Alroy | Page 2

shall be a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving! And spare not the wine, nor the flesh-pots for the people. Look you to this, my child, for the people shouted bravely and with a stout voice. It was not as the great shout in the camp when the ark returned; nevertheless, it was boldly done, and showed that the glory had not yet departed. So spare not the wine, my son, and drink to the desolation of Ishmael in the juice which he dare not quaff.'
'It has indeed been a great day for Israel!' exclaimed Caleb, echoing his master's exultation.
'Had the procession been forbidden,' continued Bostenay, 'had it been reserved for me of all the princes to have dragged the accursed tribute upon foot, without trumpets and without guards, by this sceptre, my good Caleb, I really think that, sluggishly as this old blood now runs, I would---- But it is needless now to talk; the God of our fathers hath been our refuge.'
'Verily, my lord, we were as David in the wilderness of Ziph; but now we are as the Lord's anointed in the stronghold of Engedi!'
'The glory truly has not yet utterly departed,' resumed the Prince in a more subdued tone; 'yet if---- I tell you what, Caleb; praise the Lord that you are young.'
'My Prince too may yet live to see the good day.'
'Nay, my child, you misinterpret me. Your Prince has lived to see the evil day. 'Twas not of the coming that I thought when I bid you praise the Lord because you were young, the more my sin. I was thinking, Caleb, that if your hair was as mine, if you could recollect, like me, the days that are gone by, the days when it needed no bride to prove we were princes,?the glorious days when we led captivity captive; I was thinking, I say, my son, what a gainful heritage it is to be born after the joys that have passed away.'
'My father lived at Babylon,' said Caleb. 'Oh! name it not! name it not!' exclaimed the old chieftain. 'Dark was the day that we lost that second Zion! We were then also slaves to the Egyptian; but verily we ruled over the realm of Pharaoh. Why, Caleb, Caleb, you who know all, the days of toil, the nights restless as a love-sick boy's, which it has cost your Prince to gain permission to grace our tribute-day with the paltry presence of half-a-dozen guards; you who know all my difficulties, who have witnessed all my mortifications, what would you say to the purse of dirhems, surrounded by seven thousand scimitars?'
'Seven thousand scimitars!' 'Not one less; my father flourished one.' 'It was indeed a great day for Israel!' 'Nay, that is nothing. When old Alroy was prince, old David Alroy, for thirty years, good Caleb, thirty long years we paid no tribute to the Caliph.'
'No tribute! no tribute for thirty years! What marvel then, my Prince, that the Philistines have of late exacted interest?'
'Nay, that is nothing,' continued old Bostenay, unmindful of his servant's ejaculations. 'When Moctador was Caliph, he sent to the same Prince David, to know why the dirhems were not brought up, and David immediately called to horse, and, attended by all the chief people, rode to the palace, and told the Caliph that tribute was an acknowledgment made from the weak to the strong to insure protection and support; and, inasmuch as he and his people had garrisoned the city for ten years against the Seljuks, he held the Caliph in arrear.'
'We shall yet see an ass mount a ladder,'[1] exclaimed Caleb, with uplifted eyes of wonder.
'It is true, though,' continued the Prince; 'often have I heard my father tell the tale. He was then a child, and his mother held him up to see the procession return, and all the people shouted "The sceptre has not gone out of Jacob."'
'It was indeed a great day for Israel.'
'Nay, that is nothing. I could tell you such things! But we prattle; our business is not yet done. You to the people; the widow and the orphan are waiting. Give freely, good Caleb, give freely; the spoils of the Canaanite are no longer ours, nevertheless the Lord is still our God, and, after all, even this is a great day for Israel. And, Caleb, Caleb, bid my nephew, David Alroy, know that I would speak with him.'
'I will do all promptly, good master! We wondered that our honoured lord, your nephew, went not up with the donation this day.'
'Who bade you wonder? Begone, sir! How long are you to idle here? Away!
'They wonder he went not up with the tribute to-day. Ay! surely, a common talk. This boy will be our ruin, a prudent hand to wield our shattered sceptre. I have observed