Front matter (continued 4)

Then did Matthias--who on this day had been chosen to lead the worship, and who like the rest of the congregation wore the fringed garment prescribed by law and the phylacteries upon his head and upon his left arm--arise, and cry aloud in the words of the ancient prayer which was called the Kadish; all the people joining heartily in the Amens.

"Exalted and hallowed be his great name in the world which he created according to his will; let his kingdom come in your lifetime, and in the lifetime of the whole house of Israel very speedily!"

"Amen!"

"Blessed be his great name, world without end."

"Amen!"

"Blessed and praised, celebrated and exalted, extolled and adorned, magnified and worshipped, be thy holy name; blessed be he far above all benedictions, hymns, thanks, praises, and consolations which have been uttered in this world."

"Amen!"

"May the prayers and supplications of all Israel be graciously received before their Father in heaven."

"Amen."

"May perfect peace descend from heaven, and life, upon us and all Israel."

"Amen!"

"May he who makes peace in his heaven confer peace upon us and all Israel."

"Amen!"

Then followed the eighteen benedictions, of which the first sentence only was repeated in a loud voice by the leader, the rest being recited by the congregation in unison. Save this prayer, which all repeated aloud and with a joyous tone of full expectation; for they knew him to whom they prayed. "To Jerusalem thy city in mercy return, and dwell in it according to thy promise; make it speedily in our day an everlasting building, and soon establish therein the throne of David. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who buildest Jerusalem." And so to the end, closing with the words, "Our Father, bless us all unitedly with the light of thy countenance; for in the light of thy countenance didst thou give to us, O Lord our God, the law of life, loving kindness, justice, blessing, compassion, life, and peace. May it please thee to bless thy people Israel at all times, and in every moment with peace. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who blessest thy people Israel with peace!"

Then followed the reading from the scriptures. Afterward Peter arose in his place and spoke to the people; he brought again to their remembrance the words of their risen Lord, 'how that they should continue to dwell together in all peace and love, forbearing one another and loving one another in expectation of that great day, perhaps nigh at hand, when he should return bringing his reward with him for them that had been faithful in all things.' He spoke also of the matter which had been troubling the minds of many during the days that were past.

"God knoweth, brethren," he said, "that we would not willingly neglect any, who by the grace of our Lord have joined themselves with us; least of all them who by reason of their affliction are dependent upon our bounty. If any have been neglected it is because of the weakness of the flesh. The work hath waxed too great for us; for besides this duty of the daily distribution of bodily food to them that lack, there remaineth also the duty whereunto we were set apart by the Master himself--of preaching the good tidings of salvation from sin and from death unto all men. 'It is not reason that we should set aside the work of God to serve tables'--and it is manifest that we cannot longer do both--'wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, whom we may appoint over this business. But we will give ourselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word.'"

And when he had finished speaking, Philip arose in his place.

"If I read aright your faces, my brothers," he said, looking around about upon the multitude, "this good saying hath pleased you all. Let us therefore choose, and that there may no longer be any thought of jealousy betwixt Jew and Greek--which thing also must be displeasing unto him, who according to his word, is at this time in our midst--let it come to pass that of the seven which we shall choose, three shall be Hebrews, three Greeks and one a proselyte. Then shall there be no longer need nor excuse that any should murmur concerning this matter of the dispensations."

And these sayings being approved of them which were assembled, one Aristarchus arose and presented the name of Stephen for the honorable office of deacon. "For he is," declared the speaker, "as is known unto you all, a man full of faith and of the Spirit."

And all the people cried with one voice: "Worthy! He is worthy!"

Then did they in the same manner choose also Philip and Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, and Parmenas; and also, according to the word of Philip, Nicolas of Antioch, who was a convert to the Jewish faith. And these seven stood up before the apostles and before all the congregation of the people; and when the apostles had prayed they laid their hands upon them, in token that thus were they set apart unto the sacred duties of their calling.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE WARNING.

The bell which hung beside the porter's lodge jangled sharply, and the porter, after first peering out to see who stood before the door, promptly opened. "My master is within," he said, making his obeisance. "I pray thee enter, reverend sir, thou wilt find my lord Annas upon the terrace. He is expecting thee."

Without a word the newcomer strode past and disappeared within. The porter stared after his retreating figure for a moment in silence, then he shook his head slowly. "His look is dark and threatening," he muttered, "it bodes no good for them that believe, when at night and at morning and also at midday those that hate us gather themselves in secret conclave. There be mischiefs brewing, I fear me; a dark cloud which will break ere long and bring swift destruction upon the church--unless the Lord send help, and that right speedily."

"And what hast thou found to grumble about now, Simon?" said a cheery voice at his elbow.

The old man looked up sharply. "Ah, Iddo, didst thou hear me? I am indeed falling into indiscreet habits in my solitude when I prate aloud of my fears. Had it been Aaron now, in thy stead--but why do I say so? I am not ashamed to own that I believe on the Nazarene."

"Thou art in good company, assuredly," said the young man, "though an open avowal of thy faith would doubtless cost thee thy snug quarters. The lord of this house is not likely to be of them which are daily being added to the church. Hast thou heard that of the priests themselves we are continually gaining in great numbers? 'Tis wonderful; all Jerusalem will be with us in another year; as for these worldly old hypocrites, let them be; they will die in their sins and the world will be better without them. Even the Master had no good word for such. Whited sepulchres called he them, and pronounced against them the woes which they assuredly have merited. Nothing can stand against us now, for the Lord is with us!"

But Simon shook his head. "Thou art young, Iddo," he said querulously, "and hast much to learn. There is a storm at hand and it will blow no good to the church; I have said it, and thou wilt see. Do I not stand at this gate and see them that go in and out? I hear also many things--for the Lord hath preserved my ears, and they that enter mind me no more than yonder stone bench--listen!" and the old man held up a shaking hand. "Yesterday I admitted two--four--five of them that be rich and mighty--I will not name them. They remained within, three whole hours by the shadow on yonder dial, then they came out together.

"''Tis a goodly thought of Annas to first put out of the way the pestilential Greek,' quoth one, 'the witnesses will not be hard to find.'

"'I trow not,' said another with a laugh, 'words are cheap both for the buying and selling; as for the fellow Stephen, he doeth more mischief among the common people in a week than the slow-witted hinds whom they call apostles could accomplish in a month.'"

"Stephen," cried Iddo, aghast.

"Hist, boy! Now thou seest that though I am old--and as thou hast said, given to over-much foreboding--there is a deadly mischief on foot."

"The Lord will smite them if they lay but a finger on Stephen," exclaimed the young man indignantly. "'Tis such as he that the Lord's flock hath need of; daily doth he work great miracles of healing, and his voice is heard in every synagogue persuading men to believe on Jesus the Christ. Men listen gladly; and to listen is to be convinced of the truth."

"Ah, boy! 'tis because of these very things that they hate him; were he less than he is, they would not lay a finger on him."

"But surely God will protect him!"

"God spared not his own son," said the old man solemnly. "He suffered him to be tortured and to be slain at the hands of these very men; and the servant is not greater than his Lord."

The other was silent for a time; all the brightness had faded out from his face. "Who is within now?" he said, at length.

"Saul of Tarsus," replied Simon, briefly.

"I shall warn them of the household of John of this thou hast told me?"

"Assuredly, but let it not be bruited abroad; there is nothing to be gained by it, and perhaps much to be lost. If the young man Stephen--" but the clang of the bell interrupted him, and he hastened to open. "Enter, my lord, I pray thee. It is so, my lord Annas is within, and with him the Rabbi Saul."

Iddo bowed with instinctive respect as the tall, gaunt figure swept by him and disappeared adown the passageway. "He is no longer High Priest," he said, in a half whisper, "and it perchance hath irked him to resign the office."

"There are other reasons for his haggard look," said the old man sagely; "but it is not for such as I to prate concerning the affairs of Caiaphas. The Lord hath dealt with him, as he doth also deal with all men; perchance that he may draw them to himself at the last."

"Nay; dost thou think then that it is possible for such as the murderers of our Lord to be forgiven?"

"'Tis assuredly not for us to set limits upon the compassion and love of the Father of our Lord Jesus--who also prayed for them in his agony. If he can save me, he is able to save any one; for I know my own heart how that it is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked."

"That is a true word, my Simon," said the young man, humbly. "No one knoweth it better than I, who was ever prone to do evil as the sparks fly upward.--I must away; if Stephen could but be persuaded to leave Jerusalem----"

"'Twas what I would have said," broke in Simon, eagerly. "Let him go--and at once. There is no need that he remain to fall into the net which these are making ready for him. It may be that it was by the good providence of God that I chanced to hear what I did." Then as he opened the door that the young man might pass out, he whispered, "Let them all beware of the Pharisee from Tarsus."

"'Tis a word of wisdom," said Iddo to himself, as he strode rapidly away. "Yet would he dare molest us who walk orderly after the law? If now we kept not the fasts, nor observed the solemn feasts, nor prayed at the times of the morning and evening sacrifice--but all of these things we observe and do. Yet have I heard Stephen proclaim in the synagogues that there was now no further need for the priestly slaughter of flocks and herds, because that Christ had given himself a sacrifice for the sins--not only of the Jews--but for the sins of the whole world. Even the apostles say not such things, it must be that he is over-bold--being a Greek. Some one should speak to him of the matter."

