For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem by G. A. Henty (black books to read txt) 📕

command to his lieutenant, and returning home. The campaign was nearly over; and he could not have followed those rapid marches through the hills which enabled the band to appear, now on one side, now on the other of the Romans, and to keep them in a constant state of watchfulness.

At the same time, he was glad of the excuse to leave for, although he had declared to Titus that he would fight again in defense of Jerusalem, he felt that, after the kind treatment he had met with, he could not take part in the daily skirmishes with the Romans.

Mounting a donkey, which was among the many animals captured in the attacks upon the Romans' baggage train, John bade adieu to his comrades; and with Jonas, now grown into a sturdy young fellow, started for home. He journeyed by the road to the west of Jerusalem, in order to avoid the bandits of Simon son of Gioras; who still scourged the neighborhood of Masada and Herodium, lying between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. He avoided all the towns in which there were Roman garrisons; for the bandages on his head would have shown, at once, that he had been engaged in fighting. He traveled slowly, and was six days before he arrived home.

"This time, my son, you have not come home unharmed," Simon said. "Truly you are a shadow of your former self."

"I shall soon be strong again, father; and these are honorable scars, for I had them in single combat with Titus, himself, in the valley between Hebron and Carmelia."

"Then how is it that you live to tell the tale, my son?" Simon asked, while exclamations of wonder broke from Mary and Martha. "Surely God did not deliver him into your hands?"

"I wish not to boast, father, and I have told the true story to none; but truly God did deliver him into my hands."

"And he is dead?" Simon exclaimed.

"No, father, he lives, for I spared him."

"Spared him!" Simon exclaimed. "What, you did not avenge the miseries of our people upon the son of the oppressor?"

"No, father; and I rejoice that I did not for, had I done so, surely the Romans would have avenged his death upon all the land. But I thought not of that, at the time. I was sore wounded, and bleeding, and my sense was well-nigh gone; but as I knelt upon him, and lifted my hand to slay him, a thought--surely sent by God, himself--came into my mind, and I said:

"'Swear by your gods that you will spare the Temple, or I slay you;' and he swore that, so far as lay in his power, he would spare the Temple."

An exclamation of joy burst from his hearers, and Simon said:

"Verily, my son, God has raised you up as a deliverer of his Temple; not, as some hoped, by defeating our oppressors, but by binding one of their mightiest ones to do it no harm."

"I pray, father, say naught of this to anyone. It is between ourselves, and Titus, and the Lord; and I would not that any man should know of it. Moreover, Titus behaved with the greatest generosity to me.

"My victory over him was but a surprise. I was sorely wounded, while he was almost unharmed, when I sprang upon him and, by the sudden impulse, threw him to the ground, he being burdened with his heavy armor I had but strength to hear him swear, and then I fell as one dead. Titus might have slain me, as I lay; but he not only did me no harm but, when his soldiers came up, he gave me into their care, and directed me to be carried down to his camp, placed in a tent, and tended by his own leech and, when I recovered, he let me go free."

"Truly it is a marvelous tale, John. That you should have fallen into the hands of the Romans, and come forth unharmed after discomfiting their leader, is as marvelous to me as Daniel coming unharmed from the lions' den. We will say naught of your story, my son. Tell us only what you told your own companions, so that we may know what to say, when we are questioned."

"I told them the truth, father, although not all the truth. I said that I met Titus, and fought with him; that I wounded him somewhat; but that, by virtue of his armor, I did him no great harm, while he wounded me so seriously that I fell down as one dead; that he, feeling that I had fought like a brave foeman, had me carried to his tent, and tended and cared for until I was able to go forth; when he sent me away free, and unharmed."

"Truly men say of Titus that he is clement and merciful, and therein differs much from Vespasian his father; and the clemency which he showed to the people of Gischala, and other places which he has taken, proves that is so; but this deed of his to you shows that he must have a great heart, for few men of rank, and warlike fame, who had been discomfited by one yet scarce a man, but would have left him by the road to die, so that none might know what had happened."

"Titus made no secret of it, father," John said. "He told Josephus, in my hearing, that I had spared his life. He said naught of the oath which he had taken; but I know that he will keep it as far, as he said, lies in his power."

"What is he like?" Mary asked.

"He is not of very tall stature, but stoutly built, and strong. His face--clean shaved, as is their custom--has a pleasant and kindly expression, that tallies with his disposition, for he is greatly beloved by his soldiers. In action they say he is brave to rashness, quick to anger, but as quickly appeased. Had he been in command of the Roman legions, they would have been not less formidable in the fight and, perhaps, when the passions of Titus were roused, not less savage; but they would not have wrought such wholesale cruelty and destruction as they have done."

