  Paul, accompanied by young Stephen, is started at about midnight, under strong military escort, for CÆsarea. At the gate of the castle, Shimei, lurking there, is arrested, and brought before the chiliarch, Claudius Lysias by name. A conversation ensues, in which Shimei, for a time with some success, practises on the chiliarch his characteristic arts of deception. At last, the chiliarch, denouncing him for what he is, and putting him under heavy bonds to respond in person, whenever and wherever afterward commanded by the Roman authorities, dismisses him from presence, chagrined and dismayed. SHIMEI AND THE CHILIARCH. eek dependence on his guide,And all the various aged make-believe, Wherewith that subtle master of deceit, That natural, practised, life-long actor, Paul, Will put the guise of old Gamaliel on. 'He-he!' I chuckled to the sentinel, 'To me the spectacle will be as good And laughable, as I should guess a play, A roaring one, of Plautus were to thee!'" Shimei was venturing to let lapse his part Betwixt himself and the dull sentinel— This to let lapse, or, if not quite let lapse, Mix and confound with his own proper part, Inveterate, unassumed, of scoffer free; He saw the chiliarch sink so deep immersed In hearing and in weighing what was said, He deemed he might thenceforward trust his speech, With scant disguise of indirection, aimed As frankly for a keen intelligence— The chiliarch's own, and not the sentinel's— To snare his listener's now less warded wit. Paul was clean gone indeed, gone otherwise Than through the guile that he had dared impute; But he, meantime, would such a chance not miss, A golden chance that might not come again, To prepossess the chiliarch's captive mind With pregnant ill surmise concerning Paul. There yet was unexhausted circumstance Suggestively at hand, seed that but sown Would a fine harvest of suspicion spring. Point-blank his aim shifted to Lysias now, He said: "Why did Gamaliel stay so long? Why so long tarry, wearing out the day? Where is Gamaliel now? What did it mean That that officious Hebrew youngster—he Who, at Paul's wish, Gamaliel hither brought, Who back and forth has flitted through the gate All day, carrying and fetching as he liked— What did it mean, I ask, that he bore in Flagons of wine and loaves of bread? What mean? Why, this, provision got to serve Paul's need, When, issuing in Gamaliel's vesture, he Should shuffle forth, Gamaliel, on the street, To try the fortune of a runaway, A hopeless runaway in CÆsar's world. The clement chiliarch never would be hard On an old dotard of a hundred years, Found aider and abettor in such wile, Where left behind in ward to take his chance; Or, possibly, Gamaliel might not know, Much more, not share, the stratagem of Paul. It would be easy to put him to sleep And strip him of his raiment, unawares, For the exchange, unbargained-for, with Paul. Paul has much travelled everywhere abroad He has the skill of many magic arts, The virtue knows of many a mighty drug; He can compound thee opiate drinks to drown Thy thought and senses in oblivion. He could compose thee in so deep a sleep, Fair like an infant's, that not all the blare Of all Rome's trumpets loud together blown Could rouse thee ever from that fixÉd sleep. A dangerous wicked man to wield such power!" The chiliarch stood suspended in fast gaze On Shimei, not perusing him, but lost In various troubled and confounded thought. 'Had he indeed been tricked? Was Paul such knave? Had that young Hebrew, with his innocent Bright look of truth and faith and nobleness, Had he been hollow, false, base, treacherous, And played upon a Roman father's heart To rid a rascal out of custody? Gamaliel—was that reverend-looking man, That image of a stately-fair old age, Was he a low complotter of deceit? Abused such dignity into a tool, Helpless, unwitting, of ignoble wile?' Thought, question, doubt, suspicion, guess, surmise, Tumbled, a chaos, in the chiliarch's mind. Shimei paused, watching, with delight intense; He felt the chiliarch fast ensnared, his prey. Wary as was his wit, and ill-inclined Ever to take a needless risk, or dip His feet in paths wherein, once entered, he Perforce must fare right forward, no retreat— Though such in temper, such in habit, yet— Either that instant suddenly resolved That his true prudence was temerity, Or trusting his resourceful craft to pluck Desperate advantage from the jaws of chance— Shimei dared interrupt the Roman's muse: "Will not my lord the chiliarch now think well To call Gamaliel into presence here? Well frightened, the old man perhaps might tell What passed in his long interview with Paul, Something to help thee judge betwixt us twain, Which it were well to credit, Paul or me." The chiliarch started from his reverie; "Go bring that Hebrew ancient here," he said. Then neither Jew nor Roman uttered word, Each busy with his own unsharÉd thought, Till the centurion from his quest returned, Alone, and serious, no Gamaliel brought. "I found"—but scarcely the centurion, Faltering, had so essayed to make report, When the wroth chiliarch snatched the word from him: "Was not he there? Did he refuse to come? The more loth he, the more to be required! Gray hair will not atone for stubbornness; Thou shouldst have brought him, though by greater force. Something lurks here lends color to the tale This hoar-head Jew has filled my ear withal. I will Gamaliel see and learn from him—" "But, sir," spoke up the loth centurion, "No |
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