But the other witness, with face as white as that of the dying man, had broken through the circle and fled away shrieking towards the city--"My God! my God! they are killing him!"
"Let be, the law is fulfilled. Quick, or he will yet be rescued--the mob is increasing. What is that he is saying?" For the victim, blood-stained, faltering, had dragged himself to his knees.
"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
A shower of stones and fierce yells; he is sinking, but again he speaks. Saul can hear it, for he stands near, guarding the garments of them that are fulfilling the law. They can all hear, for he cries in a loud voice, that his murderers may remember it afterward for the comfort of their guilty souls:
"Lord, lay not this sin to their charge." And when he had said this, he fell asleep.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE WATCHFUL LOVE.
Anat was spinning in the cool shadow of the house; the stones of the little court had been newly washed, and a refreshing odor of cleanliness mingled with the fragrance which poured out from the snowy bells of the lilies beside the cistern. Close to her feet snuggled the three small brown children, listening while she sang. After a time the singer faltered a little; she was chanting the Psalm of the Watchful Love:
"Jehovah is thy keeper,
Jehovah thy abode on thy right hand;
The sun shall not hurt thee by day,
Neither the moon by night."
She paused. What was that deep, dull roar? Her face paled a little.