Revolving these thoughts in his mind, the young man came at length into the street where was the house of John the apostle. It was narrow, and still, and hot; the feet of the few passers-by--mostly women passing to and from the public fountains with their water-jars--making no noise in the yellow dust. Iddo paused a moment with bent head; he smiled, and his eyes sparkled with joy. "She is singing," he said aloud. And he hurried forward faster than before--almost stumbling indeed in his haste over some small brown object, which squatted silently in the hot sunshine before the door which he sought.

"What is this?" he cried, looking down, and discovering that the obstacle was none other than a small brown child; that there were, in fact, three of them, a boy and a girl--and betwixt the two a baby, smaller and browner than either.

"We be listening," said the girl solemnly, shaking the dark curls out of her eyes and looking up at her questioner. "The baby hath gone to sleep because he likes it; we come every day. Wilt thou sit down here? the dust is soft, and the music is like angels singing."

Iddo smiled. "Thou art right, little one," he said; "'tis like the voice of an angel."

"I lift up mine eyes to the hills.

Whence cometh my help?

My help is from Jehovah,

Maker of heaven and earth,"

chanted the melodious voice within, then it dropped to a pleading cadence,

"May He not suffer thy foot to be moved!

May He not slumber that keepeth thee!

Behold, the Keeper of Israel

Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

Jehovah keep thee from all evil!

He will keep thy life.

Jehovah keep thy coming and going

Henceforth and for ever!"

The listener sighed involuntarily; then he stretched forth his hand and laid it upon the bell--paying no heed to the solemn little voice at his feet, "If thou dost pull the rope the singing will stop."

Almost immediately the door opened, and a sweet voice cried, "Ah, 'tis thou, Iddo Ben Obed! Enter, I pray thee," then observing the young man's serious face, she added, "What hath befallen thee, friend? thou art as solemn as that great image in the desert which men call the sphinx."

"I have reason," answered Ben Obed, "as thou must hear presently."

"I must first speak to the little ones.--Enter, friend, thou wilt find my brother within. Why didst thou not knock, little one?" she continued, stooping to raise the sleeping child, "the sun is too hot for the babe; it breedeth mischief at this season. Stay--I will give thee some pomegranates, then must thou go home where it is cool. To-night if thou wilt come and knock on the door thou shalt enter, then I will sing to thee, and also tell thee a story of how the babe Jesus came through the wilderness to the land of Egypt." And having kissed the smooth brown cheeks in token of dismissal, she watched the two as they trudged away down the street, the sleepy baby toddling between.

Ben Obed was already seated upon the stone bench in the cool shadow of the house, talking in low tones to a young man of about his own age, who with bent brows and serious air was paying him diligent heed.

"I can scarce believe that such talk is more than idle threatening," he was saying. "Since the day that Gamaliel gave counsel in the Sanhedrim that we be left in peace, there hath been no active persecution. They must see by this time that the Lord is with us, therefore is the good counsel of Gamaliel proven; surely there can be none amongst them bold enough to fight against God. And this said I to Simon--or words of like import. I reminded him also that we are well looked upon by all the people, and how--being in all points disposed to keep the law--even the priests are daily joining themselves to our numbers. But he hath a different opinion; moreover, he bade me tell all of this household to beware Saul of Tarsus."

"What danger is threatened?" asked Anat, anxiously.

Iddo Ben Obed raised his eyes to her face, and there was that in their fiery gaze that brought the warm color to the maiden's cheek.

"Danger is threatened to Stephen," he said slowly, "though how great is that danger we cannot tell."

The face of Anat grew deathly pale. "Tell me--" she said, breathlessly, "all that thou hast heard."

Iddo dropped his eyes to the ground. "They will imprison him if he continues to preach that the Christ is mightier than the law," he said coldly. "What more I know not. 'Twill be best for him to leave Jerusalem."

Anat turned swiftly and went away into the house.

That evening she told the three children the story which she had promised them; and sang to them wild songs of the desert--vaguely remembered from the days when she dwelt in Egypt; and afterward the Psalm of the watchful Love, which she had sung in the morning. Then she gave the little ones into the hand of their mother, and went softly up to the housetop. A lonely figure stood by the parapet, looking away toward the afterglow which burned in solemn splendor behind the mountains. She hesitated for a moment, then went lightly forward.

"Hast thou heard," she said softly, "the evil tidings which the son of Obed brought to this house to-day?"

"I have talked with John concerning it."

"And what said he? Surely he urged thee to flee the peril?" And the girl's voice thrilled with passionate entreaty.

The young man turned. "Anat--beloved," he said softly, "I know all that thou wouldst say; and there is much in my heart that I would fain say to thee--only that the time is short. Already for me the daylight fades and the night cometh when I can no more work for the Master, while for thee there yet remaineth many years wherein to glorify his name; and this shalt thou do, and in the doing find peace--the peace that passeth understanding."

The girl had sunken to her knees beside him, her slender frame shaken with a tempest of weeping; but a great calm fell upon her soul as Stephen rested his hands upon her bowed head--his voice tremulous in that sweetest of all benedictions: "The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: the Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace."

CHAPTER XXV.

THE WRATH OF MAN.

"Thou hast the witnesses?"

"I have the witnesses, my lord; but there was no small difficulty in persuading any man to serve. A score refused outright, reviling me moreover and threatening me with death should I dare to molest the fellow. I placated them as best I was able, saying that I but desired to assure myself that the reports which I had heard against so excellent a man were false. Yet do I fear that these may fetch him word so that he will escape out of our hands."

"He shall not escape. What witnesses hast thou?"

"One Esek--a money lender--who for the sum of ten shekels of silver hath consented to witness; and with him two of mine own underlings, who will speak that which is put into their mouths with all diligence, both on account of the reward which I have promised if they shall acquit themselves well, and because of the scourging which awaits them should they fail. One of them is Iddo Ben Obed--a young man of some promise, who hath by my orders frequented their synagogue much of late, and can therefore speak understandingly of the thing. To him have I promised sure advancement if he shall please the Council this day."

"Thou art a faithful servant, Caleb, and shall thyself not fail of thy reward," said Annas approvingly. "Now see to it that the Council Chamber be prepared with all speed; we must accomplish the thing quickly, lest this favorable opportunity pass by us. Hast thou the man under espionage, that thou mayest lay hands upon him without delay?"

"He is at this moment engaged in his duties of almoner, my lord, distributing amongst the rabble of Jerusalem that which is little better than stolen from the Temple treasury, in that it is withholden from us unlawfully. Afterward he hath the intent to harangue the people according to his custom."

"He will find a different audience to-day," interrupted Annas grimly, "and one that cannot be led away by specious words. In what synagogue wilt thou find him?"

"To-day they purpose to assemble in Solomon's Porch, that they may entrap the multitude. The fellow Stephen will interpret the prophets, wickedly alleging--as do they all--that holy men, such as Moses, Isaiah, and all the prophets, foretold as the Messiah the fruit of the accursed tree."

"Little need to suborn witnesses when they openly profane the holy places of the earth with such blasphemies. But go now; keep the fellow under thine own eye till I shall send thee word, then fetch him with all speed, together with the witnesses. Stay a moment--see that there is no tumult made when he is arrested."

Caleb smiled as he again bowed himself before his superior. "I have devised a cunning plan wherewith to entrap him without tumult," he replied.

"All is going well," said Annas to himself when he was left alone. "Our patient and apparently fruitless toil is at last about to be rewarded. Besides Caleb, who shall in no wise lose his reward, we must not forget that we owe much to the discretion and zeal of Malluch and Zared, who have diligently spoken against this man and his words to the people. The sum agreed upon was forty pieces of silver for each of them--a goodly sum for such as they, yet if to-day's descending sun finds the man dead I will command that it be made fifty. But here is our Pharisee from Tarsus; I must deal wisely with him. I would that he were a Sadducee, the doctrine of the resurrection is a mischievous one, and one moreover which these blasphemous Nazarenes preach without ceasing. Greetings to thee, my son. This will prove a glorious day with us, if it shall witness a signal victory over unrighteousness."

The newcomer received this friendly greeting with chilling hauteur. "God knoweth that I long to see the workers of iniquity put to confusion," he said, throwing himself into a chair and fixing his stern eyes upon his companion. "But lying and deceit are hateful to my soul. Neither shall anything prosper that is accomplished thereby."

The face of Annas hardened. "Thou speakest in riddles, friend," he said coldly. "Whom dost thou accuse of lying and deceit?"

"It hath come to my ears that certain ones have been hired to speak evil of the man Stephen; that these have stirred up the people against him so that they are ready to lay hands upon him. It is true that the man hath spoken freely and openly in every synagogue, alleging that the carpenter of Galilee was the Christ foretold by the Prophets, and that he hath risen from the dead and is become the first-fruits of them that sleep."

