CHAPTER XXXI.
The time came for Hiram's departure from the home of Ben Yusef.
"There is one favor more I would claim from the hands of my protector," said he to the old man. "You have been a father to us; we would have a father's blessing in making us one. Let me receive my bride from your hands."
"Let me look into your eyes," replied Ben Yusef. "Now as Jehovah liveth, and as thy soul liveth and feareth the curse of its Creator, answer me truly. Does any other woman than this one hold your vow? Our first father Adam commanded that 'a man should leave father and mother and cleave unto his wife, and they twain should be one flesh.'"
Marduk, following the custom of oath-taking among Jews and Phœnicians alike, placed his hand beneath the thigh of Ben Yusef and declared:
"As Jehovah liveth, no woman but this one ever heard vow from me."
"And she? Is she thy betrothed, and thine alone? Does her father live? and has he given his child into thy keeping? For I can stand as father to her, only as I am assured that I transgress no sacred law of fatherhood among Jews or Gentiles."
"Her father once solemnly betrothed her to me according to the laws of our people," replied Marduk. "In his presence I placed upon her hand the ring of betrothal she wears."
"It is enough," said Ben Yusef. "And may this woman bring thee the blessing that my own Lyda brought me when I took her from the tent of Terah, her father!"
Several days later the home of Ben Yusef was transformed into a place of festivity. The old terebinth was hung with garlands. A booth was erected at a little distance from the family tent. Though very simple in structure, it was lined with rich stuffs that well depleted the stores of Marduk, the merchant. These were arranged by Eliezar, the Damascene, whose ingenuity had never before been so taxed to fill the order of any merchant as it was by the order of Marduk to prepare the nuptial tent. The broad divan was covered with that rare fabric of white wool, grown on the slopes of the Lebanon, and called "damask" from the looms of Damascus, that weave its fine fibres, and prepare them for the rich red color of the dyer. It was curtained with lace, the handiwork of a Syrian peasant woman, and into the elaborate pattern of which had gone many years of her toil. She could have indicated certain knots that were made when her eyes were full of tears for some affliction; others wrought when her fingers flew nimbly as she hastened her daily task in order to meet some expected pleasure. Oh! if one could only unravel the secrets of the lives of the workers, and tell the thoughts they had as they toiled, as one can unravel the stitches, what history we would have!—a thousand times larger and a thousand times deeper than that preserved in the annals of our kings!
There was a mirror of polished brass, set in a frame of silver, the craft of Sidonians. And such a toilet of necklaces and ear-rings, of gemmed brooches and hair-pins, of bracelets and anklets; such a collection of tiny vases of rock crystal, of bronze, of glass, of alabaster, all containing kohl for coloring the eyebrows, or salves for the lips, or perfumes for the clothing. There was such a wardrobe of shawls and tunics, veils and sandals! Even Eliezar could not describe them all, for he had left the selection of these to Hador, the haberdasher to the King of Damascus.
During the day Zillah had been invisible. The mysteries of her apartment in the tent of Ben Yusef we must leave to the imagination of our fair readers, and to the knowledge of Ruth, who waited upon her.
As the day waned, many shepherds of the neighborhood, with their families, came to join in the festivities; for to salute a new-made bride was thought to bring blessing upon one's own household.
Just as the sun went down, Marduk emerged from his booth, arrayed in gay robes, and crowned with myrtle entwined with roses. His garments were redolent with myrrh and frankincense, and verily, as Solomon described the comely bridegroom, with "all the powders of the merchant."
The peasants formed in procession to escort the bridegroom from his tent to that of Ben Yusef, at the door of which, as it was her temporary home, he would receive his bride, and conduct her to his own dwelling.
Scarcely had the procession begun to move, when it was suddenly halted by an exclamation of surprise and caution from Elnathan. On top of the hill had appeared a band of horsemen. Elnathan darted into the great tent, and reappeared with a number of swords, knives, slings, and such bludgeons as made every tent an arsenal in those troublous times. The peasants were quickly armed, even some of the women taking weapons.
Elnathan advanced to meet the intruders who had halted upon the hill-top, as if they were reconnoitring the scene, or waiting for others to join them. One of the horsemen was clad in the dull russet leathern suit which indicated a Phœnician soldier. Another wore a white, closely fitting tunic and the projecting cap of a Persian. A third was dressed more as one of the wild rovers of Moab, in big turban and flowing burnoose.
The three awaited Elnathan's challenge, and answered it with, "Peace be with thee!" then dashed down the hill-side with a cry in three diverse tongues, "Marduk! Marduk! Marduk!"
"Hanno!" cried Marduk, and had nearly pulled the Phœnician soldier from his horse before he caught the admonition of his friend, and repeated louder: "It is Captain Beto of Sidon, as sure as Baal lives!"
"Just as sure!" was the response. The second comer was a stranger to Marduk, but at once recognized by Elnathan as the Persian officer in whose escort he had come down the valley of the Litany. The third was a Sidonian soldier from the house of Sanballat. A few words sufficed to explain their coming.
It was necessary for Hanno to communicate with Marduk concerning matters that could be safely intrusted to no one else, so he had assumed the disguise of a soldier and sought his friend.
"But I would never have found you in this retreat, though I thought I knew the way from your description, had it not been that I fell in with these good men, and discovered that this noble Persian, who was returning from Jerusalem to Susa, by way of Samaria, was directing this servant of our Lord Sanballat to find Marduk. But woe betide the man who interrupts a marriage ceremony! Let us all be friends of the bridegroom."
The new-comers joined with the merry peasants. The procession was re-formed, and, with Marduk at the head, approached the great tent.
Ben Yusef met them at the door. He held Zillah by the hand. She was clothed in white, relieved by needlework of gold. Her robe was gathered at the waist by the kishshurim, or wedding girdle, to be loosed only by her husband. Her hair was unbound, flowing in a cascade of glossy jet. A crown of gold, beaten into the shape of ivy leaves, was on her head. She wore a veil that hid her features, but fell about her form like a phosphorescence, concealing the sharper folds of her attire, but revealing their lines of grace.
Ben Yusef, placed the hand of Zillah in that of Marduk, saying:
"Take her according to the law of Moses and of Israel."
Then he added the blessing of the elders at the ancient marriage of Boaz and Ruth:
"The Lord make the woman that is come into thy home like Rachel and Leah, which two did build the house of Israel."
Then Ruth pushed aside the veil just enough to kiss her, and, holding the bride's cheeks between her hands, repeated the extravagant blessing the family of Rebekah used when they gave her to the patriarch Isaac:
"Thou art our sister: be thou the mother of thousands of millions; and let thy seed possess the gate of those that hate them."
The little crowd of peasants had in the meantime lighted flambeaux and small hand lamps. Elnathan marshalled them into a procession, which, making a detour over the hill-side, returned to the booth of Marduk. Here the couple entered. The crowd gathered under the terebinth, where, with feasting and songs, they made the night merry, until the east dropped its gray dawn upon them without a cloud—which they interpreted into a happy omen for the newly wedded—and, with a hundred shouted well-wishes to the merchant and his bride, they dispersed to their homes.
The Persian officer rejoined his own company. The soldier from Sanballat, who carried a letter to Marduk from Manasseh, set out upon his return. "Captain Beto" seemed to forget the proprieties of the occasion, and made himself a companion of Marduk and his wife during almost all the first day of their wedded life. The three sat under the terebinth, or walked together over the hill; the devoted couple apparently as deeply interested in their visitor as in each other.
Whether their interest in "Captain Beto's" talk was warranted or not, we must leave the reader to judge. He told of events in Phœnicia, some of which are recited in the next chapter.