THE ROBE (42 page)

'See it through!' echoed Marcellus. 'But he has seen it through! Hasn't
he given his donkey to the crippled lad? You don't think he may repent of his
generosity, and ask Thomas to give the donkey back, do you?'

'No, no--not that! But they're all down there on the corner telling
Jonathan what a fine little fellow he is. You should have heard them, when
Thomas and his mother set off--Thomas riding the donkey and his mother walking
alongside, so happy she was crying. And all the women caressing Jonathan, and
saying, "How sweet! How kind! How brave!"' Justus sighed deeply. 'It
was too bad! But, of course, I couldn't rebuke them. I came away.'

'But Justus!' exclaimed Marcellus. 'Surely it is only natural that the
neighbours should praise Jonathan for what he did! It was no small sacrifice
for a little boy! Isn't it right that the child should be commended?'

'Commended, yes,' agreed Justus, 'but not praised overmuch. As you have
said, this thing has cost Jonathan a high price. He has a right to be rewarded
for it--in his heart. It would be a great pity if all he gets out of it is
smugness! There is no vanity so damaging to a man's character as pride over his
good deeds! Let him be proud of his muscles, his fleetness, his strength, his
face, his marksmanship, his craftsmanship, his endurance--these are the common
frailties that beset us all. But when a man becomes vain in his goodness, it is
a great tragedy! My boy is very young and inexperienced. He could be so easily
ruined by self-righteousness, almost without realizing what ailed him.'

'I see what you mean,' declared Marcellus. 'I agree with you. This thing
will either make Jonathan strong--beyond his years, or it will make a little
prig of him. Justus--let's get out of here before the neighbours have had a
chance to ruin him. We'll take him along with us! What do you say?'

Justus's eyes lighted. He nodded an enthusiastic approval.

'I shall speak with his mother,' he said. 'We will pack up and leave--at
once!'

'That's sensible,' said Marcellus. 'I was afraid you might insist on
Jonathan's remaining here, just to see how much of this punishment he could
take.'

'No!' said Justus. 'It wouldn't be fair to overload the little fellow.
He has done very well indeed. It is time now that we gave him a helping hand.
We too have some obligations in this case, my friend!'

'You're right!' Marcellus began rolling up the letter he had just
finished. 'I got Jonathan into this mess, and I'll do my best to help him
through it without his being damaged.'

Justus no more than had time to enter the house before Jonathan put in
an appearance at the door of the tent, wearing the wan, tremulous smile of a
patient burden-bearer.

'Hi! Jonathan,' greeted Marcellus, noisily. 'I hear you got young Thomas
started on his way. That's good. What do you want with a donkey, anyhow? You
have two of the best legs in town.' Busily preoccupied with the blankets he was
folding up and stuffing into a pack-saddle, he absently chattered on, half to
himself, 'A boy who was once a cripple, and then was cured, should be so glad
he could walk that he would never want to ride!'

'But Jasper was such a nice donkey,' replied Jonathan, biting his lip.
'Everybody said they didn't know how I could give him up.'

'Well, never mind what everybody said!' barked Marcellus. 'Don't let
them spoil it for you now. You're a stout little fellow--and that's the end of
it! Here! blow your nose, and give me a hand on this strap!'

Justus appeared in time to hear the last of it. He winced--and grinned.

'Jonathan,' he said, 'we are taking you with us for a few days' journey.
Your mother is packing some things for you.'

'Me?
I'm going with you?' squealed Jonathan. 'Oh!' and he raced
around the corner of the tent, shouting gleefully.

Justus and Marcellus exchanged sober glances.

'That was a brutal thing I did just now!' muttered Marcellus.

'"Faithful are the wounds of a friend,"' said Justus.
'Jonathan will recover. He already has something new to think about--now that
he is going with us.'

'By the way, Justus, where
are
we going?'

'I had thought of Capernaum next.'

'That can wait. We might overtake Thomas and Jasper. We don't want to
see any more of them to-day. Let's go back to Cana. It will do little Jonathan
good to have a look at Miriam.'

Justus tried to conceal a broad grin by tugging at his beard.

'Perhaps it would do you good too, Marcellus,' he ventured. 'But will
you not be wasting your time? We have seen everything there is for sale--in
Cana.' Suddenly Marcellus, who had been tossing camp equipment into a wicker
box, straightened and looked Justus squarely in the eyes.

