[LETTER XVI.]
My Dear Father:
While I write, the city is agitated like a tumultuous sea. The loud murmurs of the multitudes in the streets, and even in the distant market-place, reach my startled ears. A squadron of Roman cavalry has just thundered past towards the Temple, where the uproar is greatest; for a rumor of an insurrection begun among the people has come to Pilate the Procurator.
I will relate to you the circumstance in detail.
Yesterday Mary's cousin, John, returned and came unexpectedly into the hall of the fountain, in the rear of the house, where we were all seated in the cool of the vines. Uncle Amos was in the act of reading to us from the Prophet Jeremiah, a prophecy relating to the Messias that is to come (nay, that is come, dear father), when John appeared. Mary's blushes welcomed him and showed how dear he was to her. Uncle Amos embraced and kissed him and seated him by us, and called for a servant to bathe his feet, for he was dusty and travel-worn. From him we learned that his beloved Master, Jesus, had reached Bethany, and was reposing from his fatigues at the hospitable though humble house of Lazarus, Mary and Martha. When we heard this, we were all very glad; and Uncle Amos particularly seemed to experience the deepest satisfaction.
"If he come into Jerusalem," said he warmly, "he shall be my guest. Bid him to my roof, O John, that my household may be blessed in having a prophet of God step across its threshold."
"I will tell my beloved Master thy wish, Rabbi Amos," answered John. "Doubtless, as he has no home nor friends in the city, he will remain under your roof."
"Say not no friends!" I exclaimed. "We are all his friends here, and fain would be his disciples."
"What! Rabbi Amos also?" cried John, with a glance of pleasure and surprise at the venerable priest of God.