Back Aa

Tor, A Street Boy of Jerusalem

<h1>CHAPTER X IN THE PALACE GARDEN</h1> The wife of Pilate arose from her couch with a troubled and haggard look on her fair face. The maid who attended the great lady’s toilet observed this with curiosity. “There is tumult about the gates of the palace this morning,” she said, as she combed out the long blonde tresses with a comb of gold and ivory, preparatory to weaving them into a graceful crown of braided strands. The princess shrugged her fair shoulders with a slight gesture of weariness. “There is always tumult,” she said languidly. “Ah me, ’tis a dreary place—this Jerusalem. I would I were once more safely at Rome.” “If my noble lady will but glance into the mirror, she will behold a fairer sight than even Rome can offer,” said the maid obsequiously, and skilfully fastened a fresh-blown rose so that its crimson petals rested on the white neck of her mistress. “But the tumult of this morning differs from that of other days, honorable princess,” she went on eagerly. “Diomed says that the Jews have seized their prophet and are about to put him to death—if, indeed, they are allowed.” “What prophet, girl?” demanded the lady, a faint flush stealing into her pale cheeks. “Every man is a prophet—or a priest, is it not so, in this hateful Jerusalem? And the prophets have loud voices, and they are always creating a tumult.” “I myself have seen this man,” said the girl. “He is quite unlike the other rabbis, as they call them—of a gentle voice, and a stature majestic. I bethought me of my gods in Athens. Yet is the man a Jew.” “His name?” “His name is Jesus; also they call him the Nazarene.” The princess uttered a faint exclamation. “Pardon me, I beseech thee, honorable mistress, if I have fastened that last plait too tightly,” hastily interposed the maid, withdrawing a jeweled pin from its place and readjusting it with elaborate care. “Didst thou say they were bringing the Nazarene here—to the palace?” de[pg 149]manded the princess, turning her large dark eyes upon her servant. “Honorable lady, the man is already here, and my lord, the governor, is attending the case without upon the seat of judgment. The Jews refused to await the proper hour, and my lord Pilate, with his wonted indulgence, came forth to them. These barbarians have no hearts, noble lady, they are without consideration for the sleep of an illustrious Roman. They should be scourged as slaves.” “What will they do with him?” muttered the wife of Pilate, clenching her white hands. “Nay, my lord should have nought to do with this prophet. He must dismiss the case.” The maid stared at her mistress in some perplexity. “The morning is warm and fair,” she said at last. “Will [pg 150]it please your highness to breakfast upon the terrace? The lady Felicia is already playing in the garden of the inner court.” In the secluded spot where slaves had spread a table with the breakfast-service of the princess, the morning sun struck sparks of splendor from burnished plates and crystal, gem-rimmed goblets. Flowers of every delicate color and odor, violets from Gethsemane, lilies from the deep vale of Kedron, roses from the nearer gardens of the palace, heaped a golden bowl in the center, while around it glowed the richer hues of fruit, brought from distant parts of the country, and flagons of delicate wine, cooling in beds of snow fetched from the crown of Lebanon for this spoiled daughter of Rome. The lady cast a dissatisfied glance [pg 151]about the garden. “Where is Felicia?” she asked sharply. “She was here but a moment ago, noble lady,” replied the maid, who had followed her mistress with a fan of peacock’s feathers and an armful of embroidered pillows. “I will call Oonah.” But neither Oonah nor the child were anywhere to be found, and after a little the princess began her repast with frowning brows. “There is too much noise about the place,” she observed in a displeased tone, as she tasted a silver fig smothered in wine and spices. The servants glanced at one another with lifted brows. “It cannot be helped, honorable mistress,” ventured one of them, a young Greek lad, beautiful as a creation of Praxitiles in his short tunic bordered with blue. “All the loud-mouthed Jews of the city, it would seem, headed by their priests, are surrounding the judgment-seat before the palace. The guard would not have admitted them; but my lord, the governor, ordered it.” “He could not do otherwise,” said the lady, with a slight curl of her haughty lip. “But what is it that they are saying over and again? ’Tis a horrid sound, like the cry of wolves hungering after their prey.” Again the servants exchanged half-frightened glances, and again the beautiful young Greek answered his lady. “’Tis a custom in this Jerusalem for the governor to release a prisoner at feast time,” he said in a low voice. “Perchance, the people are demanding this pledge from the illustrious Pilate.” The lady’s face cleared. “Ah, it is so,” she cried; “I remember how it befell last year. My lord will release to [pg 153]them the Nazarene, who is called Jesus. Is it not so, Diomed?” The Greek