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
Nehushta obeyed and Rachel went on: “So soon as my breath has left me,
take the babe and seek some village on the shore where it can be
nursed, for which service you have the means to pay. Then when she is
strong enough and it is convenient, travel, not to Tyre—for there my
father would bring up the child in the strictest rites and customs of
the Jews—but to the village of the Essenes upon the shores of the Dead
Sea. There find out my mother’s brother, Ithiel, who is of their
society, and present to him the tokens of my name and birth which still
hang about my neck, and tell him all the story, keeping nothing back.
He is not a Christian, but he is a good and gentle-hearted man who
thinks well of Christians, and is grieved at their persecution, since
he wrote to my father reproving him for his deeds towards us and, as
you know, strove, but in vain, to bring about our release from prison.
Say to him that I, his kinswoman, pray of him, as he will answer to
God, and in the name of the sister whom he loved, to protect my child
and you; to do nothing to turn her from her faith, and in all things to
deal with her as his wisdom shall direct—for so shall peace and
blessing come upon him.”
Thus spoke Rachel, but in short and broken words. Then she began to
pray, and, praying, fell asleep. When she woke again the dawn was
breaking. Signing to Nehushta to bring her the child, for now she could
no longer speak, she scanned it earnestly in the new-born light, then
placed her hand upon its head and blessed it. Nehushta she blessed
also, thanking her with her eyes and kissing her. Then again she seemed
to fall asleep, and presently, when Nehushta looked at her, Rachel was
dead.
Nehushta understood and gave a great and bitter cry, since to her after
the death of her first mistress, this woman had been all her life. As a
child she had nursed her; as a maiden shared her joys and sorrows; as a
wife and widow toiled day and night fiercely and faithfully to console
her in her desolation and to protect her in the dreadful dangers
through which she had passed. Now, to end it all, it was her lot to
receive her last breath and to take into her arms her new-born infant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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