Part 8 (2/2)
”But I cannot see it, Ezra,” said Naomi mournfully. ”Why should I go? I cannot see.”
”Dost thou remember, too, how Deborah's baby clung to thy finger?” said the crafty Ezra, guiding her tenderly down the steps as he talked. ”And did ye not find it pleasant to hold? You rocked it to and fro all day long, Naomi. You said that you wished that Jonas might be put back in swaddling clothes again.”
”Aye, it was pleasant,” admitted Naomi. ”But Deborah brought the baby to me. I will not go to the khan, Ezra. I do not wish to meet any one. My heart is heavy. There will be people to stare at me and to talk in the lanes and at the stable. I will not go.”
”Naomi,” said Ezra desperately, ”dost thou love me?”
”Aye, thou knowest that I love thee,” answered Naomi in surprise.
”Then, to please me, come to the inn stable,” was Ezra's quick response.
”Ask me no questions and delay not, but come. It is early, Naomi. We will meet no one, I hope and trust. Give me thy hand and come.”
Naomi instantly slipped a thin little hand into her brother's outstretched palm.
”For love of thee, Ezra,” said she sweetly. ”For love of thee.”
Down the quiet road, deserted in the winter season at this early hour, Ezra led Naomi, carefully guiding her over the stones and ruts in the rough highway. Un.o.bserved, they slipped quietly through the town gate, and when a turn in the road brought the khan into view Ezra threw his arm about his sister and quickened their steps.
He spoke but once.
”One of thy pigeons flies before us, Naomi,” said he, ”as if to lead us on. It glistens in the sun like silver.”
Naomi only nodded and clung the tighter to Ezra's arm.
Past the inn and round to the stable door he led her, and there they halted.
”Naomi,” said Ezra, his voice trembling with hope and fear, ”thou knowest the stable well. Enter, and walk forward until thy feet touch the straw before the manger. There lies the Babe!”
With a gentle push Ezra started Naomi toward the Mother and Child, whose figures he could dimly see on a heap of straw at the back of the cave.
Then in the shadow of the doorway Ezra fell upon his knees.
”O Lord,” he prayed, ”I know that this is Thy Messiah. I believe that Thou hast sent Him. Thou hast promised of old that when Messiah cometh He shall open the eyes of the blind. I would that He might open my sister Naomi's eyes. If Thou wilt answer this prayer, Lord, I will promise Thee anything. I will be Thy faithful servant, I will be an obedient son, I will learn my lessons well at school and never s.h.i.+rk. I will no more throw stones at stout Solomon nor even call him names. I will promise anything Thou mayst ask of me, if Thy Messiah will only open my sister Naomi's eyes. Hear my prayer, O Lord, hear my prayer.”
Within the stable Naomi crept cautiously forward. Her footsteps lagged, for she had no heart in this undertaking.
What pleasure could there be for her in visiting a stranger's baby which she could not even see? A short time ago, to hold the soft little body close and to feel the tiny clinging hands might have given her a moment's happiness; but to-day her heart was so full of misery that there was no room in it for joy to enter. She longed to sink down on the stable floor. Only her love for Ezra kept her moving.
She felt the straw before the manger beneath her feet, and she dropped to her knees and stretched out a timid hand.
Yes, the Mother and Child were before her.
She fingered the hem of the cloak wrapped about the young Mother, but she could not bring herself to touch the little Child.
”I care not! I care not!” thought Naomi hopelessly. ”What to me is this Baby? Why should Ezra wish me to visit this Child?”
As if in answer to her unspoken question, with a sudden lovely gesture, the Child leaned forward. His tiny fingers touched Naomi's forehead and His hands rested for an instant upon her darkened eyes.
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