The Coming of the King | Page 2

Hear thou--the children calling--calling?"
The woman went to the door. She listened a moment and as the wail of a child sounded over the court she said, "Aye, sore weeping. Why, Jesu?"
"Jael's father went away yester morning and hath not come again. A man saw him with many others driven in chains like cattle. A stain of blood was on his face--and he will not come again. Why did the soldiers take Jael's father?"
"Hist, child. Talk not of Jael's father. Run and play."
* * * * * *
The next morning before the rising sun had climbed above Mount Tabor, little Jesu with his peasant mother left Nazareth, carrying between them a new-made yoke. They had not yet reached the end of the footpath around the slope of the hill to the highway, when they heard a heart-sickening moan.
The child stopped suddenly saying, "Something doth suffer?"
The woman took a few steps forward and looked out into the roadway. Then she too stopped, and with a sharp cry threw her hand across her eyes. Having received no answer to his inquiry the child pushed past her to the highroad. Then he too gave a cry, half fear, half pain, saying, "It is the father of Jael--and, mother--mother--there is a dog." And with a scream he dashed into the roadway. As he did so an animal slunk across his path and disappeared behind a cactus thicket hedging a barley field.
The moan gave way to a feeble call as the child appeared. "Jesu! Jesu, I thirst!" were the words the parched lips uttered.
Helpless, the man hung crucified. The cross was not more than four feet high, all in this wholesale crucifixion being purposely low that wild dogs and jackals might tear the vitals, the bodies thus exposed emphasizing the power and cruelty of Rome. Naked the crucified one hung, his palms clotted with blood where spikes held them on the green cross-beam, and the wood behind the body stained dark from thong-cuts on the back. His legs lay on the ground. Flies swarmed wherever there was blood and the gray face of the victim was yet grayer from dust cast up by travelers on the roadway.
"Jesu! Jesu! Water for my burning tongue!" the man moaned.
"Give him to drink," the woman said in low tones to the child, who stood before the cross, his large dark eyes fixed on the helpless one in horror and in pity. "Give him water and I will watch that none spy you at the deed. Hasten!"
The child opened his water-bottle and held it toward the lips of the man. Pinioned hands, stiffened shoulders and weakened muscles made the effort to drink difficult. Pulling his kerchief from his neck, the child sopped it with water and held it to the dry lips.
In wavering tones the man, refreshed, said, "Since yester noon have I hung here. With the morning came the dog; thrice came he sniffing. Once, before weakness overcame me, with kicking and fierce screams I frightened the brute. Again, a herdsman drove him far across the field. And now you come, Jesu. Ah, that you might tarry until the numbness creeping over my back where the flies swarm, and into my hands that have burned, reached my brain, that you might stay until the darkness of death hides from me the skulking form waiting to rend my flesh."
"Woman," said the child, raising his dark eyes to his mother's face, "dost fear to leave me?"
"Yea, my little one, lest seeing thee minister to a malefactor some spy or guard might take thee."
"And would they take one young like me, who never did Rome harm?"
"All do Rome harm who cry beneath her heel."
"I fear not. I can hide in the bushes and keep the evil beast away. And when the road is clear I can wet the dry lips of Jael's father."
The woman hesitated.
"Canst carry the burden alone, woman?" and there was concern in the child's voice. "The way is long, the road rough and the yoke a heavy one."
"The burden is naught save the burden of fear on my heart lest thou meet harm, my beloved one--my little Jesu!"
"Be not afraid. Will not the God of our fathers save me from the soldier's spear as once our father David was saved from the spear of Saul? Find me but a stout club with which to keep the bristled dog from Jael's father."
Throughout the day the child kept watch over the cross and its victim by the dusty wayside. There were passers-by, most of them Galileans muttering curses on the powers that had put him on the cross, but offering no comfort to the malefactor. Twice the gaunt dog came nearer but drew back before the raised club, and with blinking eye and restless tongue, bided his time. As the sun dropped