The roaring protests of Shemayah were drowned out by the women. Isaac and Yaqim and Silent Hannah tried to get into the house but they couldn't get in. It was too filled with the women.
And it was the women who put the door back up on its pivots and closed it against us.
We went into our own courtyard, and James let go with words.
"Is he mad?" I demanded.
"Don't be such a fool," said my uncle Cleopas. "The bandit ripped off her veil."
"What is her veil?" demanded James. Isaac and Yaqim came to us crying. "What in the name of the Lord does it matter that he took her veil?"
"He's an old and stupid man," said Cleopas. "I don't defend him. I'm only answering you because it seems someone has to answer you."
"We saved her," Isaac said to his father, wiping at his tears.
James kissed his son's head and held him close. "You did well, all of you," he said. "Yaqim, you, and you," he pointed to the little boys who hovered in the street. "Come inside now."
It was a full hour before my mother came in with Aunt Esther and Aunt Salome.
Aunt Salome was furious.
"He's sent for the midwife."
"How can he do such a thing!" cried James. "The whole village saw this. Nothing happened. The man was forced to let her go."
My mother sat crying by the brazier.
There was shouting from the street, mostly the voices of women. Yaqim and Isaac ran out before anyone could stop them.
I didn't move.
Finally Old Bruria came in. "The midwife has come and gone," she said. "Let it be known to all this house and every house, and every lout and bully and no-count in this village who wants to know it, and fret about it, and gossip about it, the girl is unharmed."
"Well, that's hardly a surprise," said Aunt Esther. "And you left her alone with him?"
Old Bruria made a gesture as if to say she could do no more, and she went off to her room.
Silent Hannah who had seen everything got up quietly and slipped out the door.
I wanted to follow. I wanted to see whether or not Shemayah would let her in. But I didn't do this. Only my mother followed and came back moments later and nodded and so it was over for now.
At noon, Shemayah and his field hands rode out into the hills. Inside his house, his two maidservants remained with Avigail and with Silent Hannah, bolting the door behind him as he told them to do.
We knew he wouldn't find the bandits. We prayed he wouldn't find the bandits. He didn't know what to do against men armed with daggers and swords. And the ragged bunch he'd taken with him were only the older men and the weaker men, the men who hadn't gone off to Caesarea to take a stand.
Sometime during the early evening, Shemayah returned. We heard the noise of the horses, not a common sound in our street.
My mother and aunts went to his door and begged to see Avigail. He wouldn't answer.
All the next day no one came or went from the house of Shemayah. His field hands gathered, then wandered off without directions.
It was the same the following day.
Meanwhile, news came in every few hours from Caesarea.
And on the third day after the attack of the bandits, we had a long letter in Jason's hand, read out in the synagogue, that the crowd was peaceably assembled before the Governor's palace and would not be moved.
This gave comfort to the Rabbi and comfort to many of the rest of us. Though some simply wondered what the Governor would do if this crowd did not go away.