A short walk down an unfrequented road, in the direction of Jericho, took them to a lonely place among the bare cliffs. A little cabin stood close against the rocks, with a great sycamore-tree bending over it. Near by was the entrance to a deep cave, always as cool as a cellar, even in the hottest summer days.
At the mouth of the cave sat Simon the leper. He stood up when he saw them coming, and wrapped himself closely in a white linen mantle that covered him from head to foot. It was a ghostly sight to Jesse; but to Joseph, so long accustomed to it, there seemed nothing strange.
At a safe distance the servant emptied his basket on a large flat rock, and poured the water into a stone jar standing near. Last of all, he laid a piece of parchment on the stone. It was Esther's daily letter to her exiled husband.
No matter what storms swept the valley, or what duties pressed at home, that little missive was always sent. She had learned to write for his sake. By all his friends he was accounted dead; but her love, stronger than death, bridged the gulf that separated them. She lived only to minister to his comfort as best she could.
Simon did not send as long a message in return as this trusted messenger usually carried. He had much to say to his boy, and the sun was already high.
Jesse, lagging behind in the shelter of the rock, heard the tender words of counsel and blessing that came from the white-sheeted figure with a feeling of awe.
As the father urged his boy to be faithful to every little duty, careful in learning the prayers, and above all obedient to his mother, Jesse's conscience began to prick him sorely.
"I believe I know somebody that could cure him," he said, as they picked their way over the rocks, going home. "'Cause He made Joel well."
"Who's Joel?" asked Joseph.