“Calvary?”
“Same ol’ place, sir,” the dragoman replied, gravely, “but naturally ver’ much change’. Ver’ well authenticate’, too, accordin’ by latest authorities. Which thing I am ver’ happy to state—with perfect truth, at last.”
Falcontent rode on in silence. It was dark in the city. There were no details: there was the mystery of dim-lit habitations—of narrow streets—of shuffling forms.... And this was Jerusalem! There was actually such a place! Falcontent all at once realized the existence of the city as a physical fact. It had a place in history—not wholly in legend. It was of old time. It was real.... The American Revolution and the Civil War were legendary conflicts in Falcontent’s consciousness until he had with amazed understanding set foot on the battle-fields and stared about.... And Gethsemane was near by! Precise location? Pst! What matter? There had been a Garden of Gethsemane! The Mount of Olives, too: it was a remarkable hill—now within reach, like Grant’s Tomb at home. And Calvary! There had been a place called Calvary!... Falcontent was profoundly moved by his proximity to these places which now at last were real. Falcontent was shocked; his unbelief in the tradition—was it tradition?—of the Divine Presence upon earth was disturbed. A presence in Jerusalem—roundabout: here and beyond.... Falcontent began to whistle a snatch from “The Queen of the Great White Way.” It was incongruous; he could not bear to continue.... There had been a Teacher: that was true—it was as true as Grant and Lincoln and Washington—and the teaching was not yet forgotten in the world. Falcontent knew it all well enough—the life and philosophy which somewhere near by these very places had had their origin.... To relieve the agitation of these disclosures Falcontent tried once more the topical song from “The Queen of the Great White Way.” It was impossible.
“Cold?” Awad inquired.
“No,” Falcontent answered. “I’m not cold. I’m shivering, though. That’s funny, isn’t it?”
“Well, no,” said Awad. “Ver’ commonplace thing to happen. I should not have be surprise’ if, on the other hand, you have swear ver’ harshly.”
Falcontent had experienced—and had thereby been horrified—a curious impulse to blaspheme.
“That’s queer,” he drawled now.
“Ver’ commonplace thing,” the dragoman repeated. He shrugged. “I recommend, if I be permit,” he went on, impassively, “a hot bath, food, an’ perusal of Holy Scriptures for historical data. I am great believer in original sources. Let us say, Gospel accordin’ St. Luke—chapter two, especially. It is Christmas Eve. To-night—accordin’ by itinerary—we visit Bethlehem. Carriage an’ all fees my pleasure to provide accordin’ by terms of my contract.”