CHAPTER XV
Ben-Hur tarried
across the river with Ilderim; for at midnight, as previously determined, they
would take the road which the caravan, then thirty hours out, had pursued.
The sheik was
happy; his offers of gifts had been royal; but Ben-Hur had refused everything,
insisting that he was satisfied with the humiliation of his enemy. The generous
dispute was long continued.
"Think,"
the sheik would say, "what thou hast done for me. In every black tent down
to the Akaba and to the ocean, and across to the Euphrates, and beyond to the
sea of the Scythians, the renown of my Mira and her children will go; and they
who sing of them will magnify me, and forget that I am in the wane of life; and
all the spears now masterless will come to me, and my sword-hands multiply past
counting. Thou dost not know what it is to have sway of the desert such as will
now be mine. I tell thee it will bring tribute incalculable from commerce, and
immunity from kings. Ay, by the sword of Solomon! doth my messenger seek favor
for me of Caesar, that will he get. Yet nothing - nothing?"
And Ben-Hur would
answer,
"Nay, sheik,
have I not thy hand and heart? Let thy increase of power and influence inure to
the King who comes. Who shall say it was not allowed thee for him? In the work
I am going to, I may have great need. Saying no now will leave me to ask of
thee with better grace hereafter."
In the midst of a
controversy of the kind, two messengers arrived - Malluch and one unknown. The
former was admitted first.
The good fellow
did not attempt to hide his joy over the event of the day.
"But, coming
to that with which I am charged," he said, "the master Simonides
sends me to say that, upon the adjournment of the games, some of the Roman
faction made haste to protest against payment of the money prize."
Ilderim started
up, crying, in his shrillest tones,
"By the
splendor of God! the East shall decide whether the race was fairly won."
"Nay, good
sheik," said Malluch, "the editor has paid the money."
"'Tis
well."
"When they
said Ben-Hur struck Messala's wheel, the editor laughed, and reminded them of
the blow the Arabs had at the turn of the goal."
"And what of
the Athenian?"
"He is
dead."
"Dead!"
cried Ben-Hur.
"Dead!"
echoed Ilderim. "What fortune these Roman monsters have! Messala escaped?"
"Escaped -
yes, O sheik, with life; but it shall be a burden to him. The physicians say he
will live, but never walk again."
Ben-Hur looked
silently up to heaven. He had a vision of Messala, chairbound like Simonides,
and, like him, going abroad on the shoulders of servants. The good man had
abode well; but what would this one with his pride and ambition?
"Simonides
bade me say, further," Malluch continued, "Sanballat is having
trouble. Drusus, and those who signed with him, referred the question of paying
the five talents they lost to the Consul Maxentius, and he has referred it to
Caesar. Messala also refused his losses, and Sanballat, in imitation of Drusus,
went to the consul, where the matter is still in advisement. The better Romans
say the protestants shall not be excused; and all the adverse factions join
with them. The city rings with the scandal."
"What says
Simonides?" asked Ben-Hur.
"The master
laughs, and is well pleased. If the Roman pays, he is ruined; if he refuses to
pay, he is dishonored. The imperial policy will decide the matter. To offend
the East would be a bad beginning with the Parthians; to offend Sheik Ilderim
would be to antagonize the Desert, over which lie all Maxentius's lines of
operation. Wherefore Simonides bade me tell you to have no disquiet; Messala
will pay."
Ilderim was at
once restored to his good-humor.
"Let us be
off now," he said, rubbing his hands. "The business will do well with
Simonides. The glory is ours. I will order the horses."
"Stay,"
said Malluch. "I left a messenger outside. Will you see him?"
"By the
splendor of God! I forgot him."
Malluch retired,
and was succeeded by a lad of gentle manners and delicate appearance, who knelt
upon one knee, and said, winningly, "Iras, the daughter of Balthasar, well
known to good Sheik Ilderim, hath intrusted me with a message to the sheik,
who, she saith, will do her great favor so he receive her congratulations on
account of the victory of his four."
"The
daughter of my friend is kind," said Ilderim, with sparkling eyes.
