The shepherd paled. This possibility had not occurred to him.
“But I think Isaac liketh her not at all, else he would have visited her.”
Benjamin uttered an exclamation, but she was too full of the importance of her discovery to pay attention. She continued impressively, looking around to make sure she was not overheard:
“Not since he found her, cold and tired and hungry, just outside this wall one daybreak and conducted her to the street of the merchants of Israel, where Amos and Rebekah took pity upon her distress, never once did she see him until the morning. I went with Milcah and we found him talking to her on the footway. He had stopped just a moment to tell her that he and his servant were starting to bring thee. I think he would have done nothing for her at all, not even on the way hither, if she had not been thy betrothed. He would not even promise to help her when I first asked. Wouldst thou not have supposed he would consider her as sweet and beautiful as thou dost and I?”
The shepherd was too bewildered to reply at once. “Art thou very sure of what thou sayest?” he finally stammered, an odd excitement in his manner. “Thy words sound strange to mine ears. I would hear all thou knowest,” and Miriam was very obliging.
Beginning with the last time he had visited their home in Israel (which had been a few days before their parents went to the feast at Jerusalem; when he and Rachel had come to a full understanding), she told him all that had befallen her and what she knew concerning Rachel. He heard with varying emotions, and all too soon Isaac stood before them. On his face was the dignity of sorrow. The gladness died out of Miriam’s countenance; his grief was hers. He pressed the hand she slipped into his and addressed Benjamin.
“My mother—” he began and his voice broke. In a moment he went on: “My servant will conduct thee to Rachel and attend upon thee. After the custom of our people I must remain in seclusion until after our period of mourning hath ended. Nevertheless, the House of Naaman is thine abode as long as thou art in Damascus and whenever thou comest hither. My home is thine. And this I give into thy keeping for the purpose of which we spoke. I will instruct my servant regarding its disposal.”
He unclasped the bracelet from his arm and for the second time gave it to the shepherd, but his present manner bore no resemblance to the first. Something of the difference occurred to Benjamin. He called after the retreating figure. He ran and placed himself before Isaac, bowing low before him.
“Thy servant hath misjudged thee. Forgive, I pray thee. What am I that thou shouldst show such kindness unto me?”
The shepherd’s voice faltered before the other’s coldly courteous manner. He went on almost timidly: “My sister hath explained much that I could not understand hitherto. Surprise and perplexity hath gone and in their stead hath come shame. I would that thou shouldst overlook—”