“I’m the daughter of Rizpah and Sir Charleroy. Did they either of them ever fear?”
“Ah! but I have been the very mother of sorrows, ever since thy birth, child. God knows it; and it were best to leave it all to Him alone.”
“But, mother, I’d gladly share your sorrows. Sorrow shared is ever lightened by the sharing. Let us bear the corpse between us, and in this lonely life we shall be made more than ever companions, through a common grief.”
“So be it then. Thou shalt know all.”
And Rizpah, going to a seldom-used iron-bound chest, drew therefrom a parchment roll; handing the same to her daughter, she said: “Read. It’s part of Father Harrimai’s ‘Kethubim.’” The place opened to the story of the famine in David’s time, which endured three years, because of wrongs done to the Gibeonites by the children of Israel. As Miriamne read onward, Rizpah from time to time gave explanations:
“Dost perceive, daughter, that Jehovah, though not revengeful, is a God of recompenses?”
“He was the friend of the Gibeonites though they were not of his chosen people; because they had no other friend, I think,” said Miriamne.
“Yes, and He held all Israel responsible for what they were willing to let their blood-thirsty Saul perform. As he had been, so had been the people; they were guilty, and God needed to punish them. How just! Oh! God is sure to press men to a conclusion. Read what David said to the stranger Gibeonites;” Miriamne continued:
“And he said, what ye shall say, that will I do for you.
“And they answered the king, the man that consumed us, and that devised against us;