hesitated, and in the moment of silence the child, Felicia, closely followed by her nurse, rushed into the garden. Her golden hair was disordered, and her blue eyes reddened with angry tears. “They shall not scourge the boy!” she cried, stamping her small foot. “I have said it; but that stupid, wicked Marcus declares that he will do it. Wilt thou not send for him, mother, and cause him to be punished for disobeying me?” The princess turned her eyes severely upon Oonah. “Where hath the child been, and what is all this about Marcus? What has happened?” Oonah trembled under the cold looks of her mistress. “’Tis the beggar boy again,” she faltered. “He was beating [pg 154]upon the door of the outer court like a mad thing, and demanding speech with your highness. But, of course, Marcus—” “Marcus is a beast—an animal!” again interrupted Felicia passionately. “Listen to me, princess, I can explain everything far better than this stupid Oonah. Dost thou not remember the beggar lad whose eyes were restored by a King named Jesus? I brought him to this very spot two—three days ago. The boy amused me with his story. But Oonah thrust him forth because—” “I remember,” said the wife of Pilate with a strange look. “What then?” “The mob wish to kill his Master, the King, and the lad came hither to beg his life. Marcus was about to scourge him and thrust him forth, but I forbade it. I say he shall not harm the boy. Do thou command it also, my mother—and quickly, for Marcus will not obey me.” “Fetch the lad to me, Diomed,” ordered the lady briefly. The young Greek obeyed, and presently returned to the presence of his mistress followed by the irate porter, his big hand buried in the rough curls of the beggar’s head. Tor presented a pitiable appearance, his pallid face streaked with tears and dust, his great eyes wide with fear and horror. At sight of the princess the child fell sobbing to his knees and lifted his lean arms in an agony of petition. “My Master—my Master!” he wailed. And again, “My Master, oh, my Master!” The wife of Pilate signed to Marcus to release the boy, then she ordered Diomed to give him wine. Tor obediently swallowed from the [pg 156]cup which was held to his lips; but not once did he remove his beseeching eyes from the beautiful haughty face of the princess. “Thou canst save him,” he whispered. The lady shook her head. “I fear that I cannot,” she said. Then to the astonishment of every one present she laid her delicate hand on the beggar’s rough head. “Tell me why thou dost love this man—this Nazarene?” she asked softly. “Nay, do not weep and tremble so, child. I will do all that I can to save him.” Tor choked back his tears and gazed steadfastly into the exquisite troubled face which leaned toward him. “I love him—because he loves—me,” he faltered. “He opened my eyes. He is good. He is the King—my Master. I love him.” [pg 157] “Why do the Jews hate him so?” murmured the lady. “In my dream I saw him—as one altogether lovely, enthroned high above all the gods of Rome and Greece. Then I saw—” She broke off with a shudder. The wild tumult of voices in the square without had risen into an awful, insistent iteration of one terrible phrase. “What do they say now?” she demanded with slowly-whitening face, turning to Diomed, who watched the scene with a satirical curl of his handsome lips. “They are demanding the crucifixion of some criminal, your noble highness,” replied the Greek, smirking courtier-like. “But why trouble thyself, dear princess, over the doings of the wild rabble? The man, Jesus, is no more than a Jewish peasant—a carpenter, they say. What can such an one be to the fairest princess in—” “Go, see what is passing without,” ordered the lady, with a look which froze the insolent smile on the lips of the Greek. “Go, and return quickly.” The Greek reappeared almost immediately with a white, scared face. “The scene without beggars description, noble lady,” he began hurriedly, answering the command in the eyes of his mistress. “The whole city is at the doors demanding the crucifixion of the Nazarene. The most noble Pilate believes him innocent of any crime, and would save him if possible; but—hear the mob!” It was impossible to hear anything else. Those awful beast-like cries penetrated the ears of the very slaves so that they cowered and trembled. “My tablets, Maia,” whispered the wife of Pilate. With shaking fingers she wrote a few words upon the wax. “Take this,” she said, turning to the Greek, “and give it into the hand of Pilate himself—no other. Go quickly!” The Greek drew back in manifest terror. “What, art thou afraid?” sneered the princess. “Hold, I will go myself. Perhaps I can save him so.” She arose and was descending the steps of the terrace, when the child Felicia flung herself at her mother’s knees with a scream of terror. “Do not go out into that dreadful place, mother,” begged the child. “They are horrible—those Jews. Stay with me!” The princess paused, hesitated, and finally yielded the tablets into the outstretched hand of Diomed. “Go—quickly!” she urged. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.