believe I will," said Joel, after considering the matter. "I'll go just as soon as I can get them made."
Ruth spread many a little feast under the fig-trees; but after the first birthday banquet, Jesse was her only guest. Joel was too busy making more dishes and another little table, to partake of them.
The whole family were interested in his success. The day he went up to the great house near the garrison to offer them for sale, they waited anxiously for his return.
"He's sold them! He's sold them!" cried Jesse, hopping from one foot to the other, as he saw Joel coming down the street empty-handed. Joel was hobbling along as fast as he could, his face beaming.
"See how much money!" he cried, as he opened his hand to show a shining coin, stamped with the head of Cæsar. "And I have an order for two more. I'll soon have a fortune! The children liked the dishes so much, although they had the most beautiful toys I ever saw. They had images they called dolls. Some of them had white-kid faces, and were dressed as richly as queens. I wish Ruth had one."
"The law forbids!" exclaimed Phineas. "Have you forgotten that it is written, 'Thou shalt not make any likeness of anything in the heavens above or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth'? She is happy with what she has, and needs no strange idols of the heathen to play with."
Joel made no answer; but he thought of the merry group of Roman children seated around the little table he had made, and wished again that Ruth had one of those gorgeously dressed dolls.
Skill and strength were not all he gained by his winter's work; for some of the broad charity that made continual summer in the heart of Phineas crept into his own embittered nature. He grew less suspicious of those around him, and smiles came more easily now to his face than scowls.
But the strong ambition of his life never left him for an instant. To all the rest of the world he might be a friend; to Rehum he could only be the most unforgiving of enemies.
The thought that had given him most pleasure when the wealthy Roman had tossed him his first earnings, was not that his work could bring him money, but that the money could open the way for his revenge.
That thought, like a dark undercurrent, gained depth and force as the days went by. As he saw how much he could do in spite of his lameness, he thought of how much more he might have accomplished, if he had been like other boys. It was a constant spur to his desire for revenge.
One day Phineas laid aside his tools much earlier than usual, and without any explanation to his wondering pupil, went up into the town.
When he returned, he nodded to his wife, who sat in the doorway spinning, and who had looked up inquiringly as he approached.
"Yes, it's all arranged," he said to her. Then he turned to Joel to ask, "Did you ever ride on a camel, my boy?"
"No, Rabbi," answered the boy, in surprise, wondering what was coming next.
"Well, I have a day's journey to make to the hills in Upper Galilee. A camel caravan passes near the place where my business calls me, as it goes to Damascus. I seek to accompany it for protection. I go on foot, but I have made arrangements for you to ride one of the camels."
"Oh, am I really to go, too?" gasped Joel, in delighted astonishment. "Oh, Rabbi Phineas! How did you ever think of asking me?"
"You have not seemed entirely well, of late," was the answer. "I thought the change would do you good. I said nothing about it before, for I had no opportunity to see your uncle until this afternoon; and I did not want to disappoint you, in case he refused his permission."
"And he really says I may go?" demanded the boy, eagerly.
"Yes, the caravan moves in the morning, and we will go with it."
There was little more work done that day. Joel was so full of anticipations of his journey that he scarcely knew what he was doing. Phineas was busy with preparations for the comfort of his little family during his absence, and went into town again.
On his return he seemed strangely excited. Abigail, seeing something was amiss, watched him carefully, but asked no questions. He took a piece of timber that had been laid away for some especial purpose, and began sawing it into small bits.
"Rabbi Phineas," ventured Joel, respectfully, "is that not the wood you charged me to save so carefully?"
Phineas gave a start as he saw what he had done, and threw down his saw.
"Truly," he said, smiling, "I am beside myself with the news I have heard. I just now walked ten cubits past my own house, unknowing where I was, so deeply was I thinking upon it. Abigail," he asked, "do you remember my friend in Nazareth whom I so often speak of, – the son of Joseph the carpenter? Last week he was bidden to a marriage in Cana. It happened, before the feasting was over, the supply of wine was exhausted, and the mortified host knew not what to do. Six great jars of stone had been placed in the room, to supply the guests with water for washing. He changed that water into wine!"
"I cannot believe it!" answered Abigail, simply.
"But Ezra ben Jared told me so. He was there, and drank of the wine," insisted Phineas.
"He could not have done it," said Abigail, "unless he were helped by the evil one, or unless he were a prophet. He is too good a man to ask help of the powers of darkness; and it is beyond belief that a son of Joseph should be a prophet."
To this Phineas made no answer. His quiet thoughts were shaken out of their usual routine as violently as if by an earthquake.
Joel thought more of the journey than he did of the miracle. It seemed to the impatient boy that the next day never would dawn. Many times in the night he wakened to hear the distant crowing of cocks. At last, by straining his eyes he could distinguish the green leaves of the vine on the lattice from the blue of the half-opened blossoms. By that token he knew it was near enough the morning for him to commence saying his first prayers.
Dressing noiselessly, so as not to disturb the sleeping family, he slipped out of the house and down to the well outside the city-gate. Here he washed, and then ate the little lunch he had wrapped up the night before. A meagre little breakfast, – only a hard-boiled egg, a bit of fish, and some black bread. But the early hour and his excitement took away his appetite for even that little.
Soon all was confusion around the well, as the noisy drivers gathered to water their camels, and make their preparations for the start.
Joel shrunk away timidly to the edge of the crowd, fearful that his friend Phineas had overslept himself.
In a few minutes he saw him coming with a staff in one hand, and a small bundle swinging from the other.
Joel had one breathless moment of suspense as he was helped on to the back of the kneeling camel; one desperate clutch at the saddle as the huge animal plunged about and rose to its feet. Then he looked down at Phineas, and smiled blissfully.
Oh, the delight of that slow easy motion! The joy of being carried along without pain or effort! Who could realize how much it meant to the little fellow whose halting steps had so long been taken in weariness and suffering?
Swinging along in the cool air, so far above the foot-passengers, it seemed to him that he looked down upon a new earth. Blackbirds flew along the roads, startled by their passing. High overhead, a lark had not yet finished her morning song. Lambs bleated in the pastures, and the lowing of herds sounded on every hill-side.
Not
