with satisfac- 
 tion, and extending his hand cordially, he exclaimed : 
 
 " We shall find it ! But tell me how it happens that you 
 have a clew to this location so soon after your arrival in the 
 country ?" 
 
 "There is something about it that I do not exactly under- 
 stand," replied Hugh. "But I got it from an ancient- 
 looking Arab, who related to me the tradition. I was 
 doubtful if there was any dependence to be placed in it, 
 but I thought I would prospect thereabout a little anyhow. 
 Now, since your information accords with mine so nearly, I 
 begin to suspect there is more in it than I have imagined." 
 
 " Shall I show you my manuscript?" said 'Father Dominic. 
 "I have here the parchment upon which the fingers of 
 Samuel, the great prophet, have moved. This is more 
 precious to me than all the gold of your great State." 
 
 With this he handed out a piece of parchment much dis- 
 colored, and having holes in it here and there. On in- 
 specting it Hugh could discover the faint impression of 
 ancient characters. 
 
 "I should think," remarked Hugh, "that it would be up- 
 hill work to get any connected text out of that." 
 
 "You may well say up-hill work, Mr. Ashby. I have 
 pondered over that parchment many a long day. I have 
 
122 SACRIFICE. 
 
 had to use the most powerful magnifying glasses, and have 
 applied chemicals to bring out the characters, so that I 
 might read them. If you are curious about such things, I 
 will at some leisure time give you the key, so that you may 
 read it for yourself. In the meantime here is my transla- 
 tion. The words within the brackets have been supplied." 
 
 SAMUEL TO DAVID. 
 
 Now, therefore, [doth] Saul seek [thee, even] in the wil- 
 derness of Engaddi. [And his wrath knoweth] no bounds. 
 Now, [Saul encamped with] three thousand chosen men of 
 [Israel at ancient] Gomorrah, [between the] Pillar of Salt 
 and Sabbah. And his [men were in] sore distress [on ac- 
 count of ] the great heat and thirst; [for the water there- 
 abouts] was exceedingly bitter. And Saul 
 
 "Now," said Father Dominic, "I will show you the 
 manuscript under a powerful lens. You could not decipher 
 all that is left without considerable trouble, even with the 
 assistance of the translation. I have measured carefully 
 the spaces, and have inserted such words as would corre- 
 spond exactly with them, at the same time making sense and 
 agreeing with history." 
 
 4 'That would seem," said Hugh, "to locate Gomorrah 
 very certainly, for even if Samuel had not been divinely in- 
 spired, it is still more than likely that tradition had handed 
 it down very correctly to his time. But may I inquire, 
 Father, how you became possessed of this valuable docu- 
 ment?" 
 
 "There is quite a romantic history connected with it," 
 replied he, "but I will give it to you briefly. Some years 
 ago there came to the shores of the Dead Sea a party of 
 German tourists. They stayed around here a few days, and 
 then left, but pne of them either remained behind or came 
 back immediately. I cannot tell which. He roamed about 
 here alone for some time. Our fathers used to meet him 
 occasionally, but he did not seem to care to speak to any one. 
 One day news was brought us that a man was wounded and 
 
THE MANUSCRIPT. 123 
 
 robbed between here and Ain Jidy, and near the latter 
 place. Several of the brotherhood started out immediately 
 with all the appliances for relieving the wounded. They 
 found him in a very precarious condition, and placing him 
 on a litter, they brought him to the convent. I tried to talk 
 with him, but the poor young man's mind began to wander, 
 if, indeed, he had not been insane before. He spoke with 
 great difficulty, and seeing that his wounds were mortal, I 
 wanted him to spend the remainder of his breath in beseech- 
 ing the clemency of the God before whom he must so soon 
 appear. In a lucid interval, however, he said : 
 
 "I have been high up in the mountain of Engaddi, and 
 there found David's Cave. I have a manuscript which I am 
 certain will prove it." Then the poor young man's mind 
 again wandered, and in his delirium he said : 
 
 ' 'When the light illumined the sea, I saw Sodom arise 
 in all her grandeur and beauty. I walked her streets, and 
 saw her people. Oh, Sara ! Sara ! I might have won a 
 crown of eternal glory, but oh, the sacrifice the awful sac- 
 rifice ! I will tell it you," he cried, rising to his elbow, but 
 before he could utter another word he fell back upon his bed 
 dead. This manuscript I found upon his person, also his 
 address. I embalmed his body, and wrote to his family 
 myself. His brother came and took away the remains, and 
 it was of him that I begged that I might retain the manu- 
 script." 
 
 "This is a very interesting history," remarked Hugh, 
 " brief as it is. But is there ever, really, a light upon the 
 sea? I have read that there was." 
 
 " Oh, yes," responded the Father, " occasionally there is 
 seen a kind of phosphorescent light upon a portion, and 
 sometimes upon the whole surface of the sea; and this is 
 especially the case once a year, when the whole southern 
 end is most brilliant in its mystic illumination. But this is 
 always preceded by such terribly hot blighting winds, that 
 even the Arabs flee to a distance. These winds seem to 
 leave no air for one to breathe, and almost seem to dry up 
 
124 SACRIFICE. 
 
 the blood in one's veins aye, the very marrow in his bones." 
 
 "When do you expect this light again in its intensity?" 
 asked Hugh. 
 
 " In about two months." 
 
 The Superior had left them, unnoticed, some time before, 
 and while Father Dominic busied himself in carefully put- 
 ting away the old manuscripts, Hugh indulged in some per- 
 plexing reflections. Never allowing himself for an instant 
 to entertain any thought of the supernatural, yet there 
 seemed some connection between the old man of Masada 
 and the story of the young German. His old man had told 
 him to be at a certain point at a stated time, and he would 
 see the mysteries of the deep reflected. Might it not be 
 that there existed some natural phenomenon, as yet undis- 
 covered, through which objects in the bottom of this sea 
 were reflected in the atmosphere ? and might not the German 
 have been overcome by the intense heat, and fancied, when 
 he saw the reflection, that he had walked in the streets of a 
 city ? He was determined to probe the matter to the bot- 
 tom, and resolved to be at the designated spot at the time 
 indicated. Gomorrah was clearly enough located, both by 
 the old man of Masada and by the ancient manuscript, to 
 justify him in proceeding with work in that direction. Turn- 
 ing to Father Dominic, he told him of the treasure he had 
 discovered on Masada, but he gave no hint of his interview 
 with the old man, nor the unexpected appearance of Isaac, 
 the Jew. 
 
 "We must, "he said, " manage to bring that treasure here, 
 without exciting the suspicions of the Arabs." 
 
 Father Dominic remained in thought for a moment, and 
 then said: " I think we can easily settle that. Members of 
 this community are continually traveling around the country, 
 in order to gather provisions to store away for times of need. 
 When we have means, we buy, and when we find one who 
 has a surplus and is disposed to waste it, we try to beg some 
 of it. They would think nothing of seeing any of the 
 brotherhood carrying burdens from any part of the country. 
 
THE MANUSCRIPT. 125 
 
 I can select some four or five for that purpose of course 
 with the consent of the Superior, for you understand that we 
 are all under obedience here who can bring it all in here 
 in the course of a month, without exciting suspicion." 
 
 "Then, as I have given you the directions where to find 
 it, I will leave the rest to you. When shall we make a 
 reconnoissance down to Gomorrah ? " 
 
 "At any time it may suit your convenience." 
 
 "Changing the conversation somewhat," said Hugh, 
 " what do you think of the Fellahin of to-day, and their 
 descent from the pre-Israelitic stock of this country ? That 
 idea has been advanced of late by more than one man of 
 learning." 
 
 " I think, myself, there is no doubt in the world of it," 
 replied the Father. " We have manuscripts here over 3,000 
 years old, which prove this." 
 
 ' ' Do you think there has been much change in the lan- 
 guage ?" 
 
 "Time, of course, has brought with it some additions, 
 and some few changes, but these are entirely dialectic; and 
 the further we go back the less change we find. For exam- 
 ple, compare the language of 3,000 years ago with that of 
 2,000, and you will find not a shade's difference; but since 
 that time the Romans, and then others, coming in among 
 them, have caused some additions." 
 
 "I should like, above all thiygs," said Hugh, "to study 
 those old manuscripts; and I have a notion, if you, dear sir, 
 will play teacher, to go to school for awhile before we do 
 anything else." 
 
 "As the Reverend Father Superior has turned me over to 
 you," the Father replied, smiling, "I am subject to your 
 orders; but really I should be much pleased to give you any 
 instruction within my ability. Here are old manuscripts 
 that we can go over, and I will point out to you any differ- 
 ence that may exist." 
 
 So saying, he threw down bundle after bundle of dingy- 
 
126 SACKIFICE. 
 
 looking parchments, as though he intended to go through 
 them all, on the instant. 
 
 "This library," he continued with a pardonable pride, 
 "contains more old books and more manuscripts than any 
 other in the world, and you can have the free use of it, 
 together with all the information your humble servant has 
 been able to gather for the last half century." 
 
 "Is it possible that you have been here so long as that?" 
 asked Hugh. 
 
 "I came here," he replied, "at the age of twenty-three, 
 and having, even at that time, some reputation as a linguist 
 among the Fathers, I was put here in the library, and here 
 I have remained for fifty years." 
 
 " I would like," said Hugh, "to be able to spend at least 
 a year with you." 
 
 "You are young, my son, and when you are once fairly 
 oommenced delving in these old parchments, you may stay 
 longer than a year. We have here not only a library of rare 
 works, but besides these apparatus, which you see in this 
 room, we have also a fine laboratory, which I will show you.'' 
 Thus speaking he led the way into an adjoining apartment, 
 which Hugh could see was supplied with every conceivable 
 apparatus for chemical analysis. 
 
 "And here," he continued, going into still another room, 
 " here you see, on the top of this cliff, we have an observa- 
 tory. You can now well imagine that those fifty years have 
 not been a drag to me. Other Fathers work with me here, 
 and we gather whatever is of practical value, and put it 
 under its proper heading, in these big books you see on 
 yonder shelf." 
 
 "How does it happen,' 7 inquired Hugh, "that you have 
 such a large building here ? You seem to have room for an 
 army." 
 
 "As I told you awhile ago, we collect provisions, and store 
 them, so that in time of great distress we are enabled to feed 
 the poor people around us and keep them from starving. I 
 will show you through our store-rooms some day. This has 
 
THE MANUSCRIPT. 127 
 
 been a hard year, and they are not so full as they have been; 
 but still we must keep a large amount on hand for fear of 
 worse times still. No member of this order can be idle a 
 day when in health. If not collecting or distributing, he 
 must busy himself making more room. 7 ' 
 
 By this time Hugh felt himself thoroughly domesticated 
 in this solitary convent, and looked forward with great inter- 
 est to the work in view. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE SIROCCO. 
 
 , WO months have elapsed since Hugh Ashby's meet- 
 ing with the old man of Masada. But little work 
 has been done toward finding the buried city of 
 Gomorrah, for it has suited the fancy of Hugh to 
 spend the most of his time in the library of the Convent 
 of Mar Saba. Perched in this lofty aerie, between heaven 
 and earth, he had found much that was interesting and in- 
 structive; for Father Dominic, being by far the most learned 
 man he had ever met, imparted to him, each day, something 
 of absorbing interest. His principal occupation, however, 
 was the study of the language of the country, with its cor- 
 ruptions and additions of the centuries pas fc. The old monk 
 was well pleased with the aptness and progress of his pupil, 
 and, before two months had passed, said that now he felt 
 certain that he could converse with one of the ancient resi- 
 dents of Gomorrah, if there were such a thing as resurrect- 
 ing one alive, in the course of their excavations. 
 
 The treasure had all been removed from Masada to the 
 Convent, apparently without exciting the suspicion of any 
 one. Its value for the metal alone was more than two hun- 
 dred thousand dollars, and Hugh insisted that half of it at 
 least was the property of the Brotherhood. Their share, he 
 said, would certainly be used for charity, while his might go 
 to sorae more ignoble end. 
 
 Just as the sun was rising over the distant hills of Moab, 
 Hugh seated himself on the topmost craig of Mar Saba, and 
 overlooked the scene. The landscape, though neither beau- 
 tiful nor charming, still possessed a peculiar grandeur of its 
 own. With the eye, he could trace the course of the brook 
 Kidron, almost from Jerusalem to the sea. The lofty cliffs 
 
THE SIROCCO. 129 
 
 and deep chasms appeared awfully magnificent as the sun 
 threw his slanting rays upon them; but the blackened, incin- 
 erated look, and the entire absence of verdure or vegetation 
 of any kind, impressed him deeply with the thought that 
 terrible, indeed, are the righteous judgments of an offended 
 God. 
 
 " To-morrow night," he soliloquized, "is the time the old 
 man of Masada told me to be at Point Costigan. At that 
 time, also, Father Dominic looks for the blighting winds 
 and the brilliant light. I feel impelled to go, even though 
 it would appear foolish to expect to see anything extra- 
 ordinary at the mere say-so of a crazy old Arab. But, then, 
 the young German what did he see ? To see and sketch a 
 reflection of Sodom would well be worth the hardships of 
 the wind, if it is possible for one to live in it at all. I will 
 go I will cross over the eastern shore to-day; for if what 
 Father Dominic says is true, to-morrow it will be impos- 
 sible." 
 
 He then descended into the library, where the monk, even 
 this early in the morning, was busily engaged with his 
 books. 
 
 "I shall go across to the east side of the sea to-day," said 
 Hugh, " and may not return for several days. In the mean- 
 time do not be uneasy about me." 
 
 " But, my son, this is the time for those fearful scorching 
 gales I told ytu of before, and they are two-fold worse on 
 that side than on this. I would advise you to postpone your 
 excursion for several days, when all will be again calm." 
 
 "I will go, and if the heat becomes too intense I can 
 retreat; if not, I will press on and see what there is to be 
 seen." 
 
 " But, my son, what can be seen but the light? And we 
 can go out on one of these craigs here and behold that, and 
 the influence of the scorching wind will not disturb us." 
 
 "I will go," returned Hugh, "and go alone. In the 
 meantime, Father, pray for me." 
 9 
 
130 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "That," said the old man, in an anxious tone, "we will 
 all most certainly do." 
 
 After breakfast Hugh packed up a few days' -provisions, 
 taking a large flask of the wine from Herod's store-house 
 and some water, and started out on horseback, taking with 
 him a young Arab to bring the animal back. On arriving 
 at the sea-shore he found its surface as smooth as polished 
 glass, and his small boat undisturbed in the place where he 
 had left it. He entered it, and rowed along down towards 
 Ain Jidy. He still retained three or four Arabs at that cen- 
 tral point, and, on arriving there, he found them making 
 preparations for departure. The hot wind was coming, they 
 said, in which no man could breathe or live. Even the 
 frogs, they told him, which he had heard croaking around, 
 and the lizards and scorpions of the rocks, were hunting a 
 place of refuge away from the dread effects of that deathly 
 simoom. Hugh, however, had determined on braving it, 
 and, mooring his largest boat so as to stand the storm, if 
 one came, he took the smaller one aud rowed straight across 
 the calm, still waters towards the eastern shore. The Arabs, 
 who had become really attached to him, looked after the 
 boat in wonderment, mixed with alarm. " But then," they 
 thought, ' ' before the morrow he will be safely sheltered in 
 some spot distant from the sea, and away from its deadly, 
 scorching breath." 
 
 Not a ripple had as yet disturbed the calm surface of the 
 sea when Hugh landed, and the day had been one of the 
 most pleasant which he had experienced since his arrival in 
 that desolate region. He pulled his boat entirely out of the 
 water, and then tied the line to a huge rock. The shore all 
 around here was incrusted with salt, and as far as the eye 
 could reach not a trace of vegetation or animal life could be 
 seen. Looking around to see if he could find some sheltered 
 spot on which he could encamp for the night, and possibly 
 spend the greater portion of the next day, he saw, a short 
 distance back, the entrance to a small ravine. {Shouldering 
 his effects, he turned his steps in that direction, and with 
 
THE SIROCCO. 131 
 
 much difficulty made his way over the sharp fragments of 
 flint rock for nearly a mile up the deep and rugged hollow. 
 Here he found a little very poor water dripping down over 
 the rocks, and a few dry bushes. Darkness was now setting 
 in, and Hugh, gathering a few twigs, made a little fire on 
 which to prepare his coffee. After eating his lonely supper 
 he there, beneath the shadow of those frowning cliffs, with 
 no canopy over his head but heaven's blue vault studded 
 with its myriads of twinkling stars, sought the slumber 
 which was to refresh and strengthen him for the perils of 
 the coming day. He had tried to find a spot free from the 
 sharp rocks large enough on which to stretch his weary 
 frame; but, being unsuccessful in his search, he was forced 
 to do the next thing most comfortable, if so you might call 
 it, which was to sit on one stone and recline his head 
 and shoulders against another and thus he slept. 
 
 And in his dreams he wandered back to fair, golden Cali- 
 fornia, and once more, with her he loved so well beside him, 
 drove his span of dashing grays along the pleasant shady 
 avenue which connects the cities of San Jose and Santa 
 Clara. The joyous notes of song-birds floated on the per- 
 fume-laden air, fountains on either side tossed their spark- 
 ling waters on high, and the cool sea-breezes played around 
 them, lightly touching the rippling raven tresses of his be- 
 loved. And thus, in that vast solitude, surrounded by 
 desolation utter and complete, he dreamed the night away ; 
 but at daylight the moaning of the winds through the bare 
 rocks of the ravine awakened him, and brought him to a 
 remembrance of his situation. Hastily he prepared his 
 morning meal, with an inward assurance that it would be the 
 last for that day. Hurriedly gathering up his things, he 
 was standing a moment, irresolute what to do, when he saw 
 approaching him from the direction of the sea an odd- 
 looking old Arab, whom he fancied resembled his hero of 
 Masada. As he came near to Hugh he said : 
 
 ' ' Young man, dost thou not know that this day a death- 
 dealing wind sweeps across this sea? Any boy could {jell 
 
132 SACRIFICE. 
 
 thee that. Even now thou hast time to escape, and, if thou 
 wilt follow me, I will lead thee on to safety." 
 
 "I shall remain here," answered Hugh, "let the conse~ 
 quences be what they may. I am familiar with the legend 
 of which you speak, and to-day will test its truth. " 
 
 ' ' Rash man !" exclaimed the other, ' ' one hour from now 
 will be too late. Thou couldst not find thy way out of this 
 place alone. Come, we are losing time. A few miles 
 further back, and the wind and sea may rage as they will. " 
 
 "I thank you for your kind intentions, my friend; but I 
 have resolved to remain on this shore to-day and remain I 
 will!" 
 
 "And wilt thou, then, out of mere curiosity, risk thy life ? 
 Young man, think again! This is not bravery, as thou 
 mayst think, but rather foolishness." 
 
 " Men have lived through it," said Hugh; " and what man 
 has done, man can do." 
 
 " Thou hast heard," said the old man, " of the light which 
 follows the wind, and of some traditional reflections or re- 
 fractions, and wished to see them; but, young man, dost 
 thou not know the penalty of curiosity? Hast thou not 
 read of Lot's wife ? It was for looking back upon Sodom, 
 stricken by the wrath of God, that she was changed into the 
 salty pillar, which shall stand forever as a monument of her 
 weak curiosity and disobedience." 
 
 "I have not the consciousness," replied Hugh, " that I am 
 in this matter violating one of God's laws, but, on the other 
 hand, I am impressed with the idea that good will come of 
 it. My desire is to serve God in all things, and I cannot 
 believe that he will inflict a curse on one whose intentions 
 always tend that way." 
 
 ' ' If one can pass through all the trials and all the tempta- 
 tions that may befall him, still holding fast to these inten- 
 tions and never wavering, it may be well for him; otherwise 
 it were better for him that he had never been born. But, 
 as I am old and feeble, I must be hurrying on. " 
 
THE SIEOCCO. 133 
 
 " You are fleeing toward the Land of Moab," said Hugh. 
 " In that direction once fled Lot on that fearful day of de- 
 struction." 
 
 " Yes; and knowing the power of the Almighty wrath, he 
 would flee continually fc rather than provoke it. But, young 
 man, I have warned thee. Thou hast rejected my warning; 
 now I leave thee to abide the consequences. Fare thee 
 well!" 
 
 % So speaking the old man passed on. Hugh stood and 
 watched the receding figure until it had disappeared among 
 the rocks. Already was the wind beginning to whistle 
 fiercely through the ravine, and he could hear the dull 
 heavy roar of the sea as it angrily lashed itself against the 
 craggy shore. Hotter and hotter came the gale, until at last 
 it seemed a very blast from Vulcan's forge, blown through 
 the infernal regions. A thin, purplish haze arose, which, 
 increasing each moment, soon enveloped the face of all na- 
 ture. Through it the sun shone with a dull, lurid glare, 
 presenting a most singular and awful appearance. Hugh 
 crouched under the shadow of the huge rocks, trying in vain 
 to find a refuge from the withering blast; but it sought him 
 out in every place of concealment, heating the rocks until 
 they blistered his flesh wherever it came in cpntact with 
 them. His sufferings were becoming almost unendurable. 
 His flesh seemed as though it would dry and shrivel up on 
 his bones, like that of an ancient mummy. His eyes felt 
 like balls of fire, set in sockets of burning sand. He tried 
 to protect them from the fiery wind with a pair of glasses, 
 but the steel ribs burnt his cheeks, and dashing them to the 
 ground, he rushed to the little pool. Standing in it, he 
 would throw the water into his face and eyes, but in that he 
 found but a second's relief, for the instantaneous evapora- 
 tion seemed but to add to his pain. Then seizing his 
 blanket, and wetting it in the pool, he threw it over his 
 head and shoulders; but, in his misery, it seemed he had 
 gotten no more than one breath of the moist air before it 
 was dry again. Again and again he dipped it into the pool, 
 
134 8ACBIFICE. 
 
 when at last that went dry. The trickling of the water down 
 into it had ceased. Now it seemed that his last hope was 
 gone, and the strong man, whose frame seemed to have been 
 created to endure, cried aloud in his agony: 
 
 " O God! Thou who temperest the wind to the shorn 
 lamb, spare, oh, spare me !" 
 
 Still holding his blanket over his head for dry as it was, 
 it seemed to afford some little protection from the wind 
 he crawled over the sharp, burning stones up the ravine, 
 searching for another pool in which again to dampen it. A 
 flask of the Herodian wine, which he had brought with him, 
 proved of infinite value to him in all this, for at each swal- 
 low he seemed to gain a new life and vigor. Each time he 
 placed the flask to his lips he found it more difficult to re- 
 strain himself from drinking the whole of its contents . He 
 must be sparing of it, for he knew not how much greater his 
 need might be before the end of this terrible day. And 
 thus, in that desolate place, under the glowing sun, and at 
 the mercy of the ten thousand times more burning wind, he 
 spent the day, crawling from one pool to another. 
 
 Slowly the red, pitiless sun traced his course across the 
 heavens, until at last his reluctant face was hidden behind 
 the western, hills. The winds did not allay with his de- 
 parture, but seemed rather to grow more furious. Accord- 
 ing to the tradition Hugh was following, however, it must 
 soon become calm, and he concluded to make his way back 
 to the point before darkness rendered the task more diffi- 
 cult. As he emerged from the ravine, he found that his 
 sufferings were only just begun. He had now no protection 
 whatever from the winds, which seemed to have stirred up 
 and absorbed every pool of sulphur, asphaltum and other 
 compounds which surrounded the sea. But onward he 
 pressed still onward. The time for vain regrets was past; 
 the stern realities of the present called for all his energies, 
 mental and physical. 
 
