"It is not so pleasant as this, though," she thought, "if Manasseh were only here."
Just then the tinkle of a camel-bell was heard,—a strange sound in that secluded spot. Mary looked up, and saw what seemed to be a great many people coming over the hill, camels bearing shugdufs, too, and pack-mules, heavily laden.
Trembling, she rushed into the house.
"Oh, mother, what means this? See the people! Manasseh would not bring all of those with him?"
The mother shaded her eyes with her hand, and looked forth, anxiously.
Nearer and nearer came the train. Who were they? Not Manasseh; Manasseh would not come so slowly. Can it be? Not Yusuf! Not Amzi! Yes, yes! O joy! It is they!—and many other familiar faces smile also from the train!
"Is Manasseh well?"
"Yes, Manasseh is well, and happy."
So questions were asked and answered in joyful confusion; and Nathan came in from the hills to bid the travelers welcome. Then the dusty, travel-stained tents were pitched once more, this time on a grassy slope by the rippling Jordan. A simple repast was spread, and the company dined in royal state.
With what surprise did Nathan and his household greet the wife of Asru and her sweet-faced daughter as sisters in Christ, and with what sympathy did they hear of Asru's sad death!