"Wilt thou renounce it?" asked the voice of Lazarus.
"_Kyrie eleison, Christie eleison!_" came the answer, brave and clear.
"Lay on, Levi, and let thy arm be strong!"
And again the sound of blows, regular, merciless, came up from the bowels of the earth.
"Dost thou repent? Dost thou renounce? Dost thou deny?"
"I repent of my sins--I renounce your ways--I believe in the Lord--"
The sacred name was not heard. A smothered groan as of one losing consciousness in extreme torture was all that came up from below.
"Lay on, Levi, lay on!"
"Nay," answered the strong rabbi, "the boy will die. Let us leave him here for this night. Perchance cold and hunger will be more potent than stripes, when he shall come to himself."
"As though sayest," answered the father in angry reluctance.
Again all was silent. Soon the rays of light ceased to shine through the crevices of the outer shutters, and sleep descended upon the quarter of the Jews. Still the scene in the vision changed not. After a long stillness a clear young voice was heard speaking.
"Lord, if it be Thy will that I die, grant that I may bear all in Thy name, grant that I, unworthy, may endure in this body the punishments due to me in spirit for my sins. And if it be Thy will that I live, let my life be used also for Thy glory."
The voice ceased and the cloud of pa.s.sing time descended upon the vision and was lifted again and again. And each time the same voice was heard and the sound of torturing blows, but the voice of the boy was weaker every night, though it was not less brave.
"I believe," it said, always. "Do what you will, you have power over the body, but I have the Faith over which you have no power."
So the days and the nights pa.s.sed, and though the prayer came up in feeble tones, it was born of a mighty spirit and it rang in the ears of the tormentors as the voice of an angel which they had no power to silence, appealing from them to the tribunal of the Throne of G.o.d Most High.
Day by day, also, the rabbis and the elders began to congregate together at evening before the house of Lazarus and to talk with him and with each other, debating how they might break the endurance of his son and bring him again into the synagogue as one of themselves. Chief among them in their councils was Levi, the Short-handed, devising new tortures for the frail body to bear and boasting how he would conquer the stubborn boy by the might of his hands to hurt. Some of the rabbis shook their heads.
"He is possessed of a devil," they said. "He will die and repent not."
But others nodded approvingly and wagged their filthy heads and said that when the fool had been chastised the evil spirit would depart from him.
Once more the cloud of pa.s.sing time descended and was lifted. Then the walls of the house were opened and in a low arched chamber the rabbis sat about a black table. It was night and a single smoking lamp was lighted, a mere wick projecting out of a three-cornered vessel of copper which was full of oil and was hung from the vault with blackened wires.
Seven rabbis sat at the board, and at the head sat Lazarus. Their crooked hands and claw-like nails moved uneasily and there was a lurid fire in their vulture"s eyes. They bent forward, speaking to each other in low tones, and from beneath their greasy caps their anointed side curls dangled and swung as they moved their heads. But Levi the Short-handed was not among them. Their m.u.f.fled talk was interrupted from time to time by the sound of sharp, loud blows, as of a hammer striking upon nails, and as though a carpenter were at work not far from the room in which they sat.
"He has not repented," said Lazarus, from his place. "Neither many stripes, nor cold, nor hunger, nor thirst, have moved him to righteousness. It is written that he shall be cut off from his people."
"He shall be cut off," answered the rabbis with one voice.
"It is right and just that he should die," continued the father. "Shall we give him over to the Christians that he may dwell among them and become one of them, and be shown before the world to our shame?"
"We will not let him go," said the dark man, and an evil smile flickered from one face to another as a firefly flutters from tree to tree in the night--as though the spirit of evil had touched each one in turn.
"We will not let him go," said each again.
Lazarus also smiled as though in a.s.sent, and bowed his head a little before he spoke.
"I am obedient to your judgment. It is yours to command and mine to obey. If you say that he must die, let him die. He is my son. Take him.
Did not our father Abraham lay Isaac upon the altar and offer him as a burnt sacrifice before the Lord?"
"Let him die," said the rabbis.
"Then let him die," answered Lazarus. "I am your servant. It is mine to obey."
"His blood be on our heads," they said. And again, the evil smile went round.
"It is then expedient that we determine of what manner his death shall be," continued the father, inclining his body to signify his submission.
"It is not lawful to shed his blood," said the rabbis. "And we cannot stone him, lest we be brought to judgment of the Christians. Determine thou the manner of his death."
"My masters, if you will it, let him be brought once more before us. Let us all hear with our ears his denial, and if he repent at the last, it is well, let him live. But if he harden his heart against our entreaties, let him die. Levi hath brought certain pieces of wood hither to my house, and is even now at work. If the youth is still stubborn in his unbelief, let him die even as the Unbeliever died--by the righteous judgment of the Romans."
"Let it be so. Let him be crucified!" said the rabbis with one voice.
Then Lazarus rose and went out, and, in the vision, the rabbis remained seated, motionless in their places awaiting his return. The noise of Levi"s hammer echoed through the low vaulted chamber, and at each blow the smoking lamp quivered a little, casting strange shadows upon the evil faces beneath its light. At last footsteps, slow and uncertain, were heard without, the low door opened, and Lazarus entered, holding up the body of his son before him.
"I have brought him before you for the last time," he said. "Question him and hear his condemnation out of his own mouth. He repents not, though I have done my utmost to bring him back to the paths of righteousness. Question him, my masters, and let us see what he will say."
White and exhausted with long hunger and thirst, his body broken by torture, scarcely any longer sensible to bodily pain, Simon Abeles would have fallen to the ground had his father not held him under the arms.
His head hung forward and the pale and n.o.ble face was inclined towards the breast, but the deep, dark eyes were open and gazed calmly upon those who sat in judgment at the table. A rough piece of linen cloth was wrapped about the boy"s shoulders and body, but his thin arms were bare.
"Hearest thou, Simon, son of Lazarus?" asked the rabbis. "Knowest thou in whose presence thou standest?"
"I hear you and I know you all." There was no fear in the voice though it trembled from weakness.
"Renounce then thy errors, and having suffered the chastis.e.m.e.nt of thy folly, return to the ways of thy father and of thy father"s house and of all thy people."
"I renounce my sins, and whatsoever is yet left for me to suffer, I will, by G.o.d"s help, so bear it as to be not unworthy of Christ"s mercy."
The rabbis gazed at the brave young face, and smiled and wagged their beards, talking one with another in low tones.
"It is as we feared," they said. "He is unrepentant and he is worthy of death. It is not expedient that the young adder should live. There is poison under his tongue, and he speaks things not lawful for an Israelite to hear. Let him die, that we may see him no more, and that our children be not corrupted by his false teachings."
"Hearest thou? Thou shalt die." It was Lazarus who spoke, while holding up the boy before the table and hissing the words into his ear.
"I hear. I am ready. Lead me forth."
"There is yet time to repent. If thou wilt but deny what thou hast said these many days, and return to us, thou shalt be forgiven and thy days shall be long among us, and thy children"s days after thee, and the Lord shall perchance have mercy and increase thy goods among thy fellows."
"Let him alone," said the rabbis. "He is unrepentant."
"Lead me forth," said Simon Abeles.
"Lead him forth," repeated the rabbis. "Perchance, when he sees the manner of his death before his eyes, he will repent at the last."