The road wound in close parallelism with the shore of the lake;
and when it carried the travellers down to the water's edge,
there was always on that side a shining expanse limited not far
off by the opposite shore, on which, as on this one, no tree but
the palm was permitted.
"See that," said Malluch, pointing to a giant of the place.
"Each ring upon its trunk marks a year of its life. Count them
from root to branch, and if the sheik tells you the grove was
planted before the Seleucidae were heard of in Antioch, do not
doubt him."
One may not look at a perfect palm-tree but that, with a subtlety
all its own, it assumes a presence for itself, and makes a poet of
the beholder. This is the explanation of the honors it has received,
beginning with the artists of the first kings, who could find no form
in all the earth to serve them so well as a model for the pillars
of their palaces and temples; and for the same reason Ben-Hur was
moved to say,
"As I saw him at the stand to-day, good Malluch, Sheik Ilderim
appeared to be a very common man. The rabbis in Jerusalem would
look down upon him, I fear, as a son of a dog of Edom. How came
he in possession of the Orchard? And how has he been able to hold
it against the greed of Roman governors?"
"If blood derives excellence from time, son of Arrius, then is old
Ilderim a man, though he be an uncircumcised Edomite."
Malluch spoke warmly.
"All his fathers before him were sheiks. One of them—I shall not
say when he lived or did the good deed—once helped a king who was
being hunted with swords. The story says he loaned him a thousand
horsemen, who knew the paths of the wilderness and its hiding-places
as shepherds know the scant hills they inhabit with their flocks;
and they carried him here and there until the opportunity came,
and then with their spears they slew the enemy, and set him upon
his throne again. And the king, it is said, remembered the service,
and brought the son of the Desert to this place, and bade him set up
his tent and bring his family and his herds, for the lake and trees,
and all the land from the river to the nearest mountains, were his
and his children's forever. And they have never been disturbed in
the possession. The rulers succeeding have found it policy to keep
good terms with the tribe, to whom the Lord has given increase
of men and horses, and camels and riches, making them masters of
many highways between cities; so that it is with them any time they
please to say to commerce, 'Go in peace,' or 'Stop,' and what they
say shall be done. Even the prefect in the citadel overlooking
Antioch thinks it happy day with him when Ilderim, surnamed the
Generous on account of good deeds done unto all manner of men,
with his wives and children, and his trains of camels and horses,
and his belongings of sheik, moving as our fathers Abraham and
Jacob moved, comes up to exchange briefly his bitter wells for
the pleasantness you see about us."
"How is it, then?" said Ben-Hur, who had been listening unmindful
of the slow gait of the dromedaries. "I saw the sheik tear his
beard while he cursed himself that he had put trust in a Roman.
Caesar, had he heard him, might have said, 'I like not such a
friend as this; put him away.'"
"It would be but shrewd judgment," Malluch replied, smiling.
"Ilderim is not a lover of Rome; he has a grievance. Three years
ago the Parthians rode across the road from Bozra to Damascus,
and fell upon a caravan laden, among other things, with the
incoming tax-returns of a district over that way. They slew every
creature taken, which the censors in Rome could have forgiven if
the imperial treasure had been spared and forwarded. The farmers
of the taxes, being chargeable with the loss, complained to Caesar,
and Caesar held Herod to payment, and Herod, on his part, seized
property of Ilderim, whom he charged with treasonable neglect of
duty. The sheik appealed to Caesar, and Caesar has made him such
answer as might be looked for from the unwinking sphinx. The old
man's heart has been aching sore ever since, and he nurses his
wrath, and takes pleasure in its daily growth."
"He can do nothing, Malluch."
"Well," said Malluch, "that involves another explanation, which I
will give you, if we can draw nearer. But see!—the hospitality
of the sheik begins early—the children are speaking to you."
The dromedaries stopped, and Ben-Hur looked down upon some little
girls of the Syrian peasant class, who were offering him their
baskets filled with dates. The fruit was freshly gathered, and not
to be refused; he stooped and took it, and as he did so a man in the
tree by which they were halted cried, "Peace to you, and welcome!"