"It is rarely that pity enters into the heart of a Roman," Simon said; "and yet, it is hardly for us to complain for, when we crossed over the Jordan and conquered Canaan, we put all to the sword, and spared none. It may be that in future times, if wars do not altogether cease in the world, they will be waged in another spirit; but so far, from the commencement of the world until now, it has ever been the same--war has brought desolation and destruction upon the vanquished."

The next morning John went early into the garden; not that he was strong enough for heavy work, but in order that Mary might, as usual, join him there.

"Do you know, John," she said, after their first greeting, "you have made me happier than I have been, for some time."

"How is that, Mary?"

"It seemed to me, John, that you were getting away from me."

"Getting away, Mary!" he repeated; "how do you mean?"

"You were becoming a great leader, John. I was proud that it should be so, proud to think that you might become a deliverer of the nation; and then it would have been meet and right that you should take to yourself, as a wife, a daughter of one of the great ones of the land."

"Mary!" John exclaimed, indignantly.

"It might have been necessary, John. The tillers of the soil can marry where they please. Those who have power must wed for other reasons than that of love. They must make alliances that will strengthen their position, and it would have been your duty to have sacrificed your love for the sake of your country. I should have been the first to bid you do so. I should have been content to make my sacrifice, too, on the altar of our country; content with knowing that you, the deliverer of Israel, would have chosen me from among all other women, had you only had your own pleasure and happiness to consult.

"But after what you told us yesterday, I think, perhaps, that this need not be so; and that the way in which you were to save the Temple was not the way we thought. Your mission has been fulfilled--not by great victories, which would have made you the hero of Israel--but in that contest in the valley, where no eyes but those of God beheld you; and should the Temple be saved, no one will know that you were its savior, save we who love you. Therefore, John, once again I can look forward to the time when you and I can dwell, together, in the house of your fathers."

Mary was so earnest that John did not attempt to laugh her out of her fancies, as was his usual way. He only said, quietly:

"Perhaps you are right, Mary, as to my mission; but I do not think, dear, that even had I been made ruler of Israel, I would have gone elsewhere for a wife; but as you say, circumstances might have been too strong for me and, at any rate, I am well pleased that there is no chance of my happiness being set in one scale, and the good of my country in another."

"And now, John, I believe that you will come back to me, even if Jerusalem falls. This is the third time your life has been spared and, if we count that day when we were so nearly drowned together on the lake, we may say that four times your life has been saved, when it seemed all but lost; and I believe, now, that it will be saved to the end."

"I hope for your sake, Mary, and for my father and mother's, that it may be so. I have so much to make my life happy that I will assuredly do all in my power to save it. As you know, I have never held with those who would destroy themselves, when all seemed lost. My idea is: a man should fight until the last; but should, if possible, provide some way of escape, when fighting is no longer of avail.

"Fortunately, if I do not fall in battle, I have a talisman which will bring me safe to you. Titus has given me a signet ring which will, at all times, procure me access to him. He has promised that, at all times, he will be my friend and, should I fall into the hands of his soldiers again, he will let me go free, and will give me the lives of any who may be dear to me."

"This Titus must be a noble enemy," Mary said, with tears in her eyes. "He is strong, and kind, and generous. Had such a man been raised up as the leader of our people, instead of the leader of our foes, how different it might have been!"

"Yes, indeed," John agreed; "truly we are sheep without a shepherd; nay, we are sheep whose leaders are ravening wolves, who devour their own flock."

The time passed, quietly and happily save for the grief which the tidings of the terrible doings in Jerusalem caused. The two years' respite which the city had obtained, when Vespasian marched away from Jericho, instead of being turned to good account, had brought even greater evils than before. Simon son of Gioras, having wasted all the country towards Idumea, began to threaten Jerusalem. The Zealots marched out against him, but were driven back to the city. Simon--thinking that the Idumeans, believing him to be occupied with Jerusalem, would have grown careless--suddenly entered their country at the head of twenty thousand men.

The Idumeans flew to arms, and met him with twenty-five thousand men; and a furious battle ensued, in which neither party gained the advantage. Simon retreated, and the Idumeans dispersed. Simon raised an even larger force than before, and advanced with forty thousand irregular troops, besides his heavy-armed soldiers. They took Hebron, and wasted Idumea with fire and sword.

The Zealots, in Simon's absence, succeeded in capturing his wife; and carried her off to Jerusalem, hoping by this means to force him to come to terms. On receiving the news he hurried back with his forces, surrounded Jerusalem, and slew everyone who ventured to leave the city--except some whom he sent back, having cut off their hands, to tell those within that, unless his wife were returned, he would storm the city and slay every man within it. Even the Zealots were alarmed at his threats and fury, and restored his wife; whereupon he withdrew.

This had happened in the previous year, before Cerealis and Vespasian had entered Idumea. As soon as the Romans had retired, Simon again sallied forth from Masada, collected a great number of Idumeans, and drove them