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Authors: Thomas B. Costain

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The Silver Chalice (44 page)

BOOK: The Silver Chalice
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They got to their feet and walked to the tent. Sarah, who was busily packing, left at a word from her mistress. The old chest stood at one side, almost hidden under bundles of clothing. Deborra raised the lid, and Luke drew out the Cup from its resting place.

The canvas flap had been drawn over the entrance, so there was almost complete darkness inside the tent. No one spoke or moved. It was Adam who broke the silence finally.

“I can see nothing,” he said. “Can we not have some light?”

Luke threw back enough of the canvas to admit light. It was then possible to see the tent pole and the chest and the bundles piled up above it. The Cup was visible against this background, a battered drinking vessel lacking in beauty of design.

All three studied it in a silence that lasted the better part of a minute. Adam was again the first to speak.

“It is very plain,” he said.

“Yes, it is plain,” agreed Luke. “It would bring a small price if offered for sale as a drinking cup.”

“I expected it to be different, though I cannot tell you in what way. I must have thought there would be something remarkable about it.” Adam’s voice suggested that he was not only surprised but a little resentful. “I have seen cups just like this in the huts of shepherds. And in the poorest of inns.”

“Yes. In the huts of shepherds and the poorest of inns.”

“Well,” said Adam after a final pause, “I have seen it. You had better put it away now so the packing can be finished. We must be on our way.”

When they emerged from the tent into the surrounding dusk and Adam proceeded to busy himself with the details of moving, Deborra looked up at Luke with eyes that were misted in wonder.

“I saw it!” she whispered. “When the tent was so dark. I could see the Cup as clearly as I could later. I think there was a light shining from it and yet I could see nothing else. It was very strange. It was so strange that I wondered if it was all my imagination.”

“No, my child. There was a light shining from it. You saw the Cup and so did I. I saw it once before. When it was first entrusted to me by your grandfather and I took it in great fear to the room in the warehouse where Basil was hiding. It shone then with the same strange and holy light.”

“But Adam saw nothing at all.”

“Adam is lacking in faith. He is a man of great honesty and integrity, but he does not believe in Jesus and there is in him a tendency to scoff. I am sure, my child, that the radiance of the Cup is only in the eye that looks upon it. If you have faith, it glows for you with this serene light. If you lack faith, it is—well, as Adam said, it is then a very plain cup.”

They proceeded to pace up and down together while the preparations for departure went on about them. “This is something I have often discussed,” said Luke, “with the others. Those who were with the Master in His wanderings saw many miraculous things. I have been close to Paul and I have no doubt that great powers have been conferred on him and on Peter. But this I may tell you: there have been few miracles.”

The stars were beginning to show in the sky. Luke paused and gazed up at them. “We know so little about the God Who made the world and the heavens and Who rules our destinies. Men have seen Him, but He always appeared to them in the guise of a man like themselves. We cannot conceive how He will look when He sits on His judgment seat. We do not know where He abides, although it seems certain that it is somewhere up above us. It must be far above the clouds and the stars. There He sits and everything moves at His nod. Do you find it hard to believe that the great and omnipotent God, in His might and sometimes in His wrath, can spread out a hand and bring a miracle to pass?

“And yet I am sure He would never have found it necessary to have miracles happen except for one thing. The children of Israel expected their Messiah to come like a king, another David. It is hard for them to accept a humble carpenter instead. And so perhaps the wise and all-seeing Jehovah thought He would assist their stumbling faith with proofs that would be startling.

“But, my child,” he went on, “we cannot expect Jehovah to give so much time to our weaknesses and our puny needs that He will keep His hand stretched out to lend us aid. Instead of ruling us by miracles, He has infused in us certain qualities that enable us to accomplish the divine purposes by ourselves—faith, loyalty, courage, tolerance. It is by the faith in us that we become Christians, and it is because of our faith that we are sometimes rewarded with proof that God watches us and is pleased. I am sure that was why we were allowed to see the holy Cup in the darkness of the tent. It was not fancy, not a trick of the imagination. We saw it—clearly, unmistakably, wonderfully! But Adam’s eyes, which had no faith to open them, saw nothing until light was admitted into the tent; and then all he perceived was an old cup that was very plain.