 Almost blind, with flesh blistered from head to foot, and 
 lungs feeling as though they had inhaled fiery flames all day, 
 
THE SIROCCO. 135 
 
 at last Hugh reached the shore. In a moment all was calm. 
 Suddenly the winds subsided, as though at the voice of the 
 Most High, commanding them, ' ' Peace be still !" A second 
 of time only between the hurricane and the dead calm. The 
 dull, heavy waters of the sea found their level in a moment, 
 and it was as smooth and placid as though it had never 
 known a storm. Weak, exhausted, and suffering, with no 
 longer the necessity for exertion, Hugh sank upon the 
 ground, and for the first time in his life lost consciousness 
 
 in a swoon. 
 
 x- * -x- * * -H- * 
 
 Delicate female fingers were laid upon his brow, which 
 carried a soothing influence in their touch. A cup of ice- 
 cold water was placed to his parched and burning lips, and 
 he drank. The same hands bathed his eyes, his forehead 
 and his entire face, with the grateful refreshing fluid. He 
 opened his eyes. A soft, lustrous light, rivalling in splen- 
 dor the noonday sun, seemed to permeate the atmosphere. 
 The air was no longer hot and scorching, but soft and 
 balmy as any Spring morning in his own California. Gentle 
 breezes played around him, which seemed to have floated 
 over and gathered the fragrance of a thousand flowery fields. 
 He fancied he was dreaming, and again closed his eyes, that 
 the beautiful vision might not be dispelled. Once more the 
 soft, tender female hand bathed his fevered brow. Now he 
 thought he was at home, with his loved Miriam as his wife 
 that he had been ill, even to the verge of death, and she 
 was ministering to his wants that the events of this terrible 
 day were but the hallucinations of a diseased imagination. 
 Once more he opened his eyes. Still the same soft golden 
 glow pervaded everywhere. Still the same balmy, perfumed 
 air floated around him. "If this be a dream," he thought, 
 "let it not be suddenly broken." Still those delicate fingers 
 touched his forehead, thrilling his being with delight. Once 
 more she offered him the cup of water, and raising his eyes, 
 he for the first time clearly saw the lovely owner of the hand. 
 Neither sleeping nor waking had he ever before beheld such 
 
136 SACRIFICE. 
 
 beauty in human form. "Surely an angel has been sent 
 from heaven," he thought, " to rescue me." A loose, white 
 garment, caught together at the shoulders with a jewelled 
 clasp, and partially revealing the beauties of the faultless 
 bust, fell to the feet in long sweeping folds. A golden 
 girdle confined- it to the waist, and displayed to advantage 
 this perfect female figure. Long, floating golden hair almost 
 shrouded the lovely neck and arms, which otherwise were 
 destitute of covering. To an artist, the face would have 
 been an embodiment of his dream, when he sought to paint 
 the first woman new and perfect from the hand of her Maker. 
 As she leaned over him, her beautiful countenance expressed 
 the deepest pity, which, as she saw him move, and an intel- 
 ligence begin to beam from his eyes, changed to deep grati- 
 tude, and raising her glorious blue orbs toward heaven, she 
 exclaimed: "He liveth ! T thank Thee, O God, for Thy 
 great mercies !" 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 p 
 
 SODOM. 
 
 COMPLETELY bewildered, Hugh Ashby arose toy his 
 feet. Was he still in the land of the living, or had 
 he indeed crossed the river Death and joined the 
 great majority ? He had expected, from all that had 
 been told him, that he might possibly behold the 
 reflection of the city, through some general law of the Cre- 
 ator which as yet had not been understood; but here before 
 him was not the reflected picture, but the magnificent city 
 itself. The fairest of all earth's daughters had given him 
 drink, and had bathed his brow. He heard the busy hum 
 of a city full of life and motion. The shouts of a multitude 
 and the songs of merry-makers came to him from within its 
 walls. He was about to speak, when the fair being who 
 had ministered to him, placing her finger upon her lips, 
 silently motioned him to follow her. As she moved before 
 him, light and graceful as some ethereal being, her tiny, 
 sandalled feet scarce touching earth, she seemed more than 
 ever the creation of some beautiful dream. As they ap- 
 proached the outer wall, on the summit of which patrolled 
 the guards, she turned to him, and extending her fair hand, 
 clasped his in a firm and gentle hold; and thus they silently 
 entered the gate. The sentinel looked astonished at the ap- 
 pearance of a stranger, and demanded the countersign. 
 Hugh's companion spoke to him, and they were permitted 
 to pass on. Men and women were in the streets and in the 
 market-places. The scene was one of busy activity. Each 
 seemed bent on driving a trade, or providing for some want, 
 either real or imaginary. But there were idlers here, too. 
 A crowd of them on a corner cried out : 
 
 "A stranger ! a stranger ! Give him over to us, accord- 
 ing to the edicts of the great King Bar a !" 
 
138 SACRIFICE. 
 
 Paying no attention to their shouts, Hugh's fair compan- 
 ion simply grasped his hand more firmly, and continued on 
 her course, until, arriving,before a sumptuous building, she 
 entered its arched doorway. After ascending a long flight 
 of stairs and passing into a hall, she opened a door on one 
 side, and invited him, in tones of sweetest melody, to enter. 
 Here was a divan or couch, covered with purple, fringed 
 with gold. Upon this she placed him, and, turning, left the 
 room. She was gone but a moment, when she returned, 
 carrying a silver basin, containing perfumed water, and a 
 vessel of oil. 
 
 "I see," she said, in the language he had studied so well 
 with Father Dominic, with only a slight variation in pro- 
 nunciation, "I see that thou art footsore and weary. Let 
 me anoint thy feet." 
 
 Thinking to humor her in all things, Hugh permitted her 
 to remove his boots, and watched with curiosity her pro- 
 ceedings. After bathing his feet in the perfumed water, 
 which soothed and relieved their blistered, painful surface, 
 and drying them tenderly with a soft linen cloth, she poured 
 upon them the sweetly-scented ointment. This she wiped 
 off with her golden hair, as it hung in loose abandon to her 
 waist. All this was done with the greatest reverence and 
 seeming awe. During all this time Hugh had not spoken. 
 Bewilderment, complete and overshadowing, had taken 
 possession of him. He knew not what to say, and con- 
 cluded to see more before he should endeavor to control the 
 course of events. After wiping the oil from his feet, she 
 reverently kissed each one, and taking a pair of elegant 
 sandals from a closet near at hand, she bound them on. As 
 Hugh reclined on the couch, unresistant to her sweet minis- 
 trations, a sense of supreme comfort and enjoyment per- 
 vaded his whole being. Now seating herself on the floor at 
 his feet, and resting her elbow on the side of the divan, she 
 leaned her fair head upon her hand and looked up into his 
 face. It was a look mingled with confidence, with rever- 
 ence, and with expectation. If Hugh had thought her 
 
SODOM. 139 
 
 beautiful when first lie saw her, he now thought her a hun- 
 dred-fold more so. He waited for her to speak, while she, 
 evidently, was awaiting some account of himself. Pres- 
 ently, in sweet, silvery tones, she again broke the silence, 
 and said, with a confidence that she was right : 
 
 "Whence comest thou? From Heaven?" 
 
 "Nay," he answered; "not from Heaven. I am but a 
 weak, sinful mortal of earth." 
 
 "And art thou, then, not the Promised One ? Oh, I have 
 waited waited so long so long !" she exclaimed, mourn- 
 fully. 
 
 " For what hast thou waited, fair one?" queried Hugh. 
 
 "Perhaps for thee," she replied. "Perhaps to wait on, 
 and on, until the soul sickens and prays for oblivion. 
 
 "Waiting for me?" murmured Hugh to himself. "I 
 wonder what she can require of me ?" 
 
 Then, as he looked down into those lustrous eyes, beam- 
 ing full upon him, and filled, half with a confident expectation 
 and half with a deep, desponding fear, he seemed called 
 upon to give his allegiance to the very Queen of Beauty her- 
 self. But the image of his own dear, faithful Miriam arose 
 before him, and in the depths of his soul he swore that 
 while his heart might know pity, and answer its calls, it 
 should acknowledge no other love. 
 
 "This is a mystery to me," he said. "I know not where 
 I am, nor how I came here, unless, indeed, this is ancient 
 Sodom arisen to take her place once more among the cities 
 of the earth." 
 
 "Didst say," she uttered, eagerly, "that Sodom was once 
 more to take her place as one of the cities of the earth ?" 
 
 "I said nothing of the kind," he replied, "for I am 
 entirely ignorant of the situation. Please tell me who you 
 are, and perhaps we may come to some understanding." 
 
 " I ? " she said, ' * who am I ? I am simply Sara. I do 
 not belong to the great ones of the city. Dost thou know 
 Abraham ? He who saved King Bara and his people from 
 the King of the Elamites ? He laid his hand upon my head 
 
140 SACRIFICE. 
 
 and, blessing me, called me Sara, because, he said, I looked 
 like his spouse. That is how I am Sara; nothing but Sara." 
 
 "Abraham, child!" exclaimed Hugh. "He lived thirty- 
 eight hundred years ago !" 
 
 "Yes, I know," she said, "for have I not counted in tor- 
 ment and in pain each moment of those years." 
 
 " Tell me," he said, rather impatiently, " tell me where I 
 am. Is this indeed Sodom arisen, or have* I been carried off 
 while insensible to some distant place ?" 
 
 "Why dost thou ask me this thing?" she said, despondingly. 
 4 ' What else can I do to show thee thou art welcome ?" 
 
 Arising from her lowly posture at his feet she again left 
 the room, and returned in a moment with a golden cup in 
 her hand. 
 
 ' ' Here, " she said, ' ' is wine made by Abraham himself. 
 That is certainly fit beverage for angels. The heavenly 
 messengers, who bade Lot to depart from this accursed 
 place, were dressed as ordinary men which thou art not 
 and they pretended to be weary travelers seeking rest; and 
 in that guise they looked into his heart and saw that it was 
 good. Look thou, oh, celestial being! deep down into mine, 
 and see if sorrow and pain have not chastened it ! See if I 
 am not worthy of thy confidence. Oh, tell me! Ar,t thou 
 not the promised Messenger?'' 
 
 ' ' Lady, " said Hugh, more mystified than ever, ' ' will you 
 commence at the beginning, and tell me all about yourself ? 
 I am completely bewildered. One of your age could cer- 
 tainly never have seen Abraham." 
 
 She had remained standing after offering him the wine, 
 and still he held the cup in his hand. At Hugh's last speech 
 her beautiful face was overshadowed by sorrow, that he 
 whom she still regarded as a superior being, should with- 
 hold from her his confidence. Rising to a sitting position, 
 Hugh made room for her beside him, and said : 
 
 "Sit thee here, my child, and tell me all thou knowest, 
 and if, perchance, I can do aught to serve thee, consistent 
 with my allegiance to God, and to a woman whom I have 
 
SODOM. 141 
 
 sworn always to love, I will do so. Now, sit thee down and 
 tell me all." 
 
 "Not beside thee will I sit, but here," and 'dropping 
 gracefully upon the floor, she resumed her humble posture 
 at his feet. With head resting against the side of the couch 
 and face upturned to his, so that he could behold every vary- 
 ing expression which flitted over her perfect features, she 
 began : 
 
 " Since thou dost command it, I will tell thee all I know, 
 which is not much. Thou dost not know how I have suffered, 
 and so long oh, so long!" and she paused for a moment 
 seemingly lost in thought, then again continued : 
 
 " Sodom was a great city. Its western wall was washed 
 by the river Jordan. Its lands were more fertile than all 
 the country around, inasmuch as that he who sowed one 
 measure of grain reaped a thousand. The hills to the east 
 were filled with gold, and the people took it out in great 
 abundance. Sodom grew rich, and excited the envy of the 
 surrounding nations, and wealth brought in its train corrup- 
 tion and evil deeds. When I was a child, the King of the 
 Elamites made war in Sodom, and carried the people into 
 captivity. I was sold to Abraham, the just man, and 
 remained with him ten years . Then the Sodomites and the 
 inhabitants of Gomorrah rebelled against the King of the 
 Elamites, and recovered their land. Then Abraham re- 
 stored me to my people; but before this he had taught me 
 to serve the living God, with whom he daily walked, and he 
 told me that the sinful practices of the Sodomites were hate- 
 ful in the sight of the Most High, and that it was wrong to 
 indulge in any but lawful pleasures. I fell down upon my 
 face and besought him not to return me to my kinspeople ; for, 
 I said, I could have no protection from their pernicious ways. 
 But Abraham told me the living God would watch over me, 
 and if I constantly sought His protection, no harm could 
 befall me. So I returned into Sodom. Then came Lot, 
 Abraham's kinsman, and dwelt amongst us. Two angels of 
 the Lord appeared as men upon the streets, as thou hast 
 
142 SACRIFICE. 
 
 done this day, and Lot took them to his home, and protected 
 them from the rabble. And they told Lot to flee the city, 
 because God had determined to destroy it; and Lot and his 
 family fled. Then the angels said unto me : 
 
 "'Follow Lot, child, and flee from the wrath to come, 
 because the Lord God hath this day resolved upon the 
 destruction of this wicked city." 
 
 "And I answered, 'I will not fly, and leave my kins- 
 people. I will die with them.' And the angel spoke again : 
 
 " 'Wpe be unto thee, child, if thou disobeyest the will of 
 the Lord, which is, that thou flee from this place. We have 
 searched through all this vast city for ten righteous men, 
 but have found them not. Their sins have cried aloud to 
 Heaven for vengeance, and this day shall a fearful judgment 
 come upon them. Fire shall rain down from Heaven, 
 and the ground shall be convulsed and burst asunder. The 
 city shall sink a thousand cubits, and the mountains shall 
 arise and encompass it. The Jordan shall cease its flow to 
 the sea, and all the country around shall be so scorched and 
 blackened by the sulphurous flames, that mankind shall for- 
 ever know that the curse of Jehovah rests upon it. The 
 awful chasm shall be filled with water, bitter, brackish and 
 salty to the taste, and its stench shall be forever in the nos- 
 trils of the Sodomites. And they shall be buried under all 
 this, dead, yet forever living. They shall pray for death, 
 but it shall ever be afar off. Once a year the city shall rise 
 and remain on the surface of the waters for the space of 
 twelve hours. At each resurrection shall the people pursue 
 the same occupations and pleasures as before the day of 
 wrath, that the pain of sinking may each time be more poig- 
 nant. Forever shall remorse gnaw like a canker worm in 
 their hearts, but to no avail. Heaven shall be deaf to their 
 supplications, and all hell shall jeer at them. And thus it 
 shall remain for three thousand eight hundred years. If all 
 that time thou dost remain true, and curse not the name of 
 God, there may be a redemption of all Sodom, because of 
 thee. Heaven may send thee a deliverer, on certain condi- 
 
SODOM. 143 
 
 tions. If, after that time, one of Earth's sons, possessing 
 youth, beauty, strength, wealth, and the love of true hearts, 
 can be found, holding in his soul the sublime charity which, 
 abandoning all that earth holds most dear, shall take upon 
 itself the completion of Sodom's atonement, God may 
 accept the sacrifice. First, he must willingly accept for one 
 year, the living death which shall come upon these people, 
 and then descending into hell, remain there so long as God 
 doth will it. When such a man as this shall be found, then, 
 and then only, shall those of Sodom's inhabitants who 
 accept the plan of salvation offered by the Son of God be 
 saved. Thou wilt know that the time hath come when a 
 <nessenger shows thee this signet, which will tell its own 
 story. And he, the messenger, must have received it from 
 the hands of the one he loves best of all on earth, that his 
 sacrifice may be the more complete.' " 
 
 Hugh Ashby listened to this recital with profound inter- 
 est. He had always held that there could be no real charity 
 without sacrifice, and now his theory was about to be tested. 
 Could it be possible that he was the messenger ordained by 
 Heaven to redeem this people. Great drops of sweat stood 
 upon his forehead, and he exclaimed : 
 
 " O God! Thy will be done, not mine." 
 
 Regardless of his emotion, Sara continued: "And the 
 angels left. And then," she exclaimed, springing to her feet 
 and throwing her hands upwards, as though to shield her- 
 self from some impending danger, while her eyes rolled in 
 frenzy, and her whole face and attitude indicated intense 
 agony. "And then! O God! it sets my blood on fire, and 
 melts the very marrow in my bones to think on what fol- 
 lowed. Crash! crash! crash! went the thunderbolts of 
 Heaven ! Sheets of fire and brimstone descended from on 
 high. Solid rocks were melted, and ran down the streets 
 like water. The Jordan was dried up, and its very bed 
 turned to ashes. Amidst all this surrounded by the 
 scorching flames and the terrific thunders of an angry God', 
 men walked. They sought death, but it fled from them. 
 
144 SACRIFICE. 
 
 They prayed for oblivion/ only to feel more keenly the hor- 
 rors which were upon them. All the day, sheet after sheet 
 of sulphurous flame poured down. All tKe day was the 
 avenging voice of doom roaring about us. Did I say for a 
 day? O God, that it had been only for a day! Louder, 
 fiercer grew the reverberating thunders thicker, faster, 
 hotter came the flames, until the very earth itself burned 
 like so much tinder in a furnace. Still no house, no stone 
 of the city was destroyed. Men and women ran from place 
 to place, crying, begging, praying for mercy, but too late! 
 The dread fiat had gone forth, and the sentence must be ful- 
 filled. As the earth and the stones burnt out from under us 
 the city sank slowly down. Oh, the horror the despair^ 
 that was upon us ! Now our sufferings were more keen than 
 at the first moment, for then the hope of death was before 
 us. For six days this continued. All the while we were 
 sinking, slowly sinking, down, down, down into the fathom- 
 less abyss. Then the mountains burst asunder, and the 
 waters, impregnated with the essence of all the burnt 
 matter, came in upon us." 
 
 Almost exhausted she seemed as this terrible picture arose 
 before her mental vision. She was pale as the white gar- 
 ment she wore, and she seemed as though about to fall. 
 Instinctively Hugh sprung to her assistance. 
 
 1 'Thank you," she said, motioning him gently back; 
 "but it is decreed that I shall never for one moment lose 
 consciousness; therefore, I cannot swoon. Would that I 
 could drink of oblivious waters forget the past, and re- 
 main unconscious until called to enjoy the presence of my 
 Maker, for of that I have the assurance in the end. Oh, 
 how slight a punishment it would be to die, if death meant 
 only oblivion. But when God breathes into our nostrils a. 
 living soul, He demands that it shall return to him pure and 
 without spot. Every sin unrepented of in the time allotted 
 by Him, mast have its full measure of atonement. My sin 
 was disobeying God's will in this one instance, and, oh, 
 how I have suffered! I repented me not until the fire came, 
 
SODOM. 145 
 
 then it was too late. Oh, how many poor souls have cried 
 out in their agony, ' too late too late! ' 5 
 
 " But you asked me for the story," and she resumed her 
 position at his feet. 
 
 ' ' The waters came in upon us, filling our eyes, ears and 
 mouth. Each one of us seemed paralyzed in the position in 
 which it found him. The body was as dead; but imprisoned 
 within that shell was the living, conscious soul. And thus it 
 has been for the centuries past. In our ears forever sounds 
 the dull, heavy swish, swish of these merciless waters, as they 
 wash around us, and against the walls of our homes. In our 
 mouths and nostrils is ever the bitterness and stench which 
 has been poured into them by an offended Deity. Through 
 these avenues of sight, which we are never for one moment 
 permitted to close, do we behold the staring dead faces of our 
 companions, with all the horror, all the despair, all the pain 
 of which the human soul could be conscious imprinted 
 thereon. Thinkest thou of the horror of being chained for 
 centuries to thine own dead body in the bottom of the 
 fathomless sea, with cold, clammy, dead hands forever 
 caressing thee, touching thee on cheek, lip and brow; the 
 dead bodies floating around thee, and their dull, staring eyes 
 peering into thine. And thus it is forever. No rest, no 
 sleep, no moment of forgetfulness, but one endless stretch 
 of misery. Oh, what a fearful thing is sin, and how terrible 
 its punishment!" 
 
 "But about the rising of the city," said Hugh; "you 
 have not told me about that yet." 
 
 " The city, as the angel predicted, rises, with all that is in 
 it, once a year, and remains on the surface for the space of 
 twelve hours. When that time expires, then again is all the 
 agony and terror of the burial under the waters, there to sit 
 and fondle with your own dead body for another seemingly 
 interminable year." 
 
 Hugh was deeply moved by this recital. The vision in 
 
 the ruins of Babylon, which had seemed to him even then 
 10 
 
146 SACRIFICE. 
 
 to be more than a mere dream, flashed across his mind. 
 Again he questioned his shrinking soul: "Am I called upon 
 to redeem this people ?" It began to appear to him that all 
 the events of the last few weeks had been leading up to 
 this point. Completely appalled at the thought of such a 
 sacrifice, he bowed his head a moment in silent prayer. 
 When again he raised it a look of firm resolution had over- 
 spread his features, and he said : 
 
 "Lady, if it so pleases my God and thine, to call me 
 to this work, I will not shrink from the awful sacri- 
 fice. Should the signet come to me, so that I may know 
 that I have it, I will return in a year, prepared to do the 
 will of God in this thing." 
 
 Falling prostrate upon her face at his feet, she seemed 
 overcome at the magnanimity of this resolution. Then rais- 
 ing her hands and eyes toward heaven in supplication, while 
 her lovely face was illumined with a look of holy charity, she 
 prayed: "Oh, that this torture may be light! May I, O 
 Lord, thy unworthy servant, descend, in his stead, into the 
 depths of hell. Let this punishment fall upon me, who hast 
 murmured at thy righteous judgment, and not upon him." 
 And as her lips continued to move in silent prayer for some 
 moments loager, the varying expressions of her face were 
 indeed angelic. When she had again risen to her feet, she 
 said to Hugh : 
 
 "Oh, how sinful have I been in complaining of my lot ! 
 I am not deserving of the mercy of my God. How can I, 
 who have been so impatient under the rod, dare to hope to 
 enjoy His Kingdom forever and forever ? He may seem- 
 ingly require much of us, but His power to reward is unlim- 
 ited. If I only should be found worthy to enter just 
 within those heavenly portals, I would be content to wash, 
 for all eternity, the weary-worn feet of the pilgrims who 
 enter therein. And in that humble task I should be so 
 happy oh, so happy!" 
 
CHAPTER XVil. 
 
 44 
 
 clepsydra pointeth to the sixth hour," said Sara. 
 
 Come, and I will conduct thee to the presence 
 of the King." 
 
 Passing through the hall down the long flight of 
 stairs and out through the open doorway, Hugh 
 found himself once more in the street. Clasping his hand, 
 the same as before, Sara led him on. 
 
 " How many inhabitants has this city?" he asked. 
 
 "About thirty thousand," was the reply. 
 
 "And the people seem to be as busily engaged in the every- 
 day affairs of life," he said, "as though a few hours more 
 would not find them again at the bottom of the sea. I 
 should think that, with the knowledge of the fate which cer- 
 tainly awaits them, these few short hours would be spent in 
 weeping and bewailing their lot, and in beseeching the 
 mercy of the Most High." 
 
