“I have been brought up in the desert far from cities,” pleaded Caleb. “Is there no law by which I may have justice of this man? Cannot you help me who are great among our people?”
“None,” answered Benoni. “Roman citizens have rights, Jews what they can get. You can appeal to Cæsar if you wish, as the jackal appealed to the lion. But if you are wise you will be content with half the carcase. Also I am not great; I am but an old merchant without authority.”
Caleb looked downfallen. “It seems that the days are hard for us Jews,” he said. “Well, I will be content and strive to forgive my enemies.”
“Better be content and strive to smite your enemies,” answered Benoni. “You who were poor are rich; for this much thank God.”
“Night and morning I do thank Him,” replied Caleb earnestly and with truth.
Then there was silence for a while.
“Is it your intention to reside in Hezron’s—I mean in your house—in Tyre?” asked Benoni, breaking it.
“For a time, perhaps, until I find a tenant. I am not accustomed to towns, and at present they seem to stifle me.”
“Where were you brought up, sir?”
“Among the Essenes by Jericho. But I am not an Essene—their creed disgusted me; I belong to that of my fathers.”