Tarry thou till I come; or, Salathiel, the wandering Jew.Croly, George
General
Tarry thou till I come; or, Salathiel, the wandering Jew.
Croly, George
Wandering Jew -- Fiction
“Salathiel,” said she, with mingled fervor and softness, “you know I
love you; never was heart more fondly bound to another than is mine to
you. I am grateful for your permission to receive Constantius into our
tribe. But one obligation, infinitely dearer, you can confer on me—read
this scroll.” She drew from her bosom a letter, written to his church
by one of the Christian leaders in Asia. “I desire not to offend your
convictions, nor to hasten you into a rash adoption of those of others.
But in this scroll you will find philosophy without its pride, and
knowledge without its guile; you will find, furthermore, the disclosure
of those mysteries which have so long perplexed our people. Read, and may
He who can bring wisdom out of the lips of babes, and make the wisdom
of the wise foolishness, shed His light upon the generous heart of my
husband!”
At another time I might have started in horror from this avowal of her
faith. But the scene, the circumstances, an unaccountable internal
impression—a voice of the soul, prohibited me. I took her trembling hand,
and without a word led her down to our dwelling.
CHAPTER XVI
_The Heart of Salome_
[Sidenote: Salathiel Again Travels Homeward]
No tidings sooner make themselves known than those of the heart. We
found our daughters waiting anxiously at the entrance of the cave, which
had been fitted up for our temporary shelter. Before a word could be
exchanged, a glance from Miriam told the success of her mission, and
anxiety was turned into delight. Esther danced round me and was eloquent
in her gratitude. Salome shed silent tears, and when I attempted to wipe
them away, fell fainting into my arms. We spent a part of the night in
the open air; the last wine and fruits of our store were brought out;
the Cypriot exiles came down from their rocks; the crew of the galley,
already on board, danced, sang, and drank to the success of the voyage;
and it was not till the moon, our only lamp, was about to be extinguished
in the waters, that we thought of closing our final night on the Syrian
shore.
[Sidenote: A Surprising Change]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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