 "I have thought of that myself," said Sara, "and then 
 memory would carry me back to the time when children 
 were born and men died, and when the certainty of the 
 grave was before them and I have wondered how they, 
 having all theiif faculties, laboring under no particular 
 curse, could have spent the short time allotted them on this 
 earth in rioting and debaucheries. I have wondered why 
 no more thought was devoted to the unknown future the 
 great eternity. You tell me that the earth has progressed 
 in wisdom and knowledge in the last four thousand years, 
 and perhaps men are not so careless now about such things. 
 Wisdom and knowledge certainly avail but little if they ex- 
 tend no further than the grave. I have known but one wise 
 man, and he was Abraham." 
 
 "I acknowledge the force of the rebuke," said Hugh, 
 
148 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " The people of this age do not, as a rule, seem to remem- 
 ber the certainty of death, or the brevity of life, any more 
 than they did in Abraham's time. They are not yet as wise 
 as he." 
 
 Just then they were interrupted by a crowd of small chil- 
 dren, who were attracted by the, to them, singular appear- 
 ance of Hugh. They all greeted Sara with the utmost 
 deference; but, child-like, they wanted a fair view of the 
 stranger. Nor were the children the only curious ones, for 
 men and women quit their employment to gaze at the 
 strangely-mated pair. 
 
 "These children," said Hugh, " certainly have committed 
 no sin. Are they, too, punished for the sins of the parents?" 
 
 "They who were not old enough to have committed sin 
 became unconscious when the fire came, and so they still 
 remain, when under the sea. They simply sleep. It is the 
 same as though they were dead and were waiting for the 
 great judgment day." 
 
 Hugh then threw amongst the children a few small silver 
 coins, for which they scrambled with loud shouts and merry 
 laughter, and those who were fortunate enough to get them 
 showed their delight by many queer antics and other demon- 
 strations of pleasure. Hugh looked on with an amused 
 smile, thinking how little difference there was in the nature 
 of children, of whatsoever age. Even older persons, at- 
 tracted by the noisy crowd, stopped to look at the curious 
 coins with many expressions of wonder. 
 
 As they continued on their way, Hugh's eyes were kept 
 busily engaged, noting every object which he passed. Just 
 before them, in the centre of the street, stood a very large 
 building, through which extended, from one end to the 
 other, an avenue for passengers, vehicles, etc. On either 
 side of this vast structure the houses had been set back, 
 making room for a yet wide street. 
 
 "This," said Sara, "is the grand market-place of Sodom. 
 Shall we walk through it, or take the street to one side ?" 
 
"SAVE us !" 149 
 
 " Let us go through, by all means," he replied; and they 
 entered the building. 
 
 Here were tables, laden with all the fruits of the earth, as 
 fresh-looking as though gathered but an hour before. There 
 were flowers upon the stands which seemed yet to have the 
 dew of the morning upon them, and their fragrance seemed 
 to fill the entire building. People seemed busy buying and 
 selling some laying in large stores, and others small. 
 
 "Are these things just as they were thirty-eight hundred 
 years ago ?" he asked. 
 
 "As you see them now," sadly responded Sara, "they 
 were then." 
 
 "Then how does it happen that these people can carry 
 away whole loads and still the stock remain un diminished ?" 
 
 "Count the apples on that plate," she replied, "and pur- 
 chase one for a small coin, and see how many will be left." 
 
 Approaching the woman who kept the stand, Hugh prof- 
 fered a small coin and took an apple, but still the same num- 
 ber remained on the plate. 
 
 "Now eat it," said Sara. 
 
 He attempted to bite it, but his teeth closed upon nothing. 
 Feeling foolish, he tried it again, with no better success. 
 This was the prototype, he thought, of the traditional apple 
 of Sodom. 
 
 * ' If all things remain as they were, and cannot be touched 
 or tasted, how is it that the water you gave me was so real, 
 and the wine, too, was the finest I ever tasted ?" 
 
 "I do not understand that, myself,*' she said. 
 
 "I am impelled to do a certain thing, and the result is 
 God's providence. A portion of this people's punishment is, 
 that they shall hunger and taste not; that they shall thirst 
 and be unable to drink. I am only more favored than the 
 rest, in that I do not try to do either. I live on and on, hun- 
 gry and thirsty, accepting all as a just chastisement for my 
 sin. You were allowed the favor of being able to drink what 
 I gave you, for you needed it. This experiment with the 
 
150 
 
 SACEIFICE. 
 
 apple, being simply to gratify curiosity, you were not per- 
 mitted to eat." 
 
 When nearing the farther extremity of the market, Hugh 
 saw on one side a group of men engaged in gaming. They 
 seemed as much interested in the "proceedings as the like 
 number of San Francisco sports, engaged in the profitable 
 and elevating game of "draw." Their game, however, 
 differed somewhat from the one so much affected by our own 
 " bloods." One would throw a bundle of sticks, and another 
 would guess, "odd or even." Gold coins were piled up and 
 staked on the issue, and one would have thought, sometimes, 
 the life of the player depended on his success. Hugh began 
 to wonder at this; but remembering the rebuke Sara's words 
 had just given him, as she compared the practices of these 
 people to those who lived and breathed upon the earth's 
 surface, he said nothing. But he seemed to appreciate more 
 and more the utter folly of bartering one's eternity for the 
 glittering wealth which cannot be carried beyond the grave. 
 
 "How stands the property interest at each rising ?" inquired 
 Hugh of his companion. 
 
 "It stands just as it did when the city sank. Nothing is 
 lost nothing is wasted. Each one follows the occupation he 
 did thirty-eight hundred years ago. The King gathers his 
 tribute and pays it to his officers and soldiers, who in turn 
 gamble it away, or spend it in some other manner." 
 
 " Could I touch these people feel that they are flesh and 
 blood, or would they vanish at the effort like the apple ?" 
 
 "I do not know about the others, but you can feel me, 
 can you not?" she replied, with a smile. "I am one of 
 them." 
 
 "Yes," he replied; "your hand feels as warm and your 
 pulse beats as high as those of any mortal I ever saw." 
 
 All this time they were hurrying along through the market 
 place; but Hugh, looking back, saw that a crowd had gathered 
 around to examine the coin which he had left for the apple, 
 and he made some remark concerning this to Sara. 
 
 "That," she said, "may be to them a something real 
 
11 SAVE US !" 151 
 
 something which they can handle and carry about with them. 
 The curse is not attached to that." 
 
 " I am not so certain," said Hugh, " that the curse of God 
 is not attached to all money." 
 
 " Unless applied to some good purpose," added Sara. 
 
 As they walked along they could observe wickedness, with- 
 out any attempt at concealment, and Hugh said to Sara : 
 
 "Has there never been any repentance among these poor 
 creatures for their sins ?" 
 
 " Repentance, " repeated Sara; " yes, there has been repen- 
 tance, deep and heartfelt; but they must continue on in these 
 sins, hating them as they do from the depths of their souls, 
 as a part of their punishment." 
 
 Occasionally a rabble would collect around them, and the 
 cry of " a stranger, a stranger !" be raised, and the demand 
 that he be delivered over to them; but one wave from Sara's 
 hand would quiet all. Her purity and beauty had seemingly 
 made her the queen, to whom all bowed in humble submis- 
 sion. 
 
 Sara led him on unmolested till they had reached a public 
 square, in which was the King drilling his soldiers. At the 
 sight of Hugh ho stopped short, and then came to meet 
 them. 
 
 " What stranger bringest thou, Sara, to our presence?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "O great King!" said she, making a lowly obeisance, 
 "this is a stranger thrown by accident into our city. We 
 have great service to ask of some one, and he is inclined to 
 serve us." 
 
 * ' Thou hast told us, O Sara, what the angel of the Lord 
 said unto thee, and we have waited long for its fulfilment. 
 What becamest of the other stranger thou didst bring into 
 our presence ?" 
 
 " O great King! He did fall down and worship even me, 
 thy handmaiden, and that human love left no room in his 
 heart for the divine charity, which would have saved us, and 
 have won him an immortal crown. His poor, weak soul 
 
152 SACRIFICE. 
 
 shrunk back affrighted, as I pictured to him the awful sacri- 
 fice by which we were to be redeemed, and he returned 
 whence he came. O King! we have sinned, and not yet is 
 our atonement complete. Still must we suffer." 
 
 "But Sara," said the King, with somewhat of impatience 
 in his tone, " why dost thou so often disturb our pleasures by 
 reminding us of the terrible future ? Why not let us enjoy 
 life while we can ?" 
 
 Hugh thought this sentiment quite a familiar one. 
 
 Turning to him, the King said: "From whence comest 
 thou?" 
 
 "I came," answered Hugh, "from a newly-found land. 
 It was discovered many hundred years after your city sank 
 under these dark waters." 
 
 " Then only the cities round about us here were scathed 
 by those frightful flames; and there is another land, new and 
 beautiful, like Sodom was ? I have told Sara as much." 
 
 "A small territory only was destroyed by the fire," said 
 Hugh. "In the other portions of the world, the people have 
 continued in the same old routine of marrying and giving in 
 marriage of increasing and replenishing tl^e earth." 
 
 " But," eagerly questioned the King, " can they die?" 
 
 "Yes, they die," replied Hugh. "And with them the 
 great struggle is to live." 
 
 "The fools! the fools!" exclaimed the King. 
 
 "But tell me, dost know what became of mine old 
 neighbor, Abraham ? And mine enemies, the Elamites ?" - 
 
 " The Elamites," returned Hugh, " are no more; but the 
 seed of Abraham filleth the earth." 
 
 " The God of Abraham is indeed a just God. He re- 
 wardeth the good and chastiseth us, the wicked ones." 
 
 At his request, Hugh gave him a glance at the history of 
 the world since the desolation of Sodom. He told him of 
 the invention of steam, of the printing press, of the tele- 
 graph, and of other discoveries which have had such a 
 wonderful effect on civilization. 
 
 "Then," said the King, "they are getting too wise and 
 
" SAVE us!" 153 
 
 too rich. Sodom had advanced in learning beyond all the 
 other cities, and she was the richest and most prosperous of 
 them all. Biches and knowledge are like fire and water 
 good when used as servants, but destructive when they be- 
 come the masters." 
 
 The King then dispersed his troops, and turning to Hugh 
 and Sara, he said: 
 
 "Thou shalt banquet with us. Come, let us eat, drink 
 and be merry, for the time we have is short." 
 
 They accompanied the King to the palace, and there they 
 were shown into a large banqueting hall. The tables were 
 spread with fine linen, white as snow, and all the vessels 
 were of gold or silver. There were the finest fruits in pro- 
 fusion, wines, and everything which the ingenuity of man 
 could desire to titillate the epicurean palate. Numerous at- 
 tendants were in waiting, who, dextrously in appearance, 
 supplied every want. Hugh himself was beginning to feel 
 the cravings of an unsatisfied appetite, and thought that he 
 could relish a meal, even with the Sodomites that is, if the 
 good things before him did not vanish when he attempted to 
 partake of them, as did the apple. 
 
 The King had taken his place on the dais at the upper end 
 of the dining hall. Here, with Hugh and Sara on his right, 
 he gave the signal for the banquet to proceed. 
 
 "First," he said, "let us pledge, in some of our old 
 friend Abraham's vintage, the health of the stranger." Then, 
 raising his goblet, which had been filled by the obsequious 
 attendant, to his lips, he seemed to drink, as did all the 
 assembled company. Hugh bowed in response to the toast, 
 and attempted to drink. The wine seemingly flowed into 
 his mouth, but there was neither taste nor substance to it. 
 He looked, curiously, into his cup, and, in appearance, it 
 was filled with the richest of golden wines. He turned it 
 bottom upwards, and the liquid poured out upon the floor- 
 The watchful attendant replenished his cup, and again he 
 essayed to drink, but with no better success than at first. 
 Then he turned his attention to the more substantial appear- 
 
154 SACEIFICE. 
 
 ing viands before him ; but they, too, like earthly pleasures, 
 were but shadows, mocking his desire with the appearance 
 of reality. Sara and the King had watched his efforts with 
 intense interest, and the latter now spoke : 
 
 "O stranger! Dost now know what it is to hunger and 
 thirst with all that is delicious and enjoyable within thy 
 reach and never be sated ?" 
 
 The company appeared to be in the most exuberant 
 spirits, and soon the revelry ran high . At the command of 
 the King, a hundred beautiful young women were brought 
 out to sing and dance for their amusement. Sara's face was 
 overshadowed by sadness and her eyes were cast modestly 
 upon the ground, for the performances were lewd in the 
 extreme. 
 
 "Poor creatures," she said aside to Hugh. "They can- 
 not help what they do. Every year, since the curse came 
 upon us, have they gone through all this. They know its 
 sinfulness, and remorse is tugging at their heartstrings, yet 
 must they go on. It was once their pleasure, now it is their 
 punishment. We have no longer any free agency. An in- 
 visible power directs our motions, and we must all do as we 
 did before that awful day. The entrance of a stranger is the 
 only thing that breaks the monotony of each succeeding 
 year, and that has happened but once before." 
 
 " And that once I have heard of, before I came here," said 
 Hugh. " It was one cause of my coming." 
 
 " Then, after all, his coming was not in vain," said Sara, 
 confidently. 
 
 "That remains yet to be seen," replied Hugh. "But 
 would you like to know his fate ?" 
 
 " Oh, tell me! Did anything befall him on account of his 
 visit here ?" 
 
 " No, I think not. He was attacked by a band of robbers 
 and mortally wounded. In his last moments he told of his 
 visit to Sodom; but all who heard him thought it simply the 
 ravings of delirium. He died, and his body was sent to his 
 own country." 
 
"SAVE us!" 
 
 ' ' And his soul, " said Sara, ' ' may Heaven pity its weak- 
 nesses, and give it eternal rest!" 
 
 At this moment a low, rumbling sound was heard, a& 
 though of distant thunder. Instantly each reveller ceased 
 his gayety, and, starting to his feet, remained as though 
 transfixed with terror. Motionless and breathless as statues 
 stood that assemblage; but oh, the fear, the horror, the 
 dread which was depicted in each face was terrible to be- 
 hold. Hugh looked at Sara. She stood white and rigid as 
 marble. Her heart had seemingly ceased its pulsations. 
 Her arms hung listlessly by her side, and her eyes, upturned 
 toward heaven, seemed fixed in their sockets, while upon 
 her fair brow stood the cold, clammy dew of agony. He 
 would have spoken to her, but he saw that she was engaged 
 in a prayer, deep and holy, though the pale lips were silent 
 as the dead. He turned and looked out upon the street, and 
 the scene there seemed but a reflex of the one within. It 
 was an awful, a sublime silence. It was the eleventh hour. 
 This horrible stillness was becoming unbearable to him, and 
 raising his hands aloft, he poured forth a prayer, beseech- 
 ing the Almighty, in eloquent and fervent tones, to spare 
 that people. "And, O God!" he added, "if it so pleases 
 Thee, lay this yoke upon me. I offer myself to Thee, O 
 Lord, that I may suffer in their stead. Purify me, that I 
 may become a pleasing sacrifice in thy sight !" 
 
 And then, full of the overwhelming terror of the situation,, 
 and feeling the awful import of his prayer, he dropped his 
 chin upon his bosom and became as motionless as the rest. 
 Again came that dread, rumbling sound, this time a little 
 nearer and half an hour was gone. At tfyis Sara rallied. 
 
 "O God!" she exclaimed, "you here yet! Fly! fly for 
 your life for your soul's salvation, and for ours fly ! Come, 
 I will lead you to the gate!" 
 
 Then the King and all the people in the room knelt in 
 supplication to him, exclaiming, in tones which pierced his 
 heart to its centre, "Save us save us! O stranger! save 
 us!" 
 
156 SACRIFICE. 
 
 Sara took him by the hand and they rushed into the 
 street. All followed. Then the people in the street crowded 
 around them. They had all heard of the angel's words to 
 Sara, and now they seemed to be seized with the idea that 
 this was the promised Messenger. He raised his voice and 
 spoke to them, and its clarion tones seemed to penetrate to 
 every corner of the city, making itself heard by all. He told 
 them how all mankind had been redeemed from sin and 
 death by the precious blood of the Son of God, and that all 
 who had faith in Him might live forever. And he promised 
 them, if it so pleased the Omnipotent One, he would return 
 in a year and set their souls free. He had spoken earnestly 
 and fast for full ten minutes, when Sara exclaimed : 
 
 "We have scarcely time to reach the gate. Open a way, 
 people, and let us pass through !" 
 
 But the people only pressed more closely on them, and 
 wildly exclaimed: "Save us! Oh, save us!" It was impos- 
 sible to force a passage through the excited mob, and thus 
 Hugh stood powerless to help himself, when with a loud 
 crash came the last warning sound and slowly the city 
 began to sink. Loud wailings rent the air. Sara still 
 struggled on in the vain effort to reach the gate with Hugh. 
 Now the cruel waters crept stealthily in to claim their prey, 
 and louder and wilder grew the lamentations of this unhappy 
 people. 
 
 "O my God!" exclaimed Sara, "I am afraid he cannot 
 get out. He will go down with us, and all through my 
 fault through my fault, through my most grievous fault ! " 
 
 The waters were by this time beginning to lift Hugh from 
 his feet; but the rest went down, down, slowly down.j 
 
 " Can you swim ?" asked Sara, as the waters were gradu- 
 ally sweeping over her. " For God's sake try and make the 
 shore; it is not far off. God bless ," and here her fair 
 , golden hair went under, and Hugh floated alone on the sur- 
 face of the dead, silent lake. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A SINGLE HAIR. 
 
 |N account of the extraordinary severity of the winds 
 upon the sea, Father Dominic was exceedingly uneasy 
 about the safety of his guest. He was not alone in 
 this anxiety, for in the twp short months in which 
 Hugh had sojourned with them, his many noble and 
 generous qualities had endeared him to all hearts, and that 
 night many were the Paters and Aves which went up, in his 
 behalf, from within the gray convent walls. Nor was this 
 all, for Father Dominic begged and obtained permission to 
 go down to the sea-shore, taking with him several of the 
 monks, and, if possible, cross over and search for their 
 friend. Accordingly, long before daybreak, they were on 
 their way, across ravine and cliff, in the direction of Ain 
 Jidy. They were all fast walkers, even the aged Dominic, 
 and by sunrise they had reached the western shore of the 
 sea. Hugh's Arabs had not returned to the camp; but the 
 large boat was still there, having sustained but very slight 
 damage from the storm. The morning was clear and almost 
 a calm, and, for that place, tolerably pleasant. A few 
 moments sufficed to repair the boat, when four of the 
 Fathers, taking the oars, while Father Dominic sat in the 
 stern to direct their course, bent themselves with a hearty 
 good-will to the work of rowing the boat across the sea. It 
 is not over six miles from Ain Jidy across to Point Costigan, 
 and, as Hugh had told Father Dominic of his intention of 
 visiting that desolate promontory, the boat's head was turned 
 immediately in that direction. Frequently would the old 
 monk, raising his field-glass to his eyes, anxiously survey 
 the opposite shore, to see if he could discover some sign of 
 our hero. But each time was the glass dropped with a sigh, 
 and each time was a more fervent prayer murmured for the 
 
158 SACRIFICE. 
 
 safety of his young friend. When within a couple of miles 
 of the eastern side he could discern the small boat high and 
 dry upon the sands, and , as they glided rapidly along, he 
 soon saw the figure of a man walking near by it. 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" exclaimed the good old monk. " He is 
 safe, for I see him walking on the shore." 
 
 As they approached nearer, however, he remarked that 
 this person was smaller in stature than he whom they were 
 seeking. Gazing more intently on the scene, he said : 
 
 ' ' The man walks up to some one lying on the ground, and 
 raises his head. That person must be our friend. Bend to 
 your oars, my brothers, and strike quickly," he exclaimed, 
 excitedly; " for a moment lost now may be his life." 
 
 The oarsmen threw all their strength into their work, and 
 although the ' ' Victoria " was never calculated to be rowed by 
 less than eight men, yet under the energetic strokes of the 
 four willing monks, she sped over the waters like a bird, 
 and in a few minutes more the staunch little craft had 
 touched the shore. Father Dominic hurriedly landed, and, 
 followed by his brother monks, rushed excitedly up to the 
 .spot where, as his anxious misgivings had truly told him } 
 lay the prostrate form of Hugh Ashby. The other was 
 Isaac, the Jew. 
 
 "Js he dead?" anxiously inquired the monk of Isaac. 
 
 " I dinks not," returned the Jew, "but dere is no pulse. 
 I pours some vine in his mouth, but he no svallow him." 
 
 Water was brought from the boat, and after washing off 
 the incrustations of salt from his person, they bathed his 
 head and breast with spirits, which the forethought of the 
 energetic Dominic had brought along, and rubbed him 
 briskly with their hands. 
 
 "He lives!" exclaimed the old monk, as, holding Hugh's 
 wrist in his fingers, he detected a faint beating of the pulse. 
 
 " He bees all right now very soon," said Isaac. " He von 
 .strong mans." 
 
 They soon had the satisfaction of seeing him .breathe once 
 
A SINGLE HAIR. 159 
 
 more, and, on being raised to a sitting posture, he looked 
 around and recognized each one. x 
 
 " How came you all here ?" were his first words. 
 
 "That we will tell you after a while," said Father 
 Dominic, "but now you must take some nourishment, to 
 strengthen you enough to be carried home." Hugh looked 
 strangely around, and glancing downward, he saw that he 
 was in his stocking feet, and that near by lay his boots. 
 
 ' ' I thought I had left my boots there, " he said, with a 
 puzzled look, "and that when I floated out I still had on the 
 sandals which she put on my feet." And his eyes wandered 
 around until they fell upon some silver coin lying on the 
 ground beside him. 
 
 " Whose money is that?" he asked. 
 
 "It belongs to Meester Ashby," replied Isaac. 
 
 "That cannot be," returned Hugh, "for I threw all the 
 silver coins I had in my pockets to the children of the city." 
 
 "Poor man!" said Father Dominic; "his mind wanders. 
 Take him up gently and carry him to the * Victoria.' We 
 will have to take the small boat in tow across the sea, and 
 thence up to the Wady-en-Nar. There we will contrive 
 some kind of a litter and carry him home." 
 
 With careful hands they lifted him into the boat, and, as 
 by this time a fair breeze had sprung up, they prepared to 
 set sail. Isaac did not accept their invitation to accompany 
 them, but alleged, as an excuse, that he had business on this 
 side of the sea. As he was about to depart in another direc- 
 tion, Hugh, rising feebly up, said to him : 
 
 "Isaac, you must be my guardian angel, for you always 
 appear when I sorely need your help. I hope we shall soon 
 meet again. " And he extended his hand, which the old Jew 
 grasped warmly, and, pressing his white-bearded lips upon 
 it, exclaimed, with seeming emotion: 
 
 "Yes, Meester Ashby, ve shall meet again." Then, 
 abruptly dropping the hand, he turned away and bent his 
 steps in the direction of the interior. 
 
 "A queer old Jew, that," remarked Father Dominic, as 
 
160 SACRIFICE. 
 
 the * 'Victoria " began to move over the dark, heavy waters. 
 "I am now an old man; and when I was young, he was old 
 Isaac then and he is old Isaac yet, with no change what- 
 ever in his appearance. Sometimes he remains around here 
 for months, and then again he is off to other countries. He 
 has traveled much, and his mind is stored with a fund of 
 information concerning what is going on in the world, and 
 he has a good heart, withal." 
 
