Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of JerusalemHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Historical fiction; Jerusalem -- History -- Fiction
“Yes,” answered Nehushta, “because I must. Nay, the words are not kind,
but we are sadly placed, and it is strange to find a true friend in one
whom I have threatened with a knife.”
“I understand,” said Amram gravely. “Let the issue prove me. Now
descend that you may lock the door behind me. When I return I will
stand in the open space yonder with a slave, making pretence to re-bind
a burst bundle of merchandise. Then come down and admit me without
fear.”
When the Phœnician had gone Nehushta sat by her sleeping mistress, and
waited with an anxious heart. Had she done wisely? Would Amram betray
them and send soldiers to conduct them, not to the ship, but to some
dreadful death? Well, if so, at least she would have time to kill her
mistress and herself, and thus escape the cruelties of men. Meanwhile
she could only pray; and pray she did in her fierce, half-savage
fashion, never for herself, but for her mistress whom she loved, and
for the child that, she remembered thankfully, Anna had foretold would
be born and live out its life. Then she remembered also that this same
holy woman had said that its mother’s hours would be few, and at the
thought Nehushta wept.
CHAPTER IV
THE BIRTH OF MIRIAM
The time passed slowly, but none came to disturb them. Three hours
after noon Rachel awoke, refreshed but hungry, and Nehushta had no food
to give her except raw grain, from which she turned. Clearly and in few
words she told her mistress all that had passed, asking her consent to
the plan.
“It seems good as another,” said Rachel with a little sigh, “and I
thank you for making it, Nou, and the Phœnician, if he is a true man.
Also I do not desire to meet my father—at least, for many years. How
can I, seeing the evil which he has brought upon me?”
“Do not speak of that,” interrupted Nehushta hastily, and for a long
while they were silent.
It was an hour before sunset, or a little less, when at length Nehushta
saw two persons walk on to the patch of open ground which she watched
continually—Amram and a slave who bore a bundle on his head. Just then
the rope which bound this bundle seemed to come loose; at least, at his
master’s command, the man set it down and they began to retie it, then
advanced slowly towards the archway. Now Nehushta descended, unlocked
the door and admitted Amram, who carried the bundle.
“Where is the slave?” she asked.
“Have no fear, friend; he is trusty and watches without, not knowing
why. Come, you must both of you be hungry, and I have food. Help me
loose this cord.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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