"And what say you, maid Miriam?" asked Gallus.
"I? Oh! I thank you for your thought, and I say--let us hide in any place you will, even a drain or a stable, if it will save me from Domitian."
Two hours later, in a humble and densely peopled quarter of the city, such as in our own day we should call a slum, where folk were employed making those articles which ministered to the comfort or the luxury of the more fortunate, a certain master-carpenter known as Septimus was seated at his mid-day meal in a little chamber above his workshop.
His hands were rough with toil, and the dust of his trade was upon his garments and even powdered over his long gray beard, so that at first sight it would not have been easy to recognise in him that Cyril who was a bishop among the Christians. Yet it was he, one of the foremost of the Faith in Rome.
A woman entered the room and spoke with him in a low voice.
"The dame Julia, the wife of Gallus, and two others with her?" he said.
"Well, we need fear none whom she brings; lead them hither."
Presently the door opened and Julia appeared, followed by two veiled figures. He raised his hands to bless her, then checked himself.
"Daughter, who are these?" he said.
"Declare yourselves," said Julia, and at her bidding Miriam and Nehushta unveiled.
At the sight of Miriam"s face the bishop started, then turned to study that of her companion.
"Who vouches for this woman?" he asked.
"I vouch for myself," answered Nehushta, "seeing that I am a Christian who received baptism a generation since at the hands of the holy John, and who stood to pay the price of faith in the arena at Caesarea."
"Is this so?" asked the bishop of Miriam.
"It is so," she answered. "This Libyan was the servant of my grandmother. She nursed both my mother and myself, and many a time has saved my life. Have no fear, she is faithful."
"Your pardon," said the bishop with a grave smile and addressing Nehushta, "but you who are old will know that the Christian who entertains strangers sometimes entertains a devil." Then he lifted up his hands and blessed them, greeting them in the name of their Master.
"So, maid Miriam," he said, still smiling, "it would seem that I was no false prophet, and though you walked in the Triumph and were sold in the slave-ring--for this much I have heard--still the Angel of the Lord went with you."
"Father, he went with me," she answered, "and he leads me here."
Then they told him all the tale, and how Miriam sought a refuge from Domitian. He looked at her, stroking his long beard.
"Is there anything you can do?" he asked. "Anything useful, I mean? But perhaps that is a foolish question, seeing that women--especially those who are well-favoured--do not learn a trade."
"I have learnt a trade," answered Miriam, flushing a little. "Once I was held of some account as a sculptor; indeed I have heard that your Emperor Nero decreed divine honours to a bust from my hand."
The bishop laughed outright. "The Emperor Nero! Well, the poor madman has gone to his own place, so let us say no more of him. But I heard of that bust; indeed I saw it; it was a likeness of Marcus Fortunatus, was it not, and in its fashion a great work? But our people do not make such things; we are artisans, not artists."
"The artisan should be an artist," said Miriam, setting her mouth.
"Perhaps, but as a rule he isn"t. Do you think that you could mould lamps?"
"There is nothing I should like better, that is if I am not forced to copy one pattern," she added as an afterthought.
"Then," said the bishop, "I think, daughter, that I can show you how to earn a living, where none are likely to seek for you."
Not a hundred paces away from the carpenter"s shop where the master craftsman, Septimus, worked, was another manufactory, in which vases, basins, lamps, and all such articles were designed, moulded and baked.
The customers who frequented the place, wholesale merchants for the most part, noted from and after the day of this interview a new workwoman, who, so far as her rough blouse permitted them to judge, seemed to be young and pretty, seated in a corner apart, beneath a window by the light of which she laboured. Later on they observed also, those of them who had any taste, that among the lamps produced by the factory appeared some of singular and charming design, so good, indeed, that although the makers reaped little extra benefit, the middlemen found no difficulty in disposing of these pieces at a high price. All day long Miriam sat fashioning them, while old Nehushta, who had learnt something of the task years ago by Jordan, prepared and tempered the clay and carried the finished work to the furnace.
Now, though none would have guessed it, in this workshop all the labourers were Christians, and the product of their toil was cast into a common treasury on the proceeds of which they lived, taking, each of them, such share as their elders might decree, and giving the surplus to brethren who had need, or to the sick. Connected with these shops were lodging houses, mean enough to look at, but clean within. At the top of one of them, up three flights of narrow stairs, Miriam and Nehushta dwelt in a large attic that was very hot when the sun shone on the roof, and very cold in the bitter winds and rains of winter. In other respects, however, the room was not unpleasant, since being so high there were few smells and little noise; also the air that blew in at the windows was fresh and odorous of the open lands beyond the city.
