t at the royal table, even the most privileged
courtiers sat on the floor and ate at his feet.

The feast has begun, and it is time for the Rab-shakeh to present the
wine to the king. He takes the jewelled cup from the table in the king's
presence, he carefully washes it, then he fills it with a specially rare
wine, named the wine of Helbon, which was kept only for the king's use.
This wine was made from a very fine growth of grapes, at a place in the
Lebanon not far from Damascus, named Helbon. Then Nehemiah pours a
little wine into his left hand and drinks it, and then, lightly holding
the cup between the tips of his fingers and thumbs, he gracefully
presents it to the great monarch.

Artaxerxes glances at his cup-bearer as he rises from his knees, and at
once notices something remarkable in his face. Nehemiah is pale and
anxious and troubled; his whole face tells of the struggle going on
within, and the king cannot fail to perceive it. Turning to the
Rab-shakeh he asks: 'Why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou art not
sick? this is nothing else but sorrow of heart.' 'Then,' says Nehemiah,
'I was very sore afraid.' It is no wonder that he was alarmed, for it
was actually a crime, proscribed by law, for any one to look sad or
depressed in the presence of a Persian king. However heavy might be his
heart, however sorrowful his spirit, he must cross the threshold of the
palace with a smiling face, and show no signs in the king's presence of
the trouble within. But Nehemiah's face has betrayed him. What will the
king do? Will he dismiss him from office? Will he degrade him from his
high position? Will he punish him for his breach of court etiquette? Or
can it be that this is a heaven-sent opportunity in which he may make
his request? He answers at once:

'Let the king live for ever: why should not my countenance be sad, when
the city, the place of my fathers' sepulchres, lieth waste, and the
gates thereof are consumed with fire?'

And the king, quite understanding from Nehemiah's speech that he wants
something from him, asks immediately:

'For what dost thou make request?'

Oh, what a critical moment! How much depends on Nehemiah's answer to
this unexpected question! What shall he say? What