Chapter 4

‘I gather that you do not care much for Gaza,’ commented Fara. ‘I shall take your advice. The first large city to the west is Hebron, is it not? Is that any better?’

‘Much! Hebron has been sound asleep for two thousand years, so there’s nothing very lively about it; but at least it won’t rob you or poison your food or murder you in your bed.’ Tim recrossed his long legs and gave Fara a candid stare. ‘How do you happen to speak Greek, young man? You don’t live in Greece, do you?’

‘Nor do you, sir,’ said Fara with equal bluntness, ‘yet you speak Greek.’

‘I am a Greek!’ declared Tim proudly. ‘You are a Jew, are you not?’

‘I am not!’ replied Fara. ‘I am an Arabian.’

Tim studied her face with interest, pursed his lips, and nodded.

‘My mistake,’ he muttered. ‘No offence, I hope.’

‘Not at all, sir. I have no quarrel with the Jewish people.’

Tim laughed quietly and said that he never thought he would hear an Arabian say that.

‘But it is not so long, sir,’ Fara risked saying, ‘since the Jews and Arabians were in alliance.’

‘What an alliance!’ scoffed Tim. ‘Of course you know all about that wretched marriage. One thing I never could understand: I know many Arabians—fine fellows who love nothing better than a good fight. Why haven’t they ripped the bowels out of that Jewish rascal who humiliated your Princess? Surely it can’t be that they have forgotten—or do not care!’

Unable to think of an appropriate answer to that, Fara abruptly changed the subject by saying:

‘I could not help overhearing your talk about a prophet you met who said the world was to be punished for its misdeeds. Does he propose to attend to this chastisement?’

‘No; not he,’ said Tim. ‘The fellow was careful to say that he himself was only a courier, announcing the early arrival of a divine person whom he depicted as a mighty avenger, a divinity to be sent from Heaven with an axe in his hand. The rotten old growth we have called Civilization was to be cut down so that something healthy and fruitful might grow.’

‘Coming soon?’ asked Fara.

‘You would think, from his talk, that the prophet expected the avenger by next week—at the latest. If he had said it would occur a hundred years from now, his prediction would have been less risky.’

‘And less interesting,’ added Fara. ‘Do you think the prophet might be there—at Hebron—tomorrow?’

‘Unless he has moved further toward the hills. He was at least half a mile north of the road when we sighted the crowd. Apparently he does not study the people’s convenience. They say he goes where he likes and the multitude follows. If you are interested I suggest that you inquire along the way as you approach Hebron. Almost anyone will tell you. The air is full of him over there.’ Tim rose to move away, and Fara also came to her feet.

‘Am I right in surmising that you were inclined to believe what he said?’ she asked seriously.

Tim tugged at his lip, debating a reply.

‘I don’t know rightly what I do think about it,’ he answered, measuring his words. ‘The Jews are a singular people. They have always had their prophets, and many of their predictions have proved true, even to the dating of important events and the outcome of far distant wars. You’d better hear this man John for yourself. He may be greatly mistaken, but he is no fool!’

‘Your friend says the man is crazy as a beetle,’ said Fara.

‘My friend,’ drawled Tim, ‘is a typical Greek who became a typical Roman. He doesn’t believe in anything he can’t eat or wear or buy or sell or ride.’

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