Page:Ben-Hur a tale of the Christ.djvu/135

Rh Thin white locks fell below the edge of his full turban, and a mass of still whiter beard flowed down the front of his coarse gray gown. He came slowly, for, in addition to his age, he carried some tools—an axe, a saw, and a drawing-knife, all very rude and heavy—and had evidently travelled some distance without rest.

He stopped close by to survey the assemblage.

&quot;O Rabbi, good Rabbi Joseph!&quot; cried a woman, running to him. &quot;Here is a prisoner; come ask the soldiers about him, that we may know who he is, and what he has done, and what they are going to do with him.&quot;

The rabbi's face remained stolid; he glanced at the prisoner, however, and presently went to the officer.

&quot;The peace of the Lord be with you!&quot; he said, with unbending gravity.

&quot;And that of the gods with you, the decurion replied.

&quot;Are you from Jerusalem?&quot;

&quot;Yes.&quot;

&quot;Your prisoner is young.&quot;

&quot;In years, yes.&quot;

&quot;May I ask what he has done?&quot;

&quot;He is an assassin.&quot;

The people repeated the word in astonishment, but Rabbi Joseph pursued his inquest.

&quot;Is he a son of Israel?&quot;

&quot;He is a Jew,&quot; said the Roman, dryly.

The wavering pity of the bystanders came back.

&quot;I know nothing of your tribes, but can speak of his family,&quot; the speaker continued. &quot;You may have heard of a prince of Jerusalem named Hur—Ben-Hur, they called him. He lived in Herod's day.&quot;

&quot;I have seen him,&quot; Joseph said.

&quot;Well, this is his son.&quot;

Exclamations became general, and the decurion hastened to stop them.

&quot;In the streets of Jerusalem, day before yesterday, he nearly killed the noble Gratus by flinging a tile upon his head from the roof of a palace—his father's, I believe.&quot;

There was a pause in the conversation during which the Nazarenes gazed at the young Ben-Hur as at a wild beast.