hlehem were waking to the first stir of life
as the sad shepherd came into the town with the morning, and passed
through them like one walking in his sleep.

The court-yard of the great khan and the open rooms around it were
crowded with travelers, rousing them from their night's rest and making
ready for the day's journey. In front of the stables half hollowed in
the rock beside the inn, men were saddling their horses and their
beasts of burden, and there was much noise and confusion.

But beyond these, at the end of the line, there was a deeper grotto in
the rock, which was used only when the nearer stalls were full. At the
entrance of this an ass was tethered, and a man of middle age stood in
the doorway.

The sad shepherd saluted him and told his name.

"I am Joseph the carpenter of Nazareth," replied the man. "Have you
also seen the angels of whom your brother shepherds came to tell us?"

"I have seen no angels," answered Ammiel, "nor have I any brothers
among the shepherds. But I would fain see what they have seen."

"It is our first-born son," said Joseph, "and the Most High has sent
him to us. He is a marvellous child: great things are foretold of him.
You may go in, but quietly, for the child and his mother Mary are
asleep."

So the sad shepherd went in quietly. His long shadow entered before
him, for the sunrise was flowing into the door of the grotto. It was
made clean and put in order, and a bed of straw was laid in the corner
on the ground.

The child was asleep, but the young mother was waking, for she had
taken him from the manger into her lap, where her maiden veil of white
was spread to receive him. And she was singing very softly as she bent
over him in wonder and content.

Ammiel saluted her and kneeled down to look at the child. He saw
nothing different from other young children. The mother waited for him
to speak of angels, as the other shepherds had done. The sad shepherd
did not speak, but only looked. And as he looked his face changed.

"You have suffered pain and danger and sorrow for his sake," he said
gently.

"They are past," she answered, "and for his sake I have suffered them
gladly."

"He is very little and helpless; you must bear many troubles for his
sake."

"To care for him is my joy, and to bear him lightens my burden."

"He does not know you, he can do nothing for you."

"But I know him. I have carried him under my heart, he is my son and my
king."

"Why do you l