The City of Delight

"Here are one hundred of the talents," Costobarus said.

A flash of understanding lighted Philip's face not unmingled with the

satisfaction of a shrewd Jew who has pleased himself at business. One

hundred talents, then, for the best establishment in five cities, in

all the Philistine country. But why? Costobarus supplied the answer at

that instant.

"I would depart with my daughter by mid-afternoon," he said.

"I doubt the counting houses; if I had known sooner--" Philip began.

"Aquila arrived only this morning. I sent a messenger to you at once."

Philip rose.

"We waste time in talk. I shall inform thee by messenger presently.

God speed thee! My blessings on thy son-in-law and on thy daughter!"

Costobarus rose and took his friend's hand.

"Thou shalt have the portion of the wise-hearted man in this kingdom.

And this yet further, my friend. If perchance the uncertainties of

travel in this distressed land should prove disastrous and I should

not return, I shall leave a widow here--"

"And in that instance, be at peace. I am thy brother."

Costobarus pressed Philip's hand.

"Farewell," he said; and Philip embraced him and went forth.

Costobarus turned to one of his closed windows and thrust it open, for

the influence of the spring sun had made itself felt in the past

important hour for Costobarus.

Noon stood beautiful and golden over the city. The sky was

clean-washed and blue, and the surface of the Mediterranean, glimpsed

over white house-tops that dropped away toward the sea-front, was a

wandering sheet of flashing silver. Here and there were the ruins of

the last year's warfare, but over the fallen walls of gray earth the

charity of running vines and the new growth of the spring spread a

beauty, both tender and compassionate.

In such open spaces inner gardens were exposed and almond trees tossed

their crowns of white bloom over pleached arbors of old grape-vines.

Here the Mediterranean birds sang with poignant sweetness while the

new-budded limbs of the oleanders tilted suddenly under their weight

as they circled from covert to covert.

But the energy of the young spring was alive only in the birds and the

blossoming orchards. Wherever the solid houses fronted in unbroken

rows the passages between, there were no open windows, no carpets

swung from latticed balconies; no buyers moved up the roofed-over

Street of Bazaars. Not in all the range of the old man's vision was to

be seen a living human being. For the chief city of the Philistine

country Ascalon was nerveless and still. At times immense and

ponderous creaking sounded in the distance, as if a great rusted crane

swung in the wind. Again there were distant, voluminous flutterings,

as if neglected and loosened sails flapped. Idle roaming donkeys

brayed and a dog shut up and forgotten in a compound barked

incessantly. Presently there came faint, far-off, failing cries that

faded into silence. The Jew's brow contracted but he did not move.