"Yes, my lord," I said.
"And has he written from Caesarea?"
"Only the news I've told you, my lord. I spoke with the Rabbi this morning."
Silence. I waited. Finally, I said,
"My lord, what is it you want to know?"
"Simply this," he said. "Whether or not Jason has heard from my grandson, Reuben. Whether or not Jason speaks of my grandson, Reuben. I will not humble myself to ask that wretch such a question, but you I ask in confidence under my roof, here in my house. Does that miserable Greek wanderer speak of my grandson, Reuben?"
"No, my lord. I know they were friends. That's all I know."
"And my grandson could be married this day in Rome or in Antioch or wherever he is, married to a foreign woman, and this to spite me." He bowed his head. His demeanor changed. He seemed to have forgotten I was there, or not to care who I was, had he ever cared. "I brought this on myself," he said. "I did this to myself, put the sea between him and me, put the world between me and the woman he marries and the fruit of her womb, I did this."
I waited.
He turned and looked at me as if waking from a dream.
"And you are going to speak to me of this poor girl, this child, Avigail, whom the bandits pulled off her feet, whom the bandits so brutally frightened."
"Yes, my lord," I said.
"Why? Why come here to me with this, and why you, what do you want me to do about it?" he asked. "Do you think I'm not heartsick for the girl? Pity the man who has a daughter that beautiful, with such a ringing laugh, with such a lovely gift for song and words. I watched her grow up on the road between here and the Temple. Well, what is it, what do you want from me!"
"I'm sorry, my lord, to cause you grief - ."
"Stop it, go on. Why are you here, Yeshua, the Sinless!"
"My lord, the girl is dying in her house. She takes no food and nothing to drink. And the girl is unharmed, except for the insult to her and to her father."
"The fool," he said disgustedly. "Sent for the midwife for his own daughter! Refusing the word of his own daughter!"
I waited.
"Do you know why my son left for Rome, Yeshua bar Joseph? Did that madman Jason tell you?"
"No, my lord. It's never been mentioned."
"Well, you knew that he left."
"I did, but not why," I explained.
"Because he wanted to marry," said the old man. His eyes glittered as he turned to look away. "He wanted to marry, and not into the Jerusalem family to which I had pointed my finger, but a village girl, a lovely little village girl. Avigail."
I lowered my eyes, and I sat still. Again I waited.
"You didn't know this?"
"No, my lord. No one told me," I said. "Perhaps no one knows."
"Oh, they all know," he said. "Jacimus knows."
"Hmmmm, does he?"
"Yes, indeed he does and he knew at the time, and my grandson, on his own, without my blessing, went calling on Shemayah, and that girl no more than thirteen at the time," he said excitedly. He turned this way and that, eyes roving. "And I, I said no, you will not, you will not marry such a young child, not now, and not from Nazareth, I don't care that her father is rich, that her mother was rich, that she's rich. I don't care, you will marry the girl of my choosing of your kindred in Jerusalem. And now this happens! And you come to me about it."
Again his eyes settled on me and he seemed to see me for the first time. I merely looked at him.