Their thanks said to the children, the friends moved on at such
gait as the animals chose.
"You must know," Malluch continued, pausing now and then to dispose
of a date, "that the merchant Simonides gives me his confidence,
and sometimes flatters me by taking me into council; and as I
attend him at his house, I have made acquaintance with many of
his friends, who, knowing my footing with the host, talk to him
freely in my presence. In that way I became somewhat intimate
with Sheik IIderim."
For a moment Ben-Hur's attention wandered. Before his mind's eye
there arose the image, pure, gentle, and appealing, of Esther,
the merchant's daughter. Her dark eyes bright with the peculiar
Jewish lustre met his in modest gaze; he heard her step as when
she approached him with the wine, and her voice as she tendered
him the cup; and he acknowledged to himself again all the
sympathy she manifested for him, and manifested so plainly that
words were unnecessary, and so sweetly that words would have been
but a detraction. The vision was exceeding pleasant, but upon his
turning to Malluch, it flew away.
"A few weeks ago," said Malluch, continuing, "the old Arab called
on Simonides, and found me present. I observed he seemed much
moved about something, and, in deference, offered to withdraw,
but he himself forbade me. 'As you are an Israelite,' he said,
'stay, for I have a strange story to tell.' The emphasis on the
word Israelite excited my curiosity. I remained, and this is
in substance his story—I cut it short because we are drawing
nigh the tent, and I leave the details to the good man himself.
A good many years ago, three men called at Ilderim's tent out
in the wilderness. They were all foreigners, a Hindoo, a Greek,
and an Egyptian; and they had come on camels, the largest he had
ever seen, and all white. He welcomed them, and gave them rest.
Next morning they arose and prayed a prayer new to the sheik—a
prayer addressed to God and his son—this with much mystery besides.
After breaking fast with him, the Egyptian told who they were,
and whence they had come. Each had seen a star, out of which
a voice had bidden them go to Jerusalem and ask, Where is he
that is born King of the Jews?' They obeyed. From Jerusalem they
were led by a star to Bethlehem, where, in a cave, they found a
child newly born, which they fell down and worshipped; and after
worshipping it, and giving it costly presents, and bearing witness
of what it was, they took to their camels, and fled without pause to
the sheik, because if Herod—meaning him surnamed the Great—could
lay hands upon them, he would certainly kill them. And, faithful to
his habit, the sheik took care of them, and kept them concealed for
a year, when they departed, leaving with him gifts of great value,
and each going a separate way."
"It is, indeed, a most wonderful story," Ben-Hur exclaimed at
its conclusion. "What did you say they were to ask at Jerusalem?"
"They were to ask, 'Where is he that is born King of the Jews?'"
"Was that all?"
"There was more to the question, but I cannot recall it."
"And they found the child?"
"Yes, and worshipped him."
"It is a miracle, Malluch."
"Ilderim is a grave man, though excitable as all Arabs are. A lie
on his tongue is impossible."
Malluch spoke positively. Thereupon the dromedaries were forgotten,
and, quite as unmindful of their riders, they turned off the road
to the growing grass.
"Has Ilderim heard nothing more of the three men?" asked Ben-Hur.
"What became of them?"
"Ah, yes, that was the cause of his coming to Simonides the day of
which I was speaking. Only the night before that day the Egyptian
reappeared to him."
"Where?"
"Here at the door of the tent to which we are coming."
"How knew he the man?"
"As you knew the horses to-day—by face and manner."
"By nothing else?"
"He rode the same great white camel, and gave him the same
name—Balthasar, the Egyptian."
"It is a wonder of the Lord's!"
Ben-Hur spoke with excitement.
And Malluch, wondering, asked, "Why so?"
"Balthasar, you said?"
"Yes. Balthasar, the Egyptian."
"That was the name the old man gave us at the fountain today."
Then, at the reminder, Malluch became excited.
"It is true," he said; "and the camel was the same—and you saved
the man's life."
