CHAPTER V
The sheik waited,
well satisfied, until Ben-Hur drew his horses off the field for the forenoon -
well satisfied, for he had seen them, after being put through all the other
paces, run full speed in such manner that it did not seem there were one the
slowest and another the fastest - run in other words, as if the four were one.
"This
afternoon, O sheik, I will give Sirius back to you." Ben-Hur patted the
neck of the old horse as he spoke. "I will give him back, and take to the
chariot."
"So
soon?" Ilderim asked.
"With such
as these, good sheik, one day suffices. They are not afraid; they have a man's
intelligence, and they love the exercise. This one," he shook a rein over
the back of the youngest of the four -”you called him Aldebaran, I believe - is
the swiftest; in once round a stadium he would lead the others thrice his
length."
Ilderim pulled
his beard, and said, with twinkling eyes, "Aldebaran is the swiftest; but
what of the slowest?"
"This is
he." Ben-Hur shook the rein over Antares. "This is he: but he will
win, for, look you, sheik, he will run his utmost all day - all day; and, as the
sun goes down, he will reach his swiftest."
"Right
again," said Ilderim.
"I have but
one fear, O sheik."
The sheik became
doubly serious.
"In his
greed of triumph, a Roman cannot keep honor pure. In the games - all of them,
mark you - their tricks are infinite; in chariot racing their knavery extends
to everything - from horse to driver, from driver to master. Wherefore, good
sheik, look well to all thou hast; from this till the trial is over, let no
stranger so much as see the horses. Would you be perfectly safe, do more - keep
watch over them with armed hand as well as sleepless eye; then I will have no
fear of the end."
At the door of
the tent they dismounted.
"What you
say shall be attended to. By the splendor of God, no hand shall come near them
except it belong to one of the faithful. To-night I will set watches. But, son
of Arrius" - Ilderim drew forth the package, and opened it slowly, while
they walked to the divan and seated themselves -”son of Arrius, see thou here,
and help me with thy Latin."
He passed the
despatch to Ben-Hur.
"There; read
- and read aloud, rendering what thou findest into the tongue of thy fathers.
Latin is an abomination."
Ben-Hur was in
good spirits, and began the reading carelessly. "'MESSALA TO
GRATUS!'" He paused. A premonition drove the blood to his heart. Ilderim
observed his agitation.
"Well; I am
waiting."
Ben-Hur prayed
pardon, and recommenced the paper, which, it is sufficient to say, was one of
the duplicates of the letter despatched so carefully to Gratus by Messala the
morning after the revel in the palace.
The paragraphs in
the beginning were remarkable only as proof that the writer had not outgrown
his habit of mockery; when they were passed, and the reader came to the parts
intended to refresh the memory of Gratus, his voice trembled, and twice he
stopped to regain his self-control. By a strong effort he continued. "'I
recall further,'" he read, "'that thou didst make disposition of the
family of Hur'" - there the reader again paused and drew a long breath
-”'both of us at the time supposing the plan hit upon to be the most effective
possible for the purposes in view, which were silence and delivery over to
inevitable but natural death.'"
Here Ben-Hur
broke down utterly. The paper fell from his hands, and he covered his face.
"They are
dead - dead. I alone am left."
The sheik had
been a silent, but not unsympathetic, witness of the young man's suffering; now
he arose and said, "Son of Arrius, it is for me to beg thy pardon. Read
the paper by thyself. When thou art strong enough to give the rest of it to me,
send word, and I will return."
He went out of
the tent, and nothing in all his life became him better.
Ben-Hur flung
himself on the divan and gave way to his feelings. When somewhat recovered, he
recollected that a portion of the letter remained unread, and, taking it up, he
resumed the reading. "Thou wilt remember," the missive ran,
"what thou didst with the mother and sister of the malefactor; yet, if now
I yield to a desire to learn if they be living or dead" - Ben-Hur started,
and read again, and then again, and at last broke into exclamation. "He
does not know they are dead; he does not know it! Blessed be the name of the
Lord! there is yet hope." He finished the sentence, and was strengthened
by it, and went on bravely to the end of the letter.
"They are
not dead," he said, after reflection; "they are not dead, or he would
have heard of it."
A second reading,
more careful than the first, confirmed him in the opinion. Then he sent for the
sheik.
"In coming
to your hospitable tent, O sheik," he said, calmly, when the Arab was
seated and they were alone, "it was not in my mind to speak of myself
further than to assure you I had sufficient training to be intrusted with your
horses. I declined to tell you my history. But the chances which have sent this
paper to my hand and given it to me to be read are so strange that I feel
bidden to trust you with everything. And I am the more inclined to do so by
knowledge here conveyed that we are both of us threatened by the same enemy,
against whom it is needful that we make common cause. I will read the letter
and give you explanation; after which you will not wonder I was so moved. If
you thought me weak or childish, you will then excuse me."
