She bounded up two stairways in hot haste, and the others soon followed. Rebecca would fain have been spared the sight, but something seemed to draw her.
There is frequently an indescribable fascination in beholding just that which one does not wish to behold.
“It is a proud day for thy son, O Benoni!” quoth the Rabbi.
“Yea, my brother; Saulus directs all this matter as seemeth him good.”
They had not long to wait.
From the distance, fierce cries, cheers, and curses echoed above the general hum of voices; and soon a black mass of moving figures surged slowly along one of the narrow streets that led into the square. Near the front was the untiring figure of Saulus, directing the movement of the throng. His eyes flashed, his step was firm, and his air that of a military conqueror returning from a victorious campaign.
When the motley crowd came near, the little group ranged themselves along the parapet that they might observe every feature of the procession. From their vantage-ground, it was easy to study every face, as it passed directly in front.
The venerable Abdiel waved his hands with satisfac[pg 232]tion, and blessed the God of Israel; and Saulus, looking up, proudly returned the salutation.
Near the head of the line of prisoners was a tall, dignified young man of noble presence and calm features, whose bearing and costume marked him as one of the most notable among them. Rebecca saw him, and instinctively exclaimed,—
“It is he!”