At his second step he faltered. Silence dropped upon the blazing plain of Damascus—silence so sudden, so absolute that his footfall startled him. He saw that the movement of Saul's party had been arrested. Arm lifted, or foot put forward, stayed in the attitude. The utter stillness seized them as a commanding hand. Then all the noon grew dim, not from the abatement of the sun's light, but by the coming of a radiance infinitely brighter. Descending from above, instantly intensifying as if the source that shed it approached as fast as stars move, a single ray, purer than the glitter on Mount Hermon, and more inscrutable than the face of the Syrian sun, stood among them.
Its presence was not violent but all-compelling. The group at the pool fell down in the dust and lay still.
Silence such as never before and never again lay on the plain of Damascus, brooded about them.
Out of it a single voice issued, low, trembling, filled with fear and reverence. It was Saul of Tarsus, speaking:
"Who art Thou, Lord?"
Presently he spoke again, eagerly, humbly, and still afraid:
"Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"
[Illustration: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" (missing from book)]
After a long time, the hot breeze made a whispering sound in the sand of the roadway; the leaves in the hedge at hand stirred and fluttered. Joel, the boldest of the Levites, cautiously raised his head, and presently got upon his feet. His fellows, taking heart, rose, one by one.
A young stranger in the robes of an Essene was kneeling among them with large dark eyes fixed in pity upon Saul.