"And hath he convinced the learned Saul of the truth of these things?" said Annas with a sarcastic smile. "Nay, that were a victory indeed."

Saul laughed aloud, a harsh, unmirthful sound. "I am of all men least likely to become a victim of this monstrous delusion. The man should not be suffered to speak further, for he hath the cunning tongue of a great orator, and convinces the people mightily. Neither I, nor any who have disputed with him have been able to undo the mischief that he hath wrought. But I like not that we suborn liars to serve our cause."

"We forbade these men to speak the name of the Nazarene some three years ago, letting them go with but a scourging, according to the counsel of the most sapient Gamaliel, whose pupil thou art. But how did they obey the commands of the most holy Council, and how hath the advice of Gamaliel profited our cause? Since that day they have not ceased to bruit the hateful name of Jesus of Nazareth about Jerusalem, till the very beggars of our streets pray to him openly. If we have employed discreet men to assist us in rooting out this menacing evil, what is it but the part of wisdom? Do not the Nazarenes also feed and clothe the men who are daily spreading this poison to the confusion of Israel? This man Stephen, being a Greek, not only doth not himself observe the law, but he is forever bringing to the mind of the people the words and practices of the Nazarene, who would be well forgotten by this were it not for such pestilent fellows. He diligently reminds the multitude how that the man worked miracles on the Sabbath day, declaring that God would have mercy and not sacrifice, and how he openly prophesied the destruction of the Holy Temple. The carpenter from Galilee, he blasphemously alleges, was God made manifest in the flesh; therefore his acts and words are greater than the law of Moses, and rather to be observed than any priestly commands. For such as this fellow there is but one remedy, as it is written also, 'The mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped.'"

Saul was silent for a moment. Before his mental vision there arose the face of Stephen, as he had seen him many times during the furious controversies which had of late taken place in the synagogues, glowing with high courage, hope and confidence, and illumined withal by a mysterious light at which he had more than once inwardly marveled. Then his face hardened. "It is just that this apostate be put to death," he said. "This is no time for half-way measures; but let it be done according to the law and without fear of the people."

"Thou hast said!" cried Annas. "This will we do, for the time is ripe. Listen, this very day he shall be brought before the Council; witnesses are at hand that every word may be established according to the law. As it is written, 'in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established.'"

"Who are the witnesses?"

"Reputable men--most reputable men. One Esek, a Jew, who dwells near to their synagogue, and----"

"Do these testify freely?--without money, I mean?" again interrupted Saul with an irritable gesture.

"It is the custom, my son, to compensate witnesses for the loss of time entailed upon them in the pursuance of their duty," began Annas smoothly.

But Saul broke in rudely. "I will have none of it," he cried, springing to his feet and striding stormily up and down the room. "Hired agitators amongst the people; hired witnesses against a man who, whatever his accursed beliefs, is at least incapable of such meanness."

Annas also arose, and with an air of awful dignity fixed his piercing eyes upon the flushed face of the young man. "Thou dost assuredly forget," he said slowly, "the respect due him in whose presence thou art standing. As the head of the high-priestly family, which for many generations has acceptably served Jehovah in that most holy office, I am not lightly to be accused to my face of that which my soul abhorreth, as also it is written: 'I hate and abhor lying, but thy law do I love.' Twice hast thou cast this thing in my teeth, and in so doing thou hast proven thyself unworthy of the high confidence which I have given thee; unworthy of the love which I have freely bestowed upon thee; unworthy----"

"Stay, I beseech thee!" cried Saul, raising his hand. He had grown deathly pale, and trembled visibly. "It is true, I have forgotten myself. I am well nigh mad because of the failure of all that I had confidently hoped for. Day after day have I gone forth to do battle for Israel, and day after day have I been worsted. I am of all men most unworthy, in that I have failed--miserably failed. I will return to Tarsus, and thou shalt see my face no more."

"Nay, my son," said Annas softly, "because thou hast acknowledged thy fault, it is forgiven. And dost think that I have not watched thee in this thy struggle against iniquity; that my heart has not bled for thee? Possess now thy soul in patience, trust in the Lord--and in me--and it shall assuredly come to pass. Thou shalt see the confusion of thine enemies; for the honor of Israel shall this day be vindicated right gloriously. As for the thing that thou hast spoken of, it shall be even as thou hast said. There is no lack of them that can witness against this man. Ay! and that will witness right gladly for the glory of Jehovah. Surely there is no need for us to say, 'Who will come up to the help of the Lord?--to the help of the Lord against the mighty?' Israel shall arise in her might, and shall gird herself against them that would do her violence, that would plague her with idolatrous and blasphemous practices. Too long have we held our peace in the presence of this devouring evil; the very stones of the Temple will cry out if we longer submit to them that profane its sanctity."

"As in the case of the Nazarene, it will be possible to do nothing of ourselves," said Saul bitterly. "And the Romans--they care for none of these things."

"Ah--there we have gained a signal victory over our enemies," said Annas triumphantly. "Herod is with us this time, though not openly. I have taken good care that reports should reach his ear from time to time how that these fellows continually proclaim the return of the crucified one to reign over Israel. He loves his paltry throne, and actually fears that the thing may come to pass. Not many days since he sent for me. He was lying at full length among his purple cushions.

"'Hast thou heard what these Galileans are saying,' he said, scarcely tarrying for the accustomed greetings.

"'They are saying many things that are unlawful,' I answered him, 'but nothing more dangerous to the peace and prosperity of the nation than that the dead malefactor--whom they claim is alive--will shortly return to rule over Israel.'

"'Dost thou believe that the man is alive?' he asked, fixing his eyes upon me.

"'If he be not alive,' I said, 'the sedition is none the less to be feared, for these fellows are capable of forcing the people to believe what they will. Wilt thou not then take measures against them who alone art in power?'

"'I cannot,' he whined fretfully, 'I fear the people--I fear the man--the--the dead man. I am not well. Hast thou not a law which will stop their prating?'

"'We have a law--yes,' I made him answer; 'but we cannot enforce it, since----'

"'The law--the law,' he interrupted.

"'The law is this--He that blasphemeth the name of the Lord shall surely be put to death, and all the congregation shall certainly stone him. The stranger, as well as he that is born in the land, when he blasphemeth the name of the Lord shall be put to death.'

"'Carry out your law upon these men,' he cried, throwing himself back upon the cushions.

"'Not so,' I answered, 'lest we fall upon evil times afterward. We be law-abiding in all points--civil as well as religious--and it is not lawful for us to put any man to death.'

"'There shall no harm come to thee,' he cried, 'I swear it. There is now no governor in Jerusalem. I am a Roman. I am the law.'

"'Give me a warrant sealed with thy seal,' I said. And he gave it straightway."

"Hast thou this writing with thee?" said Saul.

Annas drew a parchment from his bosom and gave it into the outstretched hand of the young man without a word.

"Inasmuch," he read aloud, "as the peace of Jerusalem and all Judæa is endangered by malicious persons, who proclaim that a crucified malefactor, to wit, one Jesus of Nazareth, is alive, and will shortly overturn the present government that he may himself rule; and as these persons moreover blasphemously affirm that said malefactor is the Jehovah-sent Messiah, I, Herod, do empower the Senate of the people of Israel, called also the Sanhedrim, to deal with such seditious persons according to their judgment and after their laws, which do fully provide for the scourging, imprisonment, and putting to death of all persons whether Hebrew or alien, who believe, affirm, and declare mischievous doctrines of the like. Signed and sealed, to the glory of Jehovah and the peace of the nation, this fifth day of Nisan, in the Asmonean Palace."

"God hath given them into our hand, my son," said Annas solemnly. "We must deal with them even as Elijah dealt with the prophets of Baal, and 'let not one of them escape.'"

CHAPTER XXVI.

UNTIL THE DAY BREAK.

In the morning of that same day, before it was yet dawn, Stephen arose and went away out of the city.

After the supreme renunciation of the night before, he had experienced a strange, a wonderful peace: the world had vanished from out his sight; he felt that he had already entered upon the life beyond. And while he yet marvelled and rejoiced because of this, he slept. How many hours had elapsed before he awoke he did not know; it was dark in the house-place, and the darkness lay heavily upon him like a pall. With the darkness there had also fallen the icy shadow of his approaching doom; before the shrouded face of this awful impalpable presence peace and joy fled away in affright. He strove to pray, but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. Near by he could hear the regular, peaceful breathing of John and Andrew; somehow the sound added an intolerable poignancy to his anguish. For the first time he realized to the full the utter loneliness of the soul. "They love me," he said within himself bitterly,--"but they sleep."

After a time he arose, and wrapping his cloak about him, stole out into the courtyard. The fresh wind as it smote him brought with it a sense of relief. The stars glittered keenly overhead against the dark blue of the heavens; the fragrance of a tall white lily abloom beside the little cistern hung heavy upon the air. An irresistible impulse to go swiftly--somewhere--anywhere--came upon him. Undoing the fastening of the outer door, he slipped out, feeling a quick thrill of satisfaction in the fact that he had accomplished this noiselessly. The cocks were crowing as he started swiftly down the street, first one, then another, then half a dozen at once, dying away into silence only to break forth again as some faint challenge from a distance rang out triumphantly.

