It was the very earliest morning. The day was not breaking as it does in this land of England, with a dewy twilight and a gradual dawning—first a dull glow all over the east, then blood-red rays, catching any fleecy cloud which is stealing over the sky, and turning all its misty whiteness into gold and fire;—but day was breaking as it does in those eastern countries—sudden, and bright, and hot. Darkness flew away as at a word; the thick shadows were all at once gone, and the broad glaring sun rose proudly in the sky, rejoicing in his strength. The people of the town woke up again to life and business. Doors were flung wide open, and some were passing through them; the flat roofs of the houses began to be peopled—on one was a man praying, on others two or three standing together; but most of the people were hastening here and there to get through their necessary work before the full heat of the day came on; numbers were passing and repassing to the clear dancing fountain, the cool waters of which bubbled up in the midst of a broad square within that city.

And now, what is it which one suddenly sees, and, after gazing at it for a while, points out to another, and he to a third? As each hears, they look eagerly up to the hill, which rises high above their town, until they gather into a knot; and then, as one and another are added to their company, grow into almost a crowd. Still it is in the same quarter that all eyes are fixed; their water-vessels are set idly down, as if they could not think of them. Those which were set under the fountain have been quite full this long time, but no one stooped to remove them; and the water has been running over their brimming sides, while its liquid silver flew all round in a shower of sparkling drops. But no one thinks of them. What is it which so chains all eyes and fixes the attention of all?

The hill is quite full of armed men. There were none there overnight: they have come up from the vale silently and stealthily during the darkness, while men slept, like some great mist rising in stillness from the waters, and they seem to be hemming in the town on every side. Look which way you will, the sun lights upon the burnished points of spears, or falls on strong shields, or flashes like lightning from polished and cutting swords, or is thrown a thousand ways by the rolling wheels of those war-chariots. “Who are they?” is the question of all; and no one likes to say what all have felt for a long time—“they are our enemies, and we are their prey.”

But there is no use in shutting the eyes any longer to the truth. The morning breeze has just floated off in its airy waves that flag which before hung down lifelessly by the side of its staff. It has shewn all. They are enemies; they are fierce and bitter enemies; they are the Syrians, and they are at war with Israel.

But why are they come against this little town? When they have licked up it and its people like the dust from the face of the earth, they will be scarcely further on in their war against Israel. Why did not they begin with some of the great and royal cities? Why was it not against Jerusalem, or Jezreel, or even against the newly rebuilt Jericho? Why should they come against this little town?

Then one, an evil-looking man of a dark countenance, one who feared not God and loved not His servants, whispered to those around him, and said, “Have you not heard how Elisha the prophet, who dwells amongst us, has discovered to the king of Israel the secrets of the army of the king of Syria? No doubt it is because Elisha is dwelling here that the king of Syria has come upon us. And now shall we, and our wives, and our sweet babes, and our houses, and our treasures, become the prey of the king of Syria, for the sake of this Elisha. I never thought that good would come from his dwelling here.”

Now, fear makes men cruel and suspicious, and fills their minds with hard thoughts; and many of these men were full of fear: and so, when they heard these words, they began to have hard bad thoughts of God’s prophet, and to hate him, as the cause of all the evils which they were afraid would very soon come upon them.

Just then the door of another house opened: it was the prophet’s house, and his servant came forth with the water-vessels to fill them at the fountain. He wondered to see the crowd of men gathered together, and he drew near to ask them what was stirring. He could read upon their dark scowling faces that something moved them exceedingly; but what it was he could not gather. He could not tell why they would scarcely speak to him, but looked on him with angry faces, and spoke under their breath, and said, “This is one of them.” “’Twere best to give them up.” “They will destroy us all.” Then the man was altogether astonished; for his master had been ever humble, and kind, and gentle; no poor man had ever turned away without help when he had come in his sorrows to the prophet of the Lord. And yet, why were they thus angry with him, if it were not for his master’s sake?

