Deborah: A tale of the times of Judas MaccabaeusLudlow, James M. (James Meeker)
History
Deborah: A tale of the times of Judas Maccabaeus
Ludlow, James M. (James Meeker)
Jewish fiction; Jews -- History -- 586 B.C.-70 A.D. -- Fiction; Maccabees -- Fiction
It was thus not difficult for Deborah to reach without detection the
extreme northeastern angle of the city. She here sat down to watch for
opportunity to pass unobserved into the open ground beyond. She thought
of the old walls at her back, worn by the storms of centuries, and
broken by the war-shocks of many generations; the armored forms close
to her, each one like the claw of the monster power of Syria which was
crushing, tearing, devouring the nation; the great black sky overhead,
like some flying dragon, so vast as to cover and smother the land.
How little was she! Only a single fibre in the writhing flesh of the
victim! Her life was so insignificant! Doubtless before many days she
would lay it down, if she remained in the city; perhaps sooner on this
adventure.
Her fingers felt between them a tiny berry. "I am less than this,"
she thought, "for it may abide when I am gone. Yet if I press this
seed down into the dirt, it will breed life in its decay. May I not
yield something if I fall? What now if I can bring to Judas a hundred
men! That will be worth dying for! He would not allow me to make this
venture if he knew it. That is well; then that brave heart cannot bear
the blame if it miscarry. So I give my life to God and His cause."
She pressed the berry into the ground, and smoothed the dirt above it
with her hand.
The lightning split the heavens with terrific shock. A tower above the
eastern gate caught the bolt as a shield would ward a flaming dart. The
rain came down in torrents. The sentinels retired closer to the walls,
drawing nearer together as their line shortened. In a moment Deborah
would be discovered! But while their eyes were dazed by another crash
she pushed boldly between them and ran.
"What was that?" said a soldier. "I must have stepped upon a jackal."
"It was as big and black as a wolf," was his comrade's reply. "They say
the dead Jews' ghosts come back to the city in wolf shapes."
"I heard one the other night. He seemed, from the noise he made, to be
walking on two legs with a crutch; but when I came to him he darted in
among the bushes, and back to Hades; for there wasn't a sign of him
above ground."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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