When the battle was over, Samuel came to meet him, and rebuked him as if he had been a child for what he called rebellion and stubbornness.  The priest stood up before the king, and told him that his rebellion was as witchcraft, and his stubbornness as idolatry.  “Because thou hast rejected the word of the Lord,” he cried, “He hath also rejected thee from being king.”  Rebellion, stubbornness!  Saul was neither rebellious nor stubborn.  He had smitten the Amalekites; in obedience to Samuel’s command, he had done what he hated to do; he had slaughtered young and old, but he had saved Agag, and although he humbled himself before Samuel, and prayed him to remain, he would not.  Saul laid hold upon the skirt of his mantle; but he departed, and it was rent, and he cursed Saul, and declared that as the garment was rent, so had the Lord rent the kingdom of Israel from him that day, and given it to another better than he.  Then Samuel called Agag unto him, and hewed the unarmed man in pieces, and declared he would see Saul no more.  Now Saul was brave, the bravest of the brave, but he greatly feared at times what he called his Terror.  What it was which troubled him none ever rightly knew.  He was not mad as others are mad, for his senses never left him, and he was always the counsel and the strength of the nation, whom they all sought in their distress.  But something had caught him of which he could not rid himself, and he would come to me with wild eyes, and clasp me in his arms.  I could not comfort him; and all I heard was a strange word or two about a Face which haunted him and would not leave him.  I could not comfort him, but it was to me nevertheless he always fled; and although he spoke so little, for he dared not name his Terror, he said to me more than he has said to any man or woman:  it was I, it was I more than any other who knew the secrets of the king’s soul.  My belief is that Samuel brought the Terror on him.  He never forgot that dreadful day when Agag was murdered, and it was always before his eyes that he was doomed, and that there was another man in the land, who was to rule in his stead.  I tried to appease him.  I told him that life to all of us is short, that in the grave there is forgetfulness, and bade him drink wine, lie in my bosom, and shut out the morrow, but it was of no avail.  There was nothing to be dreaded in the thought that some one would supplant him, and other men would have endured it in peace; but it was the constant presence of the thought, the impossibility of getting rid of it, which darkened the sun for him.  Day after day, night after night, this one thing was before him.  It was as if he were bound to a corpse, and ever dragged it after him.  Higher than any of the people from his shoulders and upwards, like a lion for courage, and yet he would have fled even to Death from this thing, for he could not face it.  What a mockery is the strength of the strongest!  A word from the Lord can cause the greatest to grovel in the dust!  It was thought that music would help him, and they brought to him David, who was skilled with the harp, and had moreover a ruddy, cheerful countenance.  Gay and light of heart was he, and as he sang and played the Terror would sometimes loosen its hold, and Saul was himself again, but it never left him for long.