The Silver Chalice. Thomas B. Costain
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Ceratium. He had failed to recognize him at once because his beard, which had been a fiery red, was now as white as snow.
“You are a Christian,” said Basil. “I saw you once, many years ago. My father, my real father, whose name was Theron and who sold pens, took me to a beautiful temple to hear a man named Paul of Tarsus preach to the people. I could not have been more than seven years old at the time. But I have always remembered how you looked.”
“Yes, I am a Christian.” The visitor came into the room and placed the candle on the workbench. “You have been expecting a miracle. I am not a worker of miracles, my son. Sometimes, when I am about the work of my Master, I hear words spoken in my mind which I know to be instructions, but in what follows I am no more than an instrument. I am a plain man and my chief duty is to write about what other men, much greater men than I, are doing to spread the truth. I do not speak to the multitudes. I have no power of healing in my hands. The flame has never appeared above my head, nor have I been given the gift of tongues. Men in whose honesty I have every faith have told me of seeing angels, and so I have always believed them. But I must be honest with you and say that I, Luke the Physician, have never seen an angel with my own eyes.”
He seated himself on the bench and motioned to Basil to do the same. Placing a reassuring hand on the boy’s arm, he went on: “But it may be that we have played our parts in a miracle tonight. How do I know that my visit is not the result of the prayers you have addressed to the angel Mefathiel? I thought the plan had been conceived in my own mind, but the angel may have put the thought there in the first place. That, my son, is how most miracles come about. It is not necessary to have a bolt of fire from the sky or the sound of a heavenly Voice. Miracles are happening all the time, at all hours of the day and night; and they come about quietly, just like this, with two men talking together, perhaps, in a darkened room and the world asleep outside. This, at any rate, I may tell you: I have come tonight to take you away.”
“Then you are the angel!” cried Basil, his spirits leaping for joy. “You are Mefathiel in disguise. You say it is not so, but I am sure of it. You are the Opener of Doors.”
“I have no wings on my shoulders.” Luke smiled so warmly that the boy felt his heart go out to him. All sense of fear and distress left his mind. For the first time since he had received the warning note he had a feeling of security. “There is no time to tell you everything,” continued Luke, “but this much you should know. There is a man of great wealth, and of great years, whose granddaughter is the apple of his eye. Before he dies this fine old man desires that a likeness be made of him in silver for her to keep. Knowing that the arts flourish in Antioch, he sent word to Luke the Physician that he desired the best artificer in silver who could be obtained. I had heard of you and tonight I saw your master. I bought your freedom from him, so that you could go to do the bidding of this fondest of grandsires. Here is the document that restores to you your freedom.”
Basil could scarcely believe that this had happened to him, that not only was he free again but that his escape from the power of Linus had been provided.
They had been conversing in Koine, the commercial Greek which was used very largely in Antioch. Luke now asked if he knew any other language and Basil answered that he spoke Aramaic. He had done some reading in the Greek classics and had a small smattering of Latin. “Very small,” he added with a smile.
“It is the Aramaic you will use where you are to go,” said Luke. “It is fortunate you can speak it.”
“Before you came, my benefactor,” declared Basil, “I was certain I would never see the outside again. But now I have no fear. I think I would risk walking into that circular room, where my father used to sit and which Linus now occupies in his place, and telling him to do his worst.” His spirits had risen so high he found it impossible to remain still. He wanted to go out into the darkness of the rooftops and shout to the world that he was free and that the path to fame and fortune lay at his feet. “I will work hard to justify your choice of me,” he went on. “And I shall be grateful to you all my life for putting this chance in my hands.” He paused, aware that he must not weary this new friend with protestations, but conscious of a great curiosity as to the nature of the task ahead of him. “May I ask one question?”
“You want to know where you are being sent. It is to Jerusalem.”
“Jerusalem!” Excitement boiled up again in Basil’s veins. The name of Jerusalem was a potent one. Not Antioch the beautiful, not Rome the all-powerful, exerted the hold on the imaginations of men which this old city on the hills of Israel had gained. Apart from this, however, the boy had another reason for being glad he was to visit the city that clustered about the golden dome of the Temple of the One God. It was to Jerusalem that Kester of Zanthus had gone when he left Antioch, the missing witness who might enable him to have the verdict that deprived him of his fortune set aside.
Luke rose to his feet. “We should be on our way. There is much for us to do before the sun rises again.”
Basil hesitated. “I will be sorry to go and leave my fellow slave here. Did you see a girl when you were below whose name is Agnes? She has been very good to me, so good that I wonder if it is in your power to do anything for her as well.”
Luke’s manner took on a new gravity. “I saw the child. She is quite ill, and I am compelled to tell you that she hasn’t long to live. Less than a year, I am afraid. The wasting disease has its hold on her and nothing may now be done for her.” He went on with every evidence of reluctance: “There are such cases all over the world. Much as we may want to help them, it is out of our power. The good friend in Jerusalem is a man of wealth, but we are making heavy demands on him now and I can see no reason for pressing the case of this poor child on his attention. It has cost a great deal more to buy your freedom than he had expected.”
“Her freedom would take a very small sum,” urged Basil. “Then she could have proper care for—for as long as she has to live. I know it is asking too much. But in all truth, I find it hard to persuade myself to go without her. Could there not be a miracle?”
“We may pray for a miracle, you and I.” The physician ran his fingers thoughtfully over his long beard. “All I can say beyond that is that I will speak about it when I follow you to Jerusalem. The man in question has a kind heart, and he might be persuaded to do as you wish.” He nodded his head slowly. “And now, are you ready, my son?”
Basil did not need further urging. “I have nothing to take,” he said, springing to his feet. “A slave has no possessions. I wish there had been time to wash myself properly. I have had no chance here to keep myself clean.”
“Where I take you,” said Luke, “there will be a warm bath and a fresh linen tunic for you to don.” He picked up the candle and raised it above his head for a closer survey of this youth on whom his choice had fallen. He seemed pleased at what he saw. “I think the gentle old man in Jerusalem will be in accord with what I have done, even though it has been a somewhat costly transaction.”
Basil walked to the window and threw back the dirt-encrusted curtain. “It will be safer for us to leave by the roof,” he said.
A change came over his visitor. Luke seemed to grow visibly taller. The human kindliness of his eyes disappeared and they became instead like deep and mysterious pools. He had denied that he communed with angels, but at this moment he seemed to have taken on himself the outward guide of a messenger from the world of the spirit.
“Listen to me, my son,” he said. His voice also had changed and it now carried a deep and commanding tone. “It is not necessary for us to run away from danger. I shall walk down the stairs and through the door to the street, and you must follow me. It will not matter if that evil man Linus has placed assassins outside the house to do you harm. We shall walk through them unscathed as Daniel when he stood in the den of the lions.” He laid a hand on the boy’s arm and urged him toward the stairs. “Have no fear. We do not go alone. The Lord will go with us.”
CHAPTER II
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