Prince Ahab lived in a palace of stone and fragrant cedarwood, on a hill above the village of Gath-Hepher, and almost within sight of the little cottage occupied by Jonah’s mother. The prince, whose large holdings in the North had increased in value due to the success of the war in Syria, surrounded himself with every luxury. Nevertheless, in the midst of jewels, silks, slaves, and the richest perfumes, he himself remained simple and straightforward. Of a martial, almost to say gloomy appearance, he affected the stern manners of the Assyrians, with whose thick gold fringes he decorated his cloak and his girdle. He was heavy, but he was vigorous and active; like the nobles of Assur, he took endless pleasure in hunting, for which he imported blooded falcons and swift horses from Iran. He lived in the saddle; and he complained of the degeneracy of Israel. “Effeminate people,” he exclaimed, “you do not exercise enough.” And the sleepy citizens of Bethel would be awakened by the trampling of horses and the sound of horns, as Ahab rode out at dawn to hunt boar in the forests of Baal Hazor.
In the afternoon, while the king deliberated with his nobles upon affairs of state, Ahab dozed. Upon being reminded of the presence before the council of important matters, he remarked that he had been out riding. And he exclaimed with enthusiasm:
“Exercise is the thing.”
An old woman by the name of Sarah kept house for him in his palace of cedarwood and broadstone. She was sharp and severe, but she knew her own value. By noticing the faults of other people, she kept her self-respect. She managed the house and the slaves, and acted as nurse to Ahab’s niece, his sister’s child, Judith.
Judith at sixteen possessed a voluptuous body, a pious spirit, and an inexperienced mind. Her gentle soul united in itself the gay ardors of a child with the cloudy desires of a woman. Everything surprised her, and everything pleased her; she was anxious to know everything, and she knew nothing. Eager and trusting, her brown eyes explored with sympathy but without understanding the life she saw all about her. She was happy and dreamy by turns; but sometimes at night her pillow was wet with tears. She would have said that something beautiful had made her cry, perhaps a thought, perhaps a feeling. But she could not have explained what it was, not even to Sarah, to whom she told everything. Perhaps it was the moonlight in the courtyard, and the scent of jasmine or lotus from the garden. But that was lovely; why should it make her cry? Such things perplexed her.
Sometimes she wished she were a boy, so that she might go hunting with her uncle. Then she saw herself seated on a white horse, with her green cape blowing in the wind, galloping and shouting. But at the thought of piercing an animal with her spear, she turned away with quick displeasure. “No,” she thought, “I should not like to go hunting.”
And she told her uncle that she was glad she was a girl. “So am I,” he replied, “because if you were a boy, I should be disgusted with you.” He loved his niece, but he liked people to be active and hardy. “The women of to-day,” he often said, “do not amount to much.
“They have no enthusiasm.”
Now Judith sat before her bronze mirror, twisting her long brown hair into plaits. As she sat, she sang:
“_My love is a shepherd in Sharon,
By rivers he waters his sheep,
Blue are the waters of Sharon,
Rivers of Sharon are deep._”
She knew no one in Sharon. Nevertheless her nurse said to her angrily, “Now tell me, what sort of song is that for a young girl to sing?”
Judith replied that it was just a song. She added with a smile, “You are vexed because you do not know any shepherds, and because you have no lover.”
“That is my own business,” said Sarah, drawing herself up with dignity. “However, I must say that it does not become you to speak of things like that. What do you know about love? Nothing, I sincerely hope. You should be thinking of marriage, with respectful modesty.”
“Well,” said Judith, “as a matter of fact, I think love is silly. It does not interest me, really. Were you ever in love? Tell me honestly, Sarah; I cannot imagine such a thing.”
Sarah gazed gloomily at her mistress. Presently a blush overspread her sallow countenance. “In love?” she exclaimed; “certainly not. With what, if I may ask? The trouble with you is that your head is full of nonsense. When I was your age I had more decorum. I was prettier than I am to-day, and I attracted the attention of a very handsome man, a camel driver, but such a wild one. He was not good enough for me, and I sent him about his business. I knew my own worth.”
So saying she tossed her head, with an air. But Judith clapped her hands. “A camel driver,” she exclaimed, “why, Sarah, you never told me. Did he take you up on his camel? Just think, how delightful. That’s really life, isn’t it, Sarah?”
“Ak,” cried the nurse, “where do you get such ideas?”
And turning to Prince Ahab, who was entering the room at that moment, she exclaimed,
“God knows who puts such things into her head.”
