Part 49 (1/2)
”Dead!” exclaimed Ben-Hur, aghast. ”Dead, sayest thou?”
”Nay, my son, I did not say so. I said they, my messengers, told me the Child was dead. I did not believe the report then; I do not believe it now.”
”I see--thou hast some special knowledge.”
”Not so, not so,” said Balthasar, dropping his gaze. ”The Spirit was to go with us no farther than to the Child. When we came out of the cave, after our presents were given and we had seen the babe, we looked first thing for the star; but it was gone, and we knew we were left to ourselves. The last inspiration of the Holy One--the last I can recall--was that which sent us to Ilderim for safety.”
”Yes,” said the sheik, fingering his beard nervously. ”You told me you were sent to me by a Spirit--I remember it.”
”I have no special knowledge,” Balthasar continued, observing the dejection which had fallen upon Ben-Hur; ”but, my son, I have given the matter much thought--thought continuing through years, inspired by faith, which, I a.s.sure you, calling G.o.d for witness, is as strong in me now as in the hour I heard the voice of the Spirit calling me by the sh.o.r.e of the lake. If you will listen, I will tell you why I believe the Child is living.”
Both Ilderim and Ben-Hur looked a.s.sent, and appeared to summon their faculties that they might understand as well as hear. The interest reached the servants, who drew near to the divan, and stood listening.
Throughout the tent there was the profoundest silence.
”We three believe in G.o.d.”
Balthasar bowed his head as he spoke.
”And he is the Truth,” he resumed. ”His word is G.o.d. The hills may turn to dust, and the seas be drunk dry by south winds; but his word shall stand, because it is the Truth.”
The utterance was in a manner inexpressibly solemn.
”The voice, which was his, speaking to me by the lake, said, 'Blessed art thou, O son of Mizraim! The Redemption cometh.
With two others from the remotenesses of the earth, thou shalt see the Savior.' I have seen the Savior--blessed be his name!--but the Redemption, which was the second part of the promise, is yet to come. Seest thou now? If the Child be dead, there is no agent to bring the Redemption about, and the word is naught, and G.o.d--nay, I dare not say it!”
He threw up both hands in horror.
”The Redemption was the work for which the Child was born; and so long as the promise abides, not even death can separate him from his work until it is fulfilled, or at least in the way of fulfilment. Take you that now as one reason for my belief; then give me further attention.”
The good man paused.
”Wilt thou not taste the wine? It is at thy hand--see,” said Ilderim, respectfully.
Balthasar drank, and, seeming refreshed, continued:
”The Savior I saw was born of woman, in nature like us, and subject to all our ills--even death. Let that stand as the first proposition.
Consider next the work set apart to him. Was it not a performance for which only a man is fitted?--a man wise, firm, discreet--a man, not a child? To become such he had to grow as we grow. Bethink you now of the dangers his life was subject to in the interval--the long interval between childhood and maturity. The existing powers were his enemies; Herod was his enemy; and what would Rome have been?
And as for Israel--that he should not be accepted by Israel was the motive for cutting him off. See you now. What better way was there to take care of his life in the helpless growing time than by pa.s.sing him into obscurity? Wherefore I say to myself, and to my listening faith, which is never moved except by yearning of love--I say he is not dead, but lost; and, his work remaining undone, he will come again. There you have the reasons for my belief. Are they not good?”
Ilderim's small Arab eyes were bright with understanding, and Ben-Hur, lifted from his dejection, said heartily, ”I, at least, may not gainsay them. What further, pray?”
”Hast thou not enough, my son? Well,” he began, in calmer tone, ”seeing that the reasons were good--more plainly, seeing it was G.o.d's will that the Child should not be found--I settled my faith into the keeping of patience, and took to waiting.” He raised his eyes, full of holy trust, and broke off abstractedly--”I am waiting now. He lives, keeping well his mighty secret. What though I cannot go to him, or name the hill or the vale of his abiding-place? He lives--it may be as the fruit in blossom, it may be as the fruit just ripening; but by the certainty there is in the promise and reason of G.o.d, I know he lives.”
A thrill of awe struck Ben-Hur--a thrill which was but the dying of his half-formed doubt.
”Where thinkest thou he is?” he asked, in a low voice, and hesitating, like one who feels upon his lips the pressure of a sacred silence.
Balthasar looked at him kindly, and replied, his mind not entirely freed from its abstraction,
”In my house on the Nile, so close to the river that the pa.s.sers-by in boats see it and its reflection in the water at the same time--in my house, a few weeks ago, I sat thinking.
A man thirty years old, I said to myself, should have his fields of life all ploughed, and his planting well done; for after that it is summer-time, with s.p.a.ce scarce enough to ripen his sowing.