As yet there was little token of day, but the keeper was drowsily undoing the fastenings of the city gate, in due anticipation of the market-men, who would soon be coming from every quarter. Stephen hesitated for an instant, then slipped through the opening without being observed. Before him lay the Roman road, hard and white, stretching dimly away into the darkness. All the young life in him leapt up at the sight.

"I have but to follow this road," he thought, "it will bring me to safety. And why, after all, should I remain? Wicked men have laid a snare for me, and it hath been made known to me in the mercy of God. It must needs be that I escape; I am young, I can and will do good service to them that believe for many years. What shall it profit any man if I perish now?"

He was walking the more swiftly as he communed thus with himself, and hearing, or fancying that he heard, a sound as of pursuit behind him, he thrust his fingers into his ears and ran, the road still dimly unrolling itself out of the darkness before him like a dusky ribbon from the loom of night. After he had gone thus for a long distance--his breath being well-nigh spent and his laboring heart knocking loudly for relief--he paused, and withdrawing his fingers from his ears, listened. There was no sound save the soughing of the wind in the gnarled branches of the trees and the shrilling of insects in the lush grass. He sank down for a moment to rest.

"If I go away now--as indeed those older and wiser than myself have advised--I can remain till the present danger be passed, afterward I can return, and--there is Anat. The world is wide, there is no need that we remain at Jerusalem. We two will go away into far countries and among strange peoples, that we may spread the Gospel among all nations, even as the Master commanded. It is right that this should be, else why do these thoughts come to me. As for means for my journey, I have here in my pouch the money with which I was to buy provisions to-day, this would the apostles gladly give me for my present needs--ay, and more. Yes, I will go--I must go." And he arose and girding himself resolutely, started once more upon his journey.

"I will go," he repeated to himself more than once. "I must go." But after a time he ceased to walk swiftly; at length he stopped altogether and turned his face toward the East. Faint rosy flushes--momently brightening--merged finally into long tremulous beams of pure unearthly light, which shot up as if in an ecstasy of triumph over the conquered gloom. Stephen's heart expanded at the sight. He sank upon his knees.

"'Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe,'" he murmured aloud. "'Who createst light and formest darkness, who makest peace and createst all things! He in mercy causes the light to shine upon the earth and the inhabitants thereof, and in goodness renews every day the work of creation. Blessed art thou, the Creator of Light!'"

Something in the familiar and well-loved words spoken in that dewy solitude seemed to sweep away the paralyzing and unworthy fear from out his soul. He looked at the Roman road, showing hard, white and dusty in the morning light, it no longer appeared alluring. He thought again of his resolve to use the money from the almoner's fund to make good his escape, and the honest crimson rose to his cheek.

"I am no better than a thief," he cried aloud. "I will go back; and if it needs be that I suffer, God help me, for the flesh is weak."

As he arose to his feet he saw with a shock of surprise that he had paused near to the little rocky knoll, called, from its strange resemblance to a human skull, Golgotha. Upon the bald summit of this place of death stood a cross, and upon the cross hung the figure of a man--naked save for his scanty rags which fluttered fitfully in the light breeze, the clear light of the dawn revealing with ghastly insistency his drawn features, and the purple wounds in his hands and feet. At the foot of the cross lay two Roman soldiers, evidently detailed to watch the dying man; they were snoring loudly, a half-emptied wine-skin upon the grass between them revealing the manner in which they had beguiled the night watches.

As Stephen gazed at this horrible sight, the figure on the cross writhed feebly, the blue lips parted. "God! daylight again, and I live--live--" were the words which gushed out from them in a quavering shriek.

Sick with a fear that he could not control, Stephen approached the cross, treading carefully lest he should awaken the brutal sleepers at its foot.

"Water!" cried the sufferer. "Yes, I see it--a brown stream running over its pebbles--a lake deep and cool. I will hide in it, my hands are burning--no, no, they are dead."

"Here is water," said Stephen in a trembling voice, holding his flask to the lips of the dying wretch--for he hung low, his feet almost touching the ground.

But the man could not drink; he opened his glazing eyes, apparently not seeing the face of angelic pity at his side, for he fell to babbling disconnectedly of many things, mingling frightful curses on his tormentors with prayers to the pagan gods.

Stephen sent up a swift prayer for help; he could pray now. "Listen!" he cried, not heeding the fact that a group of wayfarers had stopped and were regarding him with open-mouthed amazement. "Listen--thou mayest yet be saved. Jesus of Nazareth can save thee! Master, hear--I beseech thee--and save!"

The dim eyes were turned upon him now; there was a gleam of understanding in them. "Art thou--Jesus--of Nazareth?"

"Nay, I am but his servant. Call upon him quickly to forgive--to save."

"Jesus--forgive--save!" gasped the failing voice, then all was still.

Stephen looked once into the quiet face of the man on the cross, then down at the soldiers, who were beginning to stir a little. One of them sat up and threw his arms above his head and yawned.

"By Bacchus!" he exclaimed. "I must have slept,--a murrain on these night watches, the fellow could not have gotten away." Then his eye fell upon Stephen. "Who art thou?" he cried, springing to his feet; "and what art thou doing here? If now thou hast meddled with the malefactor--ha! the fellow is gone. Didst thou give him aught to help him to his death?"

"No, friend," answered Stephen quietly. "I but spoke to him of Jesus, the Redeemer; and if God will, that word hath helped him to eternal life."

The man to whom he had spoken made a motion as if to seize him, but the other, who had also awakened, held him back.

"Let be," he said in a low voice; "he hath done no harm; 'tis Stephen, the Nazarene."

The soldier dropped his arm. "Go," he commanded briefly; "we had orders to allow no one near the cross of this man."

Stephen bowed his head and passed on. He walked swiftly--as he had done before the dawn--but this time his face was steadfastly set towards Jerusalem, and upon it shone the light of a peace which the world had not given, and which from henceforth it was powerless to take away. Verily, when the day breaks, the shadows flee away.

CHAPTER XXVII.

IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW.

"Do thou, Ben Obed, watch the man till such time as I shall send thee word. Then--thou art known unto him? A fortunate chance--say this to him, 'There is one ailing at my house, who desireth thy immediate presence.' He will at once follow thee, and thou shalt fetch him without delay into the Council Chamber."

"Suppose that he will not follow me?" said the young man, fixing his black eyes upon the floor with a somewhat sullen expression.

Caleb looked at him keenly for a moment before replying. "If thou art zealous to secure for thyself the position whereof I have spoken, and the sum of silver which shall also be the reward of thy diligence, thou wilt not lack means to bring the man away from the multitude without exciting any tumult. It is not expedient for me to appear in this matter, else would I undertake it. But thou art not the only one, there is Malluch, or----"

"I will fetch him," said Ben Obed looking up hastily; "have I not said that I would do it?"

"The reward is sure," pursued Caleb. "And thou wilt have moreover the approval of thine own conscience in the matter, in that thou art, in serving thine own interests, also serving God--and doubt not that thine obedience will be as a sweet savor before him."

"What will they do with the--with Stephen?" asked the young man shifting uneasily about in his place. "He is--that is--I think--" and he stopped short, his eyes fixed eagerly on the face of his superior.

Caleb straightened himself, and his face hardened. "I have not asked the question of them above me in authority. To receive an order and to obey it without question, comment, or opinion hath ever been my way. It should also be thy way if thou hast a desire to advance thyself in life. As also it is written, 'Seest thou a man diligent in his business, he shall stand before kings.' This have I done; not once, but many times," and the speaker drew himself up to his full height, and passed his beard through his hand with the same impressive gesture that he had observed many times--and admired--in the lordly Annas. "Go now, young man," he continued, "and acquit thyself well, as becometh the son of a wise and diligent man. So shall thy mother rejoice in the day of thy birth."

"They will imprison him," muttered Iddo Ben Obed to himself as he turned away. "He hath assuredly spoken contrary to the law; and why should I not witness to the truth? A man must faithfully perform the duties whereunto he is called without partiality. This Stephen is a Greek--at least by his father--and is it lawful to set the son of a malefactor in a place of authority? I say not. If he were once out of the way I could win the maid Anat. I know that I could. I can give her a home and abundance of all that she hath need of. I will do this thing. He hath brought it upon himself, for I have thrice warned him to leave Jerusalem. He will not leave, and why?--he thinks forsooth that I am blind."

And having come to the place where the daily distributions were wont to be made, he mingled with the multitude and waited for the appearance of the seven, as the deacons were now commonly called. They appeared at last, laden with the day's alms, and began to make distribution among the waiting poor. Iddo noticed that Stephen's face was very pale, and that blue shadows lay beneath his dark eyes. He smiled evilly. "He is afraid," he sneered. And being now determined upon the course which he meant to follow, he allowed his jealous hatred of the man to spring up unchecked, and because hatred is a plant of quick and easy growth, especially when nourished by envy, it came to pass that within the half hour Ben Obed had seen every trace of love, justice and pity in his soul quite destroyed. "I hate him," he whispered to himself, clenching his fists. "I care not what they do with him. I hate him."

