Paul, accompanied by young Stephen, is started at about midnight, under strong military escort, for Cæsarea. At the gate of the castle, Shimei, lurking there, is arrested, and brought before the chiliarch, Claudius Lysias by name. A conversation ensues, in which Shimei, for a time with some success, practises on the chiliarch his characteristic arts of deception. At last, the chiliarch, denouncing him for what he is, and putting him under heavy bonds to respond in person, whenever and wherever afterward commanded by the Roman authorities, dismisses him from presence, chagrined and dismayed.
SHIMEI AND THE CHILIARCH.
Ere midnight, had reveillé to those twain
Sounded, and from brief slumber rallied them.
They passed from the surprise of that farewell
Kissed on the coolness of Gamaliel's brow—
He his reveillé waiting from the trump
Of resurrection, tranced in happy sleep!—
From this passed Paul and Stephen to the court
Without, where stood, made ready in array,
Five hundred Roman soldiers, foot and horse,
Filling the place with frequence and ferment.
Armed men, and horses in caparison,
And saddled asses thick together poured—
All was alive with motion and with sound.
There was the stamping hoof of restless steed,
The rattling bridle-rein, the bridle-bit
Champed hoary, the impatient toss of head
Shaking the mane disheveled, and with foam
Flecking the breast, the shoulder, and the flank,
Eruptive snort from nostril and from lip,
The ass's long and melancholy bray,
Horse's salute of recognition neighed
To greet some fellow welcomed in the throng,
Therewith, voices of men, scuffle of feet—
All under bickering light and shadow flung
From torches, fixed or moving, fume and flame.
To Paul and Stephen sharp the contrast was
Between that quietude and this turmoil,
Sleeping Gamaliel and these urgent men!
But Paul his peace held fast amid it all,
Peace, yet a posture girded and alert;
While Stephen, hanging on his uncle's eye,
Caught the contagion of that heedful calm.
The natural pathos of one fond regret
Ached in the heart of Paul, a hoarded pain—
His wish, denied him, to have given in charge,
Before he went, Gamaliel's lifeless form,
If to the keeping of his kindred not,
At least to Roman care and piety;
Amid the hurly-burly of the hour,
No chance of speech, with any that would heed,
For Jewish prisoner hurried thence by night!
But Paul's reveréd friend, safe fallen asleep
In Jesus, beyond care or want was blest;
Yea, and the human reverence of great death,
Toward one in death so reverend great as he,
Well might be trusted, for such clay to win,
Through kindred care, the sepulture most meet.
Yet Paul, come to Antipatris, and there
Left with the horsemen only thence to ride,
A needless careful message touching this
Gave to the chief of the returning foot.
When to the chiliarch's ear such word was brought,
That captain deeply mused it in his mind—
To find it throw a most unlooked-for light
On certain dark alternatives of doubt
That had meanwhile his judgment sore perplexed.
Lowly upon an ass they seated Paul,
And Stephen, likewise mounted, ranged beside.
Then those appointed to prick forth before,
Out through the two-leaved gate at sign withdrawn,
Were issuing on the street in order due,
When the proud prudent steed that led the way
Swerved, and, with mighty surge of rash recoil,
Had nigh his rider from the saddle thrown.
He, his fine nostril wide distended, snuffed
Suspicion on the tainted wind, and, dazed
His eyes with darkness from the glare just left
Of torchlight in the court, uncertain saw,
To the right hand beside the open port,
There on the ground, as ambushed at his feet,
A motion, or a shadow, or a shape,
Which to his careful mind portended ill.
"Halt!" rang abrupt the startling stern command;
"Seize him!" the leader of the vanguard cried,
And pointed to the skulking figure near.
Darted three soldiers from the rank of foot,
With instant light celerity—a flash
Of movement from the serried column sent
Inerrant to its aim, like lever-arm
Of long bright steel by some machine flung forth
To do prehensile office and fetch home—
Darted upon the man in hiding there,
And brought him prisoner to the chiliarch.
"Knowest thou this man?" the chiliarch asked of Paul.
"Shimei his name, an elder of the Jews,"
Responded Paul; turning, the chiliarch then
Said: "Thou—Stephen, I think they call thee—speak.
Thou toldst me yesterday, not naming him,
Of one all-capable of crime, the head
And chief of a conspiracy to slay;
Answer—thou needst not fear—is this the man?"
Stephen flushed shame; "The same, my lord," he said;
He dropped therewith his eyes, and head declined.