 " Yes," said Hugh, rather abstractedly, "I have found all 
 that out. We had some adventures together at Hillah 
 which gives him a prominent place in my memory. I will 
 think of him as long as body and soul hangs together and 
 perhaps longer. Who knows but we may be good friends in 
 the other world." 
 
 Hugh then laid his head wearily back into Father 
 Dominic's lap, closed his eyes, and was lost in reflection, 
 and so remained in that semi-unconscious state which 
 brings so vividly before the imagination the scenes of the 
 past. The panorama of his whole life was stretched before 
 his mental vision as vividly as though conjured by the arts 
 of some magician. Pictured before him he saw even the 
 child in the cradle, with his mother, a noble, lovely woman 
 long since dead, leaning over him, and praying from the 
 depths of her maternal heart that his infant feet might tread 
 in the paths of righteousness. And Miriam Howard ? He 
 saw her as, when lifting her out of the mud on the way to 
 school, she looked up into his face, with a loving confidence 
 in her deep, gray eyes. Then he beheld her as when, devel- 
 oped into a beautiful womanhood, the delicate, rosy flush 
 and downcast look w^en his eyes met hers, revealed the yet 
 unspoken love; and later still, as she stood beside him 
 within the arbor, with the roses showering their fragrant 
 petals down upon them, and pledged her heart and hand to 
 him forever. These reminiscences were accompanied with 
 feelings of mingled pleasure and anguish pleasure, because 
 of themselves; anguish, because of the terrible future which 
 loomed up before him. Must she, too, be made an innocent 
 
A SINGLE HAlil. 161 
 
 victim in this sacrifice ? Must her young life, with its happy 
 future spread out before it, be suddenly blasted, and all on 
 account of him? He groaned aloud in mental agony; and 
 Father Dominic, thinking him in physical pain, wet his head 
 with a handkerchief dipped in the fresh water which they 
 carried with them and stroked back his hair as affectionately 
 as he would have done for a child. 
 
 "My poor boy has this time ventured beyond his 
 strength," he said. 
 
 As the oarsmen stopped for a breathing spell, the old 
 monk remarked : 
 
 ' ' I am getting fanciful in my old age, for do you know 
 that sometimes as I glide over these waters I imagine that I 
 ca'n almost see the fearful writhings of the God-cursed peo- 
 ple who were buried ! " 
 
 Father Dominic had thought Hugh inattentive to what 
 was passing around; but at this remark he sprang up and 
 excitedly exclaimed: 
 
 " Where ? Where do you see them?" 
 
 "In my imagination, my son," answered the monk, 
 " nowhere else." 
 
 Hugh looked as though ashamed of his excitement, and 
 resumed his former attitude. When they had reached the 
 western shore at Ain Jidy it was past noon, and as the good 
 monks had scarcely broken their fast in the morning, they 
 went ashore and began to prepare a repast, of which they all 
 sorely felt the need. 
 
 While the meal was being prepared, and it was by no 
 means elaborate, Hugh lay upon some blankets which had 
 been spread out under the shadow of a rock for him. He 
 was entirely conscious of all that was going on around him; 
 but talking was a burden, so he remained quiet. He drank 
 the strong black coffee which had been prepared for him 
 and felt much revived. By this time the breeze had changed 
 to the south, and, re-entering the boat, they made sail, and 
 very soon landed at the Wady-en-Nar. Here they experi- 
 enced the kind forethought of the Superior, who had sent 
 
 an Arab with Hugh's horse to meet them. Two camels were 
 11 
 
162 SACRIFICE. 
 
 also here, belonging to the convent. These last were on 
 their return, laden with provisions from up the river Jordan. 
 
 "I think," said Father Dominic to Hugh, "that you and 
 I had better take one of these animals and ride home. You 
 are still too weak, I fear, to maintain your seat upon the 
 horse over the rough road up the ravine." 
 
 Hugh, however, preferred to try his horse, and the others, 
 removing a portion of the load from the camels, mounted 
 them and started for the convent. It was a great effort for 
 Hugh to keep his seat, but he did so till the end of his jour- 
 ney, when he was assisted to his room. 
 
 Notwithstanding the tender care with which he was 
 nursed, and the consummate medical skill of the monk 
 Dominic, it was several weeks before Hugh had recovered 
 his former strength. In the meantime a letter had come to 
 him from Miriam Howard, giving him all the California 
 news, and also bearing, testimony of her great love for him. 
 As he would read it and he read it many times over a 
 strong impulse would seize him to fly to her side, and leave 
 forever that accursed country. But then the cries of " Save 
 us ! oh, stranger, save us !" rang perpetually in his ears, and 
 ho could not forget his promise to that doomed people. He 
 would tell all to Father Dominic, and seek the help of his 
 wiser judgment. So, at the first opportunity, the whole 
 story was related, including his adventures in the ruins of 
 Babylon. 
 
 " There are strange coincidences," remarked the old man, 
 "in the lives of many of us, and things will happen which 
 will puzzle the strongest intellect at the time, but for which 
 time will present the clearest solution. The Christian, my 
 son, has but to remember the words of St. John : ' Let not 
 your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid : ye believe 
 in God believe also in me.' Think well on these words, 
 and you will find much consolation." 
 
 "Nothing supernatural even for a moment entered my 
 mind," said Hugh, "until the last night in Sodom. But 
 there is a mystery which I cannot elucidate." 
 
 "It is very evident to me that you had a fearful dream, 
 
A SINGLE HAIR. 163 
 
 caused by your exhausted condition, and the expectation of 
 seeing that city reflected by the phosphorescent light. You 
 say that the woman Sara took off your boots, and put sandals 
 on your feet instead, and that you threw all the silver coins 
 in your pockets to the children of the city, except the one 
 with which you purchased the apple. Now, my son, when 
 we found you, your boots were near you, and the coins to the 
 exact amount which you say you had in your pocket lay 
 scattered all around you. If you had the sandals on your 
 feet, and if your money had been missing, then there might 
 have been something about which to be uneasy something 
 which could not be accounted for in the natural order. It is 
 a fact, however, that men sometimes have visions, from the 
 effects of which it often takes them long years to recover. 
 The mere fact of your trying to eat and drink, without being 
 able to do either, is the very strongest evidence of a dream. 
 That, you know, is one of the characteristics of visions." 
 
 "I have," said Hugh, " two evidences of the reality of what 
 I saw. One is, that I know my feet were terribly blistered 
 and lacerated, when I reached the point, and when you came 
 to me there were but few marks left." 
 
 "That I can account for," said the father, interrupting 
 him. " Many of the springs around the sea here, while hav- 
 ing a most offensive odor, have almost a miraculously healing 
 power. Some of the pools in which you stood must have 
 contained such water, I am sure." 
 
 " The other, continued Hugh, "is not so easily accounted 
 for. When Sara removed my boots and stockings and oiled 
 my feet, she wiped them with her hair, and then replaced 
 the stockings before binding on the sandals. Now, I found in 
 one of them a single golden hair, about two feet long, and 
 here it is." And unfolding a tiny paper, which he had taken 
 from his breast-pocket, he drew forth a single strand of hair, 
 which, as suspended from his outstretched fingers, and curl- 
 ing and twisting in the sunshiny air, looked like a thread of 
 spun gold. Mysterious hair! Whence came it? Was it in- 
 deed a link connecting the supernatural with the real the 
 
164 SAOKIFICE. 
 
 far distant past with the present ? Thus questioning himself, 
 Father Dominic took it into his hands to examine. 
 
 "We have had no women around us of late," continued 
 Hugh. "Oar washing even has not been done by them; and 
 besides, I think, Father, that it would be a difficult thing, 
 if not an impossibility, to find a golden-haired woman in 
 these parts; and, besides, it is exactly of the color which my 
 vision, if you are still pleased to call it, gave to Sara's hair.'' 
 "I will not pretend to account for it now," said the Father, 
 "but, as I have before remarked, sometimes things which 
 perplex us much for a while become simple, seen by the light 
 of some undeveloped fact." 
 
 "I have an intuition," said Hugh, "that I am following a 
 destiny marked out for me by a higher power, and all I have 
 to do is to be brave, and true to the dictates of the inner 
 spirit, under all circumstances remembering the words you 
 have just quoted from St. John. Whenever the temptation 
 comes urging me to fly from this place as from some danger- 
 ous plague, it immediately occurs to me that I might be 
 deserting some work of God, and that in flight I would carry 
 with me the consciousness of having forever left behind me 
 manhood, charity and religion." 
 
 "If, my son, you were certain of all this if you knew 
 that you could redeem all these people by the conditions you 
 have named would you do it ?" 
 
 After a moment's pause, Hugh answered : 
 
 " With the help of God, Father, I would." And the look 
 of holy resolution which overspread his finely-formed features 
 could have sprung from no other than a divine inspiration. 
 
 The good monk looked upon his young friend with an ad- 
 miration blended with awe, and then throwing his arms 
 about his neck, sobbed and wept like a child. 
 
 "God, my son, will give thee wisdom to act. If, in follow- 
 ing' 4 His inspiration, anything should befall thee, then will thy 
 old friend spend the remainder of his days on his knees pray- 
 ing to the God of Justice and Mercy that thy sufferings may 
 not be for long, so that when he is called hence, thoumayest 
 greet him, wearing the crown of victory." 
 
CHAPTER XIX, 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 CAVING duly made up their minds for a tour through 
 the Old World, the Howards lost no time in making 
 preparations for it. Once more we find them at the 
 breakfast table. Mrs. Howard, after the old style, 
 puts the cream and sugar in the coffee, and, as it is 
 being passed around, Mr. Howard remarks : 
 
 " Well, I suppose this is our last quiet breakfast at home. 
 I have gotten all my business matters in order and will be 
 ready to start to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Miriam and I are ready, too," said Mrs. Howard; "our 
 trunks are packed and our last calls made." 
 
 "Henry is ready, of course," remarked his father, "as he 
 told me a week ago that he had all his business properly 
 arranged." 
 
 " I am afraid," said the individual thus spoken of, " that 
 I shall not be ready at that time." 
 
 " Not be ready!" echoed the three in one voice. 
 
 " That is just what I said." 
 
 ' 'And pray why not ?" said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Well, those confounded dressmakers can't be hurried 
 up a bit." 
 
 "Dressmakers!" again echoed the three. 
 
 "Yes, dressmakers!" 
 
 Then the three glanced at Henry and at each other, and a 
 merry twinkle appeared in each eye, as they thought they 
 could guess something. 
 
 "Explain," said the mother. 
 
 "Well," said Henry, "I thought it would be a great 
 piece of folly for us four green ones, who have scarcely ever 
 been out of Santa Clara county, to undertake to make such 
 a trip as the one we propose, without some more experienced 
 
166 SACRIFICE. 
 
 person along; and I therefore set about finding a suitable 
 one to act as guide, and, after much difficulty, I have 
 secured the services of one whom I know you will all like 
 one who has just been over the ground." 
 
 " Agnes Bonham!" exclaimed Miriam. " Oh, Henry! you 
 naughty boy! I have a notion to box your ears! And I was 
 over there just last evening, telling her good-by, and kissing 
 and crying and all that sort of female nonsense, and she 
 never hinted that she was going along as one of the 
 Howards!" 
 
 "Yes, I was there," said Henry, . in a teasing tone. 
 ' ' When you cried, she cried also, out of sympathy, and 
 then I had an awful time of it kissing the tears away." 
 
 " Yes, it were very much against the grain, I know," said 
 Miriam. " But I will get even with you two, yet; see if I 
 don't." 
 
 "How does it happen," asked the elder Howard, rather 
 severely, "that after this family has grown up, each relying 
 on the advice and the pleasure of the others, in all the im- 
 portant matters, with no secrets from the other, that so 
 grave a step is taken without ever asking your mother and 
 me ? It was not thus that Miriam did. She told both of 
 us, and even you, Mr. Henry, that she thought she loved 
 Hugh Ashby, even before he had asked her to be his wife. 
 She talked as freely about the whole matter, in fact, as she 
 could have done with a companion of her own age and sex/' 
 
 "Oh, papa!" exclaimed Miriam, "don't scold brother 
 Henry, for he has captured the best girl in the world." 
 
 "I should not," said Henry, seeing that his father really 
 felt hurt, "have taken such a step without the usual family 
 consultation, if I had proposed to marry any other young 
 lady than Miss Bonham; but she has been discussed at this 
 table ever since she was a child, and the universal verdict 
 has been that she was unexceptionable in every particular, 
 and as you all loved her I could not help it." 
 
 " Oh, don't make any excuse for loving Agnes!" exclaimed 
 Miriam. "It is perfectly splendid! Sister Agnes! That 
 
THE VOYAGE. 167 
 
 sounds good. But I am going right straight over there to 
 pull her hair, and hug her, and scold her, and kiss her! 
 Then," she continued, turning to her father, " brother 
 Henry wanted to give us such a nice surprise about our 
 guide. Oh, I am delighted." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Howard, " I will forgive him this time, 
 so long as it is Agnes, because I always loved the mischiev- 
 ous, rattled-brained little minx myself. She will give life 
 to the whole party. But when do your dressmakers propose 
 that you shall be ready ?" 
 
 "They crave only one more day. All things will be 
 ready to-morrow, and in the evening we propose to have a 
 quiet little wedding, and be off on the early train the next 
 morning." 
 
 The quiet wedding took place, with but few friends 
 present, and next morning as happy a party as ever left the 
 State of California bid their numerous friends adieu at the 
 depot, and the great overland train hurried them forward. 
 
 " Our party is not exactly as it should be," said Agnes: 
 "but we will try to have it so before we come back. The 
 fact of the business is, we have too many Howards. One 
 less would make us all happy, wouldn't it Miriam ? Let's see 
 where are we apt to have a wedding ? Somewhere in the 
 Turkish Empire, I guess. A Turkish wedding ! Kecorded 
 in the Mohammedan temple! Won't that be romantic, 
 though ?" 
 
 " One more would complete our party, and make me the 
 happiest old sinner alive," said Mr. Howard. " But Mr. 
 Ashby is all the same as a Howard. I have loved him as a 
 son for many years." 
 
 " No." maintained Agnes; " four Howards are all we can 
 stand. I had a notion to refuse to become one until we 
 could at the same time dispose of one. If I could have gone 
 along without old Madam Grundy poking her nose into the 
 affair, I would not have become one, either. But mamma 
 has such a dread of that old gossip that it is a wonder she 
 is alive." 
 
168 SACRIFICE. 
 
 It is not our intention to follow this party in their travels, 
 nor chronicle the many pleasing incidents that occurred. 
 Agnes was all life and gayety, and they all wondered how it 
 would have been possible to have gotten along without her. 
 She insisted all the time, that, by reason of her larger 
 experience in travel, she should direct their movements ; and 
 one thing she said she knew, and would insist upon, was 
 that they must go to the farther end of the route, and do 
 the sight-seeing on the return. 
 
 In due course of time they arrived in New York and then 
 at Liverpool. "Here," said Agnes, "we must take a 
 steamer for the Mediterranean ports, as soon as possible . 
 Only think ! Suppose Russia and Turkey should come to 
 actual blows ! The whole Turkish Empire would then be in 
 a state of siege, and we should be deprived of the most 
 pleasant part of our journey. If we go across the continent 
 we shall be sure to meet with detention." 
 
 "fsuppose," said the elder Howard, "that we will have 
 to follow your direction. When I employ a doctor I take 
 his medicine." 
 
 Accordingly, when they found that the steamer " Sardinia" 
 was to sail on the morrow for Cairo direct, they congratu- 
 lated themselves on their good luck and took passage. This 
 gave them a view of Lisbon, at which they landed; of the 
 heights of Gibraltar, at which the vessel stopped to leave 
 some stores^for the garrison, and of several Mediterranean 
 seaports. Besides this, the coast was often in sight, and the 
 party spent much time on deck, viewing with their glasses 
 the coast line. The voyage had been one of the most pleas- 
 ant the officers said they had ever made, until, when in the 
 Grecian Archipelago, they entered a dense fog. Slowly the 
 vessel, under command of skilful officers, felt her way along 
 Our party came out on deck, where the air was fresh, though 
 they could not see beyond the bulwarks of the vessel. 
 
 "Where do you think we are now ?" Henry asked of the 
 Captain, who was on watch himself. 
 
 " We are about abreast of Athens." 
 
THE VOYAGE. 169 
 
 "There are plenty of rocks hereabout, are there not?" 
 
 "Yes, there are some; but I think there is no danger 
 unless we are drifting more than I think. We have but very 
 little steam on just enough to manage her, and we have 
 trusty look-outs at every quarter, and besides, Mr. Howard, 
 we have boats enough to carry every person on board; so I 
 think there is not the least possible danger. 
 
 Miriam turned her head in the direction of the forecastle 
 and grasped Agnes' arm convulsively. " Look !" she whis- 
 pered; " quick!" pointing at the same time toward the bow. 
 
 Agnes looked, but saw nothing, and she asked Miriam 
 what it was which caused her so much agitation. 
 
 " My old Jew peddler, as sure as I am here. He went 
 down the forward hatch; I will find him presently." 
 
 " I hope,' 7 said Agnes, " that he is not a bird of ill-omen. 
 To tell you the truth, I have not been exactly easy for the 
 last several days. I have had a heavy feeling so unusual to 
 me; a sort of presentiment, as it were, of impending danger. 
 But nonsense ! " she exclaimed, as she saw a cloud pass over 
 Miriam's face; and she felt ashamed of her weakness, in 
 giving vent to such feelings, and putting her arm around 
 Miriam's waist, she continued : ' ' Excuse me, dear sister, if I 
 unthinkingly add to your distress, but you know I always 
 talk as I feel, and I suppose no one is entirely free from 
 spells of depression." 
 
 "I am not afraid of present danger," replied Miriam. 
 " Whatever forebodings are presented to my mind are con- 
 nected with Hugh and my peddler in the forecastle yonder. 
 Another link in the chain may be in process of forging, but 
 it will be only a link. The end is not yet. The presence of 
 that old Jew here, however, puzzles me; but I am content to 
 follow the hand of Destiny, wherever it may lead. I fear 
 nothing. Death itself has no terror for me, and the only 
 unhappiness I have arises from the possibility of those I 
 love having their happiness wrecked because connected with 
 me." 
 
170 SACBIFICE. 
 
 Scarcely had she finished speaking, when the vessel struck 
 heavily upon a rock. It was a fearful crash, and all on 
 board became conscious of the fact that the ship had been 
 destroyed. Following the crash came confusion, shrieks 
 and lamentations, mingled with the hurried commands of 
 the officers, who realized the necessity of the greatest possi- 
 ble dispatch in getting the passengers into the boats. Miriam 
 was unceremoniously thrust into a boat, under charge of the 
 first mate, to make up a load . This was the first boat to 
 leave the wreck, and they had not gone far when they saw 
 her give a lurch and go down. 
 
 " Not another boat was able to get away!" exclaimed the 
 mate, " and they are all lost!" 
 
 Miriam's anguish was intense as she heard this, and gladly 
 would she have given up her own life to have rescued her 
 family. While each of the passengers and crew of this boat 
 were straining their eyes to see if they could detect through 
 the fog the appearance of another boat, their own struck a 
 hidden reef and was instantly dashed to pieces, and its bur- 
 den of living freight cast upon the bosom of the ocean. 
 Miriam floated for a time upon the water, felt a drowning 
 sensation, and became unconscious. 
 
 Two other boats, however, had been successfully launched, 
 and all the balance of our party were in the boat under the 
 direct charge of the captain. These boats followed in the 
 direction of the others, but missed the reef. They, however, 
 came across the fragments of the mate's boat, and picked up 
 all its passengers, the mate said, except Miriam and another. 
 Notwithstanding the fact that these boats were now greatly 
 overloaded, the captain ordered them to row around as long 
 as a bare possibility of rescuing Miriam remained. It was a 
 fruitless search, and as the boats pulled off in the direction 
 of Athens, which was supposed to be the nearest port, the 
 agony of each one of the Howards can be better imagined 
 than described. 
 
 All hope was lost, and they felt that they were deserting 
 her in the middle of the ocean. It was a terrible thing for 
 
THE VOYAGE. 171 
 
 them to be rowed silently away from where the loved one 
 went down. The entire boat-load was silent for some time, 
 each occupant feeling for the bereaved ones. At length 
 Agnes burst forth : 
 
 " I must speak or I will die! Captain, can you give us no 
 hope ? May there not be some possibility of her having 
 been saved ?" 
 
 "It would require a miracle," said that officer. "No 
 human power could possibly have saved her. The timbers 
 of the wreck, even, were floating the other way. We are 
 rowing against the current." 
 
 "I tell you," exclaimed Agnes, "that she has not been 
 drowned. I cannot, I will not believe it. Her old Jew was 
 on board, and he would have saved her." 
 
 "There was an old Jew," said the mate, "who was among 
 the rescued in my boat, who came on board at Palermo, and 
 who occupied a seat just behind Miss Howard." 
 
 " Saved!" exclaimed Agnes, " saved! I knew she would 
 be saved." The Captain shook his head and thought Agnes' 
 mind was wandering. Neither did Mr. Howard or Henry 
 put the least faith in Agnes' theory. She said nothing 
 more, and they rowed on in silence. The fog cleared up 
 and a beautiful sunshine seemed to bid them be of good 
 cheer, and they each thought how happy they would be if 
 only Miriam could be at their side. Without any further 
 adventure the party reached Athens, and when alone at the 
 inn, Agnes renewed her protestations of faith in the safety 
 of Miriam, but she could give no reason that would have 
 any weight whatever with either of the others. 
 
 "I tell you," she said, stamping her pretty little foot on 
 the floor, "I will not leave this part of the country until 
 every town and every nook in the archipelago and the sur- 
 rounding country has been searched until every fisherman 
 and every man that owns a boat has been put to work trying 
 to find her, by the largeness of the reward. I have a small 
 fortune, " she continued, getting more emphatic, ' ' in my own 
 
172 SACBIFICE. 
 
 right, and I will offer the last cent of it for Miriam, if it is 
 only her dead body that we find." 
 
 The bereaved family looked at Agnes with admiration. 
 They had always regarded her as a sweet, volatile, pure girl, 
 w ho could ornament society, but even her husband did not 
 expect to find in her one to take command when grave diffi- 
 culties surrounded them. 
 
 " Go," she said to Henry, "post the city over; send a boat 
 across to Smyrna; cover the rocks and the walls, offer $25,000 
 reward for her body, or for any information that will lead to 
 finding her if alive. Go, you, father, and place this sum in 
 the hands of the American Consul, to be paid by him to 
 the one who wins the reward. If you have not enough with 
 you, telegraph for more. Then let us charter one of the 
 little steamers that do a coasting trade around here and go 
 ourselves on the search." 
 
 " We will do all that Agnes has suggested," said the father. 
 " I will feel much better myself if we leave no stone unturned 
 to find her." 
 
 The small steamer was chartered and the party embarked, 
 having first offered the reward, the large amount of which 
 soon sent almost every craft out of the city on the hunt. 
 When it was known at Smyrna and other places, hundreds 
 started out, and the strictest inquiry was made everywhere. 
 The party travelled around for ten days, everywhere sending 
 out more men on the search; but at the end of that time they 
 returned with sad, heavy hearts, to Athens. The party had 
 lost their entire wardrobe, but their checks and letters of 
 credit were on their persons, and, besides, Mr. Howard had 
 had a large sum placed to his credit by telegraph. When 
 they got back to Athens, they had to stay several days to 
 have some clothing made. Then they told the Consul to 
 keep the reward standing, and to constantly put the people 
 in mind of it. 
 
