Part 40 (2/2)

”I appeal,” he shouted, ”I appeal from Caesar the Small to Caesar the Great, from the murderer of a brave barbarian tribe to the conqueror of the world. O Caesar, t.i.tus here declared that all he has is mine. Yet when I ask him for the gift of one captive girl he refuses me. Command, I pray you, that he should keep his word.”

Now the officers and the secretaries looked up, for of a sudden this small matter had become very important. For long the quarrel between t.i.tus and his jealous brother had smouldered, now over the petty question of a captive it had broken into flame.

The face of t.i.tus grew hard and stern as that of some statue of the offended Jove.

”Command, I pray you, father,” he said, ”that my brother should cease to offer insult to me. Command also that he should cease to question my will and my authority in matters great or small that are within my rule.

Since you are appealed to as Caesar, as Caesar judge, not of this thing only but of all, for there is much between him and me that needs to be made plain.”

Vespasian looked round him uneasily, but seeing no escape and that beneath the quarrel lay issues which were deep and wide, he spoke out in his brave, simple-minded fas.h.i.+on.

”Sons,” he said, ”seeing that there are but two of you who together, or one after the other, must inherit the world, it is an evil-omened thing that you should quarrel thus, since on the chances of your enmity may hang your own fates and the fates of peoples. Be reconciled, I pray you. Is there not enough for both? As for the matter in hand--this is my judgment. With all the spoils of Judaea, this fair maid is the property of t.i.tus. t.i.tus, whose boast it is that he does not go back upon his word, has decreed that she shall be sold and her price divided between the sick soldiers and the poor. Therefore she is no longer his to give away, even to his brother. With t.i.tus I say--if you desire the girl, Domitian, bid your agent buy her in the market.”

”Aye, I will buy her,” snarled Domitian, ”but this I swear, that soon or late t.i.tus shall pay the price and one that he will be loth to give.”

Then followed by his secretary and an officer, he turned and left the audience hall.

”What does he mean?” asked Vespasian, looking after him with anxious eyes.

”He means that----” and t.i.tus checked himself. ”Well, time and my destiny will show the world what he means. So be it. As for you, Pearl-Maiden, who, though you know it not, have cost Caesar so dear, well, you are fairer than I thought, and shall have the best of places in the pageant. Yet, for your sake, I pray that one may be found who, when you come to the market-place, may outbid Domitian,” and he waved his hand to show that the audience was at an end.

CHAPTER XXII

THE TRIUMPH

Another week went by and the eve of the Triumph was at hand. On the afternoon before the great day sewing-women had come to the house of Gallus, bringing with them the robe that Miriam must wear. As had been promised, it was splendid, of white silk covered with silver discs and having the picture of the gate Nicanor fas.h.i.+oned on the breast, but cut so low that it shamed Miriam to put it on.

”It is naught, it is naught,” said Julia. ”The designer has made it thus that the mult.i.tude may see those pearls from which you take your name.”

But to herself she thought: ”Oh! monstrous age, and monstrous men, whose eyes can delight in the disgrace of a poor unfriended maiden. Surely the cup of iniquity of my people is full, and they shall drink it to the dregs!”

That same afternoon also came an a.s.sistant of the officer, who was called the Marshal, with orders to Gallus as to when and where he was to deliver over his charge upon the morrow. With him he brought a packet, which, when opened, proved to contain a splendid golden girdle, fas.h.i.+oned to the likeness of a fetter. The clasp was an amethyst, and round it were cut these words: ”The gift of Domitian to her who to-morrow shall be his.”

Miriam threw the thing from her as though it were a snake.

”I will not wear it,” she said. ”I say that I will not wear it; at least to-day I am my own,” while Julia groaned and Gallus cursed beneath his breath.

Knowing her sore plight, that evening there came to visit her one of the elders of the Christian Church in Rome, a bishop named Cyril, who had been the friend and disciple of the Apostle Peter. To him the poor girl poured out all the agony of her heart.

”Oh! my father, my father in Christ,” she said, ”I swear to you that were I not of our holy faith, rather than endure this shame I would slay myself to-night! Other dangers have I pa.s.sed, but they have been of the body alone, whereas this----. Pity me and tell me, you in whose ear G.o.d speaks, tell me, what must I do?”

”Daughter,” answered the grave and gentle man, ”you must trust in G.o.d.

Did He not save you in the house at Tyre? Did He not save you in the streets of Jerusalem? Did He not save you on the gate Nicanor?”

”He did,” answered Miriam.

”Aye, daughter, and so shall He save you in the slave-market of Rome. I have a message for your ear, and it is that no shame shall come near to you. Tread your path, drink your cup, and fear nothing, for the Lord shall send His angel to protect you until such time as it pleases Him to take you to Himself.”

Miriam looked at him, and as she looked peace fell upon her soul and shone in her soft eyes.

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