The City of Delight

"Philadelphus Maccabaeus hath sent to me, bidding me send Laodice to

him--in Jerusalem," Costobarus said in a low voice.

Philip's eyes widened with sudden comprehension.

"He hath returned!" he exclaimed in a whisper.

For a time there was silence between the two old men, while they gazed

at each other. Then Philip's manner became intensely confident.

"I see!" he exclaimed again, in the same whisper. "The throne is

empty! He means to possess it, now that Agrippa hath abandoned it!"

Costobarus pressed his lips together and bowed his head emphatically.

Again there was silence.

"Think of it!" Philip exclaimed presently.

"I have done nothing else since his messenger arrived at daybreak.

Little, little, did I think when I married Laodice to him, fourteen

years ago, that the lad of ten and the little child of four might one

day be king and queen over Judea!"

Philip shook his head slowly and his gaze settled to the pavement.

Presently he drew in a long breath.

"He is twenty-four," he began thoughtfully. "He has all the learning

of the pagans, both of letters and of war; he--Ah! But is he capable?"

"He is the great-grandson of Judas Maccabaeus! That is enough! I have

not seen him since the day he wedded Laodice and left her to go to

Ephesus, but no man can change the blood of his fathers in him. And

Philip--he shall have no excuse to fail. He shall be moneyed; he shall

be moneyed!"

Costobarus leaned toward his friend and with a sweep of his hand

indicated the stripped room. It was a noble chamber. The stamp of the

elegant simplicity of Cyrus, the Persian, was upon it. The ancient

blue and white mosaics that had been laid by the Parsee builder and

the fretwork and twisted pillars were there, but the silky carpets,

the censers and the chairs of fine woods were gone. Costobarus looked

steadily at the perplexed countenance of Philip.

"Seest thou how much I believe in this youth?" he asked.

A shade of uneasiness crossed Philip's forehead.

"Thou art no longer young, Costobarus," he said, "and disappointments

go hard with us, at our age--especially, especially."

"I shall not be disappointed," Costobarus declared.

The friendly Jew looked doubtful.

"The nation is in a sad state," he observed. "We have cause. The

procurators have been of a nature with their patrons, the emperors. It

is enough but to say that! But Vespasian Cæsar is another kind of man.

He is tractable. Young Titus, who will succeed him, is well-named the

Darling of Mankind. We could get much redress from these if we would

be content with redress. But no! We must revert to the days of Saul!"