“There was once a little people,” he began, turning round to where she sat in the corner of a sofa, her hands clasped in her lap—­“there was once a little people—­a mere handful, who afterward became a race—­who saw the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, and followed it.  That is to say, some of them certainly saw it, enough of them to lead the others on.  For a generation or two they were little more than a band of nomads; but at last they came to a land where they fought and conquered and settled down.”

“Yes?  I seem to have heard of them.  Please go on.”

“It was a little land, rather curiously situated between the Orient and the West, between the desert and the sea.  It had great advantages both for seclusion within itself and communication with the world outside.  If a divine power had wanted to nourish a tender shoot, till it grew strong enough to ripen seed that would blow readily into every corner of the globe, it probably couldn’t have done better than to have planted it just there.”

She nodded, to show that she followed him.

“But this little land had also the dangers attendant on its advantages.  To the north of it there developed a great power; to the south of it another.  Each turned greedy eyes on the little buffer state.  And the little buffer state began to be very wise and politic and energetic.  It said, ’If we don’t begin to take active measures, the Assyrian, or the Egyptian, whoever gets here first, will eat us up.  But if we buy off the one, he will protect us against the other.’”

“That seems reasonable.”

“Yes; quite reasonable:  too reasonable.  They forgot that a power that could lead them by fire and cloud could protect them even against conscript troops and modern methods of fighting.  They forgot that if so much trouble had been taken to put them where they were, it was not that—­assuming that they behaved themselves—­it was not that they might be easily rooted out.  Instead of having confidence within they looked for an ally from without, and chose Egypt.  Very clever; very diplomatic.  There was only one criticism to be made on the course taken—­that it was all wrong.  There was a man on the spot to tell them so—­one of those fellows whom we should call pessimists if we hadn’t been taught to speak of them as prophets.  ‘You are carrying your riches,’ he cried to them, ’on the shoulders of young asses, and your treasures on the bunches of camels, to a people that shall not profit you.  For the Egyptians shall help in vain, and to no purpose.  Your strength is—­to sit still!’” As he stood looking down at her his kindly eyes blinked for a minute longer, before he added, “Do you see the point?”

She smiled and nodded.  “Yes.  It isn’t very obscure.  Otherwise expressed it might be, When in doubt, do nothing.”

“Exactly; do nothing—­till the pillar of cloud begins to move.”