Immediately the slave brought napkins; and after laving their hands and drying them, the three seated themselves in Eastern style under the tent which years before had served the Wise Men at the meeting in the Desert. And they ate heartily of the good things taken from the camel’s pack.
CHAPTER III
The tent was cosily pitched beneath a tree where the gurgle of the stream was constantly in ear. Overhead the broad leaves hung motionless on their stems; the delicate reed-stalks off in the pearly haze stood up arrowy-straight; occasionally a home-returning bee shot humming athwart the shade, and a partridge creeping from the sedge drank, whistled to his mate, and ran away. The restfulness of the vale, the freshness of the air, the garden beauty, the Sabbath stillness, seemed to have affected the spirits of the elder Egyptian; his voice, gestures, and whole manner were unusually gentle; and often as he bent his eyes upon Ben-Hur conversing with Iras, they softened with pity.
“When we overtook you, son of Hur,” he said, at the conclusion of the repast, “it seemed your face was also turned towards Jerusalem. May I ask, without offence, if you are going so far?”
“I am going to the Holy City.”
“For the great need I have to spare myself prolonged toil, I will further ask you, Is there a shorter road than that by Rabbath-Ammon?”
“A rougher route, but shorter, lies by Gerasa and Rabbath-Gilead. It is the one I design taking.”
“I am impatient,” said Balthasar. “Latterly my sleep has been visited by dreams—or rather by the same dream in repetition. A voice—it is nothing more—comes and tells me, ‘Haste—arise! He whom thou hast so long awaited is at hand.’”
“You mean he that is to be King of the Jews?” Ben-Hur asked, gazing at the Egyptian in wonder.
“Even so.”