Part 17 (1/2)
”Master, your pardon,” said the Arab servant, bowing, ”but the Roman captain, Marcus, desires speech with you.”
”Marcus? Oh, I remember the officer who was stationed here. I am not well, I cannot see him. Bid him come to-morrow.”
”Master, he bid me say that he sails for Rome to-night.”
”Well, well, admit him,” answered Benoni. ”Perchance he comes to pay his debt,” he added.
The Arab departed, and presently the Roman was ushered in.
”Greetings, Benoni,” he said, with his pleasant smile. ”Here am I, yet alive, for all your fears; so you see your money is still safe.”
”I am glad to hear it, my lord Marcus,” answered the Jew, bowing low.
”But if it will please you to produce it, with the interest, I think,”
he added drily, ”it may be even safer in my strongbox.”
Marcus laughed pleasantly.
”Produce it?” he said. ”What jest is this? Why, I come to borrow more to defray my costs to Rome.”
Benoni's mouth shut like a trap.
”Nay,” said Marcus, holding up his hand, ”don't begin. I know it all.
The times are full of trouble and danger. Such little ready cash as you have at command is out at interest in safer countries--Egypt, Rome, and Italy; your correspondent at Alexandria has failed to make you the expected remittance; and you have reason to believe that every s.h.i.+p in which you are concerned is now at the bottom of the ocean. So would you be so good as to lend me half a talent of silver--a thousand shekels in cash and the rest in bills of exchange on your agents at Brundisium?”
”No,” said Benoni, sternly.
”Yes,” replied Marcus, with conviction. ”Look you, friend Benoni, the security is excellent. If I don't get drowned, or have my throat slit between here and Italy, I am going to be one of the richest men in Rome; so this is your last chance of lending me a trifle. You don't believe it? Then read this letter from Caius, my uncle, and this rescript signed by Nero the Caesar.”
Benoni perused the doc.u.ments and returned them.
”I offer you my congratulations,” he said. ”If G.o.d permits it and you will walk steadily, your future should be brilliant, since you are of a pleasant countenance, and when you choose to use it, behind that countenance lies a brain. But here I see no security for my money, since even if all things go right, Italy is a long way off.”
”Man, do you think that I should cheat you?” asked Marcus hotly.
”No, no, but accidents might happen.”
”Well, I will make it worth your while to risk them. For the half-talent write a talent charged upon my estate, whether I live or die. And be swift, I pray you, for I have matters to speak of, of more importance than this miserable money. Whilst I was commissioner among the Essenes on the banks of Jordan----”
”The Essenes! What of the Essenes?” broke in Benoni.
Marcus considered him with his grey eyes, then answered:
”Let us settle this little matter of business and I will tell you.”
”Good. It is settled; you shall have the acknowledgment to sign and the consideration in cash and bills before you leave my house. Now what of these Essenes?”
”Only this,” said Marcus; ”they are a strange people who read the future, I know not how. One of them with whom I became friendly, foretold that mighty troubles were about to fall upon this land of yours--slaughter and pestilence, and famine, such as the world has not seen.”
”That is an old prophecy of those accursed Nazarenes,” broke in Benoni.