“Thoughtest thou to escape?” He was regarding her with a kind of cruel exultation. “I have found thee again as I swore I would, and now—”
His hand rested compellingly upon her shoulder. The girl pleaded tremulously: “Is it not enough that thou shouldst have taken me captive in Israel? Yet did the God of my fathers preserve me then and later on the road hither. I shall believe that here in Damascus I shall fare no worse. Thy name, I know, is Lemuel, and there must be some law, some protection for the innocent—”
Despite the bravery of the words her voice faltered. She was weary and heartsick. Had she endured so much only to fall into danger at every step? Her captor had drawn her within an alley-way and in the fast gathering dusk the hurrying pedestrians neither saw nor heard aught amiss. He spoke in a tone of easy confidence, secure in possession, but Rachel heeded not. She was planning escape, yet weighed down by a sense of her own helplessness. With a grip on her arm which made her wince with pain, she felt herself hurried along to an unknown destination.
Emerging upon a less frequented thoroughfare, they unexpectedly encountered two men on horseback, riding slowly and straining their eyes into the night as if in search of something or somebody. The man at Rachel’s side glanced carelessly; again more intently and with a muttered exclamation partially relaxed his hold. That instant’s indecision lost him his prey. With a strength at which she wondered Rachel tore herself out of his grasp and fled, whither she knew not. A few moments had sufficed to change her into a fugitive, afraid of people, afraid of the torches which the few travelers still abroad were compelled to carry. She sought only some dark corner in which to stand panting and then, afraid lest even its kindly shelter be sinister, to hurry to another.
It was in the intense darkness and stillness which precedes the dawn that the girl, utterly exhausted, crouched in the shadow thrown by a large dwelling and fell into a deep sleep. When the world turned gray two men on horseback extinguished their torches and approached the entrance to this abode. The face of one was ashy with fatigue and disappointment. Observing the huddled figure he bent over it and uttered a joyful exclamation, beckoning for the other.
“Our search is ended. While we roamed abroad by night, she whom we sought found her way alone to protection. Quickly, bring food and water and borrow a cloak from one of the maid servants, while I remain here to guard the maiden.”
The voices awakened the sleeper. Startled and confused, Rachel found herself gazing into the face of the very young captain who had commanded the little company of soldiers under whose escort she had been brought from Israel. She recalled to mind the respect with which he had seen to it she was treated; his courtesy the day he had discovered her hiding place, yet fear made her suspicious. She would have fled once more, but before she could rise she noticed the compassion in his look, the deference in his manner. His reassuring words were spoken in her own tongue and as though it were native to him.
The incident at the gate, he said, and Rachel recalled her experience with a shudder, had attracted the attention of his servant, who had brought him word. Together they had sought her through the streets of the city throughout the night, hoping to aid her, to give her a better impression of Damascus than she had evidently formed. As they had returned, almost persuaded that she must have found friends with whom she was sheltered, they had discovered her asleep, at the portal of the House of Naaman, of whom she had doubtless heard and who was as good as he was great. The servant had now gone for some refreshment. When she had partaken and her strength was somewhat restored, she would permit him, he hoped, to assist her to make plans for the future.
All at once the nerve-tension relaxed and Rachel found herself strangely weak and trembling. She answered with puzzled relief: “Thou dost not look altogether like my people, but thou speakest as one. Canst thou direct me to the House of Ezekiel, in the street of the merchants of Israel? He is my kinsman.”
The anxious expression left the young man’s face. “Yea,” he said, “as soon as thou hast eaten and drunken—and here cometh my servant-thou wilt find that I am the way. Behold, I go before thee. Follow thou me.”