Miriam wrung her hands and wept, but Nathan spoke defiantly, with passion in his tones: “Thou knowest not that we of Israel, especially we of the tribe of Zebulon, fight long and hard, jeoparding our lives unto the death.”
An evil smile distorted the man’s features. “Thinkest thou we know not that thy men are away at the feast in Jerusalem? To-morrow this time thy land shall be desolate from Jerusalem northward, and we will take captive thy flocks and thy herds—”
The speaker was interrupted by the arrival of another soldier, dressed much the same, but the more elaborate ornamentation of his shield, and his richly decorated helmet with its crest, denoted a higher rank. All this, however, was quite lost upon Nathan and Miriam. They noted only that he was very young—older than Eli, perhaps, but doubtless younger than Benjamin—that he bent upon them a look not in the least malevolent, as was that of their captor, and that when he spoke to them, also in their own tongue, his speech was as free from foreign accent as their own. Apparently, he had authority, for at a word, the first soldier withdrew.
“I happened to overhear,” he told the children. “Fear not nor believe what Lemuel hath said. He was but teasing thee. Our men went no farther south than the Valley of Jezreel, which is a long way north of Jerusalem, and we have not come to make war upon the people but only to take foodstuffs.”
The two gazed at him doubtfully. “Peradventure,” sobbed Miriam, “when thou art asleep the other soldier will do these terrible things.”
The young man laughed, a mirthful laugh. “Lemuel? Nay, he could not. We have but a few men and,” with some little pride, “I have been given charge of this band.”
He glanced at the rapidly declining sun and his next words were more decisive. “See, it is almost sunset. We did not come to take prisoners, but thou wilt understand that I cannot let thee go home to give the alarm, and afterward thou wilt prefer Syria to Israel.”
Miriam was distressed anew.
The young captain reasoned gently: “To-night thy household will think thou art with friends somewhere, but they cannot seek thee in the darkness, among the half-wild, scavenger dogs that roam thy villages at night. By dawn they will have other matters to engage their attention. Thou wilt go with me now to our encampment in the gorge by the spring. Come,” to Miriam, “thou shalt have a corner of the prophet’s cave all to thyself to-night with a leopard’s skin for a covering. Thou wilt like that, for it was given me by the best man I ever knew, a shepherd of Israel. And thou,” turning to Nathan, “shalt have the opposite corner, but I have only one leopard skin and that is for the little maid.”
There was something very attractive, very sincere in his address. He seemed to understand their terror, their distrust.