Naomi

by Mrs. J. B. Webb

What were the sensations of the horror-stricken inhabitants when they were aroused by the shout that burst from the temple when the conflagration broke out! They looked towards the holy hill, and beheld its summit a mass of glowing flames. Fear and wrath and dire revenge animated the pale countenances of these famished and woe-worn men; and from the streets of the upper city were heard such cries of anguish and despair as reached the rocks and hills around, and were echoed back to mingle with the shouts of the Roman soldiers, and the dying groans of those who were perishing in the flames. In the midst of the confusion John of Gischala, ever intent on his own preservation, rushed out of the temple with a band of Zealots, and succeeded in forcing his way through the crowd and reaching the upper city in safety. At a later period a larger body of his adherents also took refuge there; but the priests and the greater portion of the Jewish leaders remained in the burning pile.

Every part of the temple was ransacked by the Roman soldiers, who climbed over heaps of slain to seize on the treasures that gleamed on all sides. The wealth that had been laid up by the Zealots was discovered and borne away, with the gold and jewels and rich vestments belonging to the service of the sanctuary; and even the bodies of the slaughtered priests were stripped of their embroidered vests and ornamented girdles by the rapacious hands of the victorious troops. One small band of Romans were seen hurrying through the courts, engaged in a different pursuit to that of their fellow-soldiers. They were Marcellus and a few of his faithful friends seeking to discover and save Zadok the priest. They were passing by the altar where he had been wont to minister in his course, when they observed a Roman soldier tearing away the golden clasp from the girdle of a slaughtered priest. Marcellus sprang forward, and beheld the lifeless countenance of Naomi's father. He had fallen beside the altar, and his features even in death wore the expression of dignified calmness that seldom deserted him in any event of life. Marcellus had arrested the plundering hand of the soldier, and as he stooped to replace the vestments of the priest, his eye fell on a roll of parchment that had been concealed in the folds of his garment. He took it up, and what was his astonishment at perceiving that it was a copy of the Gospel of Jesus Christ! Could it be possible that Zadok believed that Gospel? He secured the precious volume in his own vest, and with the assistance of his comrades bore the body of the priest to that part of the building where the fire was spreading most rapidly. They cast it into the flames, and left it to be consumed on that glorious funeral pile; safe from the insults which were heaped on the mangled forms of his brethren by the brutal soldiery.

This pious act performed, Marcellus sought for his commander, and obtained from him permission to lead a sufficient body of men from the temple to secure the house and family of Zadok from injury. Already a number of persons had escaped from the burning ruins, and were rushing distractedly through the streets of the lower city and that portion of the town which was connected with the temple. They were pursued by parties of the victorious troops, and the alarm was spread that the whole body of the Romans was coming down to bring fire and sword among the wretched inhabitants. Marcellus hurried on; he dreaded that even now he might be too late to save Naomi and her mother from danger and alarm. All whom he approached in traversing the well-known streets that led to Zadok's dwelling, fled before him, supposing that he and his followers came only to destroy.

The flames of the burning temple illuminated the whole of the city, and by that terrific light Marcellus saw what ravages famine and the sword had made among the inhabitants. He stepped shuddering over the decaying corpses that polluted the streets; and when his eye glanced upward he met the despairing gaze of many a spectral countenance watching him from the windows of the houses, and shrinking with terror at his approach.

The intrepid young soldier trembled with anxiety as he reached the gate of Zadok's house. Perhaps he should find his beloved Naomi a ghastly corpse! Could she have survived so much horror and privation? The gate was closed and secured inside, but it yielded to the united and powerful efforts of the soldiers, and Marcellus entered the courtyard. It was silent and deserted, for the domestics had fled to hide themselves at the dreaded approach of the Romans. Marcellus stationed the greatest part of his men in the court to prevent the entrance of any who might come for plunder or destruction; and attended only by two of his party, he proceeded with a beating heart to search the house for the objects of his anxiety. He found them not in the apartments, and he passed out upon the terrace. The red light that burnt so fiercely above fell upon the garden beneath the terrace, and he beheld a female form kneeling on the turf, while by her side stood one who seemed resolved to protect her or perish with her. An aged woman was near them, who uttered a shriek of terror as by the light of the conflagration she beheld three Roman soldiers appear on the terrace. Her scream awakened the kneeling maiden to a remembrance of her perilous situation, and she sprang to her feet.

"Slay her, Theophilus!" cried Deborah, in an accent of despair; "plunge your sword to her heart, and save her from the Roman conquerors. Better far to see her life-blood flow on the grave of her mother, than that she should be borne away a captive in the hands of the idolaters!"

Theophilus gazed on his trembling and lovely charge. Had he been any other than a disciple of Christ—had he not surely believed that her Lord and Saviour was able to protect her, and that come what may, his followers must endure to the end, and possess their soul in patience, he would have yielded to the wild entreaty of Deborah, and at once have put an end to Naomi's sufferings and dangers. He supported her sinking form, for now at last her courage and firmness deserted her, and she would have fallen to the ground had not Theophilus caught her in his arms, and held her while the dreaded enemy approached.

Marcellus commanded his men to remain on the terrace and sprang down the steps alone, crying loudly,

"Naomi, my own betrothed Naomi! you have nothing to fear: it is Marcellus."

His words were unheeded by Naomi, for she had fainted; and when he reached the spot where Theophilus stood in grateful astonishment, he snatched her senseless form from the arms of her cousin, and tears rolled down his manly cheeks as he gazed on her deathlike countenance.