"I do but defile myself to speak with you, worshipper of idols,"
sternly spake the priest. "And yet I am constrained to instruct you.
Listen--there is a power which even Rome has not been able to conquer.
Know you what power it is?"
The young tribune was recounting the peoples of the earth, when Zacharias continued:
"'Tis the G.o.d of the Jews. Rome has conquered his people, but mark how he stands. And what is there of wrong that his law cannot remedy?
Tell me, is there no injustice in your land?"
"There is much," said the young Roman.
"And so I know--but name it."
"Well, for one thing, men torture and kill their slaves."
"And in the law of the one G.o.d 'tis written, 'Thou shalt not kill.'"
After a thoughtful moment Vergilius added: "And the strong prey upon the weak, seizing their property and holding it for their own."
"And the one G.o.d commands, 'Thou shalt not steal'; and again, 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his a.s.s, nor anything that is thy neighbor's.'"
"But you have injustice, also, in Judea."
"Ay, because there be evil men who obey not the law of G.o.d. But presently they shall be put to shame. Here is he that is come to prepare the way of the Lord."
The child was now asleep, his head on his father's knee.
"John," said the priest, tenderly looking down.
But the little one continued to sleep, and a wonderful peace and beauty had come upon him.
"And this new king--whence shall he come and how shall we know him?"
the young Roman persisted.
"Conceived of G.o.d, he is now in the womb of his mother," said the priest. "Soon--very soon, he shall enter the gate of the world. The ground is ready and he shall be like a sower, and his seed shall be love, and peace shall be his harvest. If ye would know him, behold this face."
He touched the brow of the child. "Son of darkness," he continued, "look upon the son of light! The faith of Mizraim or the wisdom of Hillel could show you no more. Do you see the new light shining within this lovely veil of flesh? Look, and you shall know the fashion of his countenance, and that his hand shall make no wound."
The priest rose, and, lifting the child in his arms, went away, saying, "His peace be with you."
The young Roman stood looking at the sweet face that lay on the shoulder of him departing. The great hope of Judea had entered his heart--the hope of a just king to rule the nations and point the way to eternal life.
On his return he bought a statue representing a beautiful young boy.
He set it up in his chamber, and, kneeling, prayed to it as the one G.o.d who forbade killing and theft and every evil practice of men. He prayed for understanding; he prayed, also, that he might see her he loved. But this new G.o.d seemed as deaf to his entreaty as had been those of the pagan temples. Groping for light, he turned to the young David. Then first he learned that G.o.d, being jealous, hated the image of everything that has the breath of life. His understanding had diminished, for, in this matter, the one G.o.d was like the many. He questioned the Jew. "Wonder not," said his friend, "that G.o.d hates the symbol of ancient error. It has been as a cloud upon the sun."
Vergilius had taken a palace and filled it with treasures, for, possibly, he had thought, some day she would see all. Now its n.o.ble statues were sent away--a kind of sacrifice to the G.o.d of the Jews.
But there was one he could not part with--a copy of the lovely Venus of Alcamenes which his mother had sent to him. He concealed her in a closet, contenting himself with a furtive glance at her now and then.
He set up in his fancy a giant of benevolent face, and humbly sought his favor. Still he had no success.
Lying at table one night with Manius and Ben Joreb, he sought counsel of the latter.
"He that hath his prayer hath prayed wisely," said the priest. "You have much to learn."
"How, and of whom?" said Vergilius.
"There is in Jerusalem a council of learned men. They expound the Scripture and study all mysteries of the faith."
"And who are they?"
"I would I knew. Being wise, they are unknown."
"Unknown!"
"So I have heard. They have knowledge of him who is to come, and Herod is very jealous."
"True," said Vergilius. "I would I were of them who know."
"If it may be so you shall have word tomorrow," said the priest.
Promptly Manius relieved the tension of curiosity.
"Vergilius, I drink to you--the new commander of the cohorts," said he, rising.
"I reserve my thanks for more information," said Vergilius.
"It will come," said Manius, who then left with the priest in his company.
Soon the former added, in a low tone: "He may be of some value before he dies."
"Ah, yes, but he will die young," said the other.
CHAPTER 15
Next day among his letters were two of value in the history of Vergilius--one from the procurator, apprising him of his appointment to command the cohorts, the other a communication with no signature, the source of which was, in his view, quite apparent. This latter one gave him the greater satisfaction. It conveyed, in formal script, the following message:
"TO ONE SEEKING WISDOM IN PRAYER
"If you would share in the deliberations of the Council of the Covenant, be at the well of Nicanor, which is opposite the tenth column in the king's portico of the temple, at the second sounding of the sacred horns on the Day of Atonement. There wait until one shall come and ask what you are seeking, and you shall answer, 'Knowledge of the one G.o.d.' Then, if he turns away, follow him and do as he bids you."
His opportunity had come. He waited with the curiosity of a child.
Soon, possibly, he should see the face of the great Lawgiver and learn of things beyond the valley of death. If all went well he would amaze the people of Rome with wonder stories and give them a.s.surance of immortal life.
The city had been thronged with pilgrims that day of the ancient festival. It was turning dusk when Vergilius made his way through crowded streets to the well of Nicanor. Suddenly he heard a trumpet signal, and then followed that moment of silence when every tongue and foot and wheel stopped, quickly, and all stood listening for the awful name spoken but once a year.