'I think I have bought all the homespun I want,' he announced, bluntly.
'What I have been learning about this Jesus has made me curious to hear more. I
wonder if you will help me meet a few people who knew him--people who might be
willing to talk about him.'

'That would be difficult,' said Justus, frankly. 'Our people have no
reasons for feeling that they can talk freely with Romans. They would find it
hard to understand why a man of your nation should be making inquiries about
Jesus. Perhaps you are not aware that the Romans put him to death. Maybe you do
not know that the legionaries--especially in Jerusalem--are on the alert for
any signs that the friends of Jesus are organized.'

'Do you suspect me of being a spy, Justus?' asked Marcellus, bluntly.

'No, I do not think you are a spy. I do not know what you are,
Marcellus; but I am confident that you have no evil intent. I shall be willing
to tell you some things about Jesus.'

'Thank you, Justus.' Marcellus drew from his tunic the letter he had
written. 'Tell me: how may I send this to Jerusalem?'

Justus frowned, eyeing the scroll suspiciously.

'There is a Roman fort at Capernaum,' he muttered. 'Doubtless they have
messengers going back and forth, every few days.'

Marcellus handed him the scroll and pointed to the address.

'I do not want this letter handled through the Capernaum fort,' he said,
'or the Insula at Jerusalem. It must be delivered by a trusted messenger into
the care of the Greek, Stephanos, at Benyosef's shop.'

'So you do know that slave Demetrius,' commented Justus. 'I thought as
much.'

'Yes, he is
my
slave.'

'I had wondered about that, too.'

'Indeed! Well, what else had you wondered about? Let's clean it all up,
while we're at it.'

'I have wondered what your purpose was in making this trip into
Galilee,' said Justus, brightening a little.

'Well--now you know; don't you?'

'I am not sure that I do.' Justus laid a hand on Marcellus's arm. 'Tell
me this: did you ever see Jesus; ever hear him talk?'

'Yes,' admitted Marcellus, 'but I could not understand what he said. At
that time I did not know the language.'

'Did you study Aramaic so you could learn something about him?'

'Yes, I had no other interest in it.'

'Let me ask one more question.' Justus lowered his voice. 'Are you one
of us?'

'That's what I came up here to find out,' said Marcellus. 'Will you help
me?'

'As much as I can,' agreed Justus, 'as much as you are able to
comprehend.'

Marcellus looked puzzled.

'Do you mean that there are some mysteries here that I am not bright
enough to understand?' he demanded, soberly.

'Bright enough, yes,' rejoined Justus. 'But an understanding of Jesus is
not a mere matter of intelligence. Some of this story has to be accepted by
faith.'

'Faith comes hard with me,' frowned Marcellus. 'I am not superstitious.'

'So much the better,' declared Justus. 'The higher the price you have to
pay, the more you will cherish what you get.' Impulsively throwing aside his
coat, he began pulling up tent-stakes. 'We will talk more about this later,' he
said. 'It is time we were on our way if we hope to reach Cana by sunset.' Suddenly
he straightened with a new idea. 'I have it!' he exclaimed. 'We will go to
Nazareth! It is much nearer than Cana. Nazareth was Jesus' home town. His
mother lives there still. She will not hesitate to talk freely with you. When
she learns that you--a Roman--saw her son, and was so impressed that you wanted
to know more about him, she will tell you everything!'

'No--no!' exclaimed Marcellus, wincing. 'I have no wish to see her.'
Noting the sudden perplexity on Justus's face, he added, 'I feel sure she would
not want to talk about her son--to a Roman.'

For the first three miles, Jonathan frolicked about the little caravan
with all the aimless extravagance of a frisky pup, dashing on ahead, inexpertly
throwing stones at the crows, and making many brief excursions into the fields.
But as the sun rose higher, his wild enthusiasm came under better control. Now
he was content to walk sedately beside his grandfather, taking long strides and
feeling very manly. After a while he took his grandfather's hand and shortened
his steps at the request of his aching legs.

Preoccupied with their conversation, which was weighty, Justus had been
only vaguely aware of the little boy's weariness; but when he stumbled and
nearly fell, they all drew up in the shade, unloaded the pack-train, and
reapportioned their burdens so that the smallest donkey might be free for a
rider. Jonathan made no protest when they lifted him up.