The sheik held
his peace, listening closely, until Ben-Hur came to the paragraph in which he
was particularly mentioned: "'I saw the Jew yesterday in the Grove of
Daphne;'" so ran the part, "'and if he be not there now, he is
certainly in the neighborhood, making it easy for me to keep him in eye.
Indeed, wert thou to ask me where he is now, I should say, with the most
positive assurance, he is to be found at the old Orchard of Palms.'"
"A -
h!" exclaimed Ilderim, in such a tone one might hardly say he was more surprised
than angry; at the same time, he clutched his beard.
"'At the old
Orchard of Palms,'" Ben-Hur repeated, "'under the tent of the traitor
Shiek Ilderim.'"
"Traitor! -
I?" the old man cried, in his shrillest tone, while lip and beard curled
with ire, and on his forehead and neck the veins swelled and beat as they would
burst.
"Yet a
moment, sheik," said Ben-Hur, with a deprecatory gesture. "Such is
Messala's opinion of you. Hear his threat." And he read on -”'under the
tent of the traitor Sheik Ilderim, who cannot long escape our strong hand. Be
not surprised if Maxentius, as his first measure, places the Arab on ship for
forwarding to Rome.'"
"To Rome! Me
- Ilderim - sheik of ten thousand horsemen with spears - me to Rome!"
He leaped rather
than rose to his feet, his arms outstretched, his fingers spread and curved
like claws, his eyes glittering like a serpent's.
"O God! -
nay, by all the gods except of Rome! - when shall this insolence end? A freeman
am I; free are my people. Must we die slaves? Or, worse, must I live a dog,
crawling to a master's feet? Must I lick his hand, lest he lash me? What is
mine is not mine; I am not my own; for breath of body I must be beholden to a
Roman. Oh, if I were young again! Oh, could I shake off twenty years - or ten -
or five!"
He ground his
teeth and shook his hands overhead; then, under the impulse of another idea, he
walked away and back again to Ben-Hur swiftly, and caught his shoulder with a
strong grasp.
"If I were
as thou, son of Arrius - as young, as strong, as practised in arms; if I had a
motive hissing me to revenge - a motive, like thine, great enough to make hate
holy - Away with disguise on thy part
and on mine! Son of Hur, son of Hur, I say -”
At that name all
the currents of Ben-Hur's blood stopped; surprised, bewildered, he gazed into
the Arab's eyes, now close to his, and fiercely bright.
"Son of Hur,
I say, were I as thou, with half thy wrongs, bearing about with me memories
like thine, I would not, I could not, rest." Never pausing, his words
following each other torrent-like, the old man swept on. "To all my
grievances, I would add those of the world, and devote myself to vengeance.
From land to land I would go firing all mankind. No war for freedom but should
find me engaged; no battle against Rome in which I would not bear a part. I
would turn Parthian, if I could not better. If men failed me, still I would not
give over the effort - ha, ha, ha! By the splendor of God! I would herd with
wolves, and make friends of lions and tigers, in hope of marshalling them
against the common enemy. I would use every weapon. So my victims were Romans,
I would rejoice in slaughter. Quarter I would not ask; quarter I would not
give. To the flames everything Roman; to the sword every Roman born. Of nights
I would pray the gods, the good and the bad alike, to lend me their special
terrors - tempests, drought, heat, cold, and all the nameless poisons they let
loose in air, all the thousand things of which men die on sea and on land. Oh,
I could not sleep. I - I -”
The sheik stopped
for want of breath, panting, wringing his hands. And, sooth to say, of all the
passionate burst Ben-Hur retained but a vague impression wrought by fiery eyes,
a piercing voice, and a rage too intense for coherent expression.
For the first
time in years, the desolate youth heard himself addressed by his proper name.
One man at least knew him, and acknowledged it without demand of identity; and
he an Arab fresh from the desert!
How came the man
by his knowledge? The letter? No. It told the cruelties from which his family
had suffered; it told the story of his own misfortunes, but it did not say he
was the very victim whose escape from doom was the theme of the heartless
narrative. That was the point of explanation he had notified the sheik would
follow the reading of the letter. He was pleased, and thrilled with hope
restored, yet kept an air of calmness.
"Good sheik,
tell me how you came by this letter."
"My people
keep the roads between cities," Ilderim answered, bluntly. "They took
it from a courier."
"Are they
known to be thy people?"
"No. To the
world they are robbers, whom it is mine to catch and slay."
