Ben Hur Lew Wallace (black male authors .TXT) 📖

There they cast themselves under the tree in its shade, and drank of the gourd, and rested refreshed. Ere long Tirzah slept, and fearing to disturb her, the others held their peace. IV

During the third hour the road in front of the resting-place of the lepers became gradually more and more frequented by people going in the direction of Bethphage and Bethany; now, however, about the commencement of the fourth hour, a great crowd appeared over the crest of Olivet, and as it defiled down the road thousands in number, the two watchers noticed with wonder that everyone in it carried a palm-branch freshly cut. As they sat absorbed by the novelty, the noise of another multitude approaching from the east drew their eyes that way. Then the mother awoke Tirzah.

“What is the meaning of it all?” the latter asked.

“He is coming,” answered the mother. “These we see are from the city going to meet him; those we hear in the east are his friends bearing him company; and it will not be strange if the processions meet here before us.

“I fear, if they do, we cannot be heard.”

The same thought was in the elder’s mind.

“Amrah,” she asked, “when Judah spoke of the healing of the ten, in what words did he say they called to the Nazarene?”

“Either they said, ‘Lord, have mercy upon us,’ or ‘Master, have mercy.’ ”

“Only that?”

“No more that I heard.”

“Yet it was enough,” the mother added, to herself.

“Yes,” said Amrah, “Judah said he saw them go away well.”

Meantime the people in the east came up slowly. When at length the foremost of them were in sight, the gaze of the lepers fixed upon a man riding in the midst of what seemed a chosen company which sang and danced about him in extravagance of joy. The rider was bareheaded and clad all in white. When he was in distance to be more clearly observed, these, looking anxiously, saw an olive-hued face shaded by long chestnut hair slightly sunburned and parted in the middle. He looked neither to the right nor left. In the noisy abandon of his followers he appeared to have no part; nor did their favor disturb him in the least, or raise him out of the profound melancholy into which, as his countenance showed, he was plunged. The sun beat upon the back of his head, and lighting up the floating hair gave it a delicate likeness to a golden nimbus. Behind him the irregular procession, pouring forward with continuous singing and shouting, extended out of view. There was no need of anyone to tell the lepers that this was he⁠—the wonderful Nazarene!

“He is here, Tirzah,” the mother said; “he is here. Come, my child.”

As she spoke she glided in front of the white rock and fell upon her knees.

Directly the daughter and servant were by her side. Then at sight of the procession in the west, the thousands from the city halted, and began to wave their green branches, shouting, or rather chanting (for it was all in one voice),

“Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord!”

And all the thousands who were of the rider’s company, both those near and those afar, replied so the air shook with the sound, which was as a great wind threshing the side of the hill. Amidst the din, the cries of the poor lepers were not more than the twittering of dazed sparrows.

The moment of the meeting of the hosts was come, and with it the opportunity the sufferers were seeking; if not taken, it would be lost forever, and they would be lost as well.

“Nearer, my child⁠—let us get nearer. He cannot hear us,” said the mother.

She arose, and staggered forward. Her ghastly hands were up, and she screamed with horrible shrillness. The people saw her⁠—saw her hideous face, and stopped awestruck⁠—an effect for which extreme human misery, visible as in this instance, is as potent as majesty in purple and gold. Tirzah, behind her a little way, fell down too faint and frightened to follow farther.

“The lepers! the lepers!”

“Stone them!”

“The accursed of God! Kill them!”

These, with other yells of like import, broke in upon the hosannas of the part of the multitude too far removed to see and understand the cause of the interruption. Some there were, however, near by familiar with the nature of the man to whom the unfortunates were appealing⁠—some who, by long intercourse with him, had caught somewhat of his divine compassion: they gazed at him, and were silent while, in fair view, he rode up and stopped in front of the woman. She also beheld his face⁠—calm, pitiful, and of exceeding beauty, the large eyes tender with benignant purpose.

And this was the colloquy that ensued:

“O Master, Master! Thou seest our need; thou canst make us clean. Have mercy upon us⁠—mercy!”

“Believest thou I am able to do this?” he asked.

“Thou art he of whom the prophets spake⁠—thou art the Messiah!” she replied.

His eyes grew radiant, his manner confident.

“Woman,” he said, “great is thy faith; be it unto thee even as thou wilt.”

He lingered an instant after, apparently unconscious of the presence of the throng⁠—an instant⁠—then he rode away.

To the heart divinely original, yet so human in all the better elements of humanity, going with sure prevision to a death of all the inventions of men the foulest and most cruel, breathing even then in the forecast shadow of the awful event, and still as hungry and thirsty for love and faith as in the beginning, how precious and ineffably soothing the farewell exclamation of the grateful woman:

“To God in the highest, glory! Blessed, thrice blessed, the Son whom he hath given us!”

Immediately both the hosts, that from the city and that from Bethphage, closed around him with their joyous demonstrations, with hosannas and waving of palms, and so he passed from the lepers forever. Covering her head, the elder hastened to Tirzah, and folded her in her arms, crying, “Daughter,