“Those with whom I have worked,” he continued after a pause, “have realized that we must not stand by and wait for God to accomplish by a miracle what we should do by applying the powers He has stored inside us. Power for good has been in men all through the ages, but the coming of Jesus was needed to release these qualities in us. Because of this, men and women are enduring all things for their faith, even the cruelest of deaths. As belief in Jesus grows and spreads, the faith of men will become the greatest force in the world.”

“Do you mean,” she asked, “that faith gives us all, even the humblest of us, a share of the divine?”

Luke nodded his head gravely. “That is what I believe, my child. But our mortal minds will always remain incapable of comprehending the purpose of God. The truth has been revealed in some part to Peter and Paul and we must, therefore, follow them in all humility, listening to what they say, believing what they believe. We must be happy that it is in us to use this faith and to accept these great truths.”

There was a moment’s pause. “What of Basil?” asked Deborra. “I mean, what happened when you first saw the light of the Cup?”

It was so dark now that they had to walk slowly and take each step with caution. Deborra could not see the look of satisfaction which lighted up the face of her companion. “Basil perceived it,” he affirmed. “He had not reached any belief in Jesus at the time. He was still groping in the dark. But he saw the light as clearly as I did. His mind is like a rich loam. The seed has been planted, and it will not be long before the power of faith will sprout, and grow, and blossom.”

Adam took his stand at the head of the line of camels. With a flourish he raised the
hozazra
to his lips and sounded an urgent call. “Hurry!”
the trumpet said. “The cool hours are here for our use. The long trail stretches ahead. To your saddles! Hurry! Hurry!”

2

A man with intense black eyes and a voice like a trumpet was talking to a circle of listeners in a corner of the courtyard of the great khan outside Aleppo. “The hour draws near!” he cried. “The shackles with which Rome binds the world will soon be broken. Jerusalem is ready. The daggers are being forged for Israel’s freedom——”

Adam ben Asher turned away with a disturbed shake of the head. “How can this loud-mouth make such promises?” he said to himself. “Can the children of Israel resist the might of Rome alone? It is not hard to foresee what will happen to this man. He will die with nails through his hands and feet.”

He lingered for a moment in another corner, where a whirling dervish was displaying his weird skill to the beat of a drum and the whine of a flute-like instrument. He passed a snake charmer without a second glance and he refused to be drawn into any of the groups of eager talkers who thronged the yard. Finally he sighted the bent head of Zimiscies, the proprietor, and hurried in that direction.

Luke had remained at the entrance. He saw Adam fall into talk with the owner and then allowed his glance to take in the confusion of the yard with the warm interest of one who loves his fellow man. He also heaved a sigh of regret when some of the phrases of the impassioned orator reached his ears. It was some minutes before his eyes returned to Adam, and he was surprised to find that the latter was still talking with old Zimiscies. Adam’s face suggested that his apprehensions had been roused by what he was learning.

“Does he bear bad tidings?” Luke asked himself. He waited with mounting fear until Adam concluded his talk and made his way back through the crowded courtyard.

Adam for once was at a loss for words when he reached the entrance. He gave Luke a quick glance and then dropped his eyes.

“It seems,” he said, “that our two young men have been unfortunate.”

“What has happened?” Luke laid a supplicating hand on Adam’s arm. “What evil has befallen them?”

“Zimiscies tells me that a party of Arab bandits has been raiding hereabouts.”
Adam kept his eyes on his feet, which he shuffled about uneasily. “For a fortnight all travelers have been warned to be on the watch. Chimham was told it would be dangerous to start out at night with only one companion. But it seems they decided they could not afford to wait. They agreed to take the risk.”

There was a long pause between them. “And they were attacked by the raiders?” asked Luke finally.

“Yes. It is not known what the outcome was—whether they were made prisoners or killed. One of the Arabs was caught in Aleppo today.”

Luke’s grip on his companion’s arm tightened. “Do you think it likely that the Arabs would hold them as prisoners?”

