"
By the assistance of some rudely constructed machinery, the
heavily laden basket was now carefully lowered down among the
multitude; and, from the giddy pinnacle, the Romans were seen
gathering confusedly round it; but owing to the vast height and the
prevalence of a fog, no distinct view of their operations could be
obtained.
Half an hour had already elapsed.
"We shall be too late!" sighed the Pharisee, as at the expiration of
this period, he looked over into the abyss- "we shall be too late! we
shall be turned out of office by the Katholim."
"No more," responded Abel-Phittim,- "no more shall we feast upon
the fat of the land- no longer shall our beards be odorous with
frankincense- our loins girded up with fine linen from the Temple."
"Raca!" swore Ben-Levi, "Raca! do they mean to defraud us of the
purchase money? or, Holy Moses! are they weighing the shekels of the
tabernacle?
"They have given the signal at last!" cried the Pharisee- "they
have given the signal at last!- pull away, Abel-Phittim!- and thou,
Buzi-Ben-Levi, pull away!- for verily the Philistines have either
still hold upon the basket, or the Lord hath softened their hearts to
place therein a beast of good weight!" And the Gizbarim pulled away,
while their burthen swung heavily upwards through the still increasing
mist.
"Booshoh he!"- as, at the conclusion of an hour, some object at the
extremity of the rope became indistinctly visible- "Booshoh he!" was
the exclamation which burst from the lips of Ben-Levi.
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