Notwithstanding the fears of his daughter, he had never been so much attracted by the offer of an imperial alliance as were some of his Jewish friends. He had been too much behind the scenes at the Palatine. He knew too much of Tiberius and Cæsarism. He knew nothing to the disadvantage of Germanicus and much to his advantage; but he also knew that Tiberius as a young man had won golden opinions; also, that to be the nephew and heir apparent of the jealous and capricious emperor was very far from being foreordained to empire. So one of his objects in going to Rome was, not to see whether the proposals were desirable, but to see how they might safely be declined. That was a hard problem. But Providence favored him. He found that Germanicus, who had never seen Rachel, had many times seen Agrippina, the granddaughter of Augustus, and to very good purpose. The growing intimacy and attachment between the young people which he was not slow to discover he promoted to the utmost. And when the matter was ripe he found means of bringing it to the knowledge of Sejanus, the emperor’s favorite, and of so enlisting him in its support that under his influence Tiberius began to regret his Egyptian proposals, and to seek some excuse for recalling them. “He did not know, when they were made, of the situation at home. It had only just come to his knowledge. He was sorry; but he hated to break young hearts.” Alexander allowed that it would be a pity. The emperor also thought that, inasmuch as Germanicus and Rachel had never met, it might not, after all, be a very hard matter for the fair Alexandrian to have the matter dropped in such a quiet and honorable way as could easily be devised. Alexander candidly allowed that the fact which his majesty had stated was a weighty one. In short, Tiberius receded from his proposals; and, to soften the supposed disappointment to the mighty banker for whom his treasury had so much use, he sent him home in the imperial galley with new guaranties and privileges for the Jewish community in Egypt, and with a broad hint to Flaccus to let it be known that the honor of the imperial alliance had been declined from religious considerations which the emperor felt bound to respect. The Alabarch expected nothing less than that early the next morning all Alexandria would be in possession of the news, and would be wondering how he could so rebuff the emperor and yet stand higher in his favor than ever.
This, for substance, was what Alexander had to tell. Of course Rachel was vastly delighted at her escape; and showed that she was by flinging her arms about her father’s neck and rapturously kissing him.
But the father wanted to hear as well as to tell. Something of what had transpired had reached him by letter; but he wanted to know all. And Seti rehearsed all that had happened since that memorable Sabbath at the Diapleuston. Rachel sat uneasily silent, leaning against her father and toying with the splendid jewelled badge of the Order of the Golden Eagle which Tiberius at parting had, with his own hands, fastened on his breast—listening with burning cheeks as her grandfather in his graphic way reproduced the events and expressed the confidence and admiration with which Aleph had inspired him. Every now and then she stole an anxious look at her father’s face; not quite sure how the shrewd man of affairs, professionally accustomed to deal with men on a principle of suspicion and abundant caution, would view the eulogiums of the priest and philosopher, founded on so brief an acquaintance. When Alexander had heard all, he said slowly:
“If I had never seen the young man, nor known Seti so well, I might have challenged the sobriety of the account I have just heard. But, having seen him twice, and you a thousand times, I have nothing to say, save that I wish he was emperor of the West, or at least the Cæsar. In that case, perhaps, I would not take so much trouble to keep the Cæsar at arm’s-length, as I have been lately taking in another quarter”—and he nodded smilingly at Rachel. “But who can he be?”
“No matter who he is,” returned Seti with emphasis, “since he is a Man, a sovereign man. He has a broader empire within him than Tiberius sees without him; an empire of which no caprice of fortune can rob him. And his body is as sovereign as his soul. He needs no herald to go before him and cry, Make way, for the king is coming. Men know it as soon as they see him.”
To such words Rachel could have listened all night. But she wondered whether they would have been spoken had father and grandfather known what she knew. She had not yet mustered courage to speak to Seti of her new relation to Aleph; in fact had about made up her mind to leave all explanations to Providence and Aleph. So both Seti and Alexander remained ignorant of that wonderful conversation between the young people which I have lately recorded till Aleph the Chaldean had become Aleph the Prince, and had asked leave to substitute for the proposals of Tiberius certain proposals of his own. Then the whole matter came out. The Alabarch found that his daughter had no serious objection to being a princess provided the prince was of the right sort. He was in very much the same mood himself. Indeed, he went so far as to say that he would not have refused his daughter to Aleph had he always remained simply Aleph the Chaldean, of unknown birth and fortunes: how much less could he do it now that the young man stood revealed a Hebrew of the Hebrews, a descendant of Daniel the illustrious statesman and prophet, and the heir of the stablest and choicest, though not the largest, sovereignty of the age!
