AV more. III. Isaac. HEN the prayer ceased, they waited in silence for "Ah, Helena," said he, "I have heard something which is better than all my arguments. Where did Marcus learn that?" "I don't know, unless it was from the nurse." "The nurse!" Cineas folded his arms, and stood fixed in thought. Helena silently left him and went in. After a while he looked for her, and saw that she had gone. "Yes," he murmured; "the mother must have gone to solace herself with that sweet boy. But the nurse, —where did she learn that?" He walked up and down for a little while, and then sauntered into the house, and reclined on a couch in the Peristylium. After a while Helena came in, followed by the boy Marcus and the nurse. The boy had an heavenly mildness. with features strikingly like those of his mother. He had her spiritual eyes, and sweet expressive mouth. He was not more than seven years old, and rather tall for his age. He came bounding up to his uncle with the air of one sure of a welcome; and Cineas took him in his arms, and pressed him to his heart, and looked lovingly at his beautiful face, and said a thousand caressing words. After a short time he went running out, and singing up and down the portico. 66 The nurse remained. Cineas had noticed her before, but now he regarded her with very unusual interest. Where," he thought, "did that prayer originate? Had those marvellous words been taught by her? Where did she learn them? Did she know their deep significance?" He inwardly determined to find out from her. She was evidently Greek; perhaps from some of the islands. Her countenance was refined and delicate, and her hair as white as snow. Her features in youth must have been unusually beautiful, for now, even in age, they had a marvellous sweetness. Cineas was most impressed by her expression. It was that of one who had suffered profoundly from some deep sorrow; and yet, though he had never seen a face which bore greater traces of grief, he could not think that she was sad. It was rather the impression of a sadness that was past; overcome by an unalterable and almost divine patience. It was the face of Niobe, resigned to her lot, and acquiescing in the will of Heaven. "Could not this," he thought, "be a purified soul?" The subject of the late conversation occurred to him, and he thought that here was a soul which had separated itself from material things; here was one that might hold communion with the Supreme; one that might offer up that sublime prayer which he had heard from Marcus. He wondered what had caused that awful sadness, now so completely conquered, and what secret power so enabled her to turn bitterness into sweet peace. Those eyes-calm as the eternal gaze of the Egyptian Sphinx-showed no trace of present passion or impatience. He thought that it could not have been philosophy which thus had strengthened her, for he never knew a woman—or had heard of one-who had risen to that height of philosophic serenity to which a few gifted men had arrived. But his interest in this woman did not allow him to neglect pressing duties which were before him. In spite of his assurances to Helena, he felt that the situation in Britain was a most critical one. That army might never emerge from the gloom that surrounded it. Labeo might never return. About a year before this time, when it was determined to crush the Druid religion, Labeo had sent his wife and child away from Britain to Rome. When he did this, he felt that a crisis was at hand. He understood the fierce, proud nature of the Britons, and knew that they would make a desperate resistHe acted as though there was danger before him. He made a will, and appointed Cineas the guardian of the boy in the event of his own death. He gave the documents to Helena, with instructions to hand them over to Cineas. This she did without knowing what they were. ance. When the absence of Suetonius had been somewhat protracted, Helena had told Cineas of her anxiety, and he had at once left Athens for Rome. Other circumstances influenced him in going, but this was the immediate cause. The brother and sister had kept up a correspondence ever since the marriage of the latter; but they had never met during the whole time. The joy which Helena felt at meeting with her beloved brother for a time lessened her sadness; and his encouraging words taught her to hope for the best. As for Cineas, he at once determined to know how the affairs of the estate were managed, and do what he could to promote its welfare. He had not been there more than two weeks, when the sad news came mentioned in the previous chapter. One man had excited his deepest distrust at the very outset. This was the steward, Hegio. A Syrian by birth, his origin was base, and he had been a slave when he first came to Rome. By some means he had elevated himself, and had been recommended to Labeo, who had given him the whole charge of the estate. Cineas had no sooner seen him than he knew that he was a villain. His cunning, leering face and furtive eye excited the abhorrence of the young Athenian. Moreover, the steward was not particularly respectful. There was a half-concealed impertinence in his manner toward Cineas, which the latter determined to chastise. At anyrate, he felt that this was not the man to control such important interests. He had come to the determination to have an interview with this steward, and expel him from his office without ceremony. On the morning of this day, he sent a summons to him to come to him; but, to his surprise, found that he had gone to Rome. Unwilling to disturb Helena, he went to see the librarian, a man of whom he had formed a high opinion, although he was only a slave. He This man was a Jew, named Isaac, whom Labeo had picked up in Syria under somewhat remarkable circumstances. had been concerned in a violent outbreak of his countrymen, and had been condemned to death. Labeo, however, for some reason or other, had pitied the poor wretch, and had obtained his pardon, and saved him from the agonies of crucifixion. Thereupon the Jew attached himself to his master and the family with the deepest affection and fidelity. For six years he had followed them in various places; and every year had only added to the high regard which they had formed for him. When the family came to Rome, Isaac accompanied them, and from the first had suspected Hegio. He kept all his feelings to himself, however; and it was not till the arrival of Cineas that he opened his mouth on the subject. He was a tall man, of majestic presence, with strongly marked Jewish features. His beard was long, his eyes intensely lustrous and piercing, and his forehead was marked with deep lines. His education had been of the most varied character, and his great natural abilities had enabled him to make the most of his advantages. He was familiar with Greek literature, and Latin also; he was an elegant scribe and an accurate accountant. Such was the man upon whom Cineas now placed his chief reliance. As he entered, the stern features of the Jew relaxed into a smile of welcome. He was at his post in the library. It was an elegant room, surrounded with compartments which were divided into pigeon-holes, in each of which the scrolls were placed. Over these compartments were marble busts of authors, and on a large table in the centre there was the usual apparatus for writing, binding, polishing, and ornamenting the volumes. Cineas glanced at his work, and saw that he was engaged in transcribing Homer. 66 'Isaac," said he, in a friendly tone, "what a wonderful book this is! For I know not how many ages it has inspired the mind and animated the life of the Greeks. All of us are familiar with it. Philosophers and peasants, soldiers and magistrates, all quote it. The Romans have nothing that corresponds with it. But with us it is the universal book. We think Homer, and live Homer. Do you know of any other nation that has a book that fills such a place as this?" Saying this, he reclined on a couch at one end of the apartment, and looked at the Jew. "We Jews," said Isaac, modestly, "have a Universal Book. But it is a collection of all our writers. It is, in fact, our literature. We all know it. We refer to it always. It inspires our hearts and guides our lives. We live it and quote it much more than you do Homer." Cineas was surprised at hearing this, but a moment's thought made him see that it was not so strange a thing that a nation should have a literature which they prized highly. "What books are these ?" he asked. "Our sacred writings," replied Isaac. "Are they poetic?" "They consist both of poetry and prose." |