Deborah: A tale of the times of Judas Maccabaeus — John Shaqi
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
"Met you not my daughter? You sent for her? No? I understand it not.
One came bringing as a token a bit of the lad's clothing, and pledged
to take her where the lost might be found. I thought the messenger had
come from you. Ere I could detain her, Deborah was gone. Was it not you
that sent? May I believe a Greek? Trifle not, I beseech you, with one
whose life-thread can endure but little more. My daughter! O give me my
daughter! If harm has come to her through thee, the curse of the Lord
rot thy bones! O my child! My child!"
"It is the trick of the soldiers. They thought to get Deborah too,"
cried Caleb.
"Alas," said Dion, "that you were not blind, and could see to take me
to the place where they kept you before the General sent for you."
"That I can do," said the boy. "I saw all the way."
"Saw?"
"Aye, with my feet and with my nostrils and with my ears, I saw
everything. Outside the walls we went down, down, down; it must have
been to cross the Kedron. Then we went up, up, up, fully halfway the
ascent toward Bethany. We went close to a cactus hedge, for I felt on
my cheeks the cool air the cactus breathes. Then over a broken wall,
for I fell among the stones. Next a house, high and of smooth mortar
walls, for I can tell such things by the echo one's footfall makes. The
tent we stopped at was near where horses, as many as threescore, were
tethered; this I knew from their neighing. It is an old camp, for the
odor of the dung was old."
"I have the spot," said Dion. "It is the camp of Cleanthes. Let me
away! But Glaucon, your Benjamin, does well?" bending a moment over the
sleeping form.
"So said the surgeon you brought," replied Elkiah. "But haste! O God of
Abraham, take my son if Thou wilt, but spare, oh, spare, my Deborah!
God be merciful! Thy billows are gone over me. Spare me that I may see
again the face of my child, and gather strength before I go hence, and
be no more!"
Caleb's judgment that Deborah had been decoyed by the soldiers proved
true. Her guide led her to the palace of Apollonius. On the way she
passed the roysterers returning from the banquet. The presence of the
soldier did not shield her from the insult of their tongues so well as
did her preoccupation with anxiety for her brother. She was left alone
in the antechamber of the Governor. Now and then she inquired in vain
of the passing servants for the blind child. Growing suspicious, she
endeavored to make her escape, but found the exits fastened, as she
tried them one by one.
At length the Governor came to her. He was flushed and unsteady from
the effects of his debauch, and accosted her with maudlin insolence.
"Ah, my pretty Jewess!"
"I came, sir, to claim the blind child, son of Elkiah."
"But suppose I should first claim the daughter of Elkiah. On the street
I let you go, but since you have come to me, well--that is different.
My will must rule in my own palace."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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