Micah stood dumb before this fierce torrent of words. Was this the gentle Hannah of his youth? There must be some mighty influence that could change the lamb into the lioness.
She went on, in a gentler voice, “You are not angry with me, brother?”
“Surely not.”
“I must go, for my husband will be waiting for the evening meal. Come, children,” she went on, speaking to two little girls who had been clinging to their mother’s cloak, gazing open-eyed and half-terrified at this strange kinsman.
“And are these my nieces?”
“Yes; Miriam and Judith,” answered Hannah, pointing first to one and then to the other. “This, children, is your dear uncle, Micah.”
The young man stooped and kissed the children.
“You will not let it be so long before we see you again?” said Hannah.
His answer was to wring her hand, and turn away. Her words had pricked him to the heart, and he did not know whether to thank her or be angry.
We must now turn to another group which had also been drawn to the walls by the report of the marvellous sights that were to be seen in the heavens. A group it was that would have attracted attention anywhere, so remarkable were the contrasts and the resemblances which it presented.