Chapter 21 - Page 2

are grown old and feeble, and so am I,' said she, 'We
have pitied every child of sorrow but ourselves.' And they rose and
put their arms about each other and went into the dark valley of death,
heart to heart, that very day, and were seen no more of men. And they
in the hills of Galilee, where the lovers dwelt, made much account of
them, for while she had not borne the great king, still was she long
remembered as the blessed mother of holy love. Now, maidens, with
youth and love and beauty strong upon them, gave all for the great
hope. And wonderful stories went abroad, and women were more sacred in
the eyes of men, seeing that one of them, indeed, must be mother of the
very Son of God."

The slave-girl covered her face and her body shook with emotion.

"Cyran, why are you crying?" said Arria.

"Because," Cyran replied, her voice trembling--"because I can never be
the blessed mother."

"Tell me," said Arria, "have you never felt the great love?"

Cyran rose and looked down at her mistress.

"I have felt the pain of it," said she, sadly. "And my heart--Oh, it
is like the house of mourning where Sorrow has hushed the Children of
Joy. But the sweet pain of love is dear to me."

"Tell me of it."

"Good mistress, I cannot tell you."

"Why, dear Cyran?"

"Because--" the slave-girl hesitated; then timidly and with trembling
lips she whispered, "because, dear mistress, I--I love you." She
seemed to bend beneath her burden and, knelt beside her mistress and
wept.

"Go--please go," said Appius, turning to Cyran. "You irritate me, and
I cannot understand you."

But Arria divined the secret of the poor slave-girl, and pitied her.

Cyran rose and left them.

"The great love may come to you, and then you shall understand," said
Arria to Appius.

"The great madness!" her brother exclaimed. "I like not these Jewish
cattle. The gods forgive me that we have fallen among them. With a
Jew for a pilot we should make a landing in Hades."

Something in his manner alarmed the girl.

"What mean you?" she inquired.

"I will tell you to-morrow," said her brother. "'Tis time you went to
your couch and I to mine. Have no fear."

Now, the young Roman had begun to suspect the pilot of some evil plan.
After the girl had left him he sat drinking wine for hours. Soon he
was in a merry way, singing songs and jesting with all who passed him.
Long after the dark had come, when Tepas only remained upon deck,
Appius reeled up and down, singing,