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

“If blood derives excellence from time, son of Arrius, then is old Ilderim a man, though he be an uncircumcised Edomite.”

Malluch spoke warmly.

“All his fathers before him were sheiks. One of them⁠—I shall not say when he lived or did the good deed⁠—once helped a king who was being hunted with swords. The story says he loaned him a thousand horsemen, who knew the paths of the wilderness and its hiding-places as shepherds know the scant hills they inhabit with their flocks; and they carried him here and there until the opportunity came, and then with their spears they slew the enemy, and set him upon his throne again. And the king, it is said, remembered the service, and brought the son of the Desert to this place, and bade him set up his tent and bring his family and his herds, for the lake and trees, and all the land from the river to the nearest mountains, were his and his children’s forever. And they have never been disturbed in the possession. The rulers succeeding have found it policy to keep good terms with the tribe, to whom the Lord has given increase of men and horses, and camels and riches, making them masters of many highways between cities; so that it is with them any time they please to say to commerce, ‘Go in peace,’ or ‘Stop,’ and what they say shall be done. Even the prefect in the citadel overlooking Antioch thinks it happy day with him when Ilderim, surnamed the Generous on account of good deeds done unto all manner of men, with his wives and children, and his trains of camels and horses, and his belongings of sheik, moving as our fathers Abraham and Jacob moved, comes up to exchange briefly his bitter wells for the pleasantness you see about us.”

“How is it, then?” said Ben-Hur, who had been listening unmindful of the slow gait of the dromedaries. “I saw the sheik tear his beard while he cursed himself that he had put trust in a Roman. Caesar, had he heard him, might have said, ‘I like not such a friend as this; put him away.’ ”

“It would be but shrewd judgment,” Malluch replied, smiling. “Ilderim is not a lover of Rome; he has a grievance. Three years ago the Parthians rode across the road from Bozra to Damascus, and fell upon a caravan laden, among other things, with the incoming tax-returns of a district over that way. They slew every creature taken, which the censors in Rome could have forgiven if the imperial treasure had been spared and forwarded. The farmers of the taxes, being chargeable with the loss, complained to Caesar, and Caesar held Herod to payment, and Herod, on his part, seized property of Ilderim, whom he charged with treasonable neglect of duty. The sheik appealed to Caesar, and Caesar has made him such answer as might be looked for from the unwinking sphinx. The old man’s heart has been aching sore ever since, and he nurses his wrath, and takes pleasure in its daily growth.”

“He can do nothing, Malluch.”

“Well,” said Malluch, “that involves another explanation, which I will give you, if we can draw nearer. But see!⁠—the hospitality of the sheik begins early⁠—the children are speaking to you.”

The dromedaries stopped, and Ben-Hur looked down upon some little girls of the Syrian peasant class, who were offering him their baskets filled with dates. The fruit was freshly gathered, and not to be refused; he stooped and took it, and as he did so a man in the tree by which they were halted cried, “Peace to you, and welcome!”

Their thanks said to the children, the friends moved on at such gait as the animals chose.

“You must know,” Malluch continued, pausing now and then to dispose of a date, “that the merchant Simonides gives me his confidence, and sometimes flatters me by taking me into council; and as I attend him at his house, I have made acquaintance with many of his friends, who, knowing my footing with the host, talk to him freely in my presence. In that way I became somewhat intimate with Sheik Ilderim.”

For a moment Ben-Hur’s attention wandered. Before his mind’s eye there arose the image, pure, gentle, and appealing, of Esther, the merchant’s daughter. Her dark eyes bright with the peculiar Jewish lustre met his in modest gaze; he heard her step as when she approached him with the wine, and her voice as she tendered him the cup; and he acknowledged to himself again all the sympathy she manifested for him, and manifested so plainly that words were unnecessary, and so sweetly that words would have been but a detraction. The vision was exceeding pleasant, but upon his turning to Malluch, it flew away.

“A few weeks ago,” said Malluch, continuing, “the old Arab called on Simonides, and found me present. I observed he seemed much moved about something, and, in deference, offered to withdraw, but he himself forbade me. ‘As you are an Israelite,’ he said, ‘stay, for I have a strange story to tell.’ The emphasis on the word Israelite excited my curiosity. I remained, and this is in substance his story⁠—I cut it short because we are drawing nigh the tent, and I leave the details to the good man himself. A good many years ago, three men called at Ilderim’s tent out in the wilderness. They were all foreigners, a Hindu, a Greek, and an Egyptian; and they had come on camels, the largest he had ever seen, and all white. He welcomed them, and gave them rest. Next morning they arose and prayed a prayer new to the sheik⁠—a prayer addressed to God and his son⁠—this with much mystery besides. After breaking fast with him, the Egyptian told who they were, and whence they had come.