Devil's Island Read Online Free PDF

lump the size of a plum rose in his throat as he looked at his son.
    â€œYou worry too much, friend,” John said.
    â€œThere is much to worry about these days. Much to worry about.”
    â€œLife is full of concerns.” John glanced in the direction of the Roman warships, almost ghostlike in their faint visibility.
    Did he look at them deliberately? Abraham wondered. Does the Apostle know the emperor is after him?
    â€œBut is the God we serve not bigger than all of your worries?” John asked.
    Abraham gripped the Apostle’s arm silently, then turned and walked quickly down the ramp. A crewman immediately moved the plank, and the captain gave the order to push away from the dock. The sleek ship began to move quietly out of the harbor as dawn arrived to burn away the mist.
    Abraham watched the Mercury depart, softly quoting words from a favorite psalm:
    Those who go down to the sea in ships, Who do business on great waters,
They see the works of the Lord, And His wonders in the deep.
    Rebecca waited in the atrium for her mother, whom she often accompanied on calls to the sick or needy members of the congregation. Sunlight filtered into the open portion of the main entry to the villa, warming the colorful mosaic floor tiles.
    Standing in front of a niche in the wall, Rebecca studied the scroll displayed there. When her father built the villa, so the story went, he had been furious at the architect for designing the elaborate alcove as a focal point in the wall—“a perfect place for the lararium ,” the man had said. Every Roman home had its altar where the lares, the household gods, were displayed and daily prayers and offerings made. Abraham had been so angry at the unrequested innovation that he had almost made the architect tear the wall out and start over. Instead, he had left it intact and placed a beautifully copied scroll in the niche. The scroll contained the book of Joshua, and it had been opened to the passage that read, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
    The front door opened and Rebecca turned as footsteps sounded on the tile. “Father!”
    â€œIs your mother up?” he asked.
    â€œOf course. She’s filling a basket with food for our visit to Africanus’s widow.” Rebecca was quite surprised by her father’s unexpected appearance. He never returned from the harbor before midafternoon, and it was still early in the morning.
    â€œGet her for me, please.”
    Rebecca started to leave, then decided to ask the question that had been burning in her heart. She so seldom saw her father alone that she could not pass up the opportunity. “Father, have you spoken to Galen about me—about marriage, I mean?”
    â€œThis is not the time to get into that,” he said curtly. “I have far more important things on my mind.”
    She was wounded by his tone but did not think she could live without an answer, so she persisted. “But you haven’t promised me to anyone else . . . have you, Father?”
    â€œWhat—? No.”
    Rebecca exhaled slowly, relief washing over her. She had been fairly certain that Naomi was only teasing, but she was never quite sure how to take her sister.
    â€œI’ll speak to Galen soon,” Abraham said, his voice softening. “Now go find your mother.”
    She ran swiftly toward the kitchen and returned in a moment with her mother.
    Her parents went upstairs to talk, and when Rebecca grew tired of waiting, she went up to her bedroom. She could hear voices coming from the bedroom next door but could not make out what they were saying. It must have something to do with Jacob and the Apostle, she surmised, since her father had returned immediately after seeing them off.
    After a few minutes her mother began to sob. Rebecca grew more frightened with every minute that passed. Elizabeth was tenderhearted and cried easily, but Rebecca had never heard such plaintive weeping.