The distribution took an unusually long time that morning, and Iddo noticed with a scowl how that all the poor widows and little children lingered for a word with the youngest of the seven--Stephen, the well-loved of the poor, as he was often called.

"Hypocrite!" said Iddo beneath his breath. As he uttered the word he was startled to feel a light touch on his shoulder; turning quickly, his eye fell upon the messenger appointed by Caleb.

"'Tis the time," said the man with a wink. "Bring him outside now; I will be at hand should you need help."

Ben Obed nodded. He could not trust himself to speak, the hatred had grown so mighty that it struggled to cry out. He approached Stephen cautiously, and laid his hand upon his arm.

"There is one--who is ailing--at my house," he said with difficulty. "Wilt thou come with me?"

Stephen looked up with a smile. "Peace be with thee, Ben Obed, and to all that are within thy house; yes, I will come with thee, but let me first speak with this woman, who hath patiently waited for me since the beginning of the distribution. What is it that thou wouldst ask of me, woman?"

"I have brought hither my babe," answered the woman in a low, anxious voice. "He doth not wake and smile on me as formerly, but only sleeps. Surely it is not well with him."

"If he sleep he shall do well," said Stephen, unconsciously quoting the words of his Master when told of the sickness of Lazarus. "And if God will that he wake in heaven, then wouldst thou have a child growing to manhood among the angels. Dost thou not covet this for thy child?"

"Nay, for I love him too much to wish him out of my arms," said the mother, dashing the bright drops from her eyes; "and I have not seen heaven."

"My business with thee is urgent," whispered Ben Obed imperatively. Stephen did not seem to have heard. He laid his hand on the child's head, "Thy will concerning this little one be done, O Father, in the name of Jesus."

"But thou hast not asked for his healing!" cried the mother.

"I have asked for the best that heaven holds for him, or for any one of us," said Stephen gently. "But see, thy child hath awakened," then he turned to Ben Obed. "I will go with thee," he said simply, but there was that in his eyes that caused Iddo to drop his own to the earth.

Once on the street Stephen walked swiftly, so swiftly that Ben Obed had some difficulty in keeping up with him. He exchanged glances with the messenger of Caleb who was following at a discreet distance, and the man rapidly overtook them.

"We will go this way," said Ben Obed in a hard voice. But Stephen was silent. Something in his still face angered the young man at his side beyond control. "Why dost thou not speak?" he cried in a choked voice, scarce knowing what he said.

"There are times when silence is more excellent than speech," said Stephen.

Ben Obed cursed the temple under his breath, then he grasped his companion by the arm. "At least I am not a hypocrite," he said violently. "I have been commanded to fetch thee before the Council of the Sanhedrim that thou mayest answer for thy heresies. And I am going to do my duty. Lay not the consequences of thine own despicable folly at my door."

"I had not expected this at thy hands," said Stephen with a look of full understanding. "I had rather that it had been another--but it matters not." There was a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke the last words.

Ben Obed laughed aloud. "Thou wouldst rather that it were another, for then mightest thou hope to escape; but it is not another, it is I, Ben Obed, and because thou hast cheated me out of the woman I love, I--hate thee."

Stephen was silent. The twain, followed by the ill-omened messenger, presently came to the temple enclosure. Without a word Ben Obed hurried his companion through the crowded courts, neither heeding the curious looks with which they were regarded, till at length they stood before the closed door of the great Chamber of Council, called also the "Hall of Squares."

Caleb with a detachment of temple police stood on guard. He was looking anxious and worn, but his eye brightened as it fell upon Stephen. Motioning to the guard to close in around the prisoner, he himself listened at the closed door; presently he laid a cautious hand upon the fastening and with an air of deep solemnity introduced his head into the sacred apartment. Apparently receiving some signal from within, he immediately withdrew it. "Pass in," he said briskly, laying a compelling hand upon Stephen's shoulder.

There was an awful stillness in the great room as the two entered, followed by the lesser officers, who ranged themselves on either side of the accused man. Then a murmur ran about the circle. At the sound Stephen raised his eyes and looked calmly about him. These were the men who had slain his Lord; they would also slay him--he knew it--and yet the knowledge brought with it only a singular joy. "They hate me, because I am like him," he said within himself, and the glory of that thought became visible upon his face.

Jonathan, the High Priest, was speaking now; with an effort the prisoner compelled himself to listen. "Thou art arraigned before this sacred assembly and Senate of Israel on the charge of blasphemously speaking against Jehovah; against this most Holy Temple; and against the laws and institutions of Moses and of the Prophets, ordained by Jehovah to speak his pleasure to the children of men. We shall hear these charges confirmed by witnesses, according to our laws which thou hast despised, but which thou shalt tread under foot no longer with impunity. Fetch the first witness.--Dost thou, Ezek, recognize in this man that Stephen who hath blasphemed God, the temple, and the law?"

"I do, most worshipful and High Priest of Jehovah. This is the man."

"Tell us now what thou hast heard him say."

"I have heard him say that the malefactor, Jesus of Nazareth, who of late died the accursed death, after having been duly and righteously convicted of his crimes before this most sacred Council--I have heard him declare, that this man was Jehovah made manifest in the flesh. And that therefore his precepts and commands are more binding than the precepts of Moses, who was a sinful man like unto ourselves."

"Hast thou heard him say aught concerning the temple?"

"I have heard him say that the Nazarene shall shortly return to destroy this place, so that not one stone shall remain upon another, and that all things which Moses commanded shall be done away. The Gentiles moreover and them that are alien shall see these things and rejoice, for that this Jesus shall hereafter come in the clouds of heaven and gather his elect from the uttermost parts of the earth. The Nazarenes have the intent moreover to possess the earth, and to overthrow all powers and governments and all gods that have ever ruled among men, to the end that they may establish the man Jesus upon the throne of power."

"Didst thou hear the man declare these things?"

"I did, most sacred High Priest."

"Enough!--Iddo Ben Obed, thou mayest stand forth. Dost thou know this man?"

"I do, my lord."

Stephen looked up at the sound of this voice, and a keen spasm of pain swept across his face.

"Look at him!" whispered Issachar to his neighbor. "He evidently fears this witness more than the other--though his testimony was sufficiently damning."

"And what hast thou to say concerning him?" continued the monotonous voice of the High Priest.

"He hath spoken blasphemously against Moses and against this holy place, even as hath already been said in your hearing, declaring that God regardeth neither this temple nor the holy city of Jerusalem, inasmuch as the Lord Jesus did in his lifetime pronounce against them anathema; he also----"

"Hold! How is it that thou dost call the Nazarene Lord? Art thou also one of them?"

The witness turned pale. He cast a murderous look at Stephen. "No," he said fiercely. "I but repeat the word which these men make use of in their blasphemous harangues to the people; the words slipped from me unawares."

"Proceed."

"He hath declared that neither by laws of man's devising nor by temples of man's building can Jehovah be pleased. That all these things shall be brought to naught; but that the words of the Nazarene shall remain."

"Enough! There is no need for further testimony. Let the accused stand forth."

Stephen obeyed. And all that sat in the Council, looking steadfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE LIFTED VEIL.

Then said the High Priest, after the manner of the formal procedure, "Are these things so?"

And Stephen, looking about on the seventy men before whom he stood, the heads and leaders of that forlorn remnant of the chosen people, desolate because of their rebellion against the God who had borne with them so long and patiently, was moved to bring again the wonderful promises of Jehovah to their minds. So plain did it all appear to him, filled as he was with that spirit of light which the Lord had vouchsafed according to his word, and which he had also promised to pour out freely upon all men. A glorious hope was stirring in his breast as he looked from one to the other of the stern faces before him. Hatred indeed and stubborn self-satisfaction he saw written thereon, but what could stand before the all-powerful spirit of truth? What if it should be granted him to mightily convince these men; to see, perchance, some such glorious exhibition of God's grace as had been manifested at Pentecost.

"Men, brethren and fathers, hearken!" he began, and at the sound of that inspired voice every eye was fastened upon him. "The God of glory appeared unto our father Abraham and said unto him: 'Get thee out of thy land and from thy kindred, and come into the land which I shall show thee.' Then came he out of the land of the Chaldæans and dwelt in Haran; and from thence, when his father was dead, God removed him into this land, wherein ye now dwell. He gave him no inheritance in it, not even so much as to set his foot upon; but he promised that he would give it to him and to the generations after him, when as yet he had no child.

"And God spake thus unto him, 'Thy children shall sojourn in a strange land, and they shall be enslaved and evil entreated for the space of four hundred years. But the nation which hath persecuted them I will judge; I, Jehovah, have declared it. And after that shall thy children come forth out of bondage and they shall serve me in this place.' And he gave him the covenant of circumcision. And so Abraham after that Isaac was born, circumcised him on the eighth day. And to Isaac in due time was born Jacob; Jacob also had twelve sons, whom we call the patriarchs. And the patriarchs, moved with jealousy against Joseph their brother, sold him into Egypt. Nevertheless God was with him, and delivered him out of all his afflictions, and gave him favor and wisdom before Pharaoh, King of Egypt, insomuch that Pharaoh made him governor over all the land.

