The voice of the angel died away, and the air was filled with music.  Berachah raised Madelon to her feet.  “Ah, daughter,” said he, “It is the wonder night so long expected.  To us hath it been given to see the sign.  It is the Messiah who hath come, the Messiah, whose name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.  He it is who shall reign on the throne of David, he it is who shall redeem Israel.”

Slowly up the hillside toiled the shepherds to the tent of Berachah, their chief, who rose to greet them eagerly.

“What think you of the wonder night and of the sign?” he queried.  “Are we not above all others honored, thus to learn of the Messiah’s coming!”

“Yea, and Berachah,” replied their spokesman, Simon, “believest thou not that we should worship the infant King!  Let us now go to Bethlehem, and see this thing which has come to pass.”

A murmur of protest came from the edge of the circle, and one or two turned impatiently away, whispering of duty toward flocks, and the folly of searching for a new-born baby in the city of Bethlehem.  Hardheaded, practical men were these, whose hearts had not been touched by vision or by song.

The others, however, turned expectantly toward Berachah, awaiting his decision.  “Truly,” said Jude, “the angel of the Lord hath given us the sign in order that we might go to worship Him.  How can we then do otherwise?  We shall find Him, as we have heard, lying in a manger.  Let us not tarry, but let us gather our choicest treasures to lay at His feet, and set out without delay across the hills toward Bethlehem.”

“Oh, my father,” whispered Madelon, “permit me to go with thee.”  Berachah did not hear her, but turned and bade the men gather together their gifts.

“I, too, father?” asked Madelon.  Still Berachah said nothing.  Madelon slipped back into the tent, and throwing her arms around Melampo, her shepherd dog, whispered in his ear.

Soon the shepherds returned with their gifts.  Simple treasures they were,—­a pair of doves, a fine wool blanket, some eggs, some honey, some late autumn fruits.  Berachah had searched for the finest of his flock,—­a snow-white lamb.  Across the hills toward Bethlehem in the quiet, star-lit night they journeyed.  As they moved silently along, the snow beneath their feet was changed to grass and flowers, and the icicles which had dropped from the trees covered their pathway like stars in the Milky Way.

Following at a distance, yet close enough to see them, came Madelon with Melampo at her heels.  Over the hills they travelled on until Madelon lost sight of their own hillside.  Farther and farther the shepherds went until they passed David’s well, and entered the city.  Berachah led the way.

“How shall we know?” whispered Simon.  And the others answered, “Hush, we must await the sign.”

When at last they had compassed the crescent of Bethlehem’s hills, they halted by an open doorway at a signal from their leader.  “The manger,” they joyfully murmured, “the manger!  We have found the new-born King!”