“Doth he not make thee feel as if thou wert standing up on tiptoe all inside, Rachel?” she demanded. “Some day he is going to learn to read and write and become learned in the Law, as was his father, and go about the country teaching and prophesying.”
Rachel put a hand to her head. “Let us go home,” she said, “I feel weak and ill. Peradventure it is the summer heat which hath come on so suddenly.” She staggered to her feet.
Miriam, at once all sympathy, put an arm around her friend’s waist and they took the steep path out of the gorge, the pigeons still circling around the empty basket. Only once did the smaller maid speak and that was just as they came opposite the hiding place of the two strangers.
“Thou knowest, Rachel, that Eli’s tale was a true one, being of our own prophet’s cave here in this very glen, thirty paces beyond the fallen sycamore tree, its mouth hidden by the sumac bushes. Thou wilt remember how oft we have been there.”
Rachel murmured an assent and they moved out of sight and hearing. The young men rose from their cramped positions.
“The very place, Lemuel, thanks to our small friend, though she knew not whom she was befriending. This night shall we abide there and mark the spot for future need. This is a rich little valley. To-morrow we separate, each taking the way determined aforetime,” and with swift steps they proceeded in the direction Miriam had indicated.
The perfumed breath of May lost its elusive sweetness and became burdened with the heat of June. The evening meal was over and the last faint radiance of sunset was swallowed up in darkness. Caleb closed and barred the heavy door against the summer breezes and the family spread their sleeping mats in preparation for rest.
Judith yawned audibly. “So glad am I that this tiresome day hath drawn to a close.”
Miriam was scandalized. “Glad that the Sabbath is over? And soon after sunrise one of the Sons of the Prophet came to instruct the city in the ways of Jehovah.”