“Only if they saw a chance to collect ransom money.” Adam paused and gave his head a dubious shake. “The Arabs are a violent lot. We must face the truth. They are more likely to kill those they rob than make prisoners of them.”

Luke lowered his eyes and began to pray under his breath. “O Jehovah, we bow to Thy will, knowing Thou art all-seeing and wise and that Thou hast a reason for everything. If these brave young men have been killed”—he choked with the emotion he was feeling and could not continue for a moment—“if they have been killed, then, O Lord, give us strength to bear our loss. We know Thou wilt have a reward for them. Look down on those who have been bereaved——”

Adam spoke unwillingly. “There is a confession I must make to you. You have seen that I have no love for this man who supplanted me. For that I offer no excuse, nor is any needed. Any other man would have felt as I did. But there is something else. I cheated him. He came to me and said he wanted to buy the two camels, and I set a very high price, thinking it would serve as a starting point and that we would arrive at a fairer price before we got through. It is true that I baited him; and when he became angry and refused to bicker with me over the price, I took his money—the full amount. There is this much to be said for me: I told him to his face that I was robbing him.” He paused and then added in a grumbling tone: “Now that
this
has happened, it weighs on my mind.”

“It is a matter of no consequence now. But I beg of you, Adam, my friend, cleanse your mind of this hate you had for him. To let any of this feeling remain in your heart will weigh against you.”

Zimiscies came hobbling across the courtyard, his head bobbing with each step. “The Arab they caught had Jewish coins in his purse,” he volunteered. “He is being questioned before the
duoviri
now. They will use
the smallest of canes, of course. The blows will be gentle—oh, very gentle indeed—but they will fall on the soles of his feet as steadily as the drip of water in an autumn shower.
Tap, tap, tap!
And after a few minutes of it a terrible agony will flow through his body. His feet will swell and become purple and he will not be able to stop himself from crying out.” The old man shook his head with relish. “I have watched them use the cane, and it is always the same. No victim of it can resist crying out to his gods to be allowed to die quickly. But this one will not tell them anything. No, they are tough and proud men, these Arabs, as proud as the gods of evil. He will die under the torture without confessing.”

“Then we cannot expect to hear anything more?” asked Luke.

Zimiscies motioned in the air with one of his far from clean hands. “The rest of them are gone with the winds. We shall hear no more. It will remain, O Venerable Teacher, one of the mysteries of the trail.”

Luke and Adam walked back slowly to where they had camped outside the walls of the khan. “One thing is clear,” said the latter. “They did not get to Antioch. By this time Aaron may have arrived to make his claim. I think it certain now that we will get nothing out of all our mad racing and scrambling.”

He was so concerned with the train of thought aroused by these speculations that he paid no attention when Zimiscies came out through the gate and called after them. It was Luke who returned to hear what the old man had to say.

“I neglected to tell you this,” said Zimiscies. “The man they caught was riding one of the stolen camels. Can you conceive of such daring and arrogance? It is said to be a valuable beast, a big brown fellow with very long legs. And it was most handsomely bedecked with shells and bells of jade.”

“Was it one of the camels belonging to our two young men?” asked Luke with a heart so heavy that he could barely formulate the words.

The old man nodded. “There can be no doubt of that.”

Adam continued to discuss the situation when Luke overtook him on reluctant feet. “We must do whatever we can. There can be no sleep tonight; let us strike camp at once and ride on. There can be no stop until we reach the city.”

“Yes, we must make a last effort,” said Luke. “And, Adam, let us keep our tongues still about this. There is no definite proof yet. It would be cruel to—to disturb her unnecessarily.”

Adam agreed with a nod of the head. The depth of emotion that
Luke’s voice had betrayed caused him, however, to study his companion with some curiosity. Luke, he saw, was pale and obviously quite shaken.

“You seem to feel this deeply,” he said.

Luke made no immediate response. He continued to walk slowly, his head lowered, his hands clenched at his sides. “I had come to love him like a son,” he said finally.

CHAPTER XIX
BOOK: The Silver Chalice
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