Old Nathan nodded his head solemnly and muttered in his beard.
"Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth is Mount Zion," responded the pious old Jew. But Naomi was half-way down the hill and did not hear one word.
There before her at the crossroads stood the old khan, with its great wall of stone and its stout gate behind which all night long sat a watchman on the alert. Below the inn lay the very fields among which Ruth, long, long ago, had gleaned the golden corn, and where later King David as a shepherd lad had tended his flock.
Naomi slipped through the open gate into the courtyard of the khan and stood for a moment watching the bustle and confusion of the scene before her. In the center of the court was the fountain, and round it now crowded the pilgrims and travelers, drawing water for the morning meal or in which to wash before eating. The archways which lined the wall formed the rooms of the ancient inn, for the building at the end of the court in which Simon the host and Aunt Miriam lived was not open to strangers. Shelter and food were not provided within. Each man in his little archway must spread his own carpet, light his own brazier, cook his own food, and eat from his own dish. A Syrian khan of that period was not at all like the inns of our day. It was expected to supply nothing but water and straw for a bed. It was a refuge from thieves and wild animals, a shelter from heat and dust, a spot where a trader might sell his wares.
Naomi looked with interest at the patient camels already kneeling to receive their load, perhaps of precious ointment or sweet spices. Here were the merchants spreading their wares: gold work from Cairo; shawls of Tyrian dye, royal purple or scarlet; rich perfumes in their vases of alabaster, large and small. In one corner a group of dogs, snapping and snarling, quarreled over a bone.
A caravan was starting for Egypt, and as the Bethlehem khan was the first night's rest after leaving Zion, many friends of the travelers had come with them from Jerusalem and were now sorrowfully saying their last farewells. Naomi stood watching an old father tenderly kiss his departing son upon either cheek and then lay his hand upon the boy's head in blessing. A little lad, carrying his pet monkey, was lifted to the back of a camel, and Naomi was staring so intently that she did not see the serving-lad Jacob until he was close upon her.
"Thy aunt calls for thee," said he to Naomi. "The cart stands ready loaded and we start as soon as thou hast eaten."
"I would that we were going down into Egypt, Jacob," said Naomi, skipping toward the house as she spoke. "To ride to Jerusalem is nothing. We shall be back to-morrow in this very spot."
"Aye, if the robbers do not catch us," answered Jacob, wagging his head wisely. It was the first time he had been trusted to ride to Jerusalem with a load, and the responsibility weighed heavily upon him.