"Again,
sheik. You call me son of Hur - my father's name. I did not think myself known
to a person on earth. How came you by the knowledge?"
Ilderim
hesitated; but, rallying, he answered, "I know you, yet I am not free to
tell you more."
"Some one
holds you in restraint?"
The sheik closed
his mouth, and walked away; but, observing Ben-Hur's disappointment, he came back,
and said, "Let us say no more about the matter now. I will go to town;
when I return, I may talk to you fully. Give me the letter."
Ilderim rolled
the papyrus carefully, restored it to its envelopes, and became once more all
energy.
"What sayest
thou?" he asked, while waiting for his horse and retinue. "I told
what I would do, were I thou, and thou hast made no answer."
"I intended
to answer, sheik, and I will." Ben-Hur's countenance and voice changed
with the feeling invoked. "All thou hast said, I will do - all at least in
the power of a man. I devoted myself to vengeance long ago. Every hour of the
five years passed, I have lived with no other thought. I have taken no respite.
I have had no pleasures of youth. The blandishments of Rome were not for me. I
wanted her to educate me for revenge. I resorted to her most famous masters and
professors - not those of rhetoric or philosophy: alas! I had no time for them.
The arts essential to a fighting-man were my desire. I associated with
gladiators, and with winners of prizes in the Circus; and they were my
teachers. The drill-masters in the great camp accepted me as a scholar, and
were proud of my attainments in their line. O sheik, I am a soldier; but the
things of which I dream require me to be a captain. With that thought, I have
taken part in the campaign against the Parthians; when it is over, then, if the
Lord spare my life and strength - then" - he raised his clenched hands,
and spoke vehemently -”then I will be an enemy Roman-taught in all things; then
Rome shall account to me in Roman lives for her ills. You have my answer,
sheik."
Ilderim put an
arm over his shoulder, and kissed him, saying, passionately, "If thy God
favor thee not, son of Hur, it is because he is dead. Take thou this from me -
sworn to, if so thy preference run: thou shalt have my hands, and their fulness
- men, horses, camels, and the desert for preparation. I swear it! For the
present, enough. Thou shalt see or hear from me before night."
Turning abruptly
off, the sheik was speedily on the road to the city.
CHAPTER VI
The intercepted
letter was conclusive upon a number of points of great interest to Ben-Hur. It
had all the effect of a confession that the writer was a party to the
putting-away of the family with murderous intent; that he had sanctioned the
plan adopted for the purpose; that he had received a portion of the proceeds of
the confiscation, and was yet in enjoyment of his part; that he dreaded the
unexpected appearance of what he was pleased to call the chief malefactor, and
accepted it as a menace; that he contemplated such further action as would
secure him in the future, and was ready to do whatever his accomplice in
Caesarea might advise.
And, now that the
letter had reached the hand of him really its subject, it was notice of danger
to come, as well as a confession of guilt. So when Ilderim left the tent,
Ben-Hur had much to think about, requiring immediate action. His enemies were
as adroit and powerful as any in the East. If they were afraid of him, he had greater
reason to be afraid of them. He strove earnestly to reflect upon the situation,
but could not; his feelings constantly overwhelmed him. There was a certain
qualified pleasure in the assurance that his mother and sister were alive; and
it mattered little that the foundation of the assurance was a mere inference.
That there was one person who could tell him where they were seemed to his hope
so long deferred as if discovery were now close at hand. These were mere causes
of feeling; underlying them, it must be confessed he had a superstitious fancy
that God was about to make ordination in his behalf, in which event faith
whispered him to stand still.
Occasionally,
referring to the words of Ilderim, he wondered whence the Arab derived his
information about him; not from Malluch certainly; nor from Simonides, whose
interests, all adverse, would hold him dumb. Could Messala have been the
informant? No, no: disclosure might be dangerous in that quarter. Conjecture
was vain; at the same time, often as Ben-Hur was beaten back from the solution,
he was consoled with the thought that whoever the person with the knowledge
might be, he was a friend, and, being such, would reveal himself in good time.
A little more waiting - a little more patience. Possibly the errand of the
sheik was to see the worthy; possibly the letter might precipitate a full
disclosure.
And patient he
would have been if only he could have believed Tirzah and his mother were
waiting for him under circumstances permitting hope on their part strong as
his; if, in other words, conscience had not stung him with accusations
respecting them.
To escape such
accusations, he wandered far through the Orchard, pausing now where the
date-gatherers were busy, yet not too busy to offer him of their fruit and talk
with him; then, under the great trees, to watch the nesting birds, or hear the
bees swarming about the berries bursting with honeyed sweetness, and filling
all the green and golden spaces with the music of their beating wings.
