The Coming of the King | Page 4

down and sup with us."
"Thy hospitality exceedeth thy stores," he answered, "yet could I not swallow food if thy table did groan with milk and honey."
"Thou art not sick?" Sara asked, concern in her voice.
"Nay, and yet have I a fever, the consuming fever of wrath, for again hath the tax-gatherer been abroad. Robbed are our tables of fat, milk and honey; lean are our bellies for food; stripped are our bodies of covering. Yet doth the tax ever increase that Herod may add to his vast stores. It is tax--tax--tax until at night the waves of the sea beat against the shore calling 'Tax--tax,' and in the solitary places the wild dogs bark 'Tax--tax,' and in the homes of the peasant the children cry for bread while over their roofs the wind calls 'Tax--tax.'"
"It was not so in the days of our fathers," Grandmother Rachael muttered, beating her palms slowly together.
"Her heart is not without Israel's hope of the coming of the King even though her lips make much muttering," Sara said, as Jael turned to the aged woman who again wailed:
"It was not so in the days of our fathers."
"Nay, nor will it ever be so in the days of our fathers' sons," he answered her. "Was it for this that Israel was called to be God's chosen people--this--that they should toil and starve and be spit upon by heathen dogs? That they should till the soil and be robbed of the increase that Herod might buy gold platters in which to serve good Jew heads to dancing harlots? It hath been and ever will be among men struggling for bread, as among dogs fighting over a carcass that the strong shall overcome the weak. But our fathers every fifty years took back the land from the strong and gave it again to the toiler that he might have a new start. So shall it be."
While he had been speaking he had dropped the leather curtain hanging at the door. Sara lit a lamp.
"And when shall come again the days of our fathers?" Grandmother Rachael asked.
"When we rise up and wrest from the oppressor our stolen inheritance."
"Aye, but, my Jael, hast thou forgotten the Gaulonite?" Sara asked. "Did he not with two thousand followers rise up to take back the land? And were not his followers hanged on two thousand crosses until the wild dogs of Palestine broke their fast on Jewish flesh?"
Jael had grown excited as Sara questioned him. He paced the floor. "Yea," he answered, "yea, did wild dogs feast on Jewish flesh, even the flesh of thy Jael's father! Forget not shall I until the stone of my father's tomb be rolled against my bones, how he was hung where two roads meet! Forget will I--nor forgive. And in the time of Israel's revenge will my own hands spill blood to settle the debt."
"Sh- sh- sh-" warned Sara. "Methought I saw the curtain move. Fear even now doth catch my heart in its pinching fingers."
"Fear not, my fair Sara," Jael said. "Could harm befall thee with Jael, the fisherman, nigh? Look thou at the strength of my arm and the keen edge of my tough fishing knife!" and he held forth his shining blade.
"Not for myself do I feel fear, but for thee. Thy life would not be worth a farthing were thy fierce words heard by the dogs of Rome. Thy knife is long and keen, but the sword of the enemy is longer--and methought the curtain moved again."
"Nay, but to stay thy fears I will look."
Jael turned toward the door but had taken only a step when the leather was thrust aside and two soldiers sprang in.
"Jael! Thy strong arm! Thy knife!" Sara cried.
"Give me the knife, dog of a Jew," commanded one of the soldiers, drawing his sword. "Give me, else will I strike thy head from thy body and kick it like offal into the darkness of the night! Give me," and he held out his hand.
"Get the knife," was Jael's reply as he flung it through the uncovered door.
"By the gods! Now shalt thou come before the bar of justice to answer the charge of sedition against the mighty Caesar and his king, thy Herod."
"Nay, no king of mine is that Idumean fox whose brother's wife doth defile his bed. Such for Rome, but not for Israel!"
"Dog of a Jew!"
"Swine of a Roman!"
For a moment the two measured glances. Then Jael was seized on each side by one of the soldiers, the first spitting in his face with the question, "Swine of a Roman am I?"
"Yea, verily--son of a she-swine," and Jael blew the contents of his mouth in the face of the soldier, who struck him across the cheek with his sword, exclaiming: "This for thy portion to-night, then