 "I believe yet," said Agnes, after their return from the 
 fruitless search, " that Miriam Howard is still living." 
 
THE VOYAGE. 173 
 
 "On what grounds do you base your belief?" asked her 
 husband. 
 
 " Now don't go to cross-questioning' me like a witness on 
 the stand," she replied, " for I cannot give any sensible rea- 
 son." 
 
 "We ought to write to Mr. Ashby," said Mr. Howard; 
 1 ' but somehow I have not the heart for the task. " 
 
 "Nor have I," said Agnes; and, as the others said the 
 same thing, the writing of the letter was postponed. It was 
 now resolved to go home by the most direct routes. None 
 of them had any heart left for the pleasures of travel. The 
 news of the disaster reached their friends in California 
 almost as soon as it happened, for, in addition to private 
 telegrams, all the particulars of the wreck, together with a 
 list of the lost and the saved, had been telegraphed from 
 Athens to the San Francisco papers. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 FROM SMYRNA TO JERUSALEM. 
 
 a small apartment, by no means elegantly furnished, 
 Miriam Howard opened her eyes to consciousness. 
 The sun was shining brightly, and its rays streamed in 
 through a window beside which she lay. She looked 
 around in bewilderment. Everything in the room was 
 faultlessly clean, although plain . No one was near her, and 
 all was quiet as the grave. At first she could recall nothing, 
 but as gradually her scattered senses began to return, and 
 reason resume its sway, the scenes of the wreck flashed 
 across her mental vision. The words of the mate, declaring 
 that the ship had gone down before another boat could be 
 launched, and that all were lost, seemed, even then, to be 
 ringing in her ears, and pierced her heart through and 
 through. Then the memory of the dreadful dashing of their 
 own boat upon the rocks sent a thrill of horror through her 
 frame; but she could remember no more. No trace of any 
 rescue was in her mind. Where was she now ? The looks 
 of everything in the room denoted that she had been kindly 
 cared for. She raised herself on her elbow and looked 
 through the window; but the sight of a dirty-looking court, 
 with half a dozen indolent persons of mixed nationality 
 lounging around, was her only reward. She judged, how- 
 ever, that she was in the fourth story of a large building. 
 
 Presently a very handsome young woman, evidently of 
 Jewish parentage, entered the room, and, as she saw Miriam 
 reclining upon her elbow and looking at her, a smile of 
 pleasure came across her face, and Miriam saw that she had 
 at least fallen among friends. She spoke to the girl, both 
 in English and French, but the ominous shake of the head 
 and the puzzled look showed she was not understood. The 
 girl came up to her, kissed her, and made every demonstra- 
 
FROM SYMBNA TO JERUSALEM. 175 
 
 tion of pleasure at seeing her revived. By signs the girl 
 asked her if she wanted something to eat. She gave an 
 affirmative nod, and once more she was left to her own 
 reflections. 
 
 She was in a foreign land, among strangers, even ignorant 
 of the language they spoke, and without money. The whole 
 family, she felt convinced, had been lost by the wreck. 
 What was she to do ? Then she thought of Hugh. Could 
 she not manage in some way to make him acquainted with 
 her sore distress. No satisfactory conclusion, could be 
 arrived at; but, raising herself to a sitting position, she ex- 
 claimed half aloud : 
 
 " I am here among strangers. Difficulties will have to be 
 met and overcome; and they must be met with no faltering 
 hand." 
 
 The girl soon returned, bringing a very nice breakfast, 
 which Miriam ate with a relish; and then, feeling stronger, 
 she made a sign for the girl to bring her clothes. At this 
 her companion looked in blank despair, but brought her the 
 tattered remnants of what she had on when wrecked, and 
 those were so soiled as to be unfit for use again. She saw 
 that the loose white garment she had on was of foreign cut. 
 She then made the girl understand that she would put on 
 some of her's; and to this there was a cheerful assent. 
 When she began to dress, however, she found that she was 
 very weak; and before the simple toilet was complete she 
 found that it would be impossible for her to go out that day. 
 As the next best thing to be done, she kept up a conversa- 
 tion, by signs, with her new-found friend, who made her 
 understand that she had been there about twenty days. No 
 wonder, then, that she was too weak to walk. 
 
 For several days she remained in the room, with no com- 
 pany but the girl she had first seen. In fact, she saw no 
 other human face except that of the girl and those of the 
 loungers in the court below. The latter were neither very 
 interesting nor assuring for one in her position. She could 
 not find out how she came there, nor at whose expense she 
 
176 SACRIFICE. 
 
 was being cared for. It was evident that it was the allotted 
 part of the beautiful young Jewess to see to her comforts; 
 but whether it was a work of love or whether she had been 
 employed by some one, she could not satisfactorily deter- 
 mine by signs. The girl was very fond of her, and this gave 
 her some consolation. Each day she walked a little more in 
 the room, and felt in excellent health, except the weakness. 
 
 One day the girl brought her a newspaper printed in the 
 French language, and dated two or three days after the 
 disaster, in which was an account of the finding of the 
 wreck of the ' 'Sardinia" by another vessel, accompanied with 
 the statement that all had perished. When she had read 
 this and gave to understand that she could read it, the latter 
 expressed much gratification at having been of such service 
 to her. Miriam looked at the head of the paper and foun& 
 that it was printed at Smyrna, and her companion made her 
 understand that she was in that city. It gave her some con- 
 solation to know that she was in a city where some people 
 resided who spoke a language she could understand. 
 
 Once more she thought of trying the effect of a walk out 
 of doors, and, dressed in her friend's clothes, which she 
 fancied became her very much, she and her companion 
 descended several flights of stairs and emerged into a dirty, 
 narrow street, along which it seemed impossible to walk 
 without getting tramped under the feet of the droves of 
 loaded camels going along it. Her friend, however, under- 
 stood how to get through, for, seizing Miriam's hand, she got 
 alongside of a huge camel going the way she desired to go, 
 and thus protected they hurried on for several blocks, when 
 they took another cross-street, not so crowded as the first, 
 and presently came to the river Meles, and then walked 
 along its bank; crossing the great caravan bridge, they 
 found a grassy plot and sat down upon it to rest and to en- 
 joy the sight of the great troops of camels coming and going. 
 In spite of all her troubles, Miriam was interested in this 
 scene, so new to her in all its aspects. 
 
FBOM SYMENA TO JERUSALEM. 177 
 
 A great caravan was approaching the city from the inte- 
 rior, and high upon the back of one of the animals she dis- 
 covered one whom she had seen before one with whom she 
 could at least talk, if she could only engage his attention; 
 and, moreover, next to her own kin or her lover, he was the 
 man of all others she most desired to see. Wild with ex- 
 citement, she rushed toward the approaching caravan, fol- 
 lowed by her youthful attendant. Clear on up to the side 
 of the huge camel, on which satjthe person whom she sought, 
 she went and called aloud : 
 
 ' ' My friend, I have seen you before. I am here desolate 
 and alone ! Pray speak to me !" 
 
 Her companion pulled her back out of the way of the 
 feet of the camels; but she saw that she had been recognized 
 by the man to whom she had spoken. She also saw that 
 her companion recognized in him an acquaintance. Just 
 before it reached the bridge, the caravan halted and the 
 man dismounted and came towards them. Miriam was so 
 glad to see him that she held out both her hands to greet 
 him, and said: 
 
 " Don't you know me ? I have been hunting for you for a 
 long time." 
 
 " I bees very glad to see de ladee." 
 
 11 How did you get here?" asked Miriam. 
 
 "De Mees knows I dells her I haf von schildrens at 
 Smyrna." 
 
 " I know you told me that, and you told me of one Hugh 
 Ashby. I want to know more." 
 
 "Ish de ladee going to see him?" 
 
 "I will, perhaps, if I can get to him; but I am here, 
 penniless and alone, among strangers. This young woman 
 has been very kind to me, but I know not who she is. I was 
 shipwrecked, and all my family perished. That is the 
 report; and I know they did, or they would have found me 
 before this." 
 
 "Den I can bees von friend to de ladee? Lends her 
 
 leetle monish ?" 
 12 
 
178 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " A little money is what I need now. You know that my 
 father was rich. If he should happen to be living, he will 
 pay whatever debts I may contract; and if they are all 
 dead " Here Miriam's voice failed and she could not pro- 
 ceed for some minutes. "If they are all dead, then I am 
 the only heir to a large property. So I can make you safe 
 in any event." 
 
 "De ladee needs not dells me all dat. Meester Ashby 
 pays me all dat de ladee gits." 
 
 "But I don't want to go to Mr. Ashby for it. I would 
 rather pay double as much myself." 
 
 "Den de ladee does not care for Meester Ashby." 
 
 " Care for him? I do not blush to say that I love him; 
 but I am not yet his wife, and I do not care to draw upon 
 his purse if I can manage to have one of my own." 
 
 " Dat ish all right. I lets her haf all vot she vants." 
 
 "Did I not see you on the steamer "Sardinia" just before 
 the wreck ? I thought I caught a glimpse of you once a 
 few minutes before she struck. In the small boat, too, I 
 looked back once and thought I saw you on the seat just 
 behind me." 
 
 " Vot dimes vas dat ? 
 
 "According to the signs I can get from my companion 
 here, it w*as about three weeks ago." 
 
 ' Tree veek ? O mine Got, I brooves by Meester Ashby 
 dot he sees me on de Dead Sea not more as four weeks ago. 
 I could not been dere if I try. I gits here only dis days. 
 
 "Then act as interpreter for me, and ask this girl how she 
 came to be in charge of me, and who has been paying for 
 my board and for her attendance." 
 
 The man, in whom the reader will readily recognize 
 Miriam's peddler and Hugh Ashby's Isaac, spoke a few 
 words to the girl, and, after she had spoken, he said: "She 
 is von boor girls vot vorks for de monish; und von day von 
 mans cooms along and hire her to care for de ladee. She 
 go. Den de doctor he cooms all de dimes till de ladee gits 
 up; den he cooms no more. De house is von blace vere dey 
 
FROM SYMBNA TO JERUSALEM. 179 
 
 keeps de lodgin' for de monish. Somebody bays de beels 
 dere, and dot is all vot she knows." 
 
 " You know the girl, do you not?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. I know de girl eber since she been born. She 
 is von goot girl." 
 
 " Did you say she was a poor girl ?" 
 
 "Yes; she haf no kin folks in de vorld, 'cept me, and I 
 vas kin to her granmudder, 'bout tousand years ago." And 
 Isaac laughed at his joke." 
 
 "Then I will care for her." And as Miriam spoke, tears 
 came to her eyes as she thought of her own desolate situa- 
 tion ; but she continued : "I love her very much, and my 
 providential escape from drowning calls for some act of 
 charity. She shall be my sister." 
 
 Isaac for such we will call him, although Miriam had not 
 thought to ask him his name interpreted Miriam's speech 
 to the girl, who fell on her neck and kissed her over and 
 over. Miriam returned her kisses, for it seemed that since 
 she had lost all her family this girl must fill a vacant place 
 in her heart. As she looked up she saw a single tear roll 
 down the cheek of the old Jew. She was astonished; for she, 
 like many others, had gotten the Jewish character from Shy- 
 lock, and imagined that when one of them reached the age 
 of fifty, and was dried up and ugly, he ceased to have a heart 
 for anything but gold. She had expected that the old man 
 before her would exact a bond which, if it did not ask for** a 
 pound of flesh, would at least call for two or three dollars 
 for each one she got. 
 
 "To-morrow," said Isaac, "I goes on de steamboat to 
 Acre. An' dere I has some camels; an' den I goes to Jeru- 
 salem. If de ladee likes to go 'long I dries to take care of 
 her." 
 
 "I will go along," she said, " and taj:e my young friend 
 with me. As you can find out everything, I want you to 
 hunt up the person or persons who saved me, and who so 
 kindly cared for me since I have been here. I would like 
 
180 SACRIFICE. 
 
 to repay them any expense they may have incurred, or at 
 least thank them for their kindness." 
 
 " Somedimes," said Isaac, ' * beeples dat does de best acts 
 does not likes to haf too much danks. I 'spect de ladee 
 reads 'bout de left han' not knowin' 'bout de right han's 
 doin's." 
 
 " Did you ever read it?" 
 "I haf heard 'bout it." 
 
 Isaac now spoke a few words to the man who had charge 
 of the caravan, and then accompanied the ladies back to the 
 lodging house. 
 
 "Here," said Isaac, when they had reached the room, 
 " here ish five hundred dollars in golt. Now I brings some 
 baper, and on dat de ladee gets de golt in Jerusalem an' at 
 some oder blaces makes him' altogedder dree dousand 
 dollars. Now you give me von baper dat you gits dat much 
 from Isaac, de ole Jew. De interest bees all fixed ven it 
 bees paid. I leafs dat all mit de ladee." 
 
 Miriam began to like the old Jew peddler whom she had 
 once ordered out of her home, and for whom she afterwards 
 entertained such a superstitious dread. Even now a suspicion 
 would flash across her mind that in all this seeming kindness 
 he intended to overreach her in some way; but then she 
 would quickly banish such thoughts as unworthy of her. 
 
 ' Isaac," she said, after he had brought her some letters 
 of credit, " what did you ever do with that curious ring you 
 once tried to sell me ?" 
 
 " Dat ring ? Oh, I got him. You vants to sees him ?" 
 
 "Yes; I would like to look at it once more." 
 
 "Yell, looks on him," said Isaac, holding it up to her 
 eyes, as before. She saw a curious ring nothing more. 
 
 " Is that the same ring ?" 
 
 "De sames." * 
 
 "But I do not see as I saw before." 
 
 "It bring von vision to von person," he said, "an' dat 
 vill be on de dings dey most dinks about." 
 
FROM SYMRNA TO JERUSALEM. 181 
 
 " Why did you take it from Hugh Ashby? He wrote me 
 about it, and said he would like to have it." 
 
 " I dells you. I gib him to de ladee if she bromise me to 
 gib him to Meester Ashby ven he say he vants him. If he 
 no vants him, she give it back to me ven I asks her. Ish 
 dat a bargain ?" 
 
 ' ' I don't see anything very hard about it for me. I will 
 take it. But, tell me, is there anything any reality in the 
 visions one may see in the serpent's eyes?" 
 "Dat, ladee, is more as I can dell." 
 
 * * Will Hugh Ashby see anything in it when I give it to 
 him?" 
 
 " I dinks he vill." 
 
 "Then why did he not see something in it when he first 
 got it?" 
 
 " He did not looks goot at it." 
 
 "Oh, I had nearly forgotten. By what name shall I call 
 my companion ?" 
 " Lea." 
 
 When alone that night, Miriam began to study the situa- 
 ation. Would she rush in on her lover in her own proper 
 person and claim his hand ? Or had she not better adopt 
 some disguise, and thus find out the secret which kept him 
 around so desolate a place as the Dead Sea? While she 
 could not permit a doubt of his fidelity to enter her mind, 
 yet the mystery which seemed to enshroud him, might make 
 her presence unwelcome, and to know this would be humiliat- 
 ing. When morning came she consulted Isaac, and he 
 thought it a splendid idea. He said he could so dress her 
 up in male attire as that even her lover would not suspect 
 who she was. 
 
 "I do not desire," she said, "to interrupt any work 
 he may have on hand, with my presence. If I should go 
 there as Miriam Howard, all alone, he would feel it incumbent 
 on himself to drop everything and see to my comfort. If I 
 had gone that way on a tour with my parents, it would have 
 been quite different. I can stand any climate that he can, 
 
182 SACBIFICE. 
 
 and any exposure lie can endure will not kill me. But what 
 will we do with Lea ? " 
 
 " Dare is von convent at Jerusalem. She can be left dare 
 to learn de English." 
 
 ' ' That's it, exactly ! " exclaimed Miriam. ' ' Our programme 
 is now made." 
 
 "Isaac took Miriam's measure with his eyes and went 
 out, returning in a short time with a complete male attire. 
 As she put it on, her maidenly modesty rebelled against the 
 act, but she brought to her mind her situation and the mys- 
 terious surroundings of her lover in mitigation. It was a 
 hard struggle to submit to have the long tresses, which Hugh 
 Ashby had so much admired, cut close to her head. When 
 this had all been done she looked in the glass, but failed to 
 recognize anything like her former self, and when the hat 
 was set on her head she thought the disguise perfect. 
 Isaac remarked also that a constant exposure to the sun 
 would complete the change by the time she reached the 
 Dead Sea. 
 
 " All things being in readiness, the party embarked the 
 next morning on a small steamer plying between Constanti- 
 nople and Cairo, which was to touch at St. Jean d'Acre, 
 the Ptolemais of the New Testament. In due time they 
 arrived at that historic city, where they found Isaac's camels 
 waiting for them. Miriam and Lea were placed upon a huge 
 animal, which seemed to feel their weight no more than if 
 they were a couple of flies. Miriam found her new costume 
 much better adapted to this mode of travel than her owjn, 
 and she began to enjoy it. Such a trip, of all things else, 
 was best calculated to divert her from her recent bereave- 
 ment and the troubles that surrounded her. The novelty of 
 everything and the excitement incident to the situation kept 
 her mind constantly occupied. 
 
 There is a pleasure to every one in occasionally being able 
 to lose one's identity and creep from under the conventional 
 decrees of society; and Miriam realized this to its fullest ex- 
 tent. In fact, she thought that her great sorrows would 
 
1 
 
 FKOM SYMBNA TO JERUSALEM. 183 
 
 have weighed her down in any other situation. So very 
 interesting was the journey to her, that when she reached 
 Jerusalem she did not feel the least tired. The first thing 
 she did on arriving in that city was to visit the Convent of 
 the Holy Cross, and make arrangements for the board and 
 tuition of her young protege. But when she had left the 
 girl there, and the gates of the convent clbsed between them, 
 she had to shed tears, in spite of the duty she had imposed 
 upon herself of keeping up the dignity of her masculine 
 attire. Then came the parting with Isaac. 
 
 "I must go," said that individual. "Beesness, Mees 
 oh, Meester beesness; von boor old mans vorks all de dimes. 
 Meester Ashby hafs von camp at Ain Jidy, and he many 
 dimes dere. You better dakes de camel and rides him down 
 dere, an' I sends von goot mans to bring him back. You 
 must bees a man, now; an' den don't forgit dat you must be 
 von brave mans, if Meester Ashby love you. Goot-bye. 
 Got bless you ! " 
 
 Once more Miriam Howard was alone, and as her lips pro- 
 nounced that word, "Alone," her heart sank within her; but 
 she bit her lip to keep back the tears that were rising to her 
 eyes, and said : ' ' Away with weakness ! Whatever may be- 
 fall me, I can but die; and it may be that the last link that 
 binds my affections to earth is soon to be broken." 
 
 During each day of the journey Isaac had given her lessons 
 in Arabic, so that she could now at least make her wants 
 known. He had also provided her with an elegant little five- 
 shooter, and on the route had given her full instructions in 
 its use, and she had become quite proficient with it; in 
 fact, Isaac said that there was not one man in a thousand 
 who was her equal in the use of the pistol. She would havq 
 liked to have been able to visit the many holy places about 
 the city; but as the old Arab whom Isaac had employed to 
 take her to Ain Jidy was waiting for her with the camel, 
 she had to pass on. She looked at the old Arab who held 
 the camel, and thought that if she had not seen Isaac dis- 
 appear in the far distance just as this one came from another 
 
184 SACRIFICE. 
 
 direction, she would have thought that her old friend had 
 come to serve in her disguise. 
 
 As the animal knelt down for her to mount, she said, 
 audibly, "Farewell to Miriam Howard! Henceforth, until 
 it may please God that a brighter day shall dawn, I am but 
 an actress on the stage, and all the minutiae of the part must 
 be studied and ever kept in mind." 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HOWARD DUDLEY. 
 
 J HEN Hugh Ashby returned to his camp at Ain Jidy 
 one afternoon just before the setting of the sun, 
 he found a trunk and some other articles of bag- 
 gage, which bore this, to him, strange address: 
 "Howard Dudley, Los Angeles, Cal," He made 
 inquiries of his Arab cook, regarding these things, and was 
 told that the owner, a mere boy, had come that day on a 
 camel, and, finding him absent, had gone sauntering off, say- 
 ing he would soon return. Hugh's curiosity being excited, 
 he started out to seek his new visitor. On turning around 
 one of the spurs of the mountain facing the sea, he looked 
 upward, and beheld high up its side even above the 
 fountain to which so few had dared to ascend the figure of 
 a stranger. Presently a huge stone came bounding and 
 dashing down the precipitous sides, knocking in its hurried 
 descent other stones loose, and the whole mass rolled, with 
 the force of the impetus given, over the delta in to the very 
 sea beyond. 
 
 "This must be a wild boy," said Hugh to himself. "He 
 will break his neck, unused as he is to these cliffs. I must 
 go up and show him the best way down." 
 
 Taking a path which would be free from the rolling stones, 
 should the mad-cap above start another avalanche down, he 
 started up the mountain's side. The stranger seeming to 
 see him, commenced his perilous descent. When Hugh had 
 gained the bench or terrace just under the one on which 
 the fountain was situated, he looked up and saw the youth 
 above him. At that moment a duck flew up from the foun- 
 tain, and at the instant a shot rang out, and the bird came 
 tumbling to his feet. Then he heard a musical laugh, and 
 a merry voice exclaiming, "Catch it!" The stranger, 
 making his way down the intricate path, soon stood face to 
 face with our hero. 
 
186 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " Oh, I must rest/' panted he, and, dropping upon one of 
 the rocks as a seat, he bowed his head into his hands, and 
 with heaving bosom sat for a few moments, as Hugh thought, 
 in utter exhaustion. Presently raising his head, he wiped 
 the perspiration from his brow, and said : 
 
 " It is all over now. Mr. Ashby, I believe," at the same 
 time extending a hand. Hugh grasped it firmly and said : 
 
 "That is my name, and I presume, from the name of the 
 luggage below, that I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. 
 Howard Dudley." 
 
 ' ' You have, sir. I have a letter down at the camp from a 
 friend of yours, which will explain who I am." 
 
 " Well, let us be hurrying along, for it is getting late, and 
 this descent is dangerous even in clear daylight. We 
 will take this duck with us, for game is rather scarce here- 
 abouts." Together they made their way down the moun- 
 tain side, Hugh often lending the assistance of his strong 
 arm to his young companion, who seemed at times almost 
 faint from the unusual exertions, and on their arrival at 
 camp they found supper awaiting them. Seating themselves 
 at the rude tables within the tent, they soon dispatched the 
 edibles before them. Afterwards the youth handed the fol- 
 lowing letter to Hugh, who, recognizing the writing, hastily 
 opened it and read : 
 
 "SAN JOSE, 187-. 
 
 "Dear Hugh: This will introduce to you my cousin, 
 Howard Dudley, who, tiring of the dull routine of books, 
 has concluded to finish his education by a tramp over the 
 world. He has told us all to look for him back only when 
 we see him coming, and not to expect to hear, from him till 
 he runs out of money. He says he will find you somewhere 
 and I am sure you will like him, especially when I tell you 
 that he is my pet cousin. And, for my sake, I know you will 
 treat him well, if not for his own. 
 
 " Tours affectionately. 
 
 " MIRIAM HOWARD." 
 
HOWARD DUDLEY. 187 
 
 Hugh read this over, and, as he finished it, he pressed his 
 lips to the signature, notwithstanding the presence of the 
 youth, on whose smooth cheek had mounted a rosy tinge. 
 