"And the woman," said Ben-Hur, like one speaking to himself—"the
woman was his daughter."
He fell to thinking; and even the reader will say he was having
a vision of the woman, and that it was more welcome than that
of Esther, if only because it stayed longer with him; but no—
"Tell me again," he said, presently. "Were the three to ask,
'Where is he that is to be King of the Jews?'"
"Not exactly. The words were BORN TO BE KING OF THE JEWS. Those were
the words as the old sheik caught them first in the desert, and he
has ever since been waiting the coming of the king; nor can any one
shake his faith that he will come."
"How—as king?"
"Yes, and bringing the doom of Rome—so says the sheik."
Ben-Hur kept silent awhile, thinking and trying to control his
feelings.
"The old man is one of many millions," he said, slowly—"one of
many millions each with a wrong to avenge; and this strange faith,
Malluch, is bread and wine to his hope; for who but a Herod may
be King of the Jews while Rome endures? But, following the story,
did you hear what Simonides said to him?"
"If Ilderim is a grave man, Simonides is a wise one," Malluch replied.
"I listened, and he said— But hark! Some one comes overtaking us."
The noise grew louder, until presently they heard the rumble of
wheels mixed with the beating of horse-hoofs—a moment later Sheik
I1derim himself appeared on horseback, followed by a train, among which
were the four wine-red Arabs drawing the chariot. The sheik's chin,
in its muffling of long white beard, was drooped upon his breast.
Our friends had out-travelled him; but at sight of them he raised
his head and spoke kindly.
"Peace to you!—Ah, my friend Malluch! Welcome! And tell me you
are not going, but just come; that you have something for me from
the good Simonides—may the Lord of his fathers keep him in life
for many years to come! Ay, take up the straps, both of you, and
follow me. I have bread and leben, or, if you prefer it, arrack,
and the flesh of young kid. Come!"
They followed after him to the door of the tent, in which, when they
were dismounted, he stood to receive them, holding a platter with three
cups filled with creamy liquor just drawn from a great smoke-stained
skin bottle, pendent from the central post.
"Drink," he said, heartily, "drink, for this is the fear-naught
of the tentmen."
They each took a cup, and drank till but the foam remained.
"Enter now, in God's name."
And when they were gone in, Malluch took the sheik aside, and spoke
to him privately; after which he went to Ben-Hur and excused himself.
"I have told the sheik about you, and he will give you the trial
of his horses in the morning. He is your friend. Having done for
you all I can, you must do the rest, and let me return to Antioch.
There is one there who has my promise to meet him to-night. I have
no choice but to go. I will come back to-morrow prepared, if all
goes well in the meantime, to stay with you until the games are
over."
With blessings given and received, Malluch set out in return.
What time the lower horn of a new moon touched the castellated
piles on Mount Sulpius, and two thirds of the people of Antioch
were out on their house-tops comforting themselves with the night
breeze when it blew, and with fans when it failed, Simonides sat
in the chair which had come to be a part of him, and from the
terrace looked down over the river, and his ships a-swing at
their moorings. The wall at his back cast its shadow broadly over
the water to the opposite shore. Above him the endless tramp upon
the bridge went on. Esther was holding a plate for him containing
his frugal supper—some wheaten cakes, light as wafers, some honey,
and a bowl of milk, into which he now and then dipped the wafers
after dipping them into the honey.
"Malluch is a laggard to-night," he said, showing where his
thoughts were.
"Do you believe he will come?" Esther asked.
"Unless he has taken to the sea or the desert, and is yet following
on, he will come."
Simonides spoke with quiet confidence.
"He may write," she said.
"Not so, Esther. He would have despatched a letter when he found
he could not return, and told me so; because I have not received
such a letter, I know he can come, and will."
"I hope so," she said, very softly.
Something in the utterance attracted his attention; it might have
been the tone, it might have been the wish. The smallest bird
cannot light upon the greatest tree without sending a shock to
its most distant fibre; every mind is at times no less sensitive
to the most trifling words.
"You wish him to come, Esther?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, lifting her eyes to his.