“They would not let us into the Temple,” Joseph went on, “because I am an Arab, born a Christian.  So I could not see where Jesus was presented, in infancy.  But we went to the synagogues where He taught; we went out upon Olivet to Gethsemane where He suffered in the Garden; we climbed that hill to the south from which He looked upon the City and wept over it, and prophesied this hour.  Then we sought the ravine where Judas betrayed Him with a kiss, and afterward Urban led me over the streets by which He was taken first to Annas and to Caiaphas and thence to Pilate and to Herod.  After that, by the Way of the Cross to Golgotha; from there to His Tomb.  And when we had seen the Guest-chamber and stood upon the Place of the Ascension, I needed no further instruction.”

The boy had forgotten his guest.  By the rapt light in his eyes, the Maccabee knew that the boy was once more journeying over the stones of the streets of the Holy City, or standing awed on the polished pavements of its lordly interiors, or on the topmost point of her hills with the broad-winged wind from the east flying his long locks.

“If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.  If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy,” the Maccabee said, half to himself.

The boy heard him, but his patient’s words merged with the dream that held him entranced.  The Maccabee went on.

“So said the Psalmist to himself,” he said.  “What had he to do for Jerusalem; what did he fear would win him away from that labor for Jerusalem, that he took that vow?  It was easy enough to revile Babylon, the oppressor, that stood between him and Jerusalem; but what if he had been the captive of beauty, and chained by the bonds of lovely hair!”

The boy turned now and looked at the Maccabee.  The eyes of the two met fair.  Then the Maccabee unburdened his soul and told of the girl to this child, who was a Christian and a humble shepherd in the starved hills of Judea.

“I met her,” the boy said after a long silence.  “And by what I learned of her spirit that night, she will not be happy to know that you have stepped aside for her sake.”

“You met her, also; and you loved her, too?”

The boy assented gravely.  The Maccabee slowly lifted his eyes from the young shepherd’s face, till they rested on the slope of sky filled with stars visible through the open door.

“And she would have me go on to this city, to the one who awaits me there and whom I shall not be glad to see; take up the labor that will be robbed of its chief joy in its success and live the long, long days of life without her?”

The boy made no answer to this; he knew that this white-faced man was wrestling with himself and comment from him was not expected.  By the light of the failing fire without, he saw that face sober, take on shadow and grow immeasurably sad.  The minutes passed and he knew that the Maccabee would not speak again.