Prince Ahab replied, with a discouraged gesture, “Do not ask me, Sarah, for I do not know who puts anything into people’s heads nowadays. I assure you, the entire world is mad. Do you know what the king is doing, now that the war is over? You would think he would be getting ready for the next one. Not at all; he prefers to discuss the marriage laws with Prince Absalom. What a state of affairs. Do not expect me to know what makes a young girl foolish besides.”
“I am not foolish, Uncle,” said Judith; “when I am older, I shall be just as wise as you or Sarah.”
“Be respectful to your uncle,” said Sarah.
Ahab shrugged his shoulders. “No one is respectful any more,” he said; “I simply wonder that people do not go around with their fingers actually to their noses. But, then, with so many prophets filling the air with groans and complaints.... Amos, Joel, Hosea, they are enough to fill the mind of anybody with disrespect.”
“And Jonah?” asked Judith.
Ahab replied gravely: “Jonah is not like the others. He comes of a worthy family of Zebulon; as a matter of fact, his home is here in this village. So, you can see, there is something to him. His brother is the village herdsman. Yes, Jonah is quite a different thing altogether.”
Judith looked lazily at her face in the mirror. “Tell me what he is like,” she said.
“What’s that to you?” asked Sarah. She added that she supposed he was old and had a long white beard.
“No,” replied Ahab, “he is not old. He is young, and enthusiastic. His eyes seem to burn. He is a little thin, but one can understand that, living in the desert, and probably starving most of the time. It is not a healthy life. I came upon him during the battle against the Aramæans; the fighting had made him sick. He is not what I would call a very robust individual.”
“And did he really see an angel,” asked Judith, “as they say he did?”
“Why not?” said Ahab. “Is there any reason why a man from my own village should not see an angel? He has certainly as much right to see one as Amos of Tekoa; or do you imagine that angels only appear to the men of Judah?”
“What an idea,” cried Sarah.
And she added with conviction, “For myself, I would sooner take the word of a man from Zebulon.”
But when Prince Ahab had gone, she said, sniffing the air with vexation, “Men ought to stay out of the women’s apartments, where they have no business, whether they are uncles or not.” Seizing a vial of sweet-smelling oil, she began to sprinkle its contents in the room. This consoled her nose, which had been outraged by the prince, who, as usual, had come from the stables.
Judith went out into the warm spring morning. The bees were humming in the blossoms, the birds sang quietly and gaily in the trees, and trees and blossoms stretched themselves luxuriously in the bright sunshine. Judith took a deep breath of the hot, sweet air; it was like eating flowers, she thought. Underfoot, in the grass, beetles moved gravely to and fro on their mysterious business; the world of stones and twigs was being explored by little eager ants; wasps hung and buzzed. The earth exhaled the beneficent fragrance of spring; everywhere was drowsy joy, tranquil activity. A tanager flew overhead with scarlet wings, turned, shone, and fled among the trees. The girl paused, and looked up at the sky, blue as a robin’s egg. “I should like to dance,” she thought.
A moment later she added doubtfully, “But perhaps it would be wrong.”
At her feet a beetle with a bright green coat which reflected the light was walking soberly toward his house. Presently an ant approached him and gave him a bite on the leg. The beetle turned an anxious look on his tiny assailant, whose head barely came up to his knee, “Come, come,” he exclaimed, “have you no respect for beauty? Do you think God enjoys having you bite me? He would be very much upset if anything happened to me.”
Disdaining to reply, the ant went away to find his friends and discuss the situation. “I gave it to him,” he said; “I gave him a bite he won’t forget in a hurry. Now he knows who I am.”
Left to himself, the beetle hurried home in an agitated manner. And Judith, remarking his awkward gait, cried,
“There, you are dancing, you strange creature, with your lovely green coat. But that is quite another matter, because you are a beetle, and not a Jew.”
She had a sudden thought. “Perhaps,” she said, “that is why you are dancing. Perhaps you are a little god, with such a fine green coat. Well, go in peace, I will not step on you. I will make a wish, instead. Little beetle, tell me what love is. It does not interest me, really; I would simply like to know....”
She broke off with a start. A shadow had fallen on the grass at her feet, and she looked up with surprise. There, behind her and to one side, stood a young man. He was not good-looking, but his expression was gentle and kind. He had on an old, tattered cloak, and he leaned thoughtfully upon a rough staff which easily supported his weight. Judith looked at him with wide-open eyes.
“Oh, my,” she said.
And she added faintly, but in accents of hope, “Are you also a camel driver?”
The young man shook his head. “No,” he said, “I am not a camel driver.”
Seeing that his reply had disappointed the young woman, he added simply,
