who was near to him though his eye saw Him not, and who
spake to him though his outward ear heard no voice of words.

Thus he continued for a season, as if he knew not that any man was nigh
unto him; as if he knew not that there were, in the great world around
him, any one besides his God with whom he communed, and his own soul
which spake unto his God. All this time his servant stood by him, pale
and trembling, but not daring to break in upon that hour of prayer; until
at length the prophet paused, and his eye fell upon the trembler; and he
turned towards him, and said kindly, "What ails thee, my son?" Then the
servant answered, "O my father, look unto the hill." And he stood gazing
in the prophet's face, as though he expected to see paleness and terror
overspread it when his eyes gathered in the sight of those angry hosts.
But it was not so. No change passed over his countenance; his brow was
open as it was before; the colour never left his cheeks; and, with almost
a smile, he turned unto the servant, and said, "And why does this
affright thee?" "It is for thee they seek, my father--it is for thee
they seek; and the wicked men of the town are ready to fall upon thee and
deliver thee into their hands. Even now, as I walked along the street,
they looked on me with fierce and cruel eyes; and they breathed threats
which these lips may not utter, and said, that thou hadst brought this
trouble upon them, and their wives, and their little ones; and I feared
that they would curse thee and thy God." But the prophet was not moved
by his words, for he only answered, "Fear them not; they that are with us
are more than they that are against us." Then did the servant cast his
eyes to the ground, and he spake not, yet his lips moved; and if any one
had heard the words which he whispered, they might perhaps have heard him
ask how this could be, when they were but two, and their enemies were so
many and so mighty.

Now the prophet's eye rested upon him, and he read all his secret
thoughts; and he pitied his weakness, for that holy man was full of pity
for the weak: so he chid him not; but, bowing his knees again on that
flat roof, he prayed unto his God to open the eyes of his affrighted
servant. His prayer was heard. For there fell from them as it were
films; and now, when he looked out, he saw a glorious sight. All the
mountain was full; and they were a wonderful company which filled it. The
dark hosts of the Syrians, a