The soldier shrugged his shoulders. “Our master’s impatience brooketh no delay, as thou wilt know from knowing him, but he must first obtain the king’s permission and the king’s credentials ere he dare venture into another kingdom to ask a favor of a monarch with whose house Syria hath been time and again at war.”
Miriam was dismayed, incredulous. It had seemed such a simple matter to her.
Isaac smiled. “Thou dost not consider how great a man is our master. Knowest thou not it is an affair of state?”
He left her and she ran with swift footsteps to tell the glad news to Milcah and then, with greater deliberation, to speak of it to her mistress.
Next morning the household was early astir. The general air of excitement precluded sleep to even the most laggard, yet why this straw of relief appeared more able to bear the weight of their longings than previous efforts no one could have told, nor, indeed, did they pause to ask. None, at least, save Miriam. At the top of the stone staircase which led to the roof she unexpectedly met Isaac. He greeted her gayly.
“All is well, little maid, so far. To-day I go to the palace to request an audience for my master with the king.”
“Thinkest thou, Isaac, that he will approve the journey?”
“The thoughts of a king, Miriam, are past finding out, but we have a good omen.”
He pointed to the opal sky, beautiful in its sunrise tints. “Seest thou? As the Syrians say, our all-conquering lord, the Sun, goeth forth from his habitation with smiles to the arms of the virgin East who haileth his approach with blushes.”
Miriam pointed to the distant mountains. “Seest thou the good omen? No haze shrouds them from our view, but even as they stand immovable and protecting, so Jehovah is ever a shield round about his people. The rosy sky, against which the mountains show dark and clear, reminds us that our hope is in the Lord our God who only giveth us the victory.”