For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem, G. A. Henty [classic english novels txt] 📗

his horse--what a crash he made! I heard the clang of his arms, as I was running. They stopped near one of the villages they burned as we went past; and when I turned to make my way here their fires were burning, so there's no doubt they mean to halt there for the night."

"That is good news, indeed!" John said. "Before morning we will rouse them up in a way they little expect."

John's followers arrived eager for the fight, for the news of the devastations committed by this party of Romans had roused the whole district to fury. As a rule the Romans, except when actually on a campaign, abstained from all ill treatment of the inhabitants--the orders against plundering and injuring the people being here, as in other countries held by the Roman arms, very stringent. In the present case, there was no doubt that Roman soldiers had been killed; but these had brought their fate upon themselves, by their ill treatment and insult of the villagers, and no notice would have been taken of the slaying of men while acting in disobedience of orders, had it not been that they belonged to the company of Servilius Maro.

He was a young noble, possessed of great influence in Rome, and of a ferocious and cruel disposition; and he had urged the general so strongly to allow him to go out, to inflict punishment upon the country people, that consent had reluctantly been given. But even at this time, although the Jews were not aware of it, a messenger was on his way to Servilius with peremptory orders to him to return at once to Scythopolis, as most serious reports as to his cruelty to peaceful inhabitants had come to the general's ears.

But that message Servilius was never to receive. By midnight, upwards of four hundred men had gathered at the rendezvous in the mountains. John divided the force into four bodies, and gave each their orders as to the part that they were to take; and then marched down the hill, crossed the river, and advanced towards the Roman bivouac.

When within a quarter of a mile of the fires, the band broke up into sections and proceeded to surround the enemy. When each company reached the position John had marked out for it, the men began to crawl slowly forward towards the Romans. John sounded a note on his horn and, with a shout, the whole band rushed to their feet and charged down upon the enemy. Before the latter could spring to their feet, and mount their horses, the Jews were among them.

John, with a picked band of twenty men, at once made his way to the center of the camp; where the captives, ignorant of the cause of this sudden alarm, stood huddled together. Placing his men around them, to prevent any Roman soldier injuring them, John joined in the fray.

It was short. Taken by surprise, unable to get together and form in order of defense, the Roman soldiers were surrounded and cut down, each man fighting stubbornly to the last. One of the first to fall was their leader who, springing to his feet at the alarm, had rushed just as he was, without helmet or armor, among his soldiers, and was stabbed in a dozen places before he had time to draw his sword.

The moment the conflict was over, and the last Roman had fallen, John ordered his men to disperse, at once.

"Regain your homes before morning," he said. "There may be other parties of Romans out, and it is as well that none, even of your friends, should see you return; and then the Romans will have no clue as to those who have taken part in this night's business. Take not any of their arms, or spoils. We have fought for vengeance, and to relieve our friends, not for plunder. It is well that the Romans should see that, when they hear of the disaster and march out to bury the dead."

The men were already crowding round the captives, relieving them from their bonds and, in many cases, embracing and weeping on their necks, for among them were many friends and relations of the rescuing party.

John soon found Mary.

"Is this a miracle you have performed, John?" the girl said. "Can it be true that our captors have been slain, and that we are free?"

"Yes, dear, we can continue our journey."

"But how has it happened, John; how has it all come about?"

"Jonas and I escaped, as I suppose you know, Mary."

"There was a great confusion and stir upon the road," Mary said, "but I did not know what had happened, until we got here. Then some of the men said that two of the captives had escaped; and that one of them jumped on to the horse of the officer and overthrew him, and had ridden off. They said they were both young and, as I missed you both from among the party, I thought it must have been you.

"But how did all these men come together?"

"I rode round the country, calling upon the young men in the villages to take up arms, to rescue their friends who had been carried away captive into slavery, and to revenge the destruction which this band of ruffians had caused. There were plenty of brave men ready to undertake the task and, as you see, we have carried it out.

"And now, Mary, we had best be going. You see, the others are dispersing fast; and it is as well to be as far from here, by morning, as possible. A troop of Roman horse may come along, journeying between Scythopolis and Capitolias; and if they came upon this camp, they might scour all the country."

"I am ready, John. What a fate you have saved me from! I have seemed in a dream, ever since the Romans met us this afternoon. I have tried to think of what my life was going to be, but could not. When we got here I tried to weep, but no tears would come. I have been sitting there, as still and cold as if frozen, till I heard the notes of a horn.

"Oh, John, do you know John of Gamala was there?"

"How do you know, Mary?" John asked, in surprise.

"One of the young men who was a captive was lying near, and he leaped to his feet when the horn sounded, and shouted, 'There is John of Gamala's horn; we are saved.' Did you know he was with you?"

