"I know not," Nathan replied, "but the command was laid upon me, and it is Jehovah's will that I should obey. Were it not so, He would have told me. How can we know His ways? Who are we that we should question His wisdom? Yet in the end, I have faith that it will be well with thee; for to Him nothing is impossible."
It was long before Clearchus closed his eyes in sleep that night. He lay looking upward at the tranquil and steadfast stars and revolving in his mind the words of the Israelite. Could it be that a Divinity greater than all others existed in the universe, whose will ruled all things? The idea took possession of him, and at the same time hope was renewed in his breast. The Gods whom he had honored had deserted him; perhaps the God of Israel could help him.
CHAPTER XXIII
IN THE WHIRLWIND'S TRACK
Long before Nathan with his captives reached the Persian capital, the sentinels upon the towers of Halicarnassus gave warning of the approach of Alexander's army. Fresh from the storming of stubborn Miletus, the Macedonians advanced against the lofty walls which sheltered the army of Memnon, nearly as numerous as their own. At the first alarm the braying of trumpets sounded through the city, and soldiers filled the streets, marching quickly towards the Mylasan Gate.
Iphicrates, perched high on the walls with the corps of citizen defenders to which he belonged, watched the regular troops making ready for their sally. He held a spear in his hand and a sword was buckled about his fat sides.
"I wish I was with them," said a youth beside him, little more than a boy, gazing down upon the array.
"It's cooler up here—and safer too," the old money-lender muttered, wiping his brow.
"They will cut the Macedonians to pieces," the boy exclaimed, "and I shall have no part in the victory."