The Big Fisherman by Lloyd C. Douglas Read Free Book Online

breakfast this morning, my dear. This is a fast day.'
    'All day?' Arnon's eyes widened incredulously.
    'Until evening. Then there will be a bountiful feast. You are not expected to do any fasting, but we will want you to attend the banquet.'
    Arnon sat up in bed, pushed her tousled black hair out of her eyes, and inquired what this fast was about.
    'It is the Day of Atonement,' explained Mariamne. 'Of all our special occasions this one means the most. It really begins the day before, with all the faithful Jews going about making things right with one another—doing neglected duties, paying their debts, returning things borrowed, and asking forgiveness for wrongs done and hot words spoken. Damaged friendships are mended, estrangements are cleared up. And then today—with clean hands and a right spirit—everyone brings a gift to the Temple and receives a blessing.'
    Arnon's eyes shone.
    'It is very beautiful!' she whispered. 'May I do it, too? It would be a relief—to go to the Temple and be blessed.' She bowed her head dejectedly. 'My heart has been so bitter.' Slowly she raised tear-filled eyes. 'Your Majesty, I have been very unhappy.'
    Mariamne slipped an arm around her compassionately.
    'Arnon, dear, would you like to call me "mother" instead of "Your Majesty"? Don't do it if—if it takes an effort,' she added, 'but it would please me.'
    With that, Arnon's tears overflowed and she sobbed like a little child.
    'I should like to,' she murmured brokenly. 'You have been so good to me. I want you to be my mother. That's the way I think of you.'
    Mariamne drew her closer.
    'Tell me, Arnon,' she said softly, 'has the Prince been unkind to you?'
    Arnon indecisively shook her head, but the pent-up tears ran unchecked. When she could speak she said, 'No; he has not mistreated me—mother. I see very little of him, you know. But the Prince is a busy man. He can't be spending all his time entertaining me.'
    'Men are always busy, my dear.' The Queen's usually placid voice showed a trace of asperity. 'There are the games at Gath and a new Greek play at Askelon—and other important engagements.' She paused for a moment. Dropping her tone of raillery, she went on, 'Our Antipas is really a sweet boy. He wouldn't intentionally hurt a fly. But he is selfish and spoiled. How could it be otherwise? Too much money; too much leisure.'
    'And too many people wanting to win his favour,' added Arnon.
    'Sometimes I have thought,' said Mariamne soberly, 'that a baby Prince should be left on the doorstep of an honest, frugal, hard-working family and brought up as their son until he is about—'
    'Twenty?' suggested Arnon, when the Queen had seemed at a loss for the right figure.
    'Forty!' amended Mariamne. 'Then he should be brought to the throne, knowing what his people need. As it stands, there is nobody in the kingdom quite so ignorant of his duties as the ruler himself. He lives in a different world.' After an interval of silence she asked, abruptly, 'Is anything else wrong, dear?'
    'Almost everything,' confessed Arnon. 'Everything but you! It may be my own fault. I cannot be myself here. In my own country I am happy and free. I love to ride. The shepherds wave a hand and smile as I pass by and I wave my hand and smile too. We are friends. Their wives and daughters weave gay scarves for me and I visit them when they are sick. Often I stop at their tents and play with the little children.'
    'That is as it should be,' approved Mariamne. 'And they are not in awe of you, as the King's daughter?'
    'They call me "Princess," but when we play they do not throw the game away to humour me. Maybe that is what ails a royal family: they are allowed to win all the games. . . . Here in Jerusalem I am a Princess; always, every hour, a Princess. I am unused to these stiff ceremonies—people bowing worshipfully—and backing out of the room. I have to change my costumes half a dozen times a day, and none of them is comfortable. Everything is strange—and I am