"Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord," he cried.
Amer found his way to the front of the crowd in the masterful manner that was natural to him, his satellites surrounding him on every side.
And then began a volley of mocking questions and raillery, led by Amer and his companions, and aided by the lighter spirits among those present. Some of the questions the herald answered quietly and patiently, others he answered not at all, but stood and looked at the young men with sorrow and deep compassion written across his face. At last seeing that the people were demoralized by this band of intruders, he turned quietly away, saying in a solemn voice that rang loud and clear above the noise of the crowd—
"Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord."
Slowly the crowd broke up, and Amer's friends parted from him with laughter and congratulations as to the success of his banquet, leaving him at last to find his way home alone.
"Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord."
The words rang in the lad's head. The feast, his companions, the fun, all forgotten: the words, together with the gentle sternness of the face of the herald, alone filling his mind.
"Ah!" he cried, "It is the Voice again. I hoped it was stifled! I will not listen."
But the words would not leave him alone.
Amer had heard them the day before, from the lips of the herald, who had looked him straight in the face with his penetrating eyes, and they had cast a strange kind of spell over him. He had hoped that his coming of age feast would have dispelled the remembrance of them, but even in the middle of the speech, with which he had taken such pains, the Voice had been heard, causing him to stammer and forget what he had intended to say.