'I wish I had kept that nice saddle,' he repined.

'No, you don't,' drawled Marcellus. 'When you give anything away, make a
good job of it. Don't skimp!'

'Our friend speaks truly, my boy,' said Justus. 'The donkey will carry
you safely without a saddle. Let us move on, and when the sun is directly
overhead, we will have something to eat.'

'I'm hungry now!' murmured Jonathan.

'The bread will taste better at noon,' advised Justus.

'I'm hungry too,' intervened Marcellus, mercifully. As he unstrapped the
hamper, he added, out of the corner of his mouth, 'He's only a baby, Justus.
Don't be too hard on him.'

Justus grumbled a little over the delay and the breakdown of discipline,
but it was easy to see that he had been mellowed by Marcellus's gentle defence
of the child. A token lunch was passed about, and presently they were on the
highway again.

'You would have been delighted with the mind of Jesus,' said Justus,
companionably. 'You have a generous heart, Marcellus. How often he talked about
generosity! In his opinion there was nothing meaner than a mean gift. About the
worst thing a man could do to himself or a fellow creature was to bestow a
grudged gift. It was very hard on a man's character to
give
away
something that should have been
thrown
away! That much of Jesus'
teachings you could accept, my friend, without any difficulty.'

'That is a friendly comment, Justus, but you do me too much credit,'
protested Marcellus. 'The fact is, I have never in my life given anything away
that impoverished me in the least. I have never given anything away that I
needed or wanted to keep. I suppose Jesus parted with everything he had.'

'Everything!' said Justus. 'He had nothing but the garments he wore. He
held that if a man had two coats, he should give one away. During his last year
with us he wore a good robe. Perhaps he would have given that away, too, if it
hadn't been given to him in peculiar circumstances.'

'Would you like to tell me about it?' asked Marcellus.

'There was an ill-favoured woman in Nazareth who was suspected of
practising witchcraft. She was a dwarfish person with an ugly countenance, and
walked alone, friendless and bitter. The children cried after her on the road.
And so a legend spread that Tamar had an evil eye. One Sabbath day the
neighbours heard her loom banging, and warned her against this breaking of the
law; for many of our people have more respect for the Sabbath than they have
for one another. Tamar did not heed the warning and she was reported to the
authorities, who burst in upon her, on a Sabbath morning, and destroyed her
loom which was her living. Perhaps you can guess the rest of the story,' said
Justus.

'It was fortunate for Tamar that Jesus was a good carpenter,' remarked
Marcellus. 'But what did the authorities think of his coming to Tamar's aid?
Did they accuse him of being sympathetic with Sabbath-breakers?'

'That they did!' declared Justus. 'It was at a time when the priests
were on the alert to find him at fault. The people often urged him to speak in
the village synagogues, and this displeased the rabbis. They were always
haranguing the people about their tithes and sacrificial offerings. But Jesus
talked about friendship and hospitality to strangers and relief for the poor.'

'But, didn't the rabbis believe in friendship and charity?' wondered
Marcellus.

'Oh, yes, of course. They took it for granted that everybody was agreed
on that.'

'In theory, at least,' surmised Marcellus.

'Exactly! In theory. But securing funds to support the synagogue--that
was practical! They had to talk constantly about money. It left them no time to
talk about the things of the spirit.'

'Well, go on about Tamar,' interposed Marcellus. 'I suppose Jesus
reconstructed her loom--and she wove him the robe.'

'Right! And he wore it until he died.'

'Were you there, when he died?' asked Marcellus, uneasily.

'No, I was in prison.' Justus seemed disinclined to enlarge upon this
matter; but, when questioned, told the story briefly. A few days before his
trial for treason and disturbing the peace, Jesus had impulsively driven the
hucksters and bankers out of the Temple. Several of his friends had been
arrested and thrown into prison on the charge of having gathered up some of the
scattered coins from the pavement. The accusation was untrue, Justus insisted,
but they were kept in prison for a fortnight. 'It was all over,' he said,
sadly, 'when we were released. As for the robe--the Roman soldiers gambled for
it, and carried it away with them. We often wondered what became of it. It
could have had no value--for them.'