Broken sentences were all that he could gather; but, by little and little, he learned what they feared and what they threatened; he saw, also, the hosts of armed men gathered all around the city; and his heart, also, was filled with fear. He believed that it was for his master’s sake that they were there; he saw that all around him were turned against his master, and he trembled exceedingly. For some time he stood amongst the rest, scarce knowing what to do, neither liking to remain nor daring to go; until at last, as some more stragglers joined themselves to the company, he slunk away like one ashamed, without stopping even to fill the water-vessels he had brought.

And so he entered his own door, heavy-hearted and trembling; and he went to the prophet’s chamber, for he deemed that he still slept. But the man of God was risen; and he knew, therefore, where he should find him—that he would be upon the flat roof of his house, calling upon the name of the Lord his God, who had made another morning’s sun to rise in its glory.

The Prophet’s Guard

So he followed his master to the housetop; and there, even as he had supposed, he found the holy man. It was a striking sight, could any one have seen the difference between these two men. The one pale and trembling and affrighted, like a man out of himself, and with no stay on which to rest his mind; the other calm and earnest, as, in deep and solemn prayer, with his head bowed and his hands clasped together, his low voice poured forth his thanksgiving, or spake of his needs; he also, as it seemed, was out of himself, but going out of himself that he might rest upon One who was near to him though his eye saw Him not, and who spake to him though his outward ear heard no voice of words.

Thus he continued for a season, as if he knew not that any man was nigh unto him; as if he knew not that there were, in the great world around him, any one besides his God with whom he communed, and his own soul which spake unto his God. All this time his servant stood by him, pale and trembling, but not daring to break in upon that hour of prayer; until at length the prophet paused, and his eye fell upon the trembler; and he turned towards him, and said kindly, “What ails thee, my son?” Then the servant answered, “O my father, look unto the hill.” And he stood gazing in the prophet’s face, as though he expected to see paleness and terror overspread it when his eyes gathered in the sight of those angry hosts. But it was not so. No change passed over his countenance; his brow was open as it was before; the colour never left his cheeks; and, with almost a smile, he turned unto the servant, and said, “And why does this affright thee?” “It is for thee they seek, my father—it is for thee they seek; and the wicked men of the town are ready to fall upon thee and deliver thee into their hands. Even now, as I walked along the street, they looked on me with fierce and cruel eyes; and they breathed threats which these lips may not utter, and said, that thou hadst brought this trouble upon them, and their wives, and their little ones; and I feared that they would curse thee and thy God.” But the prophet was not moved by his words, for he only answered, “Fear them not; they that are with us are more than they that are against us.” Then did the servant cast his eyes to the ground, and he spake not, yet his lips moved; and if any one had heard the words which he whispered, they might perhaps have heard him ask how this could be, when they were but two, and their enemies were so many and so mighty.

Now the prophet’s eye rested upon him, and he read all his secret thoughts; and he pitied his weakness, for that holy man was full of pity for the weak: so he chid him not; but, bowing his knees again on that flat roof, he prayed unto his God to open the eyes of his affrighted servant. His prayer was heard. For there fell from them as it were films; and now, when he looked out, he saw a glorious sight. All the mountain was full; and they were a wonderful company which filled it. The dark hosts of the Syrians, and their glancing swords and clashing chariots, now looked but as a mere handful; for the whole mountain round them was full of that heavenly army. Chariots of fire and horsemen of fire thronged it in every part. High up into the viewless air mounted their wheeling bands: rank beyond rank, and army beyond army, they seemed to stretch on into the vastness of space, until the gazer’s wearied eye was unable to gaze on them. And all of these were gathered round his master. They were God’s host, keeping guard over God’s servant. And they who would injure him must first turn aside those flashing swords, must break up that strong and serried array, and be able to do battle with God’s mighty angels.

Then was the weak heart strong. Then did the poor trembler see that he was safe; and know that he who is on God’s side can never want companions and defenders.