Even while he related these things he remembered his lesson, and, dropping his eyelids, fixed his gaze on the camel’s feet.

“Why dost thou cast thine eyes downward?” the man asked in a troubled and intense voice.

Zia could not speak, being stricken with fear and the dumbness of bewilderment.  He stood quite silent, and as he lifted his eyes and let them rest on the stranger’s own, they became large with tears—­big, piteous tears.

“Why?” persisted the man, anxiously.  “Is it because thou seest evil in my soul?”

“No, no!” sobbed Zia.  “One taught me to look away because I am hideous and—­my eyes—­are evil.”

“Evil!” said the stranger.  “They have lied to thee.”  He was trembling as he spoke.  “A man who has been pondering on sin dare not pass their beauty by.  They draw him, and show him his own soul.  Having seen them, I must turn my camel’s feet backward and go no farther on this road which was to lead me to a black deed.”  He bent down, and dropped a purse into the child’s alms-bag, still staring at him and breathing hard.  “They have the look,” he muttered, “of eyes that might behold the Messiah.  Who knows?  Who knows?” And he turned his camel’s head, still shuddering a little, and he rode away back toward the place from which he had come.

There was gold in the purse he had given, and when Zia carried it back to Judith, she snatched it from him and asked him many questions.  She made him repeat word for word all that had passed.

After that he was sent out to beg day after day, and in time he vaguely understood

[Illustration with caption:  “’Perhaps when he is a man he will be a great soothsayer and reader of the stars’”]

that the old woman had spoken falsely when she had said that evil spirits looked forth hideously from his eyes.  People often said that they were beautiful, and gave him money because something in his gaze drew them near to him.  But this was not all.  At times there were those who spoke under their breath to one another of some wonder of light in them, some strange luminousness which was not earthly.

“He surely sees that which we cannot.  Perhaps when he is a man he will be a great soothsayer and reader of the stars,” he heard a woman whisper to a companion one day.

Those who were evil were afraid to meet his gaze, and hated it as old Judith did, though, as he was not their servant, they dared not strike him when he lifted his soft, heavy eyelids.

But Zia could not understand what people meant when they whispered about him or turned away fiercely.  A weight was lifted from his soul when he realized that he was not as revolting as he had believed.  And when people spoke kindly to him he began to know something like happiness for the first time in his life.  He brought home so much in his alms-bag that the old woman ceased to beat him and gave him more liberty.  He was allowed to go out at night and sleep under the stars.  At such times he used to lie and look up at the jeweled myriads until he felt himself drawn upward and floating nearer and nearer to that unknown something which he felt also in the high blueness of the day.