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Updated: June 29, 2025
"I forbid you touching her. Rise, and get you gone before any at the well see you here. Nay, I forgot it is too late! You must remain now and share our doom. Rise, I say!" Amrah rose to her knees, and said, brokenly and with clasped hands, "O good mistress! I am not false I am not wicked. I bring you good tidings." "Of Judah?" and as she spoke, the widow half withdrew the cloth from her head.
"There was a time when Jerusalem and all Judea were filled with a story that he was born. I remember it. By this time he should be a man. It must be it is he. Yes," she said to Amrah, "we will go with you. Bring the water which you will find in the tomb in a jar, and set the food for us. We will eat and be gone."
The story of its rightful owners sufficed to secure the property from strangers, whether purchasers or mere occupants. People going to and fro passed it with whispers. Its reputation was that of a haunted house; derived probably from the infrequent glimpses of poor old Amrah, sometimes on the roof, sometimes in a latticed window.
She had nursed him through babyhood, tended him as a child, and could not break the service. To her love he could never be a man. He spoke but once during the meal. "You remember, O my Amrah," he said, "the Messala who used to visit me here days at a time." "I remember him." "He went to Rome some years ago, and is now back. I called upon him to-day." A shudder of disgust seized the lad.
"Mother Tirzah O Amrah, tell me of them! Speak, speak, I pray thee!" Amrah only cried afresh. "Thou has seen them, Amrah. Thou knowest where they are; tell me they are at home." Tirzah moved, but her mother, divining her purpose, caught her and whispered, "Do not go not for life. Unclean, unclean!" Her love was in tyrannical mood.
She discerned, also, that both Amrah and Tirzah the one from confirmed habits of servitude, the other from natural dependency looked to her for guidance; and she accepted the charge. "We will go first to Bethphage," she said to them. "There, if the Lord favor us, we may learn what else to do."
Amrah might hear, and look out of one of the windows on that side. Taking a stone, he mounted the broad stone step, and tapped three times. A dull echo replied. He tried again, louder than before; and again, pausing each time to listen. The silence was mocking. Retiring into the street, he watched the windows; but they, too, were lifeless.
You are lost; and he your master you can never, never go back to him." Amrah grovelled sobbing in the dust. "The ban of the Law is upon you, too; you cannot return to Jerusalem. What will become of us? Who will bring us bread? O wicked, wicked Amrah! We are all, all undone alike!" "Mercy, mercy!" Amrah answered from the ground.
He had given them over as dead, and time had accustomed him to the bereavement; he had not ceased mourning for them, yet, as something distinguishable, they had simply dropped out of his plans and dreams. Scarcely believing his senses, he laid his hand upon the servant's head, and asked, tremulously, "Amrah, Amrah my mother! Tirzah! tell me if I see aright."
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