She laughed scornfully.

“Pardon me. I was thinking of the soothsayer who warned Caius Julius against the Ides of March, and fancied him looking for the omens of evil which his master despised in the entrails of a chicken. From that picture turn to Elijah sitting on the hill-top on the way to Samaria, amid the smoking bodies of the captains and their fifties, warning the son of Ahab of the wrath of our God. Finally, O my Judah- if such speech be reverent- how shall we judge Jehovah and Jupiter unless it be by what their servants have done in their names? And as for what you shall do- ”

She spoke the latter words slowly, and with a tremulous utterance.

“As for what you shall do, my boy- serve the Lord, the Lord God of Israel, not Rome. For a child of Abraham there is no glory except in the Lord’s ways, and in them there is much glory.”

“I may be a soldier then?” Judah asked.

“Why not? Did not Moses call God a man of war?”

There was then a long silence in the summer chamber.

“You have my permission,” she said, finally; “if only you serve the Lord instead of Caesar.”

He was content with the condition, and by-and-by fell asleep. She arose then, and put the cushion under his head, and, throwing a shawl over him and kissing him tenderly, went away.


CHAPTER VI.

THE ACCIDENT TO GRATUS.

THE good man, like the bad, must die; but, remembering the lesson of our faith, we say of him and the event, “No matter, he will open his eyes in heaven.” Nearest this in life is the waking from healthful sleep to a quick consciousness of happy sights and sounds.

When Judah awoke, the sun was up over the mountains; the pigeons were abroad in flocks, filling the air with the gleams of their white wings; and off south-east he beheld the Temple, an apparition of gold in the blue of the sky. These, however, were familiar objects, and they received but a glance; upon the edge of the divan, close by him, a girl scarcely fifteen sat singing to the accompaniment of a nebel, which she rested upon her knee, and touched gracefully. To her he turned listening; and this was what she sang-

THE SONG

“Wake not, but hear me, love!

Adrift, adrift on slumber’s sea,

Thy spirit call to list to me.

Wake not, but hear me, love!

A gift from Sleep, the restful king,

All happy, happy dreams I bring.

Wake not, but hear me, love!

Of all the world of dreams ’tis thine

This once to choose the most divine.

So choose, and sleep, my love!

But ne’er again in choice be free,

Unless, unless- you dream of me.”

She put the instrument down, and, resting her hands in her lap, waited for him to speak. And as it has become necessary to tell somewhat of her, we will avail ourselves of the chance, and add such particulars of the family into whose privacy we are brought as the reader may wish to know.

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