“I owe thee so much—so much, Eli,” she whispered, contritely.
“He shall not take thee,” repeated the young man, “but I shall go with thee to Damascus to preach the word of Jehovah as we have said, and when the time cometh I will give thee to him if it pleaseth thee.”
Releasing her not urgently he strode away. She stood still for a moment, then she called after him, her voice sweetly compassionate. She begged him to tarry, but he seemed not to hear, and after a little she followed him to the sleeping place of the dead.
It was not a cheerful party which started that day to Syria. Farewell tears were thinly veiled under encouraging smiles. Miriam was so obviously considerate for Eli that Isaac was plunged into the depths of despondency. Eli himself seemed lost in painful reverie. Nathan, obliged to ride the horse Lemuel had not had opportunity to take, loudly bewailed his own better steed, while the soldier-escort, under its breath, cursed the merciless rays of the sun.
Hour after hour they journeyed. Through dim eyes Miriam beheld a fleeting picture of the hilltop villages and scattered groves of her beloved Israel. Here and there they passed other travelers and infrequent beggars. Once, the chariot in which Miriam and her two maid servants were riding came to a sudden halt. Apparently there was some obstruction in the road ahead. A leper, hurrying away, was yet near enough for her to look upon his repulsive countenance. Shuddering, she turned to see if Eli or Nathan had noticed, but they were busy helping the soldiers conceal a loathsome something with a light covering of earth. The leper was Gehazi!
Isaac rode up with an explanatory word. He pointed to the mound: “It is the deserter, Lemuel. Some wild beast hath met him at night while he slept and where there was none to help. The body is gnawed and broken, but there can be no mistake.”
Nathan called excitedly and Isaac responded at once. A little later they returned with Nathan’s own horse, which had broken his halter—doubtless through fright—and roamed at will until reclaimed by his master. For half an hour Miriam listened indulgently to the boy’s enthusiastic recital of the capture and the steed’s wonders, then Nathan took a place in the rear. They descended the hot gorge in which roared the Jordan, crossed its foaming waters, emerged into the freer air of the uplands and so to the main-traveled roads leading north. Nathan was again beside Miriam.
“I have been watching the party for hours,” he declared with a boisterous laugh. “Funny how it rides. The soldiers plod along silently, sometimes jesting or quarreling. Obeying is their business. Never once hath Eli turned his head. Already he seeth himself a prophet of the Lord in the strange land toward which he goeth. But ever Isaac watcheth thee, and always thine eyes are turned toward Eli.”
As they resumed their journey after the noon-time rest it was Isaac who rode beside the chariot. He put into her hands a piece of sheepskin, folded protectingly over something evidently very precious.