Vergilius thought, as he went on, of
those camel-riders. He seemed to hear in the lift and fall of hoofs,
in the rattle of scabbards, that strange cry: "Where is he that is born
king of the Jews?"
Darkness fell upon those riding in silence on the lonely road.
Suddenly they drew rein, listening.
Said Vergilius, whispering: "I thought I heard voices."
"And I," said David, his words touched with awe. "'Twas like tens of
thousands singing in some distant place."
Again they listened, but the song, if song it was, had ceased.
Then, boldly, as one who would put down his fear, the color-bearer
spoke up; "'Tis a band of shepherd folk on some far hill. Never saw I
so dark a night. By the curtains of Solomon, I cannot see my horse!"
"There is no star in the sky," said another.
Then said the young commander, whist with awe: "Look yonder! A light
on the hills! I saw it appear."
Amazement was in the tone of David: "Nay, 'tis a window of paradise!
Or maybe that time is come when the three great stars should gather
side by side.
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