"How could we be otherwise," the father replied, smiling, "with Jesus with us each hour, each moment? And we know that he 'will never leave nor forsake us.' I think, too, that he is very close to my daughter. Mary, is there anything in this world that could take the place of Jesus to you? Would wealth or honor or any earthly joy make you perfectly happy if you could never pray to Jesus more, never feel him near you as an ever-present Friend, nevermore have the hope of seeing his face?"
Mary clasped her hands, and her face glowed. "Never, oh, never!" she cried. "I would rather be like poor blind Bartimeus begging by the wayside, yet able to call, 'Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!'"
The sun had now set, and the sky had faded with that suddenness common in Eastern lands.
Nathan arose. "Let us now offer up prayer for the safety of Manasseh, and for the steadfastness of the brethren; for we know that where two or three are gathered together in Jesus' name, there is he in the midst of them. Let us pray!"
The three knelt in the dim chamber, with silence about and the evening stars above, and prayed for the lad who, amid very different scenes, was in the heart of the strange revolution. And then they sang the words of that sublime psalm, than which no grander poem was ever written:
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; he that keepeth thee will not slumber.
Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is thy keeper; the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.