"Now there came a mighty famine, which extended throughout all Egypt and Canaan, and the people were wasted by it. Our fathers also had no food, but Jacob, hearing that there was corn in Egypt, sent forth his sons to fetch some. And when that was consumed which they brought, they went again the second time; and Joseph made himself known unto his brethren, and he brought them into the presence of Pharaoh. After that, Joseph sent for Jacob his father, and for all his kindred, numbering in all three score and fifteen souls. They went therefore into the land of Egypt, and Jacob died there, and in due time the patriarchs, our fathers, also; and they were buried in Shechem, in the land which Abraham had bought for a burial place.

"But as the time of the promise drew nigh, which God had given unto Abraham, the people grew and multiplied, till there arose another king over Egypt which knew not Joseph.

"The new king dealt deceitfully with our nation, wickedly compelling our fathers that they should cast out their babes to die. At this time Moses was born, and he was beautiful in the sight of God. Three months was he nourished in his father's house, and when he was cast out, Pharaoh's daughter rescued him and brought him up as her own son. So Moses was instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and he became mighty in word and deed.

"Now when he was well nigh forty years of age, it came into his heart to visit his brethren, the children of Israel. And seeing one of them suffer wrong, he defended him, and avenged him that was oppressed, smiting the Egyptian that he died--supposing that his brethren would understand how that God by his hand was giving them deliverance; but they understood not. And the day following he came again upon two of them at strife, and urged them to be at peace, saying:--

"'Sirs, ye are brethren; why do ye wrong one another?'

"But he that did his neighbor wrong thrust him away, saying, 'Who made thee a ruler and a judge over us? Wouldst thou kill me, as thou didst kill the Egyptian yesterday?'

"And Moses fled at this saying, and became an exile in the land of Midian. Here he took to himself a wife, and two sons were born to him. And when forty years had passed, an angel appeared to him as he wandered one day in the wilderness of Sinai; and the angel was as a burning flame of fire in a bush of the mountain--the bush burned, yet was not consumed. When Moses saw it, he wondered at the sight; and as he drew near to behold, there came a voice of the Lord, saying:

"'I am the God of thy fathers, the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob.'

"Then Moses trembled, and hid his face, and the Lord said unto him:

"'Loose the shoes from thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their groaning, and I am come down to deliver them. Now come, I will send thee into Egypt.'

"So it came to pass that this very Moses, whom the people of Israel had refused, saying, 'Who made thee a ruler and a judge?' God sent to be both a ruler and a deliverer, by the hand of the angel which appeared to him in the bush. And this man, Moses, led the Israelites forth, working great signs and wonders in Egypt, and in the Red Sea, and in the wilderness, for the space of forty years.

"This is that Moses which said unto the children of Israel, 'A prophet shall God raise up unto you from among your brethren like unto me.' This is that Moses that was with the people in the wilderness, with the angel which spake to him in the Mount of Sinai, who also received the law at the hands of the living God to give unto us. But our fathers refused him their obedience, and thrust him away from them, turning back in their hearts unto Egypt and saying unto Aaron:

"'Make us gods which shall go before us, for as for this Moses, which led us forth out of the land of Egypt, we wot not what is become of him.' Then made they for themselves a golden calf, and brought a sacrifice unto the idol, rejoicing in the works of their hands.

"But God turned, and gave them up to serve the host of heaven; as it is written in the book of the prophets:

"'Did ye offer unto me slain beasts and sacrifices forty years in the wilderness, O house of Israel? And afterward ye took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of the god Rephan, the figures which ye made to worship them. I will carry you away beyond Babylon.'

"Our fathers had the tabernacle of the testimony in the wilderness, according to the covenant of God unto Moses, who fashioned it like unto the figure that was revealed unto him. This tabernacle also our fathers brought into the promised land, when they entered it with Joshua, God thrusting out the heathen nations from before their faces, and in it they worshipped unto the days of David, who, finding favor in the sight of God, asked that he might build a habitation for the God of Jacob. And Solomon, his son, built a temple. Howbeit the Most High dwelleth not in houses made with hands; as saith the prophet--

"'The heaven is my throne,

And the earth the footstool of my feet;

What manner of house will ye build me? saith the Lord,

Or what is the place of my rest?

Did not my hands make all things?'"

Here the speaker paused and looked about upon the faces of his audience; some were sneering outright, others whispering to their neighbors, while others still regarded him with looks of malignant hatred. Not one of all the seventy had apprehended his meaning, he thought bitterly. Not one cared for his words. Of what use to continue the sublime retrospect. A wave of fiery indignation swept away the last remnant of fear, and in a voice ringing with inspired passion, he burst out:

"Ye stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! Ye do always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do ye. Which of the prophets did not your fathers persecute? And they killed them which showed before of the coming of the Righteous One, of whom ye have now become the betrayers and murderers. Ye who received the law as it was ordained by angels and kept it not!"

For an instant there was a breathless silence, that mighty arrow tipped with a living fire had found lodgment in every heart. Then a low, murderous hiss ran about the circle. With one accord the assembly rose to their feet, but some invisible power held them back.

Stephen, the despised follower of the crucified Nazarene, was looking up steadfastly. Angels had lifted for him the dark veil of mortality; the hall of judgment and the faces of his infuriated judges faded from before his eyes; he saw instead the unspeakable glories of the New Jerusalem, God enthroned amid innumerable companies of angels, and Jesus standing with outstretched hands to receive him. In an ecstasy of joy he cried out:

"Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God!"

Only a glimpse, but what mattered it now to him that the dark flood of hatred had broken loose and was sweeping him away with wild tumult towards certain death. He did not see the infuriated mob of his executioners; he scarce realized that he was being dragged through the streets followed by a yelling multitude, roused from their apathy by the familiar scent of blood.

"Beyond the gates--it is the law!"

"This is the place--here are stones in abundance! Quick! or the Nazarenes will be to the rescue."

"Let the witnesses cast the first stones--it is the law!"

"Well thrown, Esek! Again--here is a larger one! Now the other, quickly!"

But the other witness, with face as white as that of the dying man, had broken through the circle and fled away shrieking towards the city--"My God! my God! they are killing him!"

"Let be, the law is fulfilled. Quick, or he will yet be rescued--the mob is increasing. What is that he is saying?" For the victim, blood-stained, faltering, had dragged himself to his knees.

"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."

A shower of stones and fierce yells; he is sinking, but again he speaks. Saul can hear it, for he stands near, guarding the garments of them that are fulfilling the law. They can all hear, for he cries in a loud voice, that his murderers may remember it afterward for the comfort of their guilty souls:

"Lord, lay not this sin to their charge." And when he had said this, he fell asleep.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE WATCHFUL LOVE.

Anat was spinning in the cool shadow of the house; the stones of the little court had been newly washed, and a refreshing odor of cleanliness mingled with the fragrance which poured out from the snowy bells of the lilies beside the cistern. Close to her feet snuggled the three small brown children, listening while she sang. After a time the singer faltered a little; she was chanting the Psalm of the Watchful Love:

"Jehovah is thy keeper,

Jehovah thy abode on thy right hand;

The sun shall not hurt thee by day,

Neither the moon by night."

She paused. What was that deep, dull roar? Her face paled a little.

"Sing!" cried the boy imperatively, pulling at her robe.

"Sing!" echoed the baby, looking up at her with his soft, starry eyes.

As for the little maiden, she contented herself with softly stroking the girl's sandaled foot.

"Jehovah keep thee from all evil."

Yes, she could surely hear a sound of tumult--what could it be?

"He will keep thy life,

--"O my God! Keep him--keep him!--

"Jehovah keep thy coming and thy going

Henceforth and forever!"

The singer started to her feet with a cry. The street door had burst open violently, a man rushed in, ghastly, breathless, with wild staring eyes; she at first failed to recognize Ben Obed.

"My God! they are killing him!"

"Where?"

"Outside the Damascus Gate--they are stoning him!"

Anat stood for an instant like some beautiful soulless statue of despair. Then a wild fire leapt to her eyes.

"Tell them!" she said, and fled away out of the open door, away--away toward the Damascus Gate.

Women stared after her, men stretched forth their hands to grasp her, but she heeded them not; her feet seemed leaden, the minutes hours. The Damascus Gate--would she ever reach it? Again and again Ben Obed's awful cry sounded in her ears:

"My God! they are killing him!"

The gate--the gate at last; but it is choked with people coming in. Men, she dimly saw, men with long robes and broad phylacteries; men to whom the gate-keepers did reverence while they shrank back with involuntary fear. Men who drew away from her white robe and whiter face muttering, "A mad woman--a mad dog!"

At last she has struggled through them, outside the Damascus Gate at last. Where--where? Yes, yonder is a crowd, it must be there.

"Let me through, for God's sake! Let me through!"

