plash of rain on her face, and the rippling
of the levanter in her hair.

This was all the witchery of Naomi's playing, yet, because every emotion
in Nature had its harmony, so there was harmony of some wild sort in the
music that was struck by the girl's fingers out of the strings of the
harp. But, more than her music, which was perhaps, only a rhapsody of
sound, was the frenzy of the girl herself as she made it. She lifted
her head like a bird, her throat swelled, her bosom heaved, and as she
played, she laughed again and again.

There was something fascinating and magical in the spectacle of the
beautiful fair face aglow with joy, the rounded limbs (visible through
the robes) clinging to the sides of the harp, and the delicate white
fingers flying across the strings. There was something gruesome and
awful, as well, for the face of the girl was blind, and her ears heard
nothing of the sounds that her fingers were making.

Every eye was on her, and in the wide circle around every mouth was
agape. And when those who looked on and listened had recovered from
their first surprise, very strange and various were the whispered words
they passed between them. "Where has she learnt it?" asked a Moor.
"From her master himself," muttered a Jew. "Who is it?" asked the Moor.
"Beelzebub," growled the Jew. "God pity me, the evil eye is on her,"
said an Arab. "God will show," said a Shereef from Wazzan. "They say
her mother was a childless woman, and offered petitions for Hannah's
blessing at the tomb of Rabbi Amran." "No," said the Arab; "she sent her
girdle." "Anyhow, the child is a saint," whispered the Shereef. "No, but
a devil," snorted the Jew.

"Brava, brava, brava!" cried the new wife of Ben Aboo, and she cheered
and laughed as the girl played. "What did I tell you?" she said, looking
toward her husband. "The child is not deaf, no, nor blind either. Oh,
it's a brave imposture! Brava, brave!"

Still the little maiden played, but now her brow was clouded, her head
dropped, her eyelashes were downcast, and she hung over the harp and
sighed audibly.

"Good again!" cried the woman. "Very good!" and she clapped her
hands, whereupon the Arabs and the Moors, forgetting their dread, felt
constrained to follow her example, and they cheered in their wilder way,
but the Jews continued to mutter, "Beelzebub, Beelzebub!"

Israel saw it all, and at first, amid the commotion of his mind and the
confusion of his senses, his heart melt