"What disorder, then, in the world," she went on, as if she had
followed a train of imagination through the triumph of the risen great
man. "Rome, the ruler of nations humbled! Conquest from Germany to the
First Cataract, from Gaul to the dry rocks of Ecbatana! A world in
anarchy, for one greater than Alexander to subjugate! The ancient
splendor of Asia, the wisdom of Africa and the virginity of Europe to
be his, and the homage of the four corners of the earth to be to him!"
John said nothing. Before him, the woman had entirely stripped off her
disguise. Now for the purpose!
At that moment one of Amaryllis' servants, who had stood guard without
the door, dodged apprehensively into the room and fled across to the
opposite arch. There he paused, ready for flight, and looked back with
wide eyes. John turned hastily but with an impatient gesture fell
again to his neglected meal. The actress looked to see what had
annoyed him. There passed in from the outer corridor a young man,
tall, magnificently formed, covered with a turban and draped in quaint
garments, which to her who was familiar with all the guises of the
theater seemed to be Buddhistic. He looked neither to the right nor
left, but passed with a step infinitely soft and gliding across to the
arch, from which the terrified servant vanished instantly. The
stranger stayed only a dramatic instant on the threshold and then
disappeared into the corridor which led up into the Temple. When he
had gone the startled actress retained a picture of a face, fearless,
beatified, mystic to the very edge of the supernatural.
"Who was that?" she asked of the Gischalan, who was gazing at the
color of his wine, sitting in a shaft of sunlight.
"Seraiah! But more than that, no one knows. He appeared with the
slaying of Zechariah the Just. He haunts the garrisons. Hence his
name--Soldier of Jehovah!"
"He did not speak; why did he come?"
"He never speaks; he goes where he will; no one would dare to stop
him!"
Then suddenly realizing that he was showing disinterest the Gischalan
drew himself up and smiled.
"He is mad; I believe he is mad. The city is full of demoniacs."
"There is something great about him!" the woman declared. "He seems to
be the instrument of miracle."
"Is it that?" John asked in an amused tone.
She studied him for a moment that was tense with meaning.
"Do you know," she began slowly, "that neither you nor Simon, nor any
of these who aspire to the control of Jerusalem, have come upon the
plan which will best appeal to your distracted subjects?"
"Have we not?" he repeated. "We have bought them and bullied them; we
are fighting the Romans for them; we are preaching patience in the
will of the Lord. What more, lady?"