Staring stupidly at her, the crowd separated. There upon the ground, half-hidden under a pile of stones, lay--something. She threw herself upon her knees, pulling madly at the rough, broken rock with her delicate fingers. Then she gave a long, heart-broken scream and fell forward in merciful unconsciousness.

* * * * *

"My daughter." There was no answer, though the black eyes were wide open. Mary hesitated an instant, her sad lips moved in prayer. "Anat, my child," she said, softly. "Wilt thou not look once more upon his face before they bear him hence. I would that thou see for thy comfort that God hath set upon him the visible seal of his love, in that the peace that passeth understanding is writ thereon."

The girl rose feebly. "Take me to him," she said, putting out her hand.

And Mary led her into the peaceful chamber where they had laid him. The afternoon sun shot long rays of splendor across the face on the pillow, beautiful with the beauty of youth and of holiness, and touched with the sublimer beauty of death. The look that he had worn when he cried out at sight of Jesus waiting to receive him yet lingered there, his face was as the face of an angel who slept.

"For so he giveth his beloved sleep," murmured Mary, who stood at her side. At that word the maiden turned and the pent-up fountain of her tears broke forth. And the two wept together--but not as those without hope.

And so as the sad hours crept by, devout men carried forth the dead Stephen to his burial, making great lamentation over him. And the poor to whom he had daily ministered, and them that he had healed and comforted from all the city and the country round about followed him to the tomb; and the streets of the city were filled with the sound of the wailing and loud crying.

As for the men which had done this thing, they hid themselves; and some of them exulted because that an enemy was dead, and some were ashamed, while others still--amongst them Saul of Tarsus--listened to the sound of the wailing, and shook their fists.

"It is the beginning of lamentations for such as blaspheme the law," said these. "To-morrow they will forget this dead man in the multitude of their own distresses."

In the house of John, the family sat that evening on the house-top as was their wont, and they talked together of him that had gone; and while they mourned indeed they also rejoiced, for they knew that he had fought a good fight, and that while the earth-clouds hung dark and threatening above their heads, this beloved one had passed through and beyond and was safe forever more.

John remembered the words of Jesus how on that last night he had said to them, "Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, and I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."

While he yet spake, another came suddenly into their midst, a ghastly, despairing figure, his garments hanging in rags about him, his face torn and bleeding. And as they looked in amazement and affright, the man spoke and his voice was hoarse and weak, as of one who had wept many hours.

"I am a dying man," he said, "for I will expiate my guilt before to-morrow's sun rise upon the earth. But first I must confess before you what I have done, then if thou wilt slay me for it I shall rejoice, in that I shall be spared the further guilt of taking my own wretched life."

"Ben Obed!" cried Anat, with a sudden premonition of what he was about to confess.

"Yes, Ben Obed, apostate--false witness--false friend--murderer." And he poured out in rapid disjointed sentences the story of his part in that awful day's work. There was silence when he had finished, and the wretched man turned blindly as if to go away, but John laid a detaining hand upon his arm.

"Stay," he said, and there was the boundless love and forgiveness of Jesus in his voice. "Thou hast indeed sinned, and grievously, but he forgave thee at the last, even as did Christ when he prayed for them that slew him. And thinkest thou not that he would bid thee live--live to carry on the task which he has left unfinished?"

"I am unworthy," groaned Ben Obed.

"Which of us is worthy?" said Peter. "Behold, I denied the Lord himself with curses, yet he bade me care for the church, saying unto me, 'Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not. And when thou art converted strengthen thy brethren.' I wot that this word was not for me only, but for all them that have been tempted beyond that they can bear."

And when Ben Obed heard this, he fell on his knees weeping, and they all prayed with him that he might yet be restored and his sins forgiven. When presently he rose up, his face was full of hope. "Behold," he cried, "the Lord hath forgiven me, for the burden hath been eased from off my soul. Yet must I go away from this place whither the spirit shall lead me." Then he turned to Anat. "Canst thou also forgive?" he asked, and his voice trembled.

The maiden was silent, but only for a moment. She rose in her place, and stretched out her hand toward the young man. "I forgive thee," she said slowly, "as I know he would have me forgive."

Ben Obed kissed the extended hand humbly, then he went away whither the Spirit led him, and no one of them saw his face more while they lived. But in after years John heard of one who preached Christ among the slaves of Alexandria, suffering many things for Christ's sake, and at the last dying beneath the scourge. The name of this man was Ben Obed, so said the pilgrim who told the thing.

CHAPTER XXX.

A FLASK OF CRYSTAL.

"The beasts are gone, and there is an end of it; but I care not."

"Thou wouldst have told a different tale not many years since." And the speaker laughed. "Poof! I am cold," he continued, stooping to stir the fire. "We might as well have gone back before the sun set; there is no fuel here."

The other man shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and spread his lean fingers over the scanty fire. But he said nothing; after a time his companion spoke again in a slow, meditative way, as if to himself:

"My lord will say this: 'A poorer than I hath need of the beasts, therefore he hath taken them. Would that he had asked me, and I would have given him freely; nevertheless if he hath need, it is in itself sufficient to excuse the deed.'"

"Verily," broke in the other with a sneer, "and because of this senile madness the tribe waxes poorer day by day. Abu Ben Hesed is a fool! I, Ben Kish, say so. What inheritance will my sons have that is worth the having if these things continue?"

"Senile madness, dost thou call it? And what says Ben Abu, who succeeds as chief when the old man shall be gathered to his fathers?"

"I have no dealings with him," answered Ben Kish sullenly. "He harps continually on the same string. 'Do this because the Nazarene commanded it. Forbear the other because the Nazarene declared that it was wrong.' What do I care for this dead Nazarene or his sayings? Moreover I do not believe the tales that they tell of him, nor do any believe in Judæa, save them that be poor and have nothing to lose thereby. I asked concerning the thing when I went up to Jerusalem of a great Rabbi, whom I saw in the temple. I had paid my vows and offered my sacrifice according to the law, and I heard the man speaking to the people concerning this new doctrine of the Nazarene. 'Blasphemous,' he called it; 'a cunning device of Satan to entrap the foolish of heart, and above all, contrary to the law of Moses.' Moreover, them that practise these unlawful sayings in Jerusalem are shortly to be dealt with."

"Said he so indeed?" exclaimed the other man, who was called Simeon. "Then is it something more than senile madness that doth ail our worshipful lord; the devil himself hath a hand in it."

"Listen," said Ben Kish, leaning toward his companion, "I am minded to tell thee what he further said to me in private. Swear to me that thou wilt not reveal it?"

"By the temple!" cried Simeon readily.

Ben Kish looked behind him and on either side as if he feared that some one might be lurking near. The glimmering wastes of desert showed vast and empty, stretching away beneath the keen sparkle of countless stars; the night wind wandering in the hollow darkness cried aloud for loneliness; the crouching camels stared at the meagre fire and chewed their cuds in drowsy contentment. "I have a feeling that some one is near--and listening," he said, shivering a little, and throwing a fresh handful of fuel on the dying fire.

The other man laughed, but he also shivered. "There is always that feeling in the desert at night," he said. "It must be the stars, that look down like large eyes out of heaven; or the wind, that hath in it the sound of a woman wailing for her dead. But what hast thou to say to me?"

"Thou hast sworn?"

"I have sworn--and by the temple; what more wouldst thou?"

"I spoke with him concerning our chief," said Ben Kish, "of how he came up to Jerusalem and fell in with them that told him of the Nazarene, and how that since that time he doth continually exhort and preach to us concerning the man, calling him the Messiah, the Holy and Righteous One foretold by the prophets and by Moses.

"'Alas,' said the Rabbi, 'he hath been snared by evil counsels, and he will also lead away after him all that hear.'

"'He hath not so led me,' I said, 'for I believe not on a man who commands that if an enemy smite thee on one cheek, thou immediately turn to him the other that he may smite again; and if a thief take away thy camel let him have thy horse also; it is unjust!'

"'It is not only unjust; it is unlawful,' said this wise Rabbi. 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth is the law--a good law and wise.'"

"Yet must we submit to the chief of our tribe," said the man who listened, "that is also the law."

"Nay, friend," cried Ben Kish triumphantly, "listen still further. I said something of the like to the wise Rabbi, and he made me answer thus: 'The unbeliever and the blasphemer shall be cast forth and his inheritance shall be given to them which are faithful, for thus is it written in the law. If, therefore, there be them amongst you which are able, rise up and overcome this man who hath spoken thus blasphemously, and cast him forth that the inheritance be thine; so may the Lord ever prevail against false prophets and workers of iniquity.'"

"Holy Jerusalem!" exclaimed Simeon under his breath. "Smite Ben Hesed? Cast Ben Hesed forth from his own tribe? The man wot not of whom he was speaking."

"One must use discretion with such an one," admitted Ben Kish. "I have already spoken of the matter with the father of my wife. He is a wise man, as thou knowest, and he hath moreover a bitterness against Ben Hesed because that he spake severely to him of his dealings with the two Egyptian brats, whom we found half dead in the desert some years ago. The man was ready to believe the word of strangers rather than the word of his sister's son, which was unjust; Pagiel moreover hath not forgotten the matter--nor will he forget."

