"Sister, how many days have passed since thou didst return from Samaria?" asked Isaac, as Leah, her morning's work completed, seated herself beside his couch. "Five, brother," replied the little maid. "So but five more remain and then I shall again journey to Samaria." The lad sighed deeply. "Every day that dawns is long and dreary to me," he said; "but these last five days have seemed indeed the longest and dreariest of all my life. Leah, sometimes during the long, pain-racked hours of the night, my heart hath risen in bitterness against my father that he so long delayeth thy journey to Samaria." "Nay, dear brother, speak not thus," said the little maid, gently. "Our father knoweth best." "But, Leah," cried the lad, his eyes lighting eagerly, a faint flush staining the pallor of his cheek, "if our father had permitted thee to journey at once to Samaria, perhaps, when the fruits were ripe it would have been I who didst carry them to Samaria." "Be patient a little longer, dear brother," said Leah. "And promise me that thou wilt not again cherish bitter thoughts against our father," she added, earnestly. "I promise thee, sister," answered the lad. "Poor father, 'tis a heavy burden upon him that his eldest-born and only son should be a cripple; that while he toileth I lie here helpless, unable to give him a helping hand, to lighten his labor. But, oh, Leah, sister, how happy I shall be "She fell in gratitude at the feet of Elisha," answered the little maid. "I shall also fall in gratitude at the feet of Elisha when he hath made me whole," said Isaac. "Thou must not forget to offer up prayers of gratitude to the great Jehovah from whom cometh the power of Elisha," said Leah, gently. Ezra was at work in the fields when he saw his wife, Sarah, approaching. "What seeketh thou, Sarah?" he asked, as she drew near. "I would speak with thee, Ezra," replied Sarah. "Of what wouldst thou speak, Sarah, that thou seeketh me in the fields at my labor?" asked Ezra. "Canst thou not wait until the day's toil be ended?" "Nay, or I would not seek thee at thy labor," answered Sarah. "I would not speak with thee of this before our children lest they think that thy wife hold but lightly her husband's judgment. Ezra, the hearts of our children are sad that thou delayeth the maiden's journey to Samaria." "Our children be young and knoweth not patience," said Ezra. "Nay, Ezra, our son and eldest-born hath never known youth," sadly answered Sarah. "Youth is sturdy of body, light of limb, joyous of heart. Isaac knoweth naught of "'Tis but a few days until the fruits shall have ripened," muttered Ezra. "Ay, thou art right," said Sarah, "'tis but a few days, but a little while ago I did hear our son say that the five days of waiting had been the longest and dreariest of a life in which every day is long and dreary." "Thou art but a woman, Sarah, and the softness of thy heart doth steal away thy wisdom," said Ezra. "'Tis not so much the woman's heart as the mother's that doth plead with thee, Ezra," replied Sarah, the tears filling her eyes. "Go back to thy children and thy work, woman," commanded Ezra. "And when the day's toil be ended we will speak of this again." Sarah turned obediently away, but her heart was light, for her husband had not said her nay. "Come hither, maiden," said Ezra. The evening meal was over and the night shadows were falling. Leah arose from beside her father's couch and approached Ezra. "Little maid," said Ezra, "maketh thyself ready, for to-morrow, at the dawning of the day, our neighbor will bring his ass and thou shalt set forth for Samaria." The maiden's lips parted eagerly with surprise and joy. The lad, lifted himself upon his elbow, and gazed upon his father with radiant eyes. "But, father, the fruits are not yet ripe," faltered Leah. "That is true," replied Ezra. "But we shall not wait until the fruits have ripened. Art thou not eager, maiden, to seek the prophet, Elisha, in Samaria that thou mayest beg of him to heal thy brother?" "Yes, yes, dear father," cried the little maid, with shining eyes and flushing cheeks. "Then make ready to start upon thy journey at the dawn of day," said Ezra. "I shall be ready, dear father," replied Leah. She turned and went back to her brother's couch. She knelt down beside him and slipped her hand in his. He lifted the little hand to his lips and kissed it reverently and tenderly. When in the gray dawn of the early morning Leah entered Isaac's chamber she found him sleeping. She pressed a kiss upon his brow and stole softly out again. "Thou didst find thy brother sleeping," said Sarah. "He passed a night of pain and restlessness and now sleepeth from exhaustion. But it will fret him not to have bidden thee farewell." "'Tis well that he is resting after his night of pain," said Leah. "Tell him, dear mother, that I kissed him as he slept." "Come, maiden," called Ezra from without. "Fare-thee-well, dear mother," murmured the little maid. Sarah kissed tenderly the sweet, upturned face. "Fare-thee-well, my child," she said, tremulously. "God be with thee." Then the little maid passed through the doorway and out into the grayness of the breaking day. Ezra lifted her upon the ass's back and she turned her face towards Samaria. When Isaac awoke he called his mother to him and said: "Mother, has my sister started for Samaria?" "Yes, my son," replied Sarah. His lips quivered. "Why didst thou not awaken me, mother, that I might bid my sister farewell?" he said. "Thou wert resting, my son, after thy night of pain," answered Sarah. "Thy sister would not have thee awakened, but bid me say to thee that she kissed thee as thou slept. See," pointing to a golden gleam of sunlight which forced itself through the window and lay athwart the bed, "'tis the first ray of the rising sun; ere it sets thy sister will be again with thee." And the lad lay gazing, with a smile upon his lips, at the shaft of golden light. Ezra labored all day in the fields. The sun was sinking low in the heavens when he saw approaching the neighbor whose ass he had borrowed. "Good-evening, neighbor," said Ezra. "Thou art come too soon for thy ass; the maiden hath not yet returned." "I come not for the ass, neighbor," replied the man, whose name was Simeon. "I bring thee ill tidings." "What meaneth thou, neighbor?" asked Ezra. "Ill hath befallen thy little maid," was the reply. "Ill hath befallen my little maid," repeated Ezra, bewilderedly. "Speak, man, what ill?" "She has been taken captive by the Syrians," answered Simeon. "How knoweth thou this?" asked Ezra. "I will tell thee," said his neighbor. "It doth appear," continued Simeon, as Ezra stood pale and speechless, "that this man was traveling on foot from Samaria when he saw approaching from the direction of Damascus, a company of Syrians. They were evidently bent upon plunder, and the man, fearing that they would take "Ay, ill tidings indeed!" murmured Ezra, his head sunk in sorrow upon his breast. "The hand of the Lord hath fallen heavily upon me and mine. How shall I tell the lad, for whose sake she did journey towards Samaria, of the ill that hath befallen his sister? Alas! alas! our little maid captured by the Syrians! sold into slavery!" and Ezra rent his garments and wept bitterly. |