"Yes, I knew he was," John said.

"You won't say anything against him, again," Mary said. "Why did you not bring him here to us, that we might thank him?"

"Certainly I will not say anything against him, in future, Mary.

"And now, let us be going. I am very anxious about my poor mother. We will follow the road to the spot where we left her. By the time we get there, morning will be breaking. We will inquire for her, at every village we pass through; for I am sure she cannot have gone far. The Romans did not take the asses but, even with them, she could not have traveled far, and probably took shelter at the first place which she came to."

This proved to be the case. At the first village they arrived at after passing the spot at which they had been taken captives, they heard that, late the evening before, a woman had arrived in sore distress. She was leading two asses, which she seemed too feeble to mount. She stated that her son and daughter had been carried away by the Romans; and she had been received, for the night, in the principal house in the village.

Martha's delight, when John and Mary entered the house where she had been sheltered, was beyond words. She fell on their neck and kissed them, with broken sentences of thankfulness to God at their deliverance; and it was some time before she was sufficiently calm to hear how their escape had been effected, by the night attack upon the Romans by the country people. She was scarcely surprised when she heard that John had effected his escape, and summoned the people to rise to rescue them.

"You told me to trust to you to save Mary, John; and I have kept on saying your words, over and over again, to myself. It seemed to me as if I did not quite understand them, and yet there was comfort in them. I could not even think what you could do to help Mary; and yet it appeared as if you, yourself, must have some hope."

As soon as Martha was sufficiently recovered from her emotions to resume their journey, the party again started. They made a detour to avoid Hippos for, as John said, there might be inquiries as to everyone who was noticed coming from the direction of the scene of the struggle. They made many halts by the way, for Martha was scarcely able to retain her seat on the donkey, and even Mary was greatly shaken by the event of her captivity and rescue. During the heat of the day they remained under the shade of some trees, and the sun was setting when they approached the farm.

Simon and the men hurried out, when the sound of the asses' feet was heard. Martha burst into tears, as he assisted her to alight.

"What ails you, wife? I trust that no evil has befallen you by the way. Where are the maids?

"Why, Mary, my child, you look pale, too!"

"No wonder, uncle, that aunt is shaken, and that I look pale. For John, and I, and Jonas were taken captives by the Romans, who carried us off to sell as slaves, leaving poor mother behind."

"And how then have you escaped, child?"

"John and Jonas got away from them, and raised all the country; for the Romans had done much harm, killing, and carrying away captives, and burning. So when he called them the men took up arms, and fell upon the Romans at night and slew them all, and rescued me, and some fifty other captives who had fallen into their hands."

Simon asked no further questions, for the time, but helped Martha into the house, and then handed her over to the care of Mary and, half an hour later, she had recovered sufficiently to return to the room; and sit there, holding Simon's hand in quiet happiness, and watching Mary as she resumed her accustomed tasks, and assisted old Isaac in preparing supper.

"Everything looks just as it was, mother. I could hardly have believed things would have got on so well, without me to look after them. And there are quantities of grapes on the vines, still. They are too ripe for wine, but they will last us, for eating, for months, and that is ever so much better than making them into wine--"

She stopped, for Simon had taken his place at the head of the table; and offered up thanks, in the name of the whole household, for the mercies that had been vouchsafed to them; and especially that they were all, once again, assembled together in their house, without there being one vacant place.

Then the meal began. While it was eaten, many questions were asked, on both sides; Simon inquiring about his brother-in-law, and his family, and the life they had led at the farm; Martha asking after their neighbors--who had suffered, and who had escaped without loss or harm. When Isaac and the men retired, Jonas rose also to go, but Simon stopped him.

"Remain with us, Jonas. Your life has been strangely cast in that of John's, and I would that, henceforth, you take your place as one of the family. You saved his life at Jotapata, and you will henceforth be as an adopted son to me.

"Martha, I know that you will spare some of your affection for the lad, who is as a younger brother to John; and who would, I believe--nay I feel sure--if need be, give his life for his friend."

"I would do so, indeed," Jonas said, simply. "He found me an outcast, whom none cared for. He has treated me like a brother, and I would gladly die for him."

Martha said a few kind words to Jonas, whose quiet and somewhat subdued manner, and whose evident affection for John, had greatly pleased her; and Mary gave him a little nod, which signified that she gladly accepted him as one of the family.

"And now, Martha," Simon said, "you have not yet told me how proud you must feel, in the doings of our son. Our friends here are never weary of congratulating me; and truly I feel thankful that a son of mine should have done such deeds, and that the Lord should have chosen him, to use him as an instrument of his will."

"My dear father," John interrupted, "I have told you that there is nothing