"If Ben Hesed be cast forth, who would then be chief?" said Simeon, drawing his beard thoughtfully through his hand and looking intently into the coals.

Ben Kish studied the face opposite him in silence for a moment before replying. "Who else should it be but Pagiel, the next of kin?" he said at length.

"And after him?"

"After him, the husband of his daughter, since his sons are both dead." And Ben Kish drew himself up proudly and looked about him as if he were already chief.

"Ah!"

"Hast thou aught to say against it?" demanded the son of Kish sharply, half involuntarily laying his hand upon the knife in his girdle. "Dost thou then prefer a chief who sends for his enemy when he hath been despoiled of him, and reasons with him forsooth, and gives him a present and soft words, instead of rising up and smiting him, as is the fashion of men since the world began? ay, and will be, despite the driveling commands of any number of false prophets. Betray me if thou wilt. Go to Ben Hesed and say: 'The son of Kish hath devised evil against thee in his heart, therefore smite him.' Would he smite me, the doting greybeard? Pah, I spit in his face!" And he leaned forward and spat venomously into the fire.

The other man laughed silently at sight of his rage. "I will not go to Ben Hesed with this tale," he said at length; "have I not sworn--and by the temple? Say on, friend, how wilt thou bring this thing to pass?"

Ben Kish looked at him suspiciously. "I will say no more," he said sullenly. "If thou wilt side with the follower of the Nazarene, who is become a fit prey for the vultures because of his blasphemous folly, well. But I tell thee that strange things will come to pass. Thou wilt see it."

"I have not said that I believe in the Nazarene," said his companion. "The old law is good; as for Ben Hesed, I----" he stopped short and stared fixedly at a certain red coal which winked sleepily at him from the midst of the fire, and from which he seemed presently to have gotten some further inward light, for he went on more briskly. "I also have an account to square with Ben Hesed, therefore thou mayest speak freely with me; I promise thee that I will help on the lawful issue in this matter, and that right diligently."

"Dost thou swear this?"

"By the soul of my father; by the God of the Covenant, and by the stars of heaven."

"Well then, to-morrow Ben Hesed will set forth for Jerusalem--never mind how I know, thou wilt see--he will set forth, he and certain chosen ones of his who also believe on the Nazarene; and we will remain behind in charge of the stuff--of the women, of the children, the young men, the maidens, the tents and the furniture thereof, the herds and the flocks."

"But he will return."

"He will not return, he nor any that go forth with him, nor shall any know what hath befallen him."

"And how canst thou accomplish this?"

Ben Kish looked about him once more; the stars were very bright over-head now, and the lonely wind wailed loudly in his ear; it swept away with a moan into the empty desert, the loose sand leaping up beneath the trail of its unseen garments.

"There be many things under the sun," he said at length, his face whitening a little--"of which thou hast not heard, and of which I have heard only a moon since. This is one of them." And he drew from his breast a tiny flask of crystal, filled with a colorless liquid. "I have but to drop the contents of this flask into water," he whispered, leaning forward, and laying his hand upon his companion's breast, "and they that drink thereof will sleep--sleep sound and long."

"What meanest thou?" exclaimed the other, drawing back into the friendly darkness.

"They will wake no more who drink, either for war or peace; the desert shall work its will upon them who have trodden under foot the law."

CHAPTER XXXI.

A SCARLET THREAD.

"These matters whereof thou hast spoken to us are good, my lord; of the truth of them am I well convinced, because of thy wisdom in showing forth the prophecies which are writ by the hand of holy and righteous men in the Scriptures," and Pagiel bowed himself before Ben Hesed with a solemn countenance.

Ben Hesed laid aside the parchment roll from which he had been reading, and a smile of exceeding sweetness dawned in his keen eyes. "My heart is rejoiced, son of my sister," he said gently, "because thou hast believed these wondrous tidings. It shall be well with thee, both in this present world and in the world to come; even as our glorified Lord hath declared, 'Blessed is he that hath not seen and yet hath believed.' Would that every one in this company of ours could also find the light."

"'In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established,' as is it written, my lord. If now of those holy men who consorted with the Nazarene in his life-time, one could come into the desert and preach to us of him that was crucified there would remain not one of us all who should not believe."

"I have thought of that--many times," said Ben Hesed, drawing his heavy brows together. "Surely I ought to do this thing, that all they that dwell in this land may hear the good tidings of this exceeding great joy. To my enemy also could be preached the words of love and good will, then would peace reign in the desert. His will should be done on earth even as in heaven, no more shedding of blood, no more strife, no more hatred. And why indeed should not these things be?" and the speaker's face glowed. "It is most simple--most easy. We have but to obey--obey exactly the words of the holy Jesus."

"Most easy--most simple," murmured Pagiel, rolling up his eyes sanctimoniously. "It will doubtless soon come to pass; then will the lion lie down with the lamb, even as it is written."

"I will do it," cried Ben Hesed, "and I will set forth without delay. Some one of them can surely be spared, if not of the apostles, the young man Stephen, a most learned, most holy one. I will also fetch the two Egyptians, who will by this time have grown wise in the faith. Thou wilt love them now, my Pagiel, because of the love of Christ in thy heart. Love is the fulfilling of the law."

"Assuredly!" cried the other, with a venomous gleam in his eye, "the fulfilling of the law; very good--very true. We must all think of the law."

"We need think of but two laws now, God be praised," said Ben Hesed. "Even as it was declared by the Crucified One, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.'"

"Wilt thou that I command the beasts to be made ready for the start?" suggested Pagiel with an impatient glance at Ben Hesed's abstracted face. "On such an errand there can scarce be too great speed."

"Thou art right. Make ready, and at once; I will take thee with me, also my sons, and ten men which are skilled with the bow, since it may be that we fall in with evil company by the way."

"Resist not evil, as saith the Nazarene," quoth Pagiel piously. "Will it not be better, my lord, to leave me in charge of the women and little ones, since I am next of kin to my lord?"

Ben Hesed looked sharply into the meek face of Pagiel. "I will leave thee in charge," he said; but he looked thoughtfully at the man more than once within the hour.

As for Pagiel, he was glad because that the eye of man is not able to read the heart. He laughed within himself as, with the help of Ben Kish, he made ready the beasts of burden and the provisions, for he thought that his day was come. And he laughed yet again aloud when Ben Hesed set forth on his journey, taking with him his two sons together with ten men who were skillful with the bow.

His wife heard him laugh as he stood in the door of the tent, and she asked him, "What is it that hath pleased the heart of my lord?"

"To every man cometh a time to rejoice," he made answer, "and long enough have I eaten out my heart in bitterness. Make ready now a supper, for we will feast this night." Then he turned to his son-in-law. "Where is Simeon?"

"Nay, I know not," answered Ben Kish. "He is perhaps with the herds."

"Go and fetch him," commanded Pagiel.

Ben Kish made search for the man Simeon; but he found him not, neither with the herds nor anywhere about the encampment. "The man is gathering fuel," he said scowling, "or he hath gone perchance after some wild beast to slay it." But at the setting of the sun Simeon had not returned. Nor did he come that night.

"I hope," said Ben Kish, "that a wild beast hath slain him."

All that day Ben Hesed, with his two sons and the ten men who were skilful with the bow, made haste on their journey and stayed not. "For," said Ben Hesed, "I should have done this thing many moons since; I alone am not sufficient for the work."

At evening an encampment was made so that they might rest and be refreshed. As the servants were gathering fuel for the fires, one of them saw a man running toward the place where they were, and he went and told Ben Hesed, saying, "Behold, we have seen an appearance as of a man running. How can this be, seeing that we are already a day's journey in the wilderness?"

But even as he told the thing, the runner approached the encampment, and he fell on his face before Ben Hesed.

"It is Simeon," said Ben Hesed. "Raise him up and give him water that he may speak. He hath perchance evil tidings."

So they raised him up and offered him water, but he would not drink until he had seen the skin from which the water was taken; then he drank deep and long.

"What doth this mean," said Ben Hesed, "art thou then smitten with madness, or hast thou tidings of evil?"

"Tidings of evil, alas, my lord," said Simeon, bowing himself before his chief. And he told Ben Hesed all that the son of Kish had said; also how that he had showed him the crystal flask in the desert by night. "The water-skin wherein the potion was mingled is marked," he said. "I went away by stealth into the desert that I might meet thee as thou camest out, but it chanced that thou camest out by another way, and I was not able to overtake thee till now." He showed them, moreover, the water-skin bound with a scarlet thread about its nozzle.

Ben Hesed rose up after that Simeon had told him all, and he went away into the desert alone for the space of three hours, that he might take counsel with the Almighty concerning the thing. When he returned he called four of the strong men unto him, and he said to them, "The moon is full to-night, therefore get ye up and make haste to return to the encampment. And when thou art returned seek out Pagiel and the son of Kish and say to them: 'My lord hath commanded the presence of you both that he may speak unto you concerning a matter of importance.' Say no more than this to the men, and if they come with you willingly, well, but if they will not come, then fetch them straightway. We will remain in this place until thou shalt return."