Together they sought the house of Elkiah. The outer door being ajar they entered the court without announcement, and without being observed by the actors in a scene at the moment transpiring. Dion would have advanced, but Agathocles laid his hand upon his arm and detained him.
The fountain statue of Aphrodite had been removed. The water shot up as of old in a thin shaft, and fell in spray upon the surface of the broad lower basin, glistening like the dust of gold in the morning sunshine. Beside the fountain in a great chair sat Gideon ben Sirach. Deborah was with him. The old man's eyes seemed enchanted by the play of the sparkling water. He extended his hands and clutched as if to hold the warmth of the sun that fell upon them. His features were drawn out of shape by the palsy. Dion thought of a house from which the occupant is about to remove, its furniture displaced, much of it already gone; for Sirach's face was empty of the old expression of his soul. It was evident that much of the meaning of his life, the furniture of his mind, had been removed even from his memory. Deborah sat upon a little bench, where Sirach's feet also rested. She took his withered hands, and rubbed them as if to impart to them some of her own vitality.
"You can hear to-day, Gideon?"
His eyes turned toward her, but his features were as immobile as a death-mask.
"You have no pain, Gideon? And God's own peace is with you? Yes, I can read it in your eyes. Judas is now lord of Jerusalem; do you understand? He bids me say that your master's property shall be sacredly kept until its rightful owner comes home. He and I will seek him. You hear, and understand? Gideon, you are an old man, and near to the life of the blessed. Let me put your hands upon my head, that the daughter of Elkiah may have the blessing of her father's friend. Here, by this very fountain, my father and your master have often sat in the years that are gone."
She bowed her head, and lifted Sirach's thin white fingers to her black hair. So white were they that they seemed like points of light, radiating the blessing they would impart.
Agathocles whispered to Dion: "Come away! This is no place for a stranger."
They walked far down the street before either of them spoke. At length Dion awoke his father from his reverie.
"You have seen her, father."
"There was never but one fairer woman," replied Agathocles. "Dion, with such a woman to love you, I could leave you willingly in Jerusalem or in the desert. Does she give you her favor? If so, here abide. If she will not love you, Dion, flee; flee with me—to the wars, over the seas, anywhere; and pray that the gods give you every day a drink from Lethe's waters of forgetfulness. That woman, my boy, will fill a man's heart or break it. Does she love you?"