 " Young man," he said, warmly extending both his hands, 
 " this is indeed a passport directly to my heart. Miriam'a 
 wishes are commands to me, and I hope to find much to 
 interest you in this somewhat uninviting country. I have 
 managed to spend several months around here, and am not 
 yet half through with my investigations." 
 
 "Not yet half through!" exclaimed his listener, whom the 
 reader has recognized before now as Miriam Howard her- 
 self. "Then you will show me some of your discoveries, 
 will you not ?" 
 
 "Most certainly," said Hugh. "But, now, tell me about 
 Miriam. When did you see her last ? How did she look ? 
 What word did she send me?" 
 
 ' ' I saw her four months ago. She was looking splendidly, 
 and she told me so much about a certain gentleman away 
 off here on the Dead Sea that it would take a volume to con- 
 tain it all. Just imagine to yourself all the nonsense to 
 which a love-sick maiden could give vent to, and you have it." 
 
 "Do you know," said Hugh, smiling on the seeming boy, 
 " that you reminded me very much of your cousin Miriam 
 when I first saw you ?" 
 
 ' ' Did I ? We are both full-blooded Howards. You must 
 have a lonely time here, Mr. Ashby. What do you do to 
 amuse yourself when in camp ?" 
 
 "When I have nothing else to do I read," answered 
 Hugh. 
 
 "Then you must have a famous library to draw from, in 
 order to keep occupied ?" 
 
 " ^o I have. One of the finest in the world. There are 
 few better libraries than that at the Convent of Mar Saba." 
 
 "Miriam told me that you had a fine voice, and were fond 
 of music. Do you ever indulge in that pastime, among 
 these cliffs r 
 
188 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " Scarcely ever. Singing is, with me, a soul enjoyment. 
 I found pleasure in singing with her, not so much that I 
 loved the song as that I loved her." 
 
 "I took a fancy," said Howard, "a few months ago, to 
 take some lessons on the guitar, and became so greatly in 
 love with it that I managed to drag one even this far. It 
 has more than repaid me for the trouble I have had in pro- 
 tecting it from the baggage-smasher. I will give you an 
 accompaniment, if you like, for I see that you are inclined 
 to be sad to-night, and I know of no greater specific for 
 melancholy than music." 
 
 "It has been so long since I have sung to an accompani- 
 ment other than my own thoughts, that I fear I shall make a 
 failure; but get your instrument, and perhaps I may join 
 you." 
 
 The guitar was taken from its case, and, at the first touch, 
 Hugh recognized the hand of a finished performer. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Ashby, what will you have ?" 
 
 "Anything you please," he replied. 
 
 "Well, I will give you one of Miriam's old favorites," 
 and the guitar, under the player's expressive fingers, gave 
 forth the soft, sweet tones of the old-time air, ' * Mary of 
 Argyle." 
 
 " Why do you not sing?" asked Hugh. 
 
 "Howard Dudley's voice cannot compare to that of Hugh 
 Ashby's; therefore he will keep silent. You, Mr. Ashby, 
 must do the singing, for this climate has broken my voice so 
 that I croak like a frog. Now, I furnish one part of the 
 entertainment, and you must supply the rest," and she laugh- 
 ingly dashed off into a gay, rollicking air. Soon Hugh's 
 magnificent baritone joined in, and those old cliffs echoed 
 with the sounds of music, to which they had been strangers 
 for thousands of years. The Arabs, Hugh's faithful atten- 
 dants, lolling around in different positions, listened with 
 wrapt attention. Song after song followed in rapid succes- 
 sion, until Hugh, looking at his watch, exclaimed, in sur- 
 prise : 
 
HOWAED DUDLEY. 189 
 
 "Well, it is surely twelve o'clock? This is the most 
 pleasant evening I have spent since I left home. I suppose 
 we had better retire. You, Howard, will of course share 
 my blankets." 
 
 " Oh, no!" said Howard; " don't you see that I have a nice 
 little tent, just big enough for one, and that in it I have a 
 very comfortable bed for camping out ?" 
 
 Each, with a friendly good-night, retired to their respec- 
 tive [places of rest the supposed Howard Dudley loving 
 Hugh Ashby more deeply than did ever the Miriam in proper 
 person, and Hugh wondering how it was that he felt so 
 much attached to any one on such short acquaintance as he 
 was to Miriam's cousin. 
 
 Next morning both were out before sunrise, and again 
 they greeted each other affectionately, Howard with defer- 
 ence and respect, and Hugh with the attention and kindness 
 which one shows to younger persons whom he highly 
 regards. 
 
 As they sat down to breakfast on the duck" which had 
 been killed the previous evening, Hugh remarked to his 
 young guest: 
 
 " You are a magnificent shot, Howard." 
 
 " Purely accidental, I assure you. I am but a moderately 
 fair shot with the pistol nothing extraordinary whatever. 
 By the way, do you have much game around here ? I have 
 heard that nothing could live anywhere near the Dead Sea. 
 Is it so ?" 
 
 "There is but very little game. Occasionally there is a 
 duck to be found near some pool of water, like that which 
 you shot last night, but I have not killed over a dozen since 
 I came here. Did you notice the color of your duck ? Well, 
 everything that lives around about here the ducks, the 
 frogs, the scorpions, the wild hogs have all precisely the 
 same color, the ashen hue of the rocks." 
 
 "That is very remarkable," responded his companion; 
 ' ' but what were you intending to do to-day ? Do not, on 
 any account, let me interfere with your plans. If you don't 
 
190 SACRIFICE. 
 
 want to be bothered with me, why, I can take that nice 
 little rifle of yours and go out and hunt a wild boar, or some- 
 thing of that kind. If I can't do anything better, I can go 
 up on the mountain and roll rocks down," and a merry laugh 
 accompanied these last words. 
 
 "You shall accompany me wherever I go," said Hugh, 
 " and at the present I am thinking of going up to the con- 
 vent of Mar Saba. I came up from Gomorrah yesterday for 
 that purpose. I have been making some excavations down 
 there, and, of late, we have been going through nothing but 
 salt. It is as hard as rock, and we have to blast it the same as 
 we would stone; but, nevertheless, it is pure salt. Yesterday 
 I took out some human bodies in as perfect a state of preser- 
 vation as they were the day they were buried, four thousand 
 years ago. We had found before this many evidences that 
 we were working on that ill-fated city. Among other things, 
 I discovered a solid brick wall, which, on cutting through, 
 I found to have been a temple of some sort, and in it was a 
 quantity of golden vessels, which I suppose were used in 
 their ancient worship. As the workmen did not go with me 
 within the wall, they have not yet seen these valuable relics, 
 or I assure you they would not remain there long. I must go 
 to Mar Saba to get the good monks' assistance to carry all 
 this away. It may be of good use to some one, if not .to 
 me." As he uttered this last sentence a shade of melancholy 
 passed over his features. 
 
 The anxious heart of Miriam had made her watchful, and 
 now her quick eye noticed the sadness in his face, and she 
 asked : 
 
 " If not to you ? Why not to you as much as to any one?" 
 
 Her eyes were upturned to Hugh's, and in them was such 
 an expression of loving anxiety, that he could scarcely resist 
 their pleadings for his confidence. 
 
 He laid his hand gently on her shoulder, and sadly said : 
 " Please do not question me," then staggering tack a pace 
 or two, he dropped upon a rock and covered his face with 
 his hands. When again he looked up, every vestige of color 
 
HOWABD DUDLEY. 191 
 
 had forsaken his face, and his lips had the pinched, drawn 
 look of one suffering the tortures of mental anguish. 
 
 "What ails you?" said Miriam, as, jumping quickly for- 
 ward, she rubbed his forehead with her hands. At her 
 touch the truant blood returned to his cheeks, and he 
 seemed himself once more. 
 
 "Nothing," he answered. Then, after a moment's pause, 
 he said : ' * You look so like Miriam ! " 
 
 With a forced laugh, she exclaimed : " Then is my cousin 
 Miriam such a bugbear as to make one faint to even look 
 upon her likeness ?" 
 
 ' ' Do not question me now," he repeated. 
 
 They remained in silence for a few moments, Hugh still 
 sitting on the rock, where he had fallen, and Miriam stand- 
 ing just behind, looking down on him, with face and eyes full 
 of anxious perturbation. 
 
 " Well," at length said Hugh, " shall we go up to Mar 
 Saba?" 
 
 " Go up among those women-hating old monks? Not I! 
 You can go alone, and I will amuse myself during your 
 absence." 
 
 " You misunderstand those good men. They hate none of 
 God's creatures. On the contrary, their whole lives are con- 
 secrated to the alleviation of human misery. You had better 
 go up and get acquainted with them, and then I know you 
 will like them as well as I do. Distance and misinformation 
 often make us think badly of those whom to love we need 
 but to know." 
 
 " Well, I will not go to-day, as I feel a little stiff after my 
 camel ride of yesterday. Let me have your gun, and*! will 
 practice rifle shooting. I will visit your monks, with you, 
 some other time." 
 
 * ' Now, Howard, if I leave you, you must not climb that 
 mountain again. The exertion for one unacclimated is really 
 too great. You will injure your health." 
 
 "I have no sweetheart to mourn for me if I do; but you 
 go on, and I promise you I will be a good boy." 
 
192 SACEIFICE. 
 
 " I have known you but a few hours, Howard," said Hugh, 
 affectionately throwing his arm around the ' boy's ' shoulders, 
 ' ' yet I love you very much, and I believe I would go almost 
 distracted should anything happen you. Therefore, be care- 
 ful of yourself. But here," he added, " is a flask of wine, 
 which seems to have remarkable powers in restoring worn-out 
 nature. There have been times when I should have died, 
 had I not found it. This wine, my boy, is two thousand 
 years old." 
 
 " Two thousand years old ! Where did you find it?" 
 
 " I found it in the ruin of Masada, some miles down the 
 coast; I found there, at the same time, about two hundred 
 thousand dollars in goldenware, which I have now up at the 
 convent. 
 
 "Masada? I have read about the siege of Masada by 
 Silva, and would like to visit those ruins myself ! " 
 
 "I will take you there some day," said Hugh. Then 
 changing the subject, he continued, " If I do not return to- 
 night, you will be perfectly safe here. These Arabs are trust- 
 worthy and faithful, and as they are much better armed than 
 any of the marauding bands that occasionally commit depre- 
 dations over the country, they never have any trouble from 
 them. There will be six or seven of them here to-night, 
 and each of them armed with a repeating rifle." 
 
 " I guess I can stay one night alone, where Mr. Ashby has 
 spent so many. My life is no more precious than his." 
 
 "But, my dear boy, there is a great deal in being used 
 to being alone." 
 
 " Well, do you think 111 ever get use to it any younger? 
 All things must have a beginning. Come, now; don't be 
 uneasy about me. I am going to walk down to the shore 
 with you." 
 
 ' ' I have here, said Hugh, when they had reached the shore, 
 "one of the cunningest little steamers you ever saw. A 
 party of Englishmen gave me a good-sized sail boat, which 
 was quite unmanageable for one or two men. They called 
 her the 'Victoria.' Now, those monks up at the convent 
 
HOWARD DUDLEY. 193 
 
 do all kinds of work. They have among them the finest 
 mechanics as well as the greatest scholars in the world, and 
 one day they surprised me by presenting me with a nice 
 steam engine, just the thing for this boat. We overhauled 
 her, took out the masts, and, as you see, changed her into a 
 perfect little propaller. And as the Englishmen had named 
 her in honor of their queen, I concluded to be equally loyal, 
 and you see the name of my queen painted on the sides." 
 
 " MIRIAM HOWARD!" 
 
 Had Hugh been looking in the eyes of "Howard Dudley," 
 as his lips repeated the name of the boat, he might have 
 detected a gleam of pleasure, a little too intense to be 
 natural, even in a favorite cousin. 
 
 In ten minutes steam was up, and the little craft, with her 
 single passenger, moved rapidly up the coast, and soon 
 rounding a point, was out of sight. Then, and then only, 
 did the overstrung nerves relax, and, dropping upon the hot 
 sands, her overburdened heart poured forth its sorrow in 
 bitter, burning tears. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE VIGIL. 
 
 HEN Miriam returned to the camp, she found the 
 Arabs loading a couple of camels, and from them 
 she understood that they were to be sent, with one 
 or two attendants, down the seashore to the place 
 where Hugh's party where at work, and that they 
 were to return that night. She felt the need the absolute 
 necessity of exertion. To sit and think would be tor- 
 ture; so she determined to mount one of the camels and 
 go, too. It would involve some thirty miles of travel under 
 the broiling sun, but that she would rather undergo than to 
 remain quiet and alone. She climbed therefore to the top of 
 one of the loads, and the animals started off in the swinging, 
 rocking pace peculiar to them. Soon the high battlements 
 of Masada loomed up before her, and she was seized with a 
 desire to spend the day within it. She sees the winding 
 serpent-like path up the face of the cliff, and makes her Arabs 
 understand that she wishes to go up there, and that on their 
 return she would meet them. The wind, filled with its sul- 
 phurous odors, was blowing scorchingly, and each moment 
 it became more hot and disagreeable, yet she started up the 
 dangerous ascent. Up, up the mountain side she climbed, 
 winding around the same circuitous and perilous path we 
 have seen Hugh follow. Sometimes, almost exhausted, she 
 seemed as though she could go no further; but finding, as 
 she ascended higher, the air grow fresher and cooler, she 
 gathered fresh resolution and courage to press on, and an 
 occasional sip from the flask which Hugh had given her in 
 the morning seemed to give her renewed life. At last the 
 gateway on the top was reached and Miriam threw herself 
 down to rest. The atmosphere there was so different from 
 that below that she vaguely wondered why all the people did 
 
THE VIGIL. 195 
 
 not go up there to sleep. She walked all through the ruin, ex- 
 amining it by the light of the history she had read. Then 
 feeling curious to know where Hugh had found the wine and 
 treasure, she prowled around, hoping to find the place where 
 it had been hidden. The pool of fresh and comparatively 
 cool water, by the side of which blossomed the oleander, 
 was found, and she drank, and was refreshed. After roam- 
 ing around to her heart's content, she concluded, as the after- 
 noon was fast waning, to go to the eastern wall overlooking 
 the sea, and there watch for the appearance of the camels 
 from the south. She found a shady nook, where the pleasant 
 breezes fanned her, and throwing herself upon the ground, 
 with a stone for a pillow, she lay, enjoying the delicious, 
 cool, quiet atmosphere, every now and then raising her head 
 to view the shore, until at last her eyes closed unconsciously, 
 and she was soon in a deep, invigorating slumber, such as 
 
 she had not known since the wreck of the " Sardinia." 
 ******** 
 
 When Miriam awoke it was dark. Jumping to her feet, 
 she looked around, and recognized nothing but the familiar 
 stars above her. She was startled nay, more, she was 
 frightened, brave girl though she was. Alone, at night, in 
 such a place ! She began to almost fancy she could see the 
 desperate Sicarii cutting the throats of their own wives arid 
 children. How many innocent ones' blood was shed on this 
 very spot ! Every lonely oleander or tamarisk bush seemed 
 to assume a life-like appearance, and to nod and bow to her, 
 as though welcoming her to their phantom home. With a 
 strong effort of the will, however, she dispelled these fantas- 
 tic illusions, and said to herself : 
 
 "I can but die. And what is life to me? Father, mother, 
 brother all buried under the briny waters of the ocean; 
 and such a strange mystery enveloping Hugh, that he seems 
 lost to me forever. Let other women who have a future 
 shudder at being alone in the grave-yard . Am I not ever 
 alone with my own dead hopes ? Do not their pale phan- 
 toms constantly arise, mocking me with their semblance to 
 
196 SACRIFICE. 
 
 the joys which are past? O God! O God! Help me to 
 forget ! In vain do T shut my eyes and close my ears in the 
 effort to free myself from their torturing memories; but still 
 they come crowding in upon me, overwhelming me with their 
 force !" and looking around once more the dark, dreary place 
 she stamped her foot upon the ground, saying, impetuously : 
 " I am not afraid. I will not be afraid! Nothing more than 
 death can come, and that I do not dread." 
 
 Again lying down, she endeavored to sleep, but in vain. 
 Soon she welcomed the rising moon, which, as the air was 
 moderately clear, gave her an interesting landscape on which 
 to gaze. In the light of its transient beams, she saw, glisten- 
 ing in the distance, the sea. Calm and still it lay, as the 
 face of the dead, giving no token of the secrets hidden 
 within its dark depths; and, as she gazed upon it, a thousand 
 weird fancies flitted through her mind. 
 
 Turning her eyes toward the interior of the ruin, she 
 beheld, as had done Hugh on a similar occasion, the figure 
 of a man approaching her. As the figure continued to 
 advance, she called out a halt, but no attention was paid to 
 her demand. Thinking her language not understood, she 
 raised her rifle and fired one shot into the air, as a warning; 
 but still the figure paused not. 
 
 "Now," thought Miriam, "if you will not heed a gentle 
 warning, take this, for no nearer shall you come," and lower- 
 ing the gun to a level with the figure's breast, again fired, 
 fully expecting to see him fall; but, to her astonishment and 
 horror, he remained upright, and a dry, hollow laugh rang 
 out mockingly on the still night air. 
 
 She saw that he appeared to be an old man, with long 
 white beard reaching nearly to his waist, and that he was 
 dressed in the long flowing garments worn by the ancient 
 Jews. 
 
 1 ' Thou art in earnest, young lady," he said, to her utter 
 amazement, in her own mother-tongue. " But thou shouldst 
 not fire on friends approaching thee." 
 
THE VIGIL. 197 
 
 "Who, in the name of all that is holy, who are you?" 
 exclaimed Miriam. "I fired directly at your breast, and at 
 such a short distance that there could have been no possible 
 chance for a miss." 
 
 As she spoke, Miriam grasped a small dirk-knife, which 
 she carried about her person, in her hand, and again 
 demanded : 
 
 1 ' Who are you ? And why do you call me lady ?" 
 
 "As to who I am, maiden, go ask the winds that have 
 blown o'er these hills since creation's morn. As to the 
 second question, any man ought to know a lady, even in the 
 dark." 
 
 " Well, what is your business?" again asked Miriam. 
 
 " When a man is alone in such a place as this, and finds a 
 lady, also unaccompanied, is it not natural that he should 
 seek her presence, even though she does carry a battery of 
 artillery with her ?" 
 
 "A gentleman would consult the lady's pleasure, though, 
 as to whether he should remain." 
 
 "Lady, wherefore didst thou seek this country?" 
 
 " When I am convinced that it is any of your concern, 
 sir, I will inform you !" 
 
 "Shall I tell you?" 
 
 " If you can." 
 
 ' ' Thou hast a lover, who is about to undertake the noblest 
 sacrifice which ever fell to the lot of man, and thou, for- 
 sooth, wouldst rescue him to thyself. For a few brief hours 
 of pleasure with him on this earth thou wouldst snatch from 
 him the brightest crown within the gift of the Son of God, 
 and drag his soul with thine own down to perdition." 
 
 * ' And who, may I ask, told you all this ?" 
 
 "Is it not true?" 
 
 "Not one word of it is true," she exclaimed. "Now, Sir 
 Phantom, or whatever else you may be, what have you to 
 say to that ?" 
 
 "Then, maiden, did you not come here with the express 
 purpose of seeing him ?" 
 
198 SACRIFICE. 
 
 ' ' Do you not feel that you would take him from all other 
 allurements and enjoy his love forever ?" 
 
 "But you spoke of the performance of some noble sacri- 
 fice, and its reward of a heavenly crown, and of me drag- 
 ging him down to perdition. I would not do that. Never 
 shall I be an obstacle in bis path of duty." 
 
 "Art thou positive in this ?" 
 
 "Positive." 
 
 ' ' He will do as I have told thee, if thou dost not give him 
 the excuse which Adam had of old, ' The woman thou 
 gavest me did tempt, and I rejected that which Thou hadst 
 in store for me.' " 
 
 " How am I to know this?" she asked. 
 
 " By the use of thy reason," he replied, and, turning,. 
 walked away. He had gone but a few steps, however, when, 
 looking back, he said in a menacing tone : 
 
 "After the promise he has made, woe be unto him if he 
 sickens at the sacrifice and woe be unto thee, if thou 
 provest false to him and to thy God, in this thing." 
 
 With these words, he disappeared in the gloom, and 
 Miriam was once more alone. Bitter were the reflections 
 which disturbed her mind. All was mystery such awful, 
 overwhelming mystery. She forgot that she was alone in 
 that desolate place. Hobgoblins or spirits had then no 
 terror for her. In the midst of her meditations, she heard 
 a voice calling : 
 
 "Howard!" 
 
 " There is Hugh! dear old Hugh!" she exclaimed to her- 
 self, and the first impulse was to fly to his arms, but remem- 
 bering her disguise, she recalled her scattered thoughts, 
 murmuring: "He must not suspect me. That accidental 
 shot at the duck yesterday completely threw him off from 
 any suspicion he might possibly have had. I must turn this 
 adventure to-night to account. Dear Hugh! I hate to 
 deceive him." Then for the second time Hugh's voice was, 
 heard calling, and she answered: 
 
THE VIGIL. 199 
 
 "What is it, sir?" 
 
 "Oh, you are there all right, are you?" said he, rapidly 
 approaching. 
 
 " Of course I am here all right. Where else should I be?" 
 laughing in a saucy manner. 
 
 " You ought to have been at the camp ! " 
 
 "But, Mr. Ashby, it is so confounded hot down there, 
 and after a fellow has gone to the trouble of climbing up 
 here he hates to go back again right away." 
 
 ' ' Were you not afraid to stay up here all alone ?" he asked. 
 
 "Afraid of what, pray?" 
 
 "Nothing in particular, but the most of people do not 
 enjoy being in such places alone," and Hugh, seating himself 
 on the ground within a couple of feet of Miriam, leaned 
 over toward her, and said: 
 
 " Here, old boy, give me your knee for a pillow, for I am 
 fearfully tired. I felt uneasy at your being up here in this 
 desolate place alone, and hurried up that terrible path as 
 fast as my limbs would carry me." And resting his head 
 upon her lap, he lay with his face upturned to hers. Then 
 taking her handkerchief, Miriam wiped the perspiration from 
 his brow. 
 
 " What did you shoot at?" asked Hugh. 
 
 "I shot at a man, of course." 
 
 ' ' Shot at a man ! Did you hit him ?" 
 
 "If I did not hit him, I ought to have done so, for he 
 was within less than four feet of the muzzle of the gun when 
 I fired, and he simply laughed at me." 
 
 " Did you have any conversation with him afterwards ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 " About Hugh Ashby." 
 
 " About me! What could he have had to say about me ?" 
 
 " Oh, he said you were a good fellow, and that I wasn't." 
 
 " In what language did he speak ?" 
 
 "English." 
 
200 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " Don't you know that there is a legend to the effect that 
 the Sicarii hold high carnival up here every night, and that 
 the unfortunate stranger caught here alone at midnight is 
 subject to them, to be taken to their caves, and ever after- 
 ward be one of themselves ?" 
 
 " And to preserve your prospective cousin from such a 
 fate, you exhaust yourself climbing this mountain after 
 dark." 
 
 "I suppose you are right. When I returned to camp, 
 and the Arabs told me of your whereabouts, you cannot 
 imagine my uneasiness; so I hurried off to find and keep 
 you company. When near the foot of the mountain I saw 
 two flashes of the rifle and heard the reports following. I 
 feared that you might be attacked by some marauders and 
 hurried along so rapidly that I believe I almost tired myself 
 out. This comfortable position, however, will soon rest me." 
 