So, before many days (but not until the arrival of Rachel’s mother from Jerusalem, and her express sanction, and even her joyful confession that Aleph was a very welcome substitute for even so good a Cæsar as Germanicus) a formal betrothal took place; and all Alexandria took to busily talking over the gracious ceremonial. Now they understood why Germanicus had been respectfully declined. The ground had been pre-empted. Another prince had spoken, and spoken in person. “And no wonder,” said they, “that he was successful; for never did we set eyes on a goodlier person or a princelier.” So Alexandria was in excellent humor; and for once all the five quarters of the city ceased their mutual wrangling and railing and consented to say the same complimentary things. Even the elders of the Diapleuston who so much wanted to see a second Esther on the imperial throne were by this time ready to allow that Rachel had chosen very happily for herself, if not for the Jewish public. They offered congratulations. They sent in rich presents—especially Ben Simeon, who, from the first, had been so drawn to Aleph, and was now in charge as consignee in the place of Malus. But the richest and most valued presents that Rachel received on that auspicious day were two—from opposite quarters. One was a copy from the Septuagint of all the Messianic prophecies in their order, beautifully done on vellum margined with jewels—this came from Aleph. The other came from Flaccus, in the name of his son Sextus, and was no less than the Setian palace on the Nile which has had so conspicuous a place in this narrative. Some damage had been done to it by Draco and his band in their orgies and final rummage for concealed treasure: but he had been so thoroughly frightened by what he had done to Sextus, as well as by the escape of Aleph and the numerous foot-prints found about the premises early the next morning, that his search was very hasty and ended in the whole gang betaking themselves precipitately to the desert—to the great misfortune of the desert and travelers, but without much damage to the stronghold they had left. It was soon put in prime condition by Flaccus, and then, in an elaborate communication, presented to Seti for Rachel and Aleph as an “Egyptian home to which his excellency hoped they would very often return.” It was a question in the mind of Seti whether a man could give what does not belong to him; but this question, wise man that he was, he kept to himself, and was very glad to have the ancient heirloom come back in any way into his family.
And these were the ulterior arrangements. Cimon and Aleph would return home at once by way of Palestine, with the hope of falling in with the Messiah ere his return heavenward. Then, as soon as possible, Aleph would come again with his father’s formal sanction to claim his bride; and then her father and mother and dear mother-father would take a long vacation and accompany her and Miriam (henceforth inseparable) to their new home. Alexander even went so far as to intimate that, mindful of the uncertainty of the imperial favor and of the Jewish position in Alexandria, he was thinking seriously of transferring the bulk of his fortune to a safer region; and to facilitate this had already arranged to open a branch banking house at Ecbatana, where converged many routes of commercial travel. By all means do this, O great financier, and tarry not in the doing; for the times in the west are threatening, and Rome is a volcano that may at any moment send streams of lava farther than Alexandria. Plant thy family and fortunes amid the safe Chaldean mountains, hard by the tombs of Daniel and Esther in Eden; and, looking calmly forth from your impregnable observatory, see distant Cæsars rise and fall, see distant legions march and counter-march, and, above all, see the friendly star that offers to guide your faith and gifts to Jesus the King. Then push out the antennæ of commerce vigorously into all lands, and gather the spoils of peace wherewith to decorate the Prince of peace. It is your mission. You have a genius for honorable money-making. Use it vigorously. It is as sacred as a genius for eloquence, or a genius for science.
A brilliant caravan files through the gate of Canopus. Our friends are moving homeward. They came by the way the Magian fathers returned; they are returning by the way those fathers came. They have just said farewells to Shaphan and Nathan: a little before they had said still more tender ones at the palace of Alexander. Flaccus had insisted on sending with them an escort of cavalry as far as the frontier; and Alexander, and Seti, and Cornelius at the head of a large delegation from the University, will go with them a day’s journey.
We will not go with them even that distance, though we would be glad to do so; but will say our farewells and godspeeds just here before the khan where Shaphan and Nathan once reluctantly parted with the Divine Child. Our parting, too, is reluctant. We are vastly sorry, O wise men of the East, to say good-bye to you, though it be for only a few moons. It is not often that such as you have crossed our path, or any path. But partings must be; and so, comforting ourselves with the expectation of seeing you again when all Alexandria is ablaze with that rare thing, a royal marriage made in Heaven, we gather courage to say Adieu! May the Father above prosper your way to the father below. We foresee that He will. You and yours are well mounted; and though only Aleph has a Parthia beneath him, there can be but a few days of travel between you and the Messiah. The longings of your hearts will be gratified. You will reach Galilee in season. There, on a certain mountain, with more than five hundred fellow disciples, you will see with your own eyes Him in whom you have blessedly believed without seeing; will be welcomed by Him for the fathers’ sake as well as for your own; will perhaps see some of the “many other signs which are not written in this book”; and, finally, in the early morning, as you resume your journey and are taking a look backward on the city of so many sacred memories, you will see over the Mount of Olives a human form slowly rising through the air with outstretched hands of benediction. The son of Daniel will need no interpreter. Behold the Heavenly King going to his home even as you are going to yours! And you will worship and go on your way rejoicing; bearing to your Chaldean home such news that all its silver trumpets will sound as it exclaims: