Part 4 (1/2)
Suddenly there arose a wild shriek, a sort of demon-like howl that transfixed them with its piercing horror. Every one turned to see the cause of the startling sound. There, near the door, stood a man whom they all knew,--an unhappy creature said to be possessed of an unclean spirit.
”Ha!” he cried, in a blood-curdling tone. ”What have we to do with Thee, Jesus of Nazareth? Art thou come to destroy us? I know Thee, who thou art, the holy One of G.o.d!”
There was a great stir, especially in the woman's gallery; and those standing nearest him backed away as far as possible.
Every face was curious and excited, at this sudden interruption,--every face but one; the Rabbi Jesus alone was calm.
”Hold thy peace and come out of him!” He commanded. There was one more shriek, worse than before, as the man fell at His feet in a convulsion; but in a moment he stood up again, quiet and perfectly sane. The wild look was gone from his eyes. Whatever had been the strange spell that had bound him before, he was now absolutely free.
There was another stir in the woman's gallery. Contrary to all rule or custom, an aged woman pushed her way out. Down the stairs she went, unveiled through the ranks of the men, to reach her son whom she had just seen restored to reason. With a glad cry she fell forward, fainting, in his arms, and was borne away to the little home, now no longer darkened by the shadow of a sore affliction.
Little else was talked about that day, until the rumor of another miracle began to spread through the town. Phineas, stopping at Laban's house on his way home from an afternoon service, confirmed the truth of it.
One of his neighbors had been dangerously ill with a fever that was common in that part of the country; she was the mother-in-law of Simon bar Jonah. It was at his home that the Rabbi Jesus had been invited to dine.
As soon as He entered the house, they besought Him to heal her. Standing beside her, He rebuked the fever; and immediately she arose, and began to help her daughter prepare for the entertainment of their guest.
”Abigail was there yesterday,” said Phineas, ”to carry some broth she had made. She thought then it would be impossible for the poor creature to live through the night. I saw the woman a few hours ago, and she is perfectly well and strong.”
That night when the sun was setting, and the Sabbath was at an end, a motley crowd streamed along the streets to the door of Simon bar Jonah. Men carried on couches; children in their mother's arms; those wasted by burning fevers; those shaken by unceasing palsy; the lame; the blind; the death-stricken,--all pressing hopefully on.
What a scene in that little court-yard as the sunset touched the wan faces and smiled into dying eyes. Hope for the hopeless! Balm for the broken in body and spirit! There was rejoicing in nearly every home in Capernaum that night, for none were turned away. Not one was refused. It is written, ”He laid His hand on every one of them, and healed them.”
That he might not seem behind his guests in zeal and devotion to the Law, the dignified Laban would not follow the crowds.
”Let others be carried away by strange doctrines and false prophets, if they will,” he declared; ”as for me and my household, we will cling to the true faith of our fathers.”
So the three sat in the upper chamber on the roof, and discussed the new teacher with many shakes of their wise heads.
”It is not lawful to heal on the Sabbath day,” they declared. ”Twice during the past day He has openly transgressed the Law. He will lead all Galilee astray!”
But Galilee cared little how far the path turned from the narrow faith of the Pharisees, so long as it led to life and healing.
Down in the garden below, the children climbed up on the grape-arbor, and peered through the vines at the surging crowds which they would have joined, had it not been for Laban's strict commands.
One by one they watched people whom they knew go by, some carried on litters, some leaning on the shoulders of friends. One man crawled painfully along on his hands and knees.
After awhile the same people began to come back.
”Look, quick, Joel!” one of the children cried; ”there goes Simon ben Levi. Why, his palsy is all gone! He doesn't shake a bit now! And there's little Martha that lives out near Aunt Rebecca's! Don't you know how white and thin she looked when they carried her by a little while ago? See! she is running along by herself now as well as we are!”
The children could hardly credit their own sense of sight, when neighbors they had known all their lives to be bed-ridden invalids came back cured, singing and praising G.o.d.
It was a sight they never could forget. So they watched wonderingly till darkness fell, and the last happy-hearted healed one had gone home to a rejoicing household.
While the fathers on the roof were deciding they would have naught of this man, the children in the grape-arbor were storing up in their simple little hearts these proofs of his power and kindness.