So there they dwelt in peace, for none came to search for the costly and beautiful Pearl-Maiden in those squalid courts, occupied by working folk of the meaner sort. By day they laboured, and at night they rested, ministering and ministered to in the community of Christian brotherhood, and, notwithstanding their fears and anxieties for themselves and another, were happier than they had been for years. So the weeks went by.
Very soon tidings came to them, for these Christians knew of all that pa.s.sed in the great city; also, when they met in the catacombs at night, as was their custom, especially upon the Lord"s Day, Julia gave them news. From her they learned that they had done wisely to flee her house.
Within three hours of their departure, indeed before Julia had returned there, officers arrived to inquire whether they had seen anything of the Jewish captive named Pearl-Maiden, who had been sold in the Forum on the previous night, and, as they said, escaped from her purchaser, on whose behalf they searched. Gallus received them, and, not being a Christian, lied boldly, vowing that he had seen nothing of the girl since he gave her over into the charge of the servants of Caesar upon the morning of the Triumph. So suspecting no guile they departed and troubled his household no more.
From the palace of Domitian Marcus was taken to his prison near the Temple of Mars. Here, because of his wealth and rank, because also he made appeal to Caesar and was therefore as yet uncondemned of any crime, he found himself well treated. Two good rooms were given him to live in, and his own steward, Stepha.n.u.s, was allowed to attend him and provide him with food and all he needed. Also upon giving his word that he would attempt no escape, he was allowed to walk in the gardens between the prison and the Temple, and to receive his friends at any hour of the day. His first visitor was the chamberlain, Saturius, who began by condoling with him over his misfortune and most undeserved position.
Marcus cut him short.
"Why am I here?" he asked.
"Because, most n.o.ble Marcus, you have been so unlucky as to incur the displeasure of a very powerful man."
"Why does Domitian persecute me?" he asked again.
"How innocent are you soldiers!" said the chamberlain. "I will answer your question by another. Why do you buy beautiful captives upon whom royalty chances to have set its heart?"
Marcus thought a moment, then said, "Is there any way out of this trouble?"
"My lord Marcus, I came to show you one. n.o.body really believes that you of all men failed in your duty out there in Jerusalem. Why, the thing is absurd, as even those carpet-captains before whom you were tried knew well. Still, your position is most awkward. There is evidence against you--of a sort. Vespasian will not interfere, for he is aware that this is some private matter of Domitian"s, and having had one quarrel with his son over the captive, Pearl-Maiden, he does not wish for another over the man who bought her. No, he will say--this prefect was one of the friends and officers of t.i.tus, let t.i.tus settle the affair as it may please him when he returns."
"At least t.i.tus will do me justice," said Marcus.
"Yes, without doubt, but what will that justice be? t.i.tus issued an edict. Have you ever known him to go back upon his edicts, even to save a friend? t.i.tus declared throughout his own camps those Romans who were taken prisoner by the Jews to be worthy of death or disgrace, and two of them, common men and cowards, have been publicly disgraced in the eyes of Rome. You were taken prisoner by the Jews and have returned alive, unfortunately for yourself, to incur the dislike of Domitian, who has raked up a matter that otherwise never would have been mooted."
"Now," he says to t.i.tus--"Show justice and no favour, as you showed in the case of the captive Pearl-Maiden, whom you refused to the prayer of your only brother, saying that she must be sold according to your decree. Even if he loves you dearly, as I believe he does, what, my lord Marcus, can t.i.tus answer to that argument, especially as he also seeks no further quarrel with Domitian?"
"You said you came to show me a way to safety--yet you tell me that my feet are set in the path of disgrace and death. Must this way of yours, then, be paved with gold?"
"No," answered Saturius drily, "with pearls. Oh! I will be plain. Give up that necklace--and its wearer. What do you answer?"
Now Marcus understood, and a saying that he heard on the lips of Miriam arose in his mind, though he knew not whence it came.
"I answer," he said with set face and flashing eyes, "that I will not cast pearls before swine."
"A pretty message from a prisoner to his judge," replied the chamberlain with a curious smile. "But have no fear, n.o.ble Marcus, it shall not be delivered. I am not paid to tell my royal master the truth. Think again."
"I have thought," answered Marcus. "I do not know where the maiden is and therefore cannot deliver her to Domitian, nor would I if I could.
Rather will I be disgraced and perish."