Though her limbs scarcely obeyed her will to rise, Deborah could not rest. She might be too late. This fear suddenly became almost a terrible conviction. There were clattering hoof-beats on the hard roadway. She concealed herself behind the ruined wall of the khan. Two horsemen rode slowly up, pausing upon an adjacent knoll, and inspecting the country far and wide. Their horses were almost hidden beneath their housings of network and tassels. This, however, did not conceal the long and slender limbs and narrow flanks of the beasts, their broad, deep breasts and thick necks, which showed that they were of that thorough breed for the rearing of which the Arabs had already become famous.
The two riders were swarthy, almost black. One was young, his sparse beard fringing and breaking the perfect oval of his face. The other was old, unless the deep lines across his brow, like the valleys and gorges about him, had been made by sudden convulsions, the sharp crises of his life. The youth's eyes were like the fountain beside which they stopped—sparkling, yet calm and fully exposed. The old man's eyes were like the pools which one, standing on the cliffs, sees gleaming far down in the deep gorge of the Kedron, as that stream cuts its way through the mountains of rocks which would bar its progress to the Sea of Salt.
In dismounting the elder man seemed the younger, so quick was his motion in taking the long lance from its rest, and planting it in the ground as the tether post for his steed.
"Neither Jews nor Greeks are concerning themselves with us to-day. That is clear, father," said the younger man.
"It is true, then," said the veteran, "that they are both looking for a battle to the west. Judas' men were only yesterday scouring this part of the country, but they are now withdrawn. That means that the Maccabæan expects another fight with the Greeks speedily, for Judas never calls in his men until he wants them to strike. They are like the fingers on his hand; they turn into a fist only for the blow. We will ride back, Nadan, and advise the camps to move against the Maccabæan to-morrow."
Deborah heard this with consternation. The man was surely Sheikh Yusef, the Arab, the fiercest of the tribesmen of the valley. She must act instantly.
A slight groan attracted the attention of the men. Turning the corner of the ruined wall they detected her crouching form.
"Who is here? By my beard, a woman!"