The voice aroused Caleb. His movement and the quick grasp of his sister's hand brought Deborah fully back from her dream. She pressed her eyes, if possible to press out any mere illusion; but the figure of Saul was still there.
He repeated his question, "Why are you here, children?"
Kindly he gave a hand to the startled girl. She grasped it, partly to discover whether it were real or a phantom; partly because she was so weak in flesh and will that she would have grasped any human hand that did not strike her or wear the mail of the hated Greek. She rose to her feet. The stranger started as if he, too, were uncertain whether this were not an apparition; for Deborah was not a child, as her face asleep had betokened, but now a woman. Into her youthful features the sharp suffering of a few days had put those lines which ordinarily come only of mature years and slow corroding care. Her black eyes had sunken deeper into their sockets. Their gleam seemed to be a reflection from some inner mirror of the soul, rather than a direct outlook,—that resilience of intense introspection which martyrs have in their eyes when they gaze upon those who have come to see them die.
The stranger's manner became that of reverential sympathy.
"My good woman, how came you here? And who are you? Where is your home?"
Deborah's uncertainty as to her own identity was at that moment nearly as great as that of her inquirer. She gazed intently into his face until she could assure herself that she was waking.
"My home, sir, is nowhere and everywhere. When the nest is destroyed the birds' home is on any tree or rock, and God provides for them. Such is our only refuge. I am a daughter of Jerusalem. We are children of Elkiah, son of Reuben."
"Then the news I have heard is true," exclaimed the man excitedly. "God of Israel, avenge thy murdered saints!"
The face of the stranger underwent a contortion that transformed it. Had Deborah seen this aspect first she had not dared to trust the man; so wrathful, so cruel he looked. But instantly his expression reverted to kindliness. There came into it a wonderful benignity. His eye was as clear a fountain of honesty and affection as the sun is of light. Every lineament also spoke of courage that matched the tremendous strength which his stalwart frame and protruding muscles displayed.
Deborah briefly narrated the events of recent hours.