"Do thou give her this jewel, in sign of the pleasure I have from her
message."
He took a ring
from his finger as he spoke.
"I will as
thou sayest, O sheik," the lad replied, and continued, "The daughter
of the Egyptian charged me further. She prays the good Sheik Ilderim to send
word to the youth Ben-Hur that her father hath taken residence for a time in
the palace of Idernee, where she will receive the youth after the fourth hour
to-morrow. And if, with her congratulations, Sheik Ilderim will accept her
gratitude for this other favor done, she will be ever so pleased."
The sheik looked
at Ben-Hur, whose face was suffused with pleasure.
"What will
you?" he asked.
"By your
leave, O sheik, I will see the fair Egyptian."
Ilderim laughed,
and said, "Shall not a man enjoy his youth?"
Then Ben-Hur
answered the messenger.
"Say to her
who sent you that I, Ben-Hur, will see her at the palace of Idernee, wherever
that may be, to-morrow at noon."
The lad arose,
and, with silent salute, departed.
At midnight
Ilderim took the road, having arranged to leave a horse and a guide for
Ben-Hur, who was to follow him.
CHAPTER XVI
Going next day to
fill his appointment with Iras, Ben-Hur turned from the Omphalus, which was in
the heart of the city, into the Colonnade of Herod, and came shortly to the
palace of Idernee.
From the street
he passed first into a vestibule, on the sides of which were stairways under
cover, leading up to a portico. Winged lions sat by the stairs; in the middle
there was a gigantic ibis spouting water over the floor; the lions, ibis,
walls, and floor were reminders of the Egyptians: everything, even the
balustrading of the stairs, was of massive gray stone.
Above the
vestibule, and covering the landing of the steps, arose the portico, a pillared
grace, so light, so exquisitely proportioned, it was at that period hardly
possible of conception except by a Greek. Of marble snowy white, its effect was
that of a lily dropped carelessly upon a great bare rock.
Ben-Hur paused in
the shade of the portico to admire its tracery and finish, and the purity of
its marble; then he passed on into the palace. Ample folding-doors stood open
to receive him. The passage into which he first entered was high, but somewhat
narrow; red tiling formed the floor, and the walls were tinted to correspond.
Yet this plainness was a warning of something beautiful to come.
He moved on
slowly, all his faculties in repose. Presently he would be in the presence of
Iras; she was waiting for him; waiting with song and story and badinage,
sparkling, fanciful, capricious - with smiles which glorified her glance, and
glances which lent voluptuous suggestion to her whisper. She had sent for him
the evening of the boat-ride on the lake in the Orchard of Palms; she had sent
for him now; and he was going to her in the beautiful palace of Idernee. He was
happy and dreamful rather than thoughtless.
The passage
brought him to a closed door, in front of which he paused; and, as he did so,
the broad leaves began to open of themselves, without creak or sound of lock or
latch, or touch of foot or finger. The singularity was lost in the view that
broke upon him.
Standing in the
shade of the dull passage, and looking through the doorway, he beheld the
atrium of a Roman house, roomy and rich to a fabulous degree of magnificence.
How large the
chamber was cannot be stated, because of the deceit there is in exact
proportions; its depth was vista-like, something never to be said of an equal
interior. When he stopped to make survey, and looked down upon the floor, he
was standing upon the breast of a Leda, represented as caressing a swan; and,
looking farther, he saw the whole floor was similarly laid in mosaic pictures
of mythological subjects. And there were stools and chairs, each a separate
design, and a work of art exquisitely composed, and tables much carven, and
here and there couches which were invitations of themselves. The articles of
furniture, which stood out from the walls, were duplicated on the floor
distinctly as if they floated unrippled water; even the panelling of the walls,
the figures upon them in painting and bas-relief, and the fresco of the ceiling
were reflected on the floor. The ceiling curved up towards the centre, where
there was an opening through which the sunlight poured without hindrance, and
the sky, ever so blue, seemed in hand-reach; the impluvium under the opening
was guarded by bronzed rails; the gilded pillars supporting the roof at the
edges of the opening shone like flame where the sun struck them, and their
reflections beneath seemed to stretch to infinite depth. And there were
candelabra quaint and curious, and statuary and vases; the whole making an
interior that would have befitted well the house on the Palatine Hill which
Cicero bought of Crassus, or that other, yet more famous for extravagance, the
Tusculan villa of Scaurus.
