How long it seemed to Mary since that last word had come!  And he was not home yet!  She kept the precious manuscript in her bosom, and twenty times a day she looked down the long valley for the well-known form.  One morning she sat by the river, idly plashing her bare feet in its golden ripples, and looking at the shadows on the little stones near the shore.  About her gamboled a pet lamb, and above, a soft blue sky was flecked with fleecy white clouds.  She twirled a sprig of blossoms in her hand, but her thoughts were far away in dear, hot, dusty, dreary Mecca.

“It is not so pleasant as this, though,” she thought, “if Manasseh were only here.”

Just then the tinkle of a camel-bell was heard,—­a strange sound in that secluded spot.  Mary looked up, and saw what seemed to be a great many people coming over the hill, camels bearing shugdufs, too, and pack-mules, heavily laden.

Trembling, she rushed into the house.

“Oh, mother, what means this?  See the people!  Manasseh would not bring all of those with him?”

The mother shaded her eyes with her hand, and looked forth, anxiously.

Nearer and nearer came the train.  Who were they?  Not Manasseh; Manasseh would not come so slowly.  Can it be?  Not Yusuf!  Not Amzi!  Yes, yes!  O joy!  It is they!—­and many other familiar faces smile also from the train!

“Is Manasseh well?”

“Yes, Manasseh is well, and happy.”

So questions were asked and answered in joyful confusion; and Nathan came in from the hills to bid the travelers welcome.  Then the dusty, travel-stained tents were pitched once more, this time on a grassy slope by the rippling Jordan.  A simple repast was spread, and the company dined in royal state.

With what surprise did Nathan and his household greet the wife of Asru and her sweet-faced daughter as sisters in Christ, and with what sympathy did they hear of Asru’s sad death!

Then plans for the immediate settlement of the little party were made.  Pasture-land in abundance was to be had; hence the majority of the new-comers would be speedily and comfortably provided with new homes.  Amzi would take up his abode in some comfortable town-house not far distant, and Yusuf would remain with him for the present.

Mary and Sherah were friends at once, and ere evening fell, they sat, as girls will, in a cozy nook by the river-side forming plans for walks and talks during the long, bright, summer days.

Every cloud had drifted, for the time being, from the happy company; and, ere they retired to rest, all united with fervor in the words of the grand song: 

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits:  who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies; who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle’s.  The Lord executeth righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed....  Bless the Lord, all his works, in all places of his dominion!  Bless the Lord, O my soul!”