The camp had been formed under the shade of a clump of terebinth and acacias close to a spring of clear water which made the grass around it a vivid green, in pleasant contrast to the dry, withered herbage in the open.
The men had dug out tree roots for fuel, and a red fire glowed a few yards away from Spence's tent.
A group of silent figures sat round the fire. Now and then a low murmur of talk sounded for a minute and then died away again. A slight breeze, cool and keen, rustled in the trees overhead. Save for that, and the occasional movement of one of the hobbled horses, no sound broke the stillness of the glorious night.
It was here, so Spence thought, that the Lord must have walked with His disciples on the journey between Jerusalem and Nazareth.
On such a night as this the little group may have sat in the vale of El Makhna in quiet talk at supper-time.
The same stars looked down on him as they did on those others two thousand years ago. How real and true it all seemed here! How much easier it was to realise and believe than in Chancery Lane!
Why did men live in cities?
Was it not better far for the soul's health to be here alone with God?
Here, and in such places as these, God spoke clear and loud to the hearts of men. He shuddered as the thought of his own lack of faith came back to him.
In rapid review he saw the recent time of his hopelessness and shame. How utterly he had fallen to pieces! It was difficult to understand the pit into which he was falling so easily when Basil had come to him.