ed at sight of what Naomi did.
Had God opened a gateway to her soul? Were the poor wings of her spirit
to spread themselves out at last? Was this, then, the way of speech
that Heaven had given her? But hardly had Israel overflowed with the
tenderness of such thoughts when the bleating and barking of the faces
about him awakened his anger. Then, like blows on his brain, came the
cries of the wife of the Governor, who cheered this awakening of
the girl's soul as it were no better than a vulgar show; and at that
Israel's wrath rose to his throat.

"Brava, brava!" cried the woman again; and, turning to Israel, she said,
"You shall leave the child with me. I must have her with me always."

Israel's throat seemed to choke him at that word. He looked at Katrina,
and saw that she was a woman lustful of breath and vain of heart, who
had married Ben Aboo because he was rich. Then he looked at Naomi,
and remembered that her heart was clear as the water, and sweet as the
morning, and pure as the snow.

And at that moment the wife of the Governor cheered again, and again the
people echoed her, and even the women on the housetops made bold to
take up her cry with their cooing ululation. The playing had ceased, the
spell had dissolved, Naomi's fingers had fallen from the harp, her head
had dropped into her breast, and with a sigh she had sunk forward on to
her face.

"Take her in!" said the wife of Ben Aboo, and two Arab soldiers stepped
up to where the little maiden lay. But before they had touched her
Israel strode out with swollen lips and distended nostrils.

"Stop!" he cried.

The Arabs hesitated, and looked towards their master.

"Do as you are bidden--take her in!" said Ben Aboo.

"Stop!" cried Israel again, in a loud voice that rang through the court.
Then, parting the Arabs with a sweep of his arms, he picked up the
unconscious maiden, and faced about on the new wife of Ben Aboo.

"Madam," he cried, "I, Israel ben Oliel, may belong to the Governor, but
my child belongs to me."

So saying, he passed out of the court, carrying the girl in his arms,
and in the dead silence and blank stupor of that moment none seemed to
know what he had done until he was gone.

Israel went home in his anger; but nevertheless, out of this event he
found courage in his heart to begin his task again. Let his enemies
bleat and bark "Beelzebub," yet the child was an angel, though suffering
for his sin, and her soul was with God. She was a