It was this white, shuddering creature that Zia remembered with the sick chill of horror when he saw the spots.

“Unclean!  Unclean!” he heard the cracked voice cry to the sound of the wooden clappers.  “Unclean!  Unclean!”

Judith was standing at the door of her hovel one morning when Zia was going forth for the day.  He had fearfully been aware that for days she had been watching him as he had never known her to watch him before.  This morning she had followed him to the door, and had held him there a few moments in the light with some harsh speech, keeping her eyes fixed on him the while.

Even as they so stood there fell upon the clear air of the morning a hollow, far-off sound—­the sound of wooden clappers rattled together, and the hopeless crying of two words, “Unclean!  Unclean!”

Then silence fell.  Upon Zia descended a fear beyond all power of words to utter.  In his quaking young torment he lifted his eyes and met the gaze of the old woman as it flamed down upon him.

“Go within!” she commanded suddenly, and pointed to the wretched room inside.  He obeyed her, and she followed him, closing the door behind them.

“Tear off thy garment!” she ordered.  “Strip thyself to thy skin—­to thy skin!”

He shook from head to foot, his trembling hands almost refusing to obey him.  She did not touch him, but stood apart, glaring.  His garments fell from him and lay in a heap at his feet, and he stood among them naked.

One look, and she broke forth, shaking with fear herself, into a breathless storm of fury.

“Thou hast known this thing and hidden it!” she raved.  “Leper!  Leper!  Accursed hunchback thing!”

As he stood in his nakedness and sobbed great, heavy childish sobs, she did not dare to strike him, and raged the more.

If it were known that she had harbored him, the priests would be upon her, and all that she had would be taken from her and burned.  She would not even let him put his clothes on in her house.

“Take thy rags and begone in thy nakedness!  Clothe thyself on the hillside!  Let none see thee until thou art far away!  Rot as thou wilt, but dare not to name me!  Begone! begone! begone!”

And with his rags he fled naked through the doorway, and hid himself in the little wood beyond.

Later, as he went on his way, he had hidden himself in the daytime behind bushes by the wayside or off the road; he had crouched behind rocks and boulders; he had slept in caves when he had found them; he had shrunk away from all human sight.  He knew it could not be long before he would be discovered, and then he would be shut up; and afterward he would be as Berias until he died alone.  Like unto Berias!  To him it seemed as though surely never child had sobbed before as he sobbed, lying hidden behind his boulders, among his bushes, on the bare hill among the rocks.