Still in his
dreamful mood, Ben-Hur sauntered about, charmed by all he beheld, and waiting.
He did not mind a little delay; when Iras was ready, she would come or send a
servant. In every well-regulated Roman house the atrium was the reception
chamber for visitors.
Twice, thrice, he
made the round. As often he stood under the opening in the roof, and pondered
the sky and its azure depth; then, leaning against a pillar, he studied the
distribution of light and shade, and its effects; here a veil diminishing
objects, there a brilliance exaggerating others; yet nobody came. Time, or
rather the passage of time, began at length to impress itself upon him, and he
wondered why Iras stayed so long. Again he traced out the figures upon the
floor, but not with the satisfaction the first inspection gave him. He paused
often to listen: directly impatience blew a little fevered breath upon his
spirit; next time it blew stronger and hotter; and at last he woke to a
consciousness of the silence which held the house in thrall, and the thought of
it made him uneasy and distrustful. Still he put the feeling off with a smile
and a promise. "Oh, she is giving the last touch to her eyelids, or she is
arranging a chaplet for me; she will come presently, more beautiful of the
delay!" He sat down then to admire a candelabrum - a bronze plinth on
rollers, filigree on the sides and edges; the post at one end, and on the end
opposite it an altar and a female celebrant; the lamp-rests swinging by
delicate chains from the extremities of drooping palm-branches; altogether a
wonder in its way. But the silence would obtrude itself: he listened even as he
looked at the pretty object - he listened, but there was not a sound; the
palace was still as a tomb.
There might be a
mistake. No, the messenger had come from the Egyptian, and this was the palace
of Idernee. Then he remembered how mysteriously the door had opened so
soundlessly, so of itself. He would see!
He went to the
same door. Though he walked ever so lightly the sound of his stepping was loud
and harsh, and he shrank from it. He was getting nervous. The cumbrous Roman
lock resisted his first effort to raise it; and the second - the blood chilled
in his cheeks - he wrenched with all his might: in vain - the door was not even
shaken. A sense of danger seized him, and for a moment he stood irresolute.
Who in Antioch
had the motive to do him harm?
Messala!
And this palace
of Idernee? He had seen Egypt in the vestibule, Athens in the snowy portico;
but here, in the atrium, was Rome; everything about him betrayed Roman
ownership. True, the site was on the great thoroughfare of the city, a very
public place in which to do him violence; but for that reason it was more
accordant with the audacious genius of his enemy. The atrium underwent a
change; with all its elegance and beauty, it was no more than a trap.
Apprehension always paints in black.
The idea
irritated Ben-Hur.
There were many
doors on the right and left of the atrium, leading, doubtless, to
sleeping-chambers; he tried them, but they were all firmly fastened. Knocking
might bring response. Ashamed to make outcry, he betook himself to a couch,
and, lying down, tried to reflect.
All too plainly
he was a prisoner; but for what purpose? and by whom?
If the work were
Messala's! He sat up, looked about, and smiled defiantly. There were weapons in
every table. But birds had been starved in golden cages; not so would he - the
couches would serve him as battering-rams; and he was strong, and there was
such increase of might in rage and despair!
Messala himself
could not come. He would never walk again; he was a cripple like Simonides;
still he could move others. And where were there not others to be moved by him?
Ben-Hur arose, and tried the doors again. Once he called out; the room echoed
so that he was startled. With such calmness as he could assume, he made up his
mind to wait a time before attempting to break a way out.
In such a
situation the mind has its ebb and flow of disquiet, with intervals of peace
between. At length - how long, though, he could not have said - he came to the
conclusion that the affair was an accident or mistake. The palace certainly
belonged to somebody; it must have care and keeping: and the keeper would come;
the evening or the night would bring him. Patience!
So concluding, he
waited.
