"The frosts! The frosts!" the dying man whispered. The mute
understood. Then the father's eyes wandered toward the figure of his
daughter fended away from him by the pagan. The agony of her suffering
and the agony of his distress for her bridged the space between them.
And while they yearned toward each other in a silence that quivered
with pain, the light darkened in Costobarus' eyes.
When Laodice came to herself, she was laid upon a spot of rough grass,
in the shelter of an overhanging bluff. It was not the scene upon
which her sorrow-stunned eyes had closed a while before. The village
was nowhere in sight; the plain had been left behind; any further view
was shut off by Aquila's horse, and the two camels whose bridles were
in the hands of Hiram. Beside the stricken girl knelt Momus and
Aquila; standing at her feet was a new-comer, on whom her wandering and
half-conscious gaze rested.
He was an old man, clad in a short tunic, ragged of hem and girt about
him with a rope. Barefoot, bareheaded and provided only with a staff
and a small wallet, he was to outward appearances little more than one
of the legion of mendicants that infested the poverty-stricken land of
Judea. But his large eyes, under the tangle of wind-blown white hair
and white shelving brows, were infinitely intelligent and refined.
Now, they beamed with pity and concern on the bereaved girl.
But she forgot him the next instant, for returning consciousness
brought back like a blow the memory of the death of her father.
From time to time she caught snatches of conversation between the old
wayfarer and Aquila. They were spoken in low tones and only from time
to time did they reach her.
"He was Costobarus, principal merchant of this coast," she heard
Aquila explain shortly.
"I shall go on to Ascalon; I do not fear," the old man said next. "I
shall bring his people to fetch his body. I marked the spot. Comfort
her with that, when she can bear to talk of it."
"We go to Jerusalem," Aquila went on, some time later, "else we should
turn back with him ourselves. But we dare not risk the pestilence on
her account, for it seems that she is very necessary to the Jews at
this hour--very necessary."
"I follow to the Holy City," the old wayfarer added at last. "The
Passover is celebrated there within two weeks. But I shall not fail;
nothing will harm me."
"What talisman do you carry to protect you?" the pagan asked a little
irritably.
"No talisman, but the love of Jesus Christ, the Saviour!"
"A Christian!" Aquila exclaimed.
Even through her stupor of grief and hopelessness, Laodice heard this
exclamation. Here, then, was one of the Nazarenes, that mysterious
sect whose tenets she had never been permitted to hear; But also, she
knew that the old apostate had braved the plague and had buried her
father. She turned to look at him in time to see him extend his hands
in blessing over her.