Then they gathered around Joel on the doorstep, while he repeated the story that the old shepherd Heber had told him, of the angels and the star, and the baby they had wors.h.i.+pped that night in Bethlehem.
”Come, children,” called his Aunt Leah, as she lit the lamp that was to burn all night. ”Come! It is bed-time!”
His cousin Hannah lingered a moment after the others had gone in, to say, ”That was a pretty story, Joel. Why don't you go and ask the good man to straighten your back?”
Strange as it may seem, this was the first time the thought had occurred to him that he might be benefited himself. He had been so long accustomed to thinking of himself as hopelessly lame, that the wonderful cures he had witnessed had awakened no hope for himself. A new life seemed to open up before him at the little girl's question. He sat on the doorstep thinking about it until his Uncle Laban came down and crossly ordered him to go to bed.
He went in, saying softly to himself, ”I will go to him to-morrow; yes, early in the morning!”
Strange that an old proverb should cross his mind just then. ”Boast not thyself of to-morrow. Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.”
CHAPTER VI.
WHEN Joel went out on the streets next morning, although it was quite early, he saw a disappointed crowd coming up from the direction of Simon's house on the lake sh.o.r.e.
”Where have all these people been?” he asked of the baker's boy, whom he ran against at the first corner.
The boy stopped whistling, and rested his basket of freshly baked bread against his knee, as he answered:-- ”They were looking for the Rabbi who healed so many people last night. Say! do you know,” he added quickly, as if the news were too good to keep, ”he healed my mother last night. You cannot think how different it seems at home, to have her going about strong and well like she used to be.”
Joel's eyes brightened. ”Do you think he'll do anything for me, if I go to him now?” he asked wistfully. ”Do you suppose he could straighten out such a crooked back as mine? Look how much shorter this leg is than the other. Oh, do you think he could make them all right?”
The boy gave him a critical survey, and then answered, emphatically, ”Yes! It really does not look like it would be as hard to straighten you as old Jeremy, the tailor's father. He was twisted all out of shape, you know. Well, I'll declare! There he goes now!”
Joel looked across the street. The wrinkled face of the old basket-weaver was a familiar sight in the market; but Joel could hardly recognize the once crippled form, now restored to its original shapeliness.
”I am going right now,” he declared, starting to run in his excitement. ”I can't wait another minute.”
”But he's gone!” the boy called after him. ”That's why the people are all coming back.”
Joel sat down suddenly on a ledge projecting from the stone-wall. ”Gone!” he echoed drearily. It was as if he had been starving, and the life-giving food held to his famished lips had been suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed away. Both his heart and his feet felt like lead when he got up after awhile, and dragged himself slowly along to the carpenter's house.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'I PEEPED OUT 'TWEEN 'E WOSE--VINES'”]
It was such a bitter disappointment to be so near the touch of healing, and then to miss it altogether.
No cheerful tap of the hammer greeted him. The idle tools lay on the deserted workbench. ”Disappointed again!” he thought. Then the doves cooed, and he caught a glimpse of Ruth's fair hair down among the garden lilies.
”Where is your father, little one?” he called.
”Gone away wiv 'e good man 'at makes everybody well,” she answered. Then she came skipping down the path to stand close beside him, and say confidentially: ”I saw Him--'e good man--going by to Simon's house. I peeped out 'tween 'e wose-vines, and He looked wite into my eyes wiv His eyes, and I couldn't help loving Him!”
Joel looked into the beautiful baby face, thinking what a picture it must have made, as framed in roses it smiled out on the Tender-hearted One, going on His mission of help and healing.
With her little hand in his, she led him back to hope, for she took him to her mother, who comforted him with the a.s.surance that Phineas expected to be home soon, and doubtless his friend would be with him.
So there came another time to work by himself and dream of the hour surely dawning. And the dreams were doubly sweet now; for side by side with his hope of revenge, was the belief in his possible cure.
They heard only once from the absent ones. Word came back that a leper had been healed. Joel heard it first, down at the custom-house. He had gotten into the way of strolling down in that direction after his work was done; for here the many trading-vessels from across the lake, or those that s.h.i.+pped from Capernaum, had to stop and pay duty. Here, too, the great road of Eastern commerce pa.s.sed which led from Damascus to the harbors of the West. So here he would find a constant stream of travellers, bringing the latest news from the outside world.