 ( ( "W ere you ever up here at night, alone ?" 
 
 "I was, and was visited by an old party who failed to 
 speak as favorably as yours did, and, ha! ha! old Isaac 
 came rushing up frantically to rescue me." 
 
 "Just as you have done to-night, ha! ha! But tell me, 
 what did your ' old party' say to you ? He told you, I sup 
 pose, that you were going to do some great and noble deed ?" 
 
 "Listen to me, Howard, and I have a tale to unfold. 
 Should you desire it, I will tell you all. You are brave, and 
 seem to be of a generous and noble nature. It may be that 
 I shall require a trusty messenger to Miriam Howard, and 
 you seem to be sent to me for that purpose." 
 
 Hugh began at the ruins of Babylon, and told her all that 
 we have written concerning him, and more telling it in 
 more fervent language, because he felt it all. 
 
 "And now, Howard, you know as much about this as I 
 do. Have you any suggestions to offer ?" 
 
 " It has come upon me too suddenly, Mr. Ashby, for me to 
 be able to suggest anything now. But why have you kept 
 all this from Miriam ? Why not trust her with it? You are 
 not afraid of her, I hope ?" 
 
THE VIGIL. 201 
 
 "No, I was not afraid of her, Howard.. I was afraid of 
 my own weak heart. It was not a matter which could be 
 transmitted by letter. I thought once of going home and 
 returning before the expiration of the year; but after the 
 promise I had made to those suffering souls, and to my 
 God, I dared not walk in the way of temptation. She is, I 
 know, all nobleness of soul, and would not dissuade me from 
 fulfilling the pledge I have given, because of any mere 
 selfishness. It was all myself which I was afraid of. I 
 feared, that, did my arm once more encircle her waist, my 
 lips touch hers, I would sacrifice my soul rather than tell 
 her I must leave her forever." 
 
 " Supposing that she should try to thwart you in this 
 thing? She might think all this necessary, and that it was 
 her duty to rescue you from it what, then, would you think 
 of her?" 
 
 " Understanding all, she could not. Suppose my entrance 
 into Sodom was all a dream, as Father Dominic says, then, 
 certainly, no harm can come from going to the shore again." 
 
 " You love her," continued Miriam, " better than all things 
 else, you say. Now, in that case, the signet of the angel 
 must come through her. How do you suppose that must 
 come about ? 
 
 "I know not. All I can do is to offer myself a willing 
 sacrifice. The rest is in God's hands." 
 
 "Suppose she," persisted Miriam, "should become pos- 
 sessed of that signet, and, knowing it, should withhold it 
 from you ? " 
 
 " Then I would love her no more. I could love no woman 
 who would wilfully thwart the will of God for any whim of 
 her own." 
 
 " Have you any idea what the sign is to be ?" she asked. 
 
 " None in the least. But whatever it is, I shall certainly 
 know it; that is the promise, that it shall tell its own tale." 
 
 " Have you ever thought of what will become of Miriam? 
 What effect, do you think, this will have on her life ?" 
 
202 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "I have thought much about that," Hugh replied. "In 
 that lies the great difficulty. If I should die she would 
 grieve for a time, and then recover from it. God, in his 
 mercy, has made us to forget. Death and separation is the 
 lot of all. Her heart would be sore and bleeding for awhile, 
 but soon the wound would heal over. The span of one's 
 life is but a spoke in the wheel of Time, but heaven extends 
 from everlasting to everlasting. I wondered why the poor 
 souls in the doomed city of Sodom could be gay, with but 
 the twelve hours before them. Then came the thought, how 
 little difference there was between their short reprieve and 
 our brief lives, when each was compared to eternity. We 
 look on a man six feet high, and then on a child learning to 
 walk, and there seems to be no comparison in size, but if 
 they had each to reach the sun, the difference would be as 
 nothing." 
 
 "Miriam made no reply to this. Her heart was too full 
 for utterance. Both were silent, and both engaged in their 
 own reflection. Presently, Hugh, overcome with fatigue, 
 fell asleep, and Miriam sat there in darkness, keeping senti- 
 nel watch over the form of her lover. She now knew more 
 than he, she thought. That she bore the expected signet on 
 her own person she was positive. His terrible doom seemed 
 now to depend on her free assent. She had been educated 
 to believe in a life to come, and had never in one instance 
 doubted her faith; but still she could not accept any such 
 spiritualistic demonstration as all this appeared to be. It 
 must be the work of some necromancer, of which she had 
 heard that so many abound in the East. If so, Hugh's 
 willingness to undergo the fearful atonement would win for 
 him the crown of eternal glory. But supposing there was a 
 reality in this doom, could she ever spend another happy 
 moment in this life, if she of her own accord sent him on to 
 meet it? Thus she sat, arguing with herself, pro and con, 
 with wide open, sleepless eyes, until the grey streaks of dawn 
 began to appear in the eastern horizon, and still Hugh slept 
 on. His slumbers were as quiet as the infant on the mother's 
 
THE VIGIL. 20$ 
 
 breast before it has learned the bitter curse sin has brought 
 upon mankind. As Miriam gazed upon him, thinking of the 
 bitter future perhaps in store for them, she stooped and im- 
 printed a light kiss* upon his forehead, and he smiled even 
 in his sleep. As the sun rose it saw them still in the same 
 position, and as it shone in Hugh's face, Miriam took the 
 hat from her head and shaded it, that he might not be 
 disturbed. Still she had not decided what course to pursue, 
 "I will take time," she said fco herself, "to pray. Pray y 
 that I may be given wisdom from on High to act as it shall 
 please Him, who holds my destiny within his hand. If I 
 am to suffer all my life so be it." 
 
 On awakening, Hugh exclaimed : " I have had such a 
 refreshing sleep: but," springing up, "what a selfish fellow 
 I am ! Here I have laid and slept the night away, while you 
 have sat and held me. I am ashamed of myself." 
 
 " You need not be so, for I assure you I was not one bit 
 sleepy. I had a nice nap in the evening; that was the reason 
 I got left by the camels, and had to spend the night here.'* 
 "Do you know, Howard, I dreamed of Miriam ? I 
 thought that we sat together in this lonely fortress, and that 
 she said to me, 'Hugh Ashby, you know that I love you, but 
 never will I stand in the way of your salvation. If you are 
 called to this work, go. As the Lord willeth, do. If I 
 never see you more, then, henceforth, while life doth last 
 me, shall every breath waft a prayer to heaven for you.' As 
 the time approaches for this sacrifice, less and less do I 
 dread it." 
 
 "I suppose," said Miriam, "you let one go with you, at 
 least to the city?" 
 
 " I think not. It is my impression that I should go alone; 
 but I shall want you to go immediately to Miriam and 
 tell her all. I have written everything so far, but the finale 
 you yourself must give. And now, dear boy, will you make 
 me one promise ?" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Ashby, I will promise you anything." 
 
204 SACRIFICE. 
 
 " Will you do all in your power to console my own dear 
 Miriam? Money I shall leave her in plenty, and if gold 
 will bring her earthly pleasures, give them to her. Let her 
 travel try and make her forget any sorrow all this may 
 cause her." ^ 
 
 Poor Miriam ! It seemed as though her full heart would 
 burst its bounds; but, with a violent effort of the will, she 
 controlled herself and answered, with her face turned from 
 his that he might not see the varying emotions written 
 thereon : 
 
 "I will promise you anything except this. I will not try 
 to make her forget you or anything connected with you. 
 She and I will both always pray for you." 
 
 ' ' You, Howard, do you ever pray ?" 
 
 " Of course I have, all my life. But now my prayers shall 
 henceforth be consecrated to an object." 
 
 "It is not, indeed, always the most solemn exterior which 
 covers the most religious heart. But I see," continued 
 Hugh, after looking in the direction of Ain Jidy, " that our 
 trusty Arabs are bringing a camel this way for us to ride 
 back to camp. Let us go down and meet them." 
 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE SIGNET. 
 
 HEN Hugh Ashby and Miriam Howard arrived at 
 the camp at Ain Jidy, tired and hungry, they found 
 an excellent breakfast awaiting them. It was the 
 pride of the Arab cook to have everything always 
 ready on his master's return from his fatiguing 
 tramps, as also to have the best that could be procured. 
 
 " Why do you have a camp here?" said Miriam, "and also 
 one down where you are at work, at Gomorrah, while your 
 principal headquarters are at the convent ?" 
 
 " No one who has any regard for -his health will live 
 around the south end of the sea. Even the Arabs can work 
 there but a short time, when I have to send them a relief. 
 The stench from the stagnant pools of sulphur and asphaltum 
 is most disagreeable, and the bleakness is that of utter deso- 
 lation. This is the only spot immediately on the shore that 
 is at all fit for a white man's camp, and it is, as you see, no 
 paradise. Then, as it is necessary to have some place in 
 which to keep valuables, and also to find persons with whom 
 one can converse on terms of equality, the Convent has 
 proved to be quite a convenience, even though I had not 
 found a home within its walls, and true, generous, manly 
 hearts beneath the coarse, religious habits. Then it is but 
 little trouble, with my staunch little * Miriam Howard,' to 
 go from one place to another." 
 
 While they were thus conversing, and enjoying their 
 breakfast at their leisure, a messenger arrived from the Con- 
 vent with letters for Hugh. He took them and, looking 
 over them, laid them carelessly down beside him, with the 
 remark that as there were none from Miriam, he would 
 finish his breakfast before opening them. 
 
206 SACRIFICE. 
 
 Miriam, glancing over, saw the superscription on the top- 
 most letter, and in it recognized the bold, clear characters 
 of her father's handwriting. The blood forsook her face, and 
 her heart seemed to stand still. It told her that he at least 
 had been saved. 
 
 " I see there is one from London," remarked Hugh. " That 
 must be from my friend, Lieutenant Condor, who gave me 
 the boats. I sent to the Society, not long ago, an amount 
 equal to double their value, and I suppose this is the 
 acknowledgment." 
 
 Miriam, at the same time, knew that the letter was from 
 the dear parent whom she had mourned as dead; but she 
 dared not speak, lest she should betray herself. She could 
 not eat, for the victuals seemed as though they would choke 
 her, and as she sat dallying with her knife and fork, Hugh 
 noticed her extreme pallor and agitation, and anxiously 
 asked : 
 
 ' ' What's the matter, Howard ? Are you sick ?" 
 "No," she replied, "only a temporary indisposition. I 
 am feeling better now." 
 
 " Ah, my boy, I fear that you overdid your strength yester- 
 day. You must be more careful, until you are acclimated, 
 at least." 
 
 After Hugh had eaten his breakfast with the utmost leisure, 
 little knowing of the poor, throbbing heart which so impa- 
 tiently awaited his movements, he again took up his letters, 
 and looking them over, selected one from his California 
 agent, opened and read it, then proceeded to make some 
 figures before turning to another. After he had seemingly 
 satisfied himself at this, he picked up a letter from the Pasha 
 of Bagdad, and, as if bent upon torturing poor Miriam to the 
 utmost, took his own time in reading, seemingly much pleased 
 with its contents. 
 
 "What a warm-hearted fellow that Abdul is F' he remarked, 
 and forthwith proceeded to relate the adventure with the 
 lion to his almost distracted listener. But all things must 
 
THE SIGNET. 207 
 
 have an end, and presently he picked up the London letter, 
 and, looking again at the superscription, remarked: 
 
 " If this letter was not post-marked London I would think 
 it was from Mr. Howard. It is the fac-simile of his hand- 
 writing. Do you know your uncle's writing, Howard?" 
 
 Miriam could not trust herself to speak, but simply nodded 
 assent. At length the seal was broken, and Hugh began to 
 read. Miriam looked anxiously into his face the while, as 
 though to read the story there. He read, first, with a pleased 
 expression on his face, then it was suddenly overshadowed 
 by a look of anguish, and the paper fell from his nerveless 
 grasp. The man whom she had seen but the evening before, 
 calmly and quietly talking of giving UD his life, of descending 
 down into the depths of the sea, and after a year of living 
 death, be relieved only by the torments of the damned, was 
 now completely overwhelmed by sorrow. In speechless 
 agony he pushed the letter to Miriam to read. 
 
 "Oh, my God!" he groaned, "would that I could have 
 been spared this ! " 
 
 The impulse was strong within Miriam to throw herself 
 upon his bosom and proclaim her identity; but would not 
 that complicate the situation ? What would he think of her 
 coming upon him in disguise as a spy ? Could either act so 
 freely thereafter, or would he allow her to remain ? With a 
 violent effort of her will she resisted the temptation, and 
 taking the letter she began to read. It was a long one, and 
 gave an account of Henry's marriage with Agnes Bonham, 
 and the conclusion to visit the old world. Then came the 
 shipwreck and the details of the search for Miriam. She 
 certainly was lost, the letter said, for no trace of her what- 
 ever had been found. Throughout the whole of the epistle, 
 however, there was no mention of the Jew, for Mr. Howard 
 would have thought it a weakness to attach any importance 
 whatever to the actions of such an individual. 
 
 Miriam had cause to rejoice that the whole party was yet 
 alive; but now it seemed plain to her that she had been 
 saved by some superhuman agency, and directed to this place 
 
208 SACRIFICE. 
 
 for a purpose. What was that purpose? To act as priestess 
 at the sacrifice of her lover ? Was that the part to which she 
 was called ? Her soul shrank back aghast as this awful pos- 
 sibility arose before it. 
 
 Long sat Hugh Ashby, bowed over the table, with his face 
 buried in his arms. When at last he raised his head, he 
 appeared calm ; but on his features could be seen the traces 
 of the storm which had raged within. 
 
 "Now, the last obstacle is removed by the hand of God," 
 he said. "I know my duty, and only pray that I may be 
 found worthy to undertake the mission. Howard, you are 
 now the only tie which binds me to earth. I love you because 
 you look so much like Miriam. {She has been called, but to 
 take her place among the shining hosts of heaven, and I hope 
 to meet her there in good time. You have as brave and true 
 a heart as ever beat in the bosom of a man, and I shall need 
 the advice and assistance of such a one. You will remain 
 with me till the last, will you not ? Miriam was my all ; but 
 now she is gone, you are my only earthly affection. And, 
 dear boy, I would do nothing to mar the pleasures of your 
 future life, but 
 
 " Catch the transient hour; 
 Improve each moment as it flies; 
 Life's a short Summer man a flower 
 He dies alas! how soon he dies." 
 
 The shadows of the afternoon were rapidly lengthening 
 when, a few days after the foregoing events. Hugh and 
 Miriam might have been seen climbing up the side of a 
 mountain, where was located the cave in which David hid 
 himself when sought by the army of Saul. They entered it 
 by an aperture which Hugh had discovered, as we have seen, 
 sometime before this. 
 
 "Here," he said to Miriam, "is where the young German, 
 of whom I have before spoken, must have found the parch- 
 ment letter from Samuel to David, as I also discovered 
 another, hidden away in this crevice," and he pointed to a 
 crack in the rocks, over which the spiders had now spun their 
 
THE SIGNET. 209 
 
 webs. "The one I found was more stained and mutilated 
 than that of the German, and Father Dominic will experi- 
 ence considerable difficulty, I think, in deciphering it." 
 
 "The more difficulty the greater the pleasure to him, I 
 judge, from what you have told me of him," said Miriam. 
 
 " You are right; he is never so happy as when poring over 
 some almost illegible old manuscript/' 
 
 "You have found other caves than this, have you not, Mr. 
 Ashby?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I have found several, the most interesting of 
 which, to me, is the cave in which Lot took refuge, when he 
 fled from Sodom . Do you know, Howard, that I have some- 
 times fancied that my old friend Isaac, of whom I have told 
 you the mysterious old man of Masada, and he whom I saw 
 fleeing from the hot winds are one and the same person, and 
 that person I imagine is none other than Lot himself." 
 
 * ' Oh, Mr. Ashby, you have dug around in these caves and 
 ruins so much that you have grown fanciful." 
 
 "Time, Howard, will prove its truth." 
 
 Miriam was startled when Hugh gave expression to his 
 idea of the supernaturalness of old Isaac, for it seemed to 
 accord with some of her own wild vagaries on that subject. 
 She knew more of that strange personage than even Hugh 
 himself, and now a new light seemed to have broken in upon 
 her bewildered mind. She was now positive that she had 
 seen him on the ship before the wreck, and that it was 
 through his agency that she had been saved. Perhaps, too, 
 it might have been through his agency that the loss of the 
 vessel had been brought about. Then, indeed, would it 
 seem that she was called of God for some great mission. 
 
 Hugh fanned himself for a while, with his broad-brimmed 
 hat, and then returning to the entrance of the cave, they 
 both seated themselves on a stone. Here on the shelving 
 cliff, not far from the upper formation, they sat, looking far 
 out on a desolate scene beyond. They both seemed think- 
 ing, and presently Hugh spoke, as though in continuation of 
 
 his reverie: 
 14 
 
210 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "He must certainly have some very important part to 
 play in this fearful drama. Some time ago, I found in that 
 cave an old inscribed tablet, which bore these words : 
 'The Lord hath this day put a yoke upon me, and my 
 burden is heavy. Upon the face of the earth am I doomed 
 to wander, until the Sodomites shall be purged from their 
 sins and enter the presence of the Most High.' " 
 
 " Then," said Miriam, "you think this proof positive that 
 Lot and Isaac are one, do you ?" 
 
 \"I think it very strong evidence, to say the least," he % 
 returned. "I afterwards went into this cave and found a 
 queer-looking ring on the finger of an old mummy, and was 
 coming out with it, when who should unexpectedly appear 
 but old Isaac. Just at this moment a band of wild Arabs, 
 who had been lying in ambush, seized me, and demanded 
 ransom. Isaac furnished the ransom, but asked for the 
 ring, which I foolishly gave him. 7 ' 
 
 "And have you never seen the ring since?" inquired 
 Miriam. 
 
 " I have not, and I lost it so quickly that I had no time to 
 closely inspect it. It was not till long after this adventure 
 that I began to connect those personages in my mind. I saw 
 Isaac some five or six weeks ago, but had not the opportu- 
 nity of speaking with him, or I would have asked him for 
 the ring. He was passing along by the convent on a camel, 
 and I was on the cliff, 400 feet above him. I should like to 
 meet the old Jew once more, for I have a foolish desire for 
 that ring, and would not stand upon any price he might ask 
 for it." 
 
 Now was the time. The desire had been expressed, and 
 would Miriam do her part ? Her eyes were directed on the 
 scene before her, but she saw it not. Far, far beyond they 
 peered, as though they would pierce the hidden future. The 
 finger of God seemed pointing directly to this, and a voice 
 seemed to echo in her inmost soul, "This is my will! 
 Do it!" His hand had led her on on to the fulfillment of 
 this purpose, and now, dared she, a weak, sinful mortal, 
 
THE SIGNET. 211 
 
 attempt to thwart His divine will ? If she herself had been 
 the one to suffer and to die, she could far more easily have 
 given up the signet, which, she now felt conscious, she bore 
 upon her person. She had pledged her word to give Hugh 
 the ring, whenever he should express the desire for it. Ten 
 thousand times more to her was this question than that of 
 life or death, and yet she must act quickly. 
 
 "Hugh Ashby," she spoke, in low, hollow tones, "it 
 appears that you are really the desired victim for this sacri- 
 fice, and I am the unhappy instrument ordained to send you 
 on to your doom. O God! would that I had the firmness 
 and wisdom of the holy Abraham, when, at the command of 
 the Most High, he sought to immolate his beloved Isaac on 
 the sacrificial altar! Oh, that I, unworthy as I am, might 
 be substituted in your place ! " 
 
 For a moment her head was bowed in silence, while Hugh 
 looked at her in wonder and amazement. Then raising her 
 bloodless face, with its deathlike, compressed lips, she con- 
 tinued: 
 
 " Mr. Ashby, I have met this wandering Jew this Lot of 
 yours and he gave me this ring to give you whenever you 
 should express a desire for it. Here it is." 
 
 Hugh took the ring, and as a last lingering ray of the set- 
 ting sun fell upon it he looked at it with a curious regard. 
 Now sweet, white-winged Hope lay dead at Miriam's feet, 
 and stricken by her hand. With silent, absorbed attention 
 does she watch both the ring and her lover's face no, no 
 longer her lover's, but the face of one who is lost to her 
 forever. The ring appears the same as usual, but the face 
 holds her spell-bound. A smile passes over his lips, as of 
 one to whom a pleasing picture has been unrolled. This 
 fades to be gradually replaced by a look of loathing horror, 
 in which his body shrinks and draws within itself, as though 
 it would escape from the contact of some slimy, hideous 
 reptile. Now, a mortal agony seems to draw and convulse 
 every feature, and a cry of bitter anguish bursts from the 
 pallid lips, while his body becomes as cold and rigid as 
 
212 SACBIFICE. 
 
 steel. The Land which hangs by his side is clenched, until 
 the nails are buried in the flesh and the blood oozes there- 
 from. A cold, clammy sweat stands in great drops upon his 
 brow, his bloodshot eyes seem staring at some frightful vision. 
 Miriam listens eagerly and intently, but no word falls from 
 his lips to betray the awful picture which he beholds. Now 
 a change seems to come "o'er the spirit of his dream," for 
 his body loses its fearful tension and his countenance again 
 becomes serene. Still he gazes intently on the ring. All is 
 not yet over. Suddenly his face is illumined by an expression 
 which painters so often strive feebly to catch, when they 
 seek to portray the beautitude of the saints. 
 
 With a shiver and a sigh Hugh seemed to awaken from 
 the spell which had bound him. Not more than two 
 minutes had elapsed during this scene; but to them both a 
 wave from the ocean of eternity had seemingly washed over 
 their heads. 
 
 "What was there about that ring, Mr. Ashby, which 
 made you look so strangely ?" said Miriam. 
 
 "Young man," he said in a solemn tone, "it is not best 
 for you to know all that has in this past moment been 
 unfolded to my view. I saw Miriam Howard, however, and 
 it seemed that she was still in the flesh, and she appeared to 
 know all. Can it be that Miriam is living yet ?" 
 
 "No! no!" cried Miriam. "She is dead, surely dead!" 
 And in her agony of heart she felt that the old Miriam was 
 indeed dead, and never to be resurrected in this world. 
 "But," she continued, "is it possible that you must go 
 down down to the depths of that pitiless sea, and after the 
 allotted time spent there, descend to the abode of the 
 damned ? Oh, Hugh Ashby ! would that the world contained 
 more like thee, and what a paradise it would be!" 
 
 " Listen to me, my boy. Why should you be troubled or 
 mourn for me? In this world men, without a moment's 
 hesitation, barter their souls to the enemy of mankind for a 
 few paltry pieces of gold, that can buy them but a few 
 moments' pleasure. They enjoy an apparently bright day 
 
THE SIGNET. 213 
 
 upon earth, and then, by their own bargaining, they go 
 down down down to the bottomless pit, there to remain 
 forever and forever. Pity them, child, rather than me. 
 How many of your acquaintances are living this life, and 
 yet you have never thought to bestow on them one word of 
 caution. I consent to stand pain and misery for a time, and 
 release those poor souls from their sufferings, to be rewarded 
 by an eternity in the presence of God. Had you, my boy, 
 seen your friend, Hugh Ashby, cheating the poor, and lay- 
 ing up great stores of gold, while they wept for the neces- 
 saries of life and were turned empty-handed from his door, 
 or had you seen him begrudging the orphans the poor mite 
 which they get, you would not have felt so badly for him as 
 you do now; yet in that case an eternity of woe would have 
 been awaiting him, while in this, angels congratulate his lot 
 and shout him welcome to the skies!" 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 fWO months have elapsed since the scenes narrated 
 in our last chapter. Miriam has, by extraordinary 
 effort, kept up her spirits, though Hugh has noticed, 
 with much concern, that the health of his young 
 companion has been gradually failing. Several 
 times has he urged that she go up to the Convent for recu- 
 peration; but, knowing it to be against the rules of the 
 Order for women to enter there, she resolved not to infringe 
 on their regulations, even though in the disguise of a man. 
 The excavations at Gomorrah have still been prosecuted dur- 
 ing this time, and many tablets and other records found, 
 which, a little over a year ago, would have been considered of 
 great value by Hugh. The different articles of gold or silver 
 were taken out, not that he attached any particular value to 
 them ; but his young friend, Howard Dudley, to whom he 
 intended leaving all his earthly effects, might, in connection 
 with Miriam, should she ever be found, do a great deal of 
 good with the money accruing therefrom. 
 
 ]\Jiriam's father still remains in ignorance of her existence, 
 for she, not wishing to discover her situation to any one, has 
 refrained from writing. 
 
 " My friends have, already," she thinks, " mourned me as 
 dead, and should they now hear that I am still living, it 
 would only enkindle an anxiety in their hearts which I can- 
 not now relieve. I will await the termination of this terri- 
 ble mystery, then fly to the nearest telegraph office, and 
 announce to them my speedy return." 
 
 As the days have passed swiftly, more and more has the 
 love of Hugh Ashby centred in the person of the supposed 
 Howard Dudley. They are sitting silently at the camp of 
 Ain Jidy (the Fountain of the Kid), busied with their anx- 
 
THE ATONEMENT. 215 
 
 ious thoughts. On the morrow comes the annual sirocco 
 and then ? It is the contemplation of this awful subject in 
 which the minds of both are absorbed. A number of frogs 
 go hopping past, with their heads turned from the sea. 
 Without saying a word, Hugh takes a stick and tries to 
 turn them in the opposite direction, but each seems to prefer 
 death rather than retrace one step towards the sea. The 
 lizards and the scorpions, also, which infest the rocks near 
 the water, begin to crawl out and join the procession of 
 frogs. The Arabs around the camp now begin to look 
 uneasy, and to hold consultations among themselves. 
 
 "See," said Hugh, "everything fleeing from this sin- 
 cursed spot. Year after year does the voice of God warn 
 even the poisonous insects and reptiles, as did the angel 
 warn Lot, to flee from the wrath to come. 'Fly, oh, fly from 
 the haunts of sin,' is this mysterious voice ever repeating in 
 the heart of every human being. The conscience of man is 
 as true a guide as is the instinct of animals. That is the 
 still small voice by which the Almighty speaks to His crea- 
 tures; but man, heeding it not, goes on and on, stopping his 
 ears to its faint whisperings, until at last God, wearied in 
 His strivings, delivers him over to his own destruction." 
 
 Miriam looks with a vague curiosity at the departing rep- 
 tiles, and sees Hugh's experiment with the frogs. She 
 turns her regards upon the anxious faces of the Arabs, and 
 thence to the calm, determined countenance of Hugh Ashby; 
 but yet she speaks not. She feels as though she were chok- 
 ing and her hands clutch nervously at her collar, when Hugh 
 suddenly turns to her and says: 
 
 "Howard Dudley, all Nature seems warning us that the 
 time for our final parting is near at hand. I shall soon take 
 a boat and cross the sea, while you must mount one of the 
 camels and depart towards Jerusalem. Here are papers 
 bequeathing you all my earthly possessions, without restric- 
 tion; but it is my desire that the means thus placed at your 
 disposal shall be made useful in ministering to the wants of 
 the poor. Relieve everywhere the cry of the distressed. And 
 
216 SACRIFICE. 
 
 oh, my boy! lead a pure and humble life; for in the end 
 naught else will avail thee; and if called upon to make any 
 sacrifice, for God's sake, make it like a man, and like one 
 who hopes for a glorious futurity in the realms of eternity." 
 
 Miriam's fingers close mechanically upon the papers 
 which Hugh has given her. She essays to speak, but no 
 sound issues from her pale lips. She is overwhelmed by a 
 realizing sense of the horrible catastrophe the next few 
 hours may bring forth. In her anguish, she is about to cry 
 out, "Hugh! Hugh! live for me!" but he has turned from 
 her and is speaking to his Arabs, and her agony is smothered 
 in the depths of her own heart. She follows, and greedily 
 drinks in the melodious tones of his voice as he speaks to 
 his faithful attendants. 
 
 "You have been with me," he says, "for more than a 
 year, and you have served me faithfully and well. You have 
 made my interests your interests. You have watched while 
 I have slept. Each of you has professed the life-giving faith 
 of the Son of God. Hold fast unto it, remembering always 
 the lessons I have taught you. Now, my friends, I have but 
 one more favor to ask of you. I desire that each will pro- 
 tect and defend this young man as long as he shall remain 
 in your country. Follow him, and be as true to him as you 
 have been to me. I go to meet the deadly simoom on the 
 eastern shore, and perhaps to perish." And, as the devoted 
 fellows crowded around, with exclamations of surprise and 
 regret at being separated from so good a master, he gives a 
 farewell pressure to the hand of each, and bestows on him a 
 small keepsake and a purse of gold, which to these poor 
 people seems a fortune. In the exuberance of his gratitude 
 each Arab falls upon his face and thanks his benefactor. 
 
 At this moment the aged form of Father Dominic 
 approaches. 
 
 " Oh, my son," says the venerable man, "although it was 
 but yesterday that I parted from thee, yet I could not rest 
 till I once more gave thee my benediction. If ever my soul 
 
THE ATONEMENT. 217 
 
 was encompassed with a human love, it is for thee," and he 
 embraced Hugh most affectionately. 
 
 Hugh knelt in reverence at his feet to receive his blessing. 
 As the old monk, with his snow-white beard and flowing 
 garments, stands with eyes upraised toward Heaven and 
 hands resting on the head of the kneeling man before him, 
 he looks like some priest of old, offering the atoning sacri- 
 fice to the Great Jehovah. Silently for some moments he 
 prays, then, as his supplications become more fervent, his 
 voice breaks forth : 
 
 " Oh, my son, may God forever bless thee, and thy inten- 
 tions. May this, thy charity, cover the multitude of thy 
 transgressions; and may He, who suffered for us all, in His 
 infinite mercy, rest thee on His loving heart, and crown thee 
 with the diadem of victory!" 
 
 Miriam stands like a statue, incapable of speech or motion, 
 until Hugh, rising to his feet, begins his preparations for 
 departure. Soon he is ready, and as he turns his steps in 
 the direction of the shore, accompanied by Father Dominic, 
 Miriam walks by his side, as though pushed by an invisible 
 power, and without any direction of her own will. 
 
 "I go," says Hugh, "prepared to bear suffering, and, 
 dear Father and brother (as pressing the hand of each), I 
 ask your prayers, that I may bear all without a murmur . 
 But I think I shall not have as hard a time as I had before, 
 for, in my ramblings in that quarter, kind Providence has 
 led me to a little cave where there is water, comparatively 
 fresh. It will still be burning hot, but I shall find protec- 
 tion from the awful wind." 
 
 Hugh has spoken his parting words to Father Dominic, 
 who wrings his hand in a tearful silence, and turns to 
 Miriam. 
 
 " Howard, my boy," he says, " good-by ! " ( 
 
 Miriam, guided by an impulse which she cannot control, 
 suddenly throws her arms about his neck and imprints kiss 
 after kiss upon his lips, and then, overcome by the inten- 
 sity of her emotions, her heart ceases to pulsate, and she 
 
218 SACBIFICE. 
 
 falls insensible into his arms. Hugh calls in frantic haste 
 for Father Dominic to hand him the flask of water, at the 
 same time tearing the white linen shirt from her bosom. 
 Now, for the first time, does the truth flash across his mind, 
 and he knows that he holds in his embrace his own ever- 
 faithful, ever-loving Miriam. 
 
 Still holding her inert form in his arms, he drops upon 
 his knee, exclaiming : 
 
 " Give me strength, O Lord, to bear this, the heaviest 
 trial of all!" 
 
 Straining her to his heaving breast, he pressed a burning 
 kiss upon those pallid lips, upturned to his. The blood goes 
 bounding through her veins, at this, and, opening her eyes, 
 she looks into his. From the love-light which she there 
 beholds, she knows that all is discovered. Again she closes 
 her eyes, as if to remain in that blissful embrace forever. 
 
 "Is it a woman, my son?" asks Father Dominic, as he 
 approaches with the water. 
 
 "Yes, Father; one as ' chaste as an icicle frozen by frosts 
 of purest snow.'" 
 
 The events of the past few months are rapidly reviewed in 
 Miriam's mind, and the warning words of the old man of 
 Masada ring in her ears as clear and distinct as the tones of 
 the church bell calling man to prayer. "Woe be unto thee, 
 if thou provest false to him and to thy God in this thing!" 
 
 As consciousness fully returns she gently disengages her- 
 self from his embrace, and covered with blushes and con- 
 fusion staggers to her feet. 
 
 "Hugh Ashby," she begins, "I know you will hate me 
 despise me, for the unmaidenly manner in which I have 
 come to you. I can but plead my love as an excuse. The 
 hand of an intelligence higher and stronger than mine has 
 drawn me on. That fatal ring was shown me in my own 
 home, and I saw you entering the doomed city. Something 
 seemed to warn me that I was wanted here. It was old 
 Isaac who showed me the ring then. Afterwards he saved 
 me from the shipwreck, and, thinking my family all lost, I 
 
THE ATONEMENT. 219 1 
 
 came with him to Jerusalem, and thence here. I could bear 
 the idea of death I could take your place and suffer the 
 torments of Sodom but I cannot, oh, Hugh, I cannot bear 
 the thought of losing your respect, your love, now as we are 
 about to be separated forever !" 
 
 She pours forth these words so rapidly and vehemently 
 that Hugh has no time to interrupt their flow. Gathering 
 her once more in his arms, he exclaims : 
 
 " Blame you, dearest? Oh, Miriam, how I love you! We 
 have both been led on by the hand of Destiny. You have 
 suffered, my darling; but remember, they who bear the bur- 
 den and are true unto the end, will reap the rich reward. 
 Do not, oh, Miriam, do not, for your soul's salvation, and 
 for mine, ask me now to stay! O my beloved, how weak I am 
 when you are near!" And the strong man drops his head upon 
 her shoulder and weeps. His stalwart form is shaken, like 
 the giant oak in the whirlwind, by great convulsive sobs. 
 Again does the full weight of the burden seem to fall upon 
 Miriam. Will she rise superior to herself and of her own free 
 will give him up to such a fate? Oh, the struggle in that 
 breast. Her tongue cleaves to the roof of her mouth and she 
 utters no word. Presently Hugh recovers himself and 
 speaks : 
 
 " Miriam, hell yawns beneath our feet! We must be 
 strong. Good-by! great, noble heart, good-by!" 
 
 A shower of kisses fall upon her brow, and he leaps into 
 the boat and steams across the sea, leaving Miriam and the 
 old monk standing alone upon the shore. They watch the 
 little craft in silence until it becomes a mere speck in the 
 distance, and then the good Father says : 
 
 " Child, it is time we were leaving this place. The Arabs 
 await thee impatiently." Bancroft Library 
 
 "I leave not this shore, reverend Father, till I have seen 
 more," she answers. "I will climb yonder mountain, while 
 it is yet light, and I shall abide in David's cave till all is 
 over. The elevation is high, and the winds surely cannot 
 reach me there. At least, I will try it." 
 
220 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "It is useless, my child. Thou hadst better save all thy 
 strength to pray for him who offers himself as this terrible 
 holocaust." 
 
 ' ' It is useless to argue with me, Father. Sometimes a 
 lifetime of prayer can be compressed into a single moment. 
 Time is precious. I go ! " 
 
 Miriam makes her way back to the camp, with ears deaf- 
 ened to the remonstrances of the good old monk. She dis- 
 misses the Arabs, telling them to return for her the day 
 after the storm, as she will remain alone on the mountain. 
 Eeluctantly do they and Father Dominic leave her, and 
 slowly wend their way up the ravine. Constantly does 
 the old man look back, hoping to see some motion beckon- 
 ing him to return. Miriam Howard is alone in that dreary 
 waste alone in her desolation ! 
 
 1 ' There is no danger," she says, bitterly, to herself. " No 
 danger from adders or scorpions, for they, too, have gone. 
 No living thing is near this accursed spot but my love and I, 
 and this sea of Death divides us!" 
 
 Night is gently folding the earth in her embrace, and 
 Miriam slowly and wearily ascends the perilous path towards 
 the upper fountain. She sits down on a small grassy plat, 
 and beneath the blooming oleanders she spends the night, 
 though she sleeps not. The cave is near by, but she will 
 not enter it unless forced to do so. The sun rises and she 
 hears the winds below her, and sees the waves dashing 
 against the shore, but she feels them not. It seems, indeed, 
 as if the Almighty has tempered the wind to His shorn lamb. 
 All the day long does she sit beside that beautiful little 
 fountain the Diamond in the Desert, as the Crusaders 
 called it. She sits, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of the 
 other shore. Towards nightfall she stretches her weary 
 limbs upon the grass, and sleep breathes upon her, and for 
 
 the time she knows no more. 
 
 * # * # -x- * * 
 
 The roaring of the waters become still, the winds cease 
 their moaning, and all Nature is as hushed as though the 
 
THE ATONEMENT. 221 
 
 Almighty were about to speak. A light, soft and effulgent 
 as a sparkle from the Divine eye when beaming with pleas- 
 ure on the good works of His creatures, illumines the scene. 
 Miriam arises to her feet and looks around her. Where the 
 sea had been there was now no water, but in its stead there 
 were stately forests and waving fields of corn. Filled with 
 surprise at this enchanting scene, she walks towards it, but 
 instead of the tortuous path by which she had ascended to 
 this lofty height, there spreads before her a gentle declivity 
 covered with verdure and dotted with fragrant flowers, over 
 which there skips and plays a thousand lambs. In the dis- 
 tance the towers of a magnificent city arise. 
 
 "This," she says to herself, "is Sodom. I will go and 
 meet Hugh." 
 
 She seems to have borrowed the agility of the fawn, and,, 
 as she passes fields of golden grain and herds of lowing 
 cattle, distance seems annihilated. She falls in with crowds 
 of people hurrying on to the city. All seem laden with 
 something for the market. Now a leautiful river is before 
 her, clear, placid and bright, as was the Jordan before the 
 dreadful curse fell upon it. On the opposite bank stands the 
 city. A bridge of stone spans the stream, with but a single 
 arch. Mingling with the crowd, she walks across it, and 
 stands in the streets of Sodom. Massive buildings of brick 
 or stone, with walls several feet in thickness, are on either 
 side of the street. She sees an immense palace, by the side 
 of which all modern structures dwindle into insignificance. 
 Just beyond this is a grand public square, and she beholds, 
 placed in its centre, the King, seated on a throne of gold, 
 which sparkles with a million gems. To this grand centre 
 do the people seem to flock, and she goes, too, apparently 
 unnoticed or unseen by them. She awaits in wrapt atten- 
 tion. Presently, at a point directly opposite to where she 
 stands, the crowd opens, and through the avenue thus 
 formed walks Hugh Ashby and the beautiful woman of his 
 vision Sara. They are hand in hand, and just behind them 
 comes Isaac no longer as the little old Jew, but tall and 
 
222 BA.CBIPICE. 
 
 erect, as she had seen him once in her imagination, when 
 he held the magic ring for her inspection. All eyes are on 
 the group, and every voice is hushed. As the king sees them 
 he motions them to approach, and descends from his jeweled 
 seat to meet them. Taking Hugh by the hand, he leads him 
 up the steps of the throne, and then, removing his crown 
 and other emblems of royalty, he again descends and min- 
 gles with the multitude. 
 
 Hugh stands with his feet resting upon the jewelled seat, 
 so that all may see him. He speaks. As that voice breaks 
 upon Miriam's ear, every fibre of her being is thrilled with a 
 delicious agony. Bending eagerly forward she stands, fear- 
 ing to lose a single sound that falls from his lips. He 
 reminds the people of the angel's promise to Sara, and 
 avows his own intention of suffering in their stead, until 
 their atonement shall be completed. He tells them of the 
 life and sufferings of the Son of God, by which 
 
 " In adamantine chains shall death be bound, 
 And hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal wound." 
 
 He holds up the signet by which they are all to know that 
 he is the one promised by the angel. At first no change is 
 seen except a flash from those wonderful eyes; but gradually 
 it grows, until the serpent, seeming to leave his hand, 
 encompasses the very throne, and from its mouth pours forth 
 a stream of fire. Then in the midst of this a cross arises, and 
 the serpent hangs thereon. Now it fades, and the image of 
 the Saviour, the Man of Sorrows, appears in its place upon 
 the cross, and Hugh explains that "as Moses lifted up the 
 serpent in the desert so must the Son of Man be lifted up ; 
 that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but have 
 everlasting life."* 
 
 Thousands bow down and worship, and Miriam is aston- 
 ished that they do not all do so; but there are those who 
 
 scoff and mock at the sacred scene, and will not accept the 
 .salvation offered them. 
 
 *8t. Johniii: 15, 16. 
 
THE ATONEMENT. 223 
 
 "O God!" Miriam prays, "forgive them; they know not 
 what they do!" 
 
 Hugh makes one last powerful appeal; but the scoffers are 
 as deaf as those whom we daily see, who mock at God's holy 
 Word, and listen not to the voice of His ministers. "It is 
 not according to my philosophy," say they. 
 
 Sara approaches Hugh, and he takes from her arms an 
 urn, and throwing its contents high in the air pronounces 
 the words of Baptism. The water glistens in the light like 
 a rainbow, reflecting the smile of God. Then in gentle 
 showers it descends upon tl/e people. All those who have 
 bowed in humble adoration now join in one grand hallelujah 
 of praise to God. "Holy! Holy! Holy! Lord God," they 
 cry. "Praised and blessed forever be Thy goodness and 
 mercy unto men!" 
 
 Mingled with these sounds of rejoicing are the awful 
 blasphemies of those who have turned from the salvation 
 before them. 
 
 He whom Miriam has known as Isaac approaches Hugh. 
 
 "Near four thousand times have I fled this city and I 
 could find no rest, till one should be found willing and 
 worthy to carry the serpent of Moses and the Cross into 
 Sodom. Now, shall my wife be freed from her bondage in 
 the salty pillar, and I can find rest in Abraham's bosom," 
 And he and all the others of the redeemed seem to vanish 
 from Miriam's sight. Hugh and Sara stand alone at the foot 
 of the cross, which has taken the place of the earthly throne. 
 All this while there were those who continued in the wicked- 
 ness of Sodom. They had eyes to see God's mercy, but saw 
 it not; they had ears to hear His word, but they would not 
 listen. 
 
 Now a voice, as from the Cross, is heard: "Well done, 
 thou good and faithful servant. Because of thy good will, 
 thy sins are forgiven thee; and this day shalt thou abide 
 with me in Paradise." 
 
 Sara kneels at Hugh's feet and says, "And, now, me!" 
 
224 SACRIFICE. 
 
 "Child of suffering," lie says, in sweetest accents, "it is 
 decreed that thou shalt not die; but, as thou art, thou shalt 
 ascend to the heaven thou longest for. But I must die! 
 Console thou my Miriam." 
 
 Now comes the dread thunders of Heaven's wrath ! The 
 wicked ones stand appalled, and then cry for mercy! mercy! 
 But now it is too late. The wailing and gnashing of teeth 
 is more terrible than ever Sodom heard before, for now they 
 have rejected the last offer of mercy, and hope is forever lost. 
 
 The city is sinking slowly sinking. Miriam stands par- 
 alyzed with terror. "With a loud crash the vast edifices 
 reared by the pride of man come toppling to the ground 
 all vanishes, save the wicked ones, praying when it is too late ! 
 TOO LATE! ! She looks for Hugh. He still stands at the foot 
 of the Cross, embracing it, and, with eyes upraised, beaming 
 with adoration. The Figure thereon seems to smile upon 
 him, and as the blood drips from those wounds and falls upon 
 his garments, they are changed, and shine with a refulgent 
 light. One drop of that precious blood rests upon his fore- 
 head and , forms the living, sparkling crown with which 
 Jesus adorns the brows of His saints. Miriam calls aloud : 
 "Hugh! Hugh! save me!" He turns and smiles upon her, 
 and Sara glides to her side. 
 
 " Sister in suffering," she said, "I must lead thee hence. 
 Come! The waters are rising fast. Fear not, be of good 
 faith, and I will hold thee up ! What follows is not for thine 
 eye ! Kemember Lot's wife, and look not back ! " And throw- 
 ing her arm around Miriam's waist, they glide swiftly over 
 the calm, smooth surface of the sea all the while the curses 
 and lamentations of the lost sounding in their ears. 
 
 Ascending the mountain side, once more Miriam is by the 
 beautiful fountain. She is weary, and sits down to rest. 
 Sara kisses her fondly on lip, cheek and eyes, saying: "Sleep, 
 
 my sister; thou needest rest." 
 
 $*:#'"#*'** 
 
 The sun had scarcely risen in the morning after the storm, 
 when Father Dominic and the faithful band of Arabs gather 
 
THE ATONEMENT. 225 
 
 on the sea shore at Ain Jidy. All is quiet. Not a word is 
 spoken, for a feeling of expectation is upon them all. The 
 good Father looks up towards fche fountain, and sees Miriam 
 coming slowly and laboriously down. Soon she approaches 
 them, and the feeble, halting step, and death-like pallor of 
 face and brow tell the tale of that night of anguish. As the 
 old monk sees these signs of suffering, his tender heart is 
 moved and the tears gush from his venerable eyes. With 
 hands outstretched, he hurriedly goes to meet her. 
 
 "Oh, my child," he says, "how fares it withthee?" 
 
 "Father," she replies, in low, weak tones, "all is over! I 
 have seen it all! Not long shall we be separated, for soon I 
 go to meet him ! " and she pours into his sympathizing ear 
 the events of the past night. While yet she is speaking, a 
 floating object drifts slowly towards them on the surface of 
 the dark, still waters. 
 
 "There," exclaims Miriam, in loud, excited tones; "there 
 is Hugh Ashby's body coming to me ! " 
 
 As though wafted by invisible hands, it floats directly to 
 them; a gentle wave throws him at their feet, and Miriam 
 embraces the lifeless form of her lover. Down upon their 
 knees, upon those burning sands, do they all fall and pour 
 forth their souls in the deep, fervent prayer of sorrow. Long 
 they had knelt in the burning sun, when Father Dominic, 
 arising, said to Miriam : 
 
 "Come, my child, we must remove his body, and give it 
 the burial befitting the Christian hero." 
 
 Miriam lifts her haggard face from her lover's bosom and 
 says: 
 
 ' ' Do you not see that I am dying ? Bury our bodies up 
 there by the fountain. My people have mourned me as dead, 
 and it is well they mourn not twice. Care for my poor Lea 
 she is the last of Lot's children." 
 
 Again she embraces the dead form of her lover, imprints a 
 kiss upon those cold lips, and her pure spirit has fled to Him 
 who gave it life. 
 
-