"I have brought to your protection this kinswoman, the daughter of Elkiah of Jerusalem. My father bids me deliver her to your hands, in token of the peace that shall ever be between us," replied the young Sheikh.
"Elkiah's daughter? Deborah? Child of Miriam who was the child of Leah, our mother's sister?"
"I am Miriam's child," said the fugitive.
"I see it. I see it," replied Ben Aaron, pressing the black locks back from her face. "And but that Elkiah was richer than I, thou mightest have been my daughter; and such thou shalt be now, for I see there is need. Come, Nadan, you must break bread with me."
"My father's command is that I do not loiter," replied the Arab. "Night is shutting in the way, and I must be upon the high-road quickly, or even my Emir's eyes will not find it."
"Then the Lord go with thee! And Jotham and Joshua shall see you safely down to the seashore."
"It is not necessary."
"True, not for thee, but for Ben Aaron's hospitality. My love to the noble Yusef! and my thanks for this new mark of his goodness in giving me my kinswoman."
The two men salaamed to the ground. Nadan lifted the hand of Deborah to his lips. He looked into her face as if he would have its fair features stamped upon his soul, as a seal makes its impression on wax.
Her returning glance, and the warmth of her gratitude, though expressed in briefest sentence, "I thank you, good Nadan," sent him away with something else than a warrior's pride in his heart.