"But Eli—" Ezra began in his shrill little voice, when the old shepherd cut him short with a sudden gesture.
"The men return," muttered Eli. "Once already to-night they have heard what they term 'an old man's babbling.' Let us listen to their story now."
"How many thieves caught ye, friends?" he called out. "Did ye surprise the enemy in his lair?"
The shepherds filed in through the narrow opening and threw themselves heavily on the ground beside Eli and the lad. The dogs crouched low, with nose between paws, and closed their eyes.
"Thieves? Nay," said one of the shepherds brusquely. "We saw naught amiss, and had but the walk for our pains."
The shepherds wrapped their heavy woolen mantles about them and talked together in low voices. No one seemed disposed to sleep, though the day's work had been hard and all needed a night's rest. Ezra sat silent, thinking of old Eli's words and scarce hearing the conversation that went on about him.
Suddenly the old shepherd grasped Ezra's arm. One of the younger men was speaking.
"The night has grown so still," said he. "Note ye that the wind dies down and that a hush falls o'er all?"
His voice ended on a trembling note. He covered his face with his mantle and fell forward among his prostrate companions. Only old Eli, with his arm about shaking little Ezra, held his white head erect—joyous, confident, trustful.
For an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.