“It’s the news runner!” said the patriarch.
“Shall we signal him?” she questioned.
“No, daughter, we will meet him yonder, where the two great streets cross. He will await me.”
When the father and daughter arrived, a crowd had already gathered about the horseman. Some pressed him for news, but he looked straight ahead at his horse, now slaking its thirst, and merely snapped out, “News? My beast is thirsty!”
When Harrimai drew near the rider saluted him and at once unfolded his budget: “Father, I’m this day from Bozrah. Its ruins are not ruined. All around there, and from there to here, the herds sleep in the shade, and the carrion birds that have so long been hovering around us for human food have fled back to Egypt and Europe and Hades!”
“Praised be the Father of Israel! I shall live then, as I prayed I might, to see the infidels slung out of our holy places!” So spoke the priest, and as he affectionately embraced some aged Israelites who gathered about him, the horseman responded:
“God reigns and Israel has peace.” He put spurs to his horse then, and dashed away across the river to spread to other hamlets the glorious news.
Next morning Rizpah, having carried her point, was ready to depart for Bozrah. She had taken silence on her father’s part for consent, and pursued her preparations as if it were so ordered. All things being ready she silenced protest by a good-by kiss.
“But daughter! What escort?”