With a sad heart Jael turned from her, yet not without hope. He hastened on, keeping to directions. He saw the willows by the watercourse and heard the murmur of the river. He cleared the marsh. He came to the still pool. He saw the bed of rushes piled by the spring flood against the bleached sycamore. All was as pictured by the Wise Man of the East. Softly he made his way toward the bed of rushes with eyes keenly watching for the serpent When he had come near he stopped. A sore and loathsome hand lay over the top of the bed of rushes. Underneath it two bright sparks suddenly appeared. Looking close Jael saw the head of a serpent and that its body lay concealed under the leaves, yet so like its surroundings was it that it seemed to be but a part of them.
The eye of the serpent was both cunning and evil. Under its first glitter Jael took a backward step. Emboldened by this move the serpent thrust out a barbed and rapidly scintillating tongue. Instinctively the fisherman thrust his fingers against the little tallith, the touch of which aroused in him a mighty passion, for in the face of the serpent he now saw the lust of the Roman who had taken Sara. A swift and terrible wrath swept over him. He drew his knife and with an oath sprang forward. As he did so there was a soft rustling of dead rushes—and the sparks of light and the twinkling tongue were gone and though he did not notice it, the hand resting just above where the venomous head had lain, was trembling violently.
"Lord, I believe!" shouted Jael in trumpet tones. "Help thou mine unbelief!"
The ringing voice broke the stillness sharply. It was an echoing wail that called from behind the rushes, "Unclean! Unclean!"
"Knowest thou not who standeth near thee? Sara, lift up thy head!"
Slowly a head appeared above the bed of rushes. Dark eyes were sunken deep in an emaciated and ashy face. "Jael!" The name was called with great effort in a thin and rasping voice. "Unclean, Jael!"
"Nay, nay, my Sara!" He shouted with a glad voice. "Thou art not unclean! Jesus of Nazareth hath cleansed thee already if in thy heart thou believest thou art clean. He hath bidden me bring thee to him, clean, clean."
"Thou hast come too late!" the wailing voice called back. "Thou canst do nothing for me."
"Nay. Nothing can I do. But he—Jesus of Nazareth—can do all things.
He hath all power on sea and land, in air and sky, in heaven and hell!
There is nothing this wonder worker can not do. Lift up thine arms as
thou wilt lift them before his face when thou comest into his presence.
Clap thy hands! Open thy mouth and shout! Shout, Sara!"
For a moment there was silence only broken by the running water of the Jordan. Then the stillness was again broken by a scream and the one word, "Jael!" The cry came from the bed of rushes and was in strong contrast to the rasping effort of the moment before. "Jael! Jael!" Again the sharp scream.