“Then my father told them all the things that we had heard and seen—­the message of the angel, the song in the air, the glory of the Lord that had appeared to us—­and how we had quickly come to Bethlehem, and had found things as the angel had told us.  ’And it is even,’ he cried, ’as the prophet himself hath spoken:  “Thou Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel, whose going forth hast been of old; even from everlasting."’

“All that heard were full of astonishment—­all save the mother.  I saw no wonder on her face; the great things that my father told caused her no astonishment; she listened with a quiet and solemn joy, like one who was saying in her heart:  ‘I knew it all before.’

“When my father had finished speaking, we all bowed low again before the young child; and the mother lifted him in her arms and placed his cheek against her own, smiling graciously on us, but uttering no word.  And we came forth from the stable and stood again beneath the stars in the courtyard of the inn.  By this time many of the travelers were awake, and an eager company had gathered around us, all of whom desired to be told of the sign that had been shown to us.  To one and another we rehearsed our story, lingering long to make known the good tidings, until the morning star appeared and the dawn began to kindle over the eastern hills.  Then we hastened to our own homes in the city, and told our kindred what had happened unto us.  In the early morning we came back again unto our pastures and our flocks, rejoicing to stand again in the place where the glory of God had shone and the music of heaven had filled the air.”

Stephanus paused, his face all aglow with the tale that he had been telling.  His eyes swept again the circuit of the moonlit hills and were lifted reverently up to the sky.

“Did you ever see the Lord Christ after that?” asked Joseph.

“Once only.  My father and I were at Jerusalem at the passover.  It was the year before my father died, seventeen years ago; it was the same week on which our Lord was crucified.  My father was then an aged man—­fourscore and five years old.  Our tent was pitched on the slope of the Mount of Olives, near the Bethany road.  While we sat there one morning, a great noise of shouting was heard, and presently we saw one riding on an ass, followed by a great company, crying ‘Hosanna!’ As we drew nearer, we heard them say that it was Jesus of Nazareth; and, when we saw His face, we knew that it was He, by the wonderful eyes, though it was the face of a bearded man, and not of an infant, and was very pale and sad.  As He drew near to our tent, the city came full into His view, with its gilded roofs and marble pinnacles, blazing under the morning sun.  Suddenly He paused in the way, and we heard Him weeping aloud, though we could not hear His words of lamentation.  The multitude halted, too, when we did; and the cheering ceased, and some of those who stood nearest Him wept also, though no one seemed to know what had caused His grief.  But soon they went on again, and before they reached the foot of the hill another multitude met them, coming forth from the city, and we heard their shouts of ’Hosanna in the Highest!’ as they entered the gate of Jerusalem.”