CHAP. XXI.
It was after she had persuaded him to take a little soup, which he did with some show of appetite, that Esora began to think she might save him: if his strength does not die away, she said. But will it? Joseph inquired. Not if he continues to take food, she replied; and two hours later she returned to the bedside to feed him again, and for a few seconds he was roused from his lethargy; but it was not till the seventh day that his eyes seemed to ask: who art thou, and who am I? And how came I hither? Thou'rt Jesus of Nazareth, and I am Joseph of Arimathea, whom thou knewest in Galilee, and it was I that brought thee hither, but more than that I dare not tell lest too much story should fatigue thy brain. I do not remember coming here. Where am I? Is this a holy place? Was a prophet ever taken away to heaven from here? Afraid to perplex the sick man, Joseph answered that he never heard that anything of the sort had happened lately. But thou canst tell me, Jesus continued, why thou'rt here? Thou'rt the rich man's son. Ah, yes, and my sorrow for some wrong done to thee brought thee hither. His eyelids fell over his eyes, and a few minutes afterwards he opened them, and after looking at Joseph repeated: my sorrow brought thee here; and still in doubt as to what answer he should make, Joseph asked him if he were glad he was by him. Very glad, he said, and strove to take Joseph's hand. But my hand pains me, and the other hand likewise; my feet too; my forehead; my back; I am all pain. Thou must have patience, Esora broke in, and the pain will pass away. Who is that woman? A leper, or one suffering from a flux of blood? Tell her I cannot impose my hands and cast out the wicked demon that afflicts her. He mustn't be allowed to talk, Esora said; he must rest. And on these words he seemed to sink into a lethargy. Has he fallen asleep again? It is sleep or lethargy, she answered, and they went to the door of the cottage, and, leaning against the lintels, stood balancing the chances of the sick man's recovery.
We can do no more, she said, than we are doing. We must put our trust in my balsam and give him food as often as he'll take it from us. Which they did day after day, relieving each other's watches, and standing over Jesus' bed conferring together, wondering if he cared to live or would prefer that they suffered him to die....
For many days he lay like a piece of wreckage, and it was not till the seventh day that he seemed to rouse a little out of his lethargy, or his indifference—they knew not which it was. In answer to Esora he said he felt easier, and would be glad if they would wheel his bed nearer to the door. Outside is the garden, he whispered, for I see boughs waving, and can hear the bees. Wilt thou let me go into the garden? As soon as I've removed the dressing thou shalt have a look into the garden, Esora replied, and she called upon Joseph to pull Jesus forward. All this, she said, was raw flesh a week ago, and now the scab is coming away nicely; you see the new skin my balsam is bringing up. His feet, too, are healing, Joseph observed, and look as if he will be able to stand upon them in another few days. Wounds do not heal as quickly as that, Master. Thou must have patience. But he'll be wanting a pair of crutches very soon. We might send to Jerusalem for a pair. There is no need to send to Jerusalem, he answered. I think I'd like to make him a pair. Anybody can make a pair of crutches, however poor a carpenter he may be; and every evening as soon as his watch was over he repaired to the wood-shed. They won't be much to look at, Esora reflected, but that won't matter, if he gets them the right length, and strong.
Come and see them, he said to her one evening, and when she had admired his handiwork sufficiently he said: tell me, Esora, is a man's mind the same after scourging and crucifixion as it was before? Esora shook her head. I suppose not, Joseph continued, for our minds draw their lives from our bodies. He'll be a different man if he comes up from his sickness. But he may live to be as old as I am, or the patriarchs, she returned. With a different mind, he added. So I've lost him in life whom I saved from death.
Esora did not ask any questions, and fearing that her master might tell her things he might afterwards regret having said, she remarked that Jesus would be needing the crutches in about another week.
And it was in or about that time, not finding Jesus in the cottage, they came down the pathway in great alarm, to be brought to a sudden stop by the sight of Jesus sitting under the cedars. How did he get there? Esora cried, for the crutches were in the wood-shed. They were, Esora, but I took them down to the cottage last night, and seeing them, and finding they fitted him, he has hobbled to the terrace. But he mustn't hobble about where he pleases, Esora said. He is a sick man and in our charge, and if he doesn't obey us he may fall back again into sickness. The bones have not properly set—— We don't know that any bones were broken, do we, Esora? We don't; for the nails may have pierced the feet and hands without breaking any. But, Master, look! Didst ever see such imprudence? Go! drive away my cat, or else my work will be undone.
Her cat, large, strong and supple as a tiger, had advanced from the opposite wood, and, unmindful of a bitch and her puppies, seated himself in the middle of the terrace. As he sat tidying his coat the puppies conceived the foolish idea of a gambol with him. The cat continued to lick himself, though no doubt fully aware of the puppies' intention, and it was not till they were almost on him that he rose, hackle erect, to meet the onset in which they would have been torn badly if Jesus had not hopped hastily forward and menaced him with his crutches. Even then the puppies, unmindful of the danger, continued to dance round the cat. You little fools, he will have your eyes, Jesus cried, and he caught them up in his arms, but unable to manage them and his crutches together, he dropped the crutches and started to get back to his seat without them.
It was this last imprudence that compelled Esora to cry out to Joseph that her work would be undone if Joseph did not run at once to Jesus and give him his crutches: now, Master, I hope ye told him he must leave cats and dogs alone, she said as soon as Joseph returned to her. If he doesn't we shall have him on our hands all the winter. All the winter! Joseph repeated. It is for thee to say, Master, how long he is to stay here; three weeks, till he is fit to travel, or all the winter, it is for you to say. Fit to travel, Joseph repeated. Why should he leave when he is fit to travel? he asked. Only, Master, because it will be hard to keep him in hiding much longer. Secrets take a long time to leak out, but they leak out in the end. But I may be wrong, Master, in thinking that there is a secret. I hardly know anything about this man, only that thou broughtest him back one night. So thou'rt not certain then that there is a secret, Esora? Joseph said. I won't say that, Master, for I can see by his back that he has been scourged, and cruelly, she answered. His hands and feet testify that he has been on the cross. Therefore, Joseph interposed, thou judgest him to be a malefactor of some sort. Master, I would judge no one. He is what thou choosest to tell me he is. Come then, Esora, Joseph replied, and I will tell thee his story and mine, for our stories have been strangely interwoven. But the telling will take some time. Come, let us sit in the shade of the acacia-trees yonder; there is a seat there, and we shall be in view of our sick man, ready to attend upon him should he require our attention.