“I am not a dog,” said Tor boldly. “I am the servant of a King. I was looking for my Master, and another hurled the stone at me. But because the man was lately healed of blindness he could not throw a stone with ease, and, therefore, it came over the wall.”
One of the men shook with laughter at this speech. “Nay, but thou art a pretty [pg 103]liar,” he said at last. “The servant of a King! aye, thou dost look the part rarely! May I ask thee the name of thy royal Master?”
“His name is Jesus,” said Tor. “I was blind, and he gave me eyes. Therefore, I serve him.”
The faces of both men had grown suddenly serious. They exchanged significant glances. “Better hold the boy till my lord’s return; he will, perchance, wish to question him of the matter,” said one. And the other nodding, gripped the child roughly by the shoulder, and presently thrust him into an empty scullery of an inner court.
Tor flung himself against the heavy door in a sudden fury of despair. “Let me out!” he screamed. “Let me out! I must find my Master.”
Then, as no one paid the slightest heed [pg 104]to his outcries, he began to look about him for some means of escape. The one window high in the wall was heavily barred, and there was no opening in the small, dark chamber save the door by which he had entered, and this was fast locked on the outside.
The boy tore at his rags like a trapped animal. Then spying a great sealed jar in one corner he began to scratch savagely at its cover. “If it be wine,” he muttered, “I will drink my fill for once. Nay, I will do more. I will spill upon the earth all that I cannot drink. I hate the men who have thrust me into this place! Also, I hate Chelluh; some day I will kill him.”
“Forgive, if ye have aught against any one; that your Father may forgive you.”
Who had spoken? The beggar child [pg 105]ceased his beast-like clawing at the sealed lid of the jar; his flushed face paled slowly. “Forgive—forgive!” The words rang clearly in his bewildered ears. He sank slowly to the floor, and dropped his head to his lean knees in an effort to remember. “It was my Master who said it,” he muttered at last. “He said ‘Forgive, that your Father may forgive.’ Father—my Father!”
The child’s face lighted with sudden joy. “He said whosoever asks shall have. I will ask, for I want to get out of this place that I may follow my Master.” Then in a loud, clear voice, after the fashion of the Pharisees he had heard praying in the temple and on the corners of the streets, he cried aloud: “Father, I want to get out of this place! My Father! I want to get out—Father! Father!”