Half an hour
passed - a much longer period to Ben-Hur - when the door which had admitted him
opened and closed noiselessly as before, and without attracting his attention.
The moment of the
occurrence he was sitting at the farther end of the room. A footstep startled
him.
"At last she
has come!" he thought, with a throb of relief and pleasure, and arose.
The step was
heavy, and accompanied with the gride and clang of coarse sandals. The gilded
pillars were between him and the door; he advanced quietly, and leaned against
one of them. Presently he heard voices - the voices of men - one of them rough
and guttural. What was said he could not understand, as the language was not of
the East or South of Europe.
After a general
survey of the room, the strangers crossed to their left, and were brought into
Ben-Hur's view - two men, one very stout, both tall, and both in short tunics.
They had not the air of masters of the house or domestics. Everything they saw
appeared wonderful to them; everything they stopped to examine they touched.
They were vulgarians. The atrium seemed profaned by their presence. At the same
time, their leisurely manner and the assurance with which they proceeded
pointed to some right or business; if business, with whom?
With much jargon
they sauntered this way and that, all the time gradually approaching the pillar
by which Ben-Hur was standing. Off a little way, where a slanted gleam of the
sun fell with a glare upon the mosaic of the floor, there was a statue which
attracted their notice. In examining it, they stopped in the light.
The mystery
surrounding his own presence in the palace tended, as we have seen, to make Ben-Hur
nervous; so now, when in the tall stout stranger he recognized the Northman
whom he had known in Rome, and seen crowned only the day before in the Circus
as the winning pugilist; when he saw the man's face, scarred with the wounds of
many battles, and imbruted by ferocious passions; when he surveyed the fellow's
naked limbs, very marvels of exercise and training, and his shoulders of
Herculean breadth, a thought of personal danger started a chill along every
vein. A sure instinct warned him that the opportunity for murder was too
perfect to have come by chance; and here now were the myrmidons, and their
business was with him. He turned an anxious eye upon the Northman's comrade -
young, black-eyed, black-haired, and altogether Jewish in appearance; he observed,
also, that both the men were in costume exactly such as professionals of their
class were in the habit of wearing in the arena. Putting the several
circumstances together, Ben-Hur could not be longer in doubt: he had been lured
into the palace with design. Out of reach of aid, in this splendid privacy, he
was to die!
At a loss what to
do, he gazed from man to man, while there was enacted within him that miracle
of mind by which life is passed before us in awful detail, to be looked at by
ourselves as if it were another's; and from the evolvement, from a hidden
depth, cast up, as it were, by a hidden hand, he was given to see that he had
entered upon a new life, different from the old one in this: whereas, in that,
he had been the victim of violences done to him, henceforth he was to be the
aggressor. Only yesterday he had found his first victim! To the purely
Christian nature the presentation would have brought the weakness of remorse.
Not so with Ben-Hur; his spirit had its emotions from the teachings of the
first lawgiver, not the last and greatest one. He had dealt punishment, not
wrong, to Messala. By permission of the Lord, he had triumphed; and he derived
faith from the circumstance - faith the source of all rational strength,
especially strength in peril.
Nor did the
influence stop there. The new life was made appear to him a mission just begun,
and holy as the King to come was holy, and certain as the coming of the King
was certain - a mission in which force was lawful if only because it was unavoidable.
Should he, on the very threshold of such an errand, be afraid?
He undid the sash
around his waist, and, baring his head and casting off his white Jewish gown,
stood forth in an undertunic not unlike those of the enemy, and was ready, body
and mind. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the pillar, and calmly
waited.
The examination
of the statue was brief. Directly the Northman turned, and said something in
the unknown tongue; then both looked at Ben-Hur. A few more words, and they advanced
towards him.
"Who are
you?" he asked, in Latin.
The Northman
fetched a smile which did not relieve his face of its brutalism, and answered,
"Barbarians."
"This is the
palace of Idernee. Whom seek you? Stand and answer."
The words were
spoken with earnestness. The strangers stopped; and in his turn the Northman
asked, "Who are you?"
"A
Roman."
The giant laid
his head back upon his shoulders.
"Ha, ha, ha!
I have heard how a god once came from a cow licking a salted stone; but not
even a god can make a Roman of a Jew."
The laugh over,
he spoke to his companion again, and they moved nearer.
"Hold!"
said Ben-Hur, quitting the pillar. "One word."
They stopped
again.
"A
word!" replied the Saxon, folding his immense arms across his breast, and
relaxing the menace beginning to blacken his face. "A word! Speak."
"You are
Thord the Northman."
The giant opened
his blue eyes.
"You were
lanista in Rome."
Thord nodded.
"I was your
scholar."
"No,"
said Thord, shaking his head. "By the beard of Irmin, I had never a Jew to
make a fighting-man of."
"But I will
prove my saying."
"How?"
"You came
here to kill me."
"That is
true."
"Then let
this man fight me singly, and I will make the proof on his body."
A gleam of humor
shone in the Northman's face. He spoke to his companion, who made answer; then
he replied with the naivete of a diverted child,
"Wait till I
say begin."
By repeated
touches of his foot, he pushed a couch out on the floor, and proceeded
leisurely to stretch his burly form upon it; when perfectly at ease, he said,
simply, "Now begin."
Without ado,
Ben-Hur walked to his antagonist.
"Defend
thyself," he said.
The man, nothing
loath, put up his hands.
As the two thus
confronted each other in approved position, there was no discernible inequality
between them; on the contrary, they were as like as brothers. To the stranger's
confident smile, Ben-Hur opposed an earnestness which, had his skill been
known, would have been accepted fair warning of danger. Both knew the combat
was to be mortal.
Ben-Hur feinted
with his right hand. The stranger warded, slightly advancing his left arm. Ere
he could return to guard, Ben-Hur caught him by the wrist in a grip which years
at the oar had made terrible as a vise. The surprise was complete, and no time
given. To throw himself forward; to push the arm across the man's throat and
over his right shoulder, and turn him left side front; to strike surely with
the ready left hand; to strike the bare neck under the ear - were but petty
divisions of the same act. No need of a second blow. The myrmidon fell heavily,
and without a cry, and lay still.
Ben-Hur turned to
Thord.
"Ha! What!
By the beard of Irmin!" the latter cried, in astonishment, rising to a
sitting posture. Then he laughed.
"Ha, ha, ha!
I could not have done it better myself."
He viewed Ben-Hur
coolly from head to foot, and, rising, faced him with undisguised admiration.
"It was my
trick - the trick I have practised for ten years in the schools of Rome. You
are not a Jew. Who are you?"
"You knew
Arrius the duumvir."
"Quintus
Arrius? Yes, he was my patron."
"He had a
son."
"Yes,"
said Thord, his battered features lighting dully, "I knew the boy; he
would have made a king gladiator. Caesar offered him his patronage. I taught
him the very trick you played on this one here - a trick impossible except to a
hand and arm like mine. It has won me many a crown."
"I am that
son of Arrius."
Thord drew
nearer, and viewed him carefully; then his eyes brightened with genuine
pleasure, and, laughing, he held out his hand.
"Ha, ha, ha!
He told me I would find a Jew here - a Jew - a dog of a Jew - killing whom was
serving the gods."
"Who told
you so?" asked Ben-Hur, taking the hand.
"He -
Messala - ha, ha, ha!"
"When,
Thord?"
"Last
night."
"I thought he
was hurt."
"He will
never walk again. On his bed he told me between groans."
A very vivid
portrayal of hate in a few words; and Ben-Hur saw that the Roman, if he lived,
would still be capable and dangerous, and follow him unrelentingly. Revenge
remained to sweeten the ruined life; therefore the clinging to fortune lost in
the wager with Sanballat. Ben-Hur ran the ground over, with a distinct
foresight of the many ways in which it would be possible for his enemy to
interfere with him in the work he had undertaken for the King who was coming.
Why not he resort to the Roman's methods? The man hired to kill him could be
hired to strike back. It was in his power to offer higher wages. The temptation
was strong; and, half yielding, he chanced to look down at his late antagonist
lying still, with white upturned face, so like himself. A light came to him,
and he asked, "Thord, what was Messala to give you for killing me?"
"A thousand
sestertii."
"You shall
have them yet; and so you do now what I tell you, I will add three thousand
more to the sum."
The giant
reflected aloud,
"I won five
thousand yesterday; from the Roman one - six. Give me four, good Arrius - four
more - and I will stand firm for you, though old Thor, my namesake, strike me
with his hammer. Make it four, and I will kill the lying patrician, if you say
so. I have only to cover his mouth with my hand - thus."
He illustrated
the process by clapping his hand over his own mouth.
"I
see," said Ben-Hur; "ten thousand sestertii is a fortune. It will
enable you to return to Rome, and open a wine-shop near the Great Circus, and
live as becomes the first of the lanistae."
The very scars on
the giant's face glowed afresh with the pleasure the picture gave him.
"I will make
it four thousand," Ben-Hur continued; "and in what you shall do for
the money there will be no blood on your hands, Thord. Hear me now. Did not
your friend here look like me?"
"I would
have said he was an apple from the same tree."
"Well, if I
put on his tunic, and dress him in these clothes of mine, and you and I go away
together, leaving him here, can you not get your sestertii from Messala all the
same? You have only to make him believe it me that is dead."
Thord laughed
till the tears ran into his mouth.
"Ha, ha, ha!
Ten thousand sestertii were never won so easily. And a wine-shop by the Great
Circus! - all for a lie without blood in it! Ha, ha, ha! Give me thy hand, O
son of Arrius. Get on now, and - ha, ha, ha! - if ever you come to Rome, fail
not to ask for the wine-shop of Thord the Northman. By the beard of Irmin, I
will give you the best, though I borrow it from Caesar!"
They shook hands
again; after which the exchange of clothes was effected. It was arranged then
that a messenger should go at night to Thord's lodging-place with the four
thousand sestertii. When they were done, the giant knocked at the front door;
it opened to him; and, passing out of the atrium, he led Ben-Hur into a room
adjoining, where the latter completed his attire from the coarse garments of
the dead pugilist. They separated directly in the Omphalus.
"Fail not, O
son of Arrius, fail not the wine-shop near the Great Circus! Ha, ha, ha! By the
beard of Irmin, there was never fortune gained so cheap. The gods keep
you!"
Upon leaving the
atrium, Ben-Hur gave a last look at the myrmidon as he lay in the Jewish
vestments, and was satisfied. The likeness was striking. If Thord kept faith,
the cheat was a secret to endure forever.
At night, in the
house of Simonides, Ben-Hur told the good man all that had taken place in the
palace of Idernee; and it was agreed that, after a few days, public inquiry
should be set afloat for the discovery of the whereabouts of the son of Arrius.
Eventually the matter was to be carried boldly to Maxentius; then, if the
mystery came not out, it was concluded that Messala and Gratus would be at rest
and happy, and Ben-Hur free to betake himself to Jerusalem, to make search for
his lost people.
At the
leave-taking, Simonides sat in his chair out on the terrace overlooking the
river, and gave his farewell and the peace of the Lord with the impressment of
a father. Esther went with the young man to the head of the steps.
"If I find
my mother, Esther, thou shalt go to her at Jerusalem, and be a sister to
Tirzah."
And with the
words he kissed her.
Was it only a
kiss of peace?
He crossed the
river next to the late quarters of Ilderim, where he found the Arab who was to
serve him as guide. The horses were brought out.
"This one is
thine," said the Arab.
Ben-Hur looked,
and, lo! it was Aldebaran, the swiftest and brightest of the sons of Mira, and,
next to Sirius, the beloved of the sheik; and he knew the old man's heart came
to him along with the gift.
The corpse in the
atrium was taken up and buried by night; and, as part of Messala's plan, a
courier was sent off to Gratus to make him at rest by the announcement of
Ben-Hur's death - this time past question.
Ere long a
wine-shop was opened near the Circus Maximus, with inscription over the door:
THORD THE NORTHMAN.