By the lake,
however, he lingered longest. He might not look upon the water and its
sparkling ripples, so like sensuous life, without thinking of the Egyptian and
her marvellous beauty, and of floating with her here and there through the
night, made brilliant by her songs and stories; he might not forget the charm
of her manner, the lightness of her laugh, the flattery of her attention, the
warmth of her little hand under his upon the tiller of the boat. From her it
was for his thought but a short way to Balthasar, and the strange things of
which he had been witness, unaccountable by any law of nature; and from him,
again, to the King of the Jews, whom the good man, with such pathos of
patience, was holding in holy promise, the distance was even nearer. And there
his mind stayed, finding in the mysteries of that personage a satisfaction
answering well for the rest he was seeking. Because, it may have been, nothing
is so easy as denial of an idea not agreeable to our wishes, he rejected the
definition given by Balthasar of the kingdom the king was coming to establish.
A kingdom of souls, if not intolerable to his Sadducean faith, seemed to him
but an abstraction drawn from the depths of a devotion too fond and dreamy. A
kingdom of Judea, on the other hand, was more than comprehensible: such had
been, and, if only for that reason, might be again. And it suited his pride to
think of a new kingdom broader of domain, richer in power, and of a more
unapproachable splendor than the old one; of a new king wiser and mightier than
Solomon - a new king under whom, especially, he could find both service and
revenge. In that mood he resumed to the dowar.
The mid-day meal
disposed of, still further to occupy himself, Ben-Hur had the chariot rolled
out into the sunlight for inspection. The word but poorly conveys the careful
study the vehicle underwent. No point or part of it escaped him. With a
pleasure which will be better understood hereafter, he saw the pattern was
Greek, in his judgment preferable to the Roman in many respects; it was wider between
the wheels, and lower and stronger, and the disadvantage of greater weight
would be more than compensated by the greater endurance of his Arabs. Speaking
generally, the carriage-makers of Rome built for the games almost solely,
sacrificing safety to beauty, and durability to grace; while the chariots of
Achilles and "the king of men," designed for war and all its extreme
tests, still ruled the tastes of those who met and struggled for the crowns
Isthmian and Olympic.
Next he brought
the horses, and, hitching them to the chariot, drove to the field of exercise,
where, hour after hour, he practised them in movement under the yoke. When he
came away in the evening, it was with restored spirit, and a fixed purpose to
defer action in the matter of Messala until the race was won or lost. He could
not forego the pleasure of meeting his adversary under the eyes of the East;
that there might be other competitors seemed not to enter his thought. His
confidence in the result was absolute; no doubt of his own skill; and as to the
four, they were his full partners in the glorious game.
"Let him
look to it, let him look to it! Ha, Antares - Aldebaran! Shall he not, O honest
Rigel? and thou, Atair, king among coursers, shall he not beware of us? Ha, ha!
good hearts!"
So in rests he
passed from horse to horse, speaking, not as a master, but the senior of as
many brethren.
After nightfall,
Ben-Hur sat by the door of the tent waiting for Ilderim, not yet returned from
the city. He was not impatient, or vexed, or doubtful. The sheik would be heard
from, at least. Indeed, whether it was from satisfaction with the performance
of the four, or the refreshment there is in cold water succeeding bodily
exercise, or supper partaken with royal appetite, or the reaction which, as a
kindly provision of nature, always follows depression, the young man was in
good-humor verging upon elation. He felt himself in the hands of Providence no
longer his enemy. At last there was a sound of horse's feet coming rapidly, and
Malluch rode up.
"Son of
Arrius," he said, cheerily, after salutation, "I salute you for Sheik
Ilderim, who requests you to mount and go to the city. He is waiting for
you."
Ben-Hur asked no
questions, but went in where the horses were feeding. Aldebaran came to him, as
if offering his service. He played with him lovingly, but passed on, and chose
another, not of the four - they were sacred to the race. Very shortly the two
were on the road, going swiftly and in silence.
Some distance
below the Seleucian Bridge, they crossed the river by a ferry, and, riding far
round on the right bank, and recrossing by another ferry, entered the city from
the west. The detour was long, but Ben-Hur accepted it as a precaution for
which there was good reason.
Down to
Simonides' landing they rode, and in front of the great warehouse, under the
bridge, Malluch drew rein.
"We are
come," he said. "Dismount."
Ben-Hur
recognized the place.
"Where is
the sheik?" he asked.
"Come with
me. I will show you."
A watchman took
the horses, and almost before he realized it Ben-Hur stood once more at the
door of the house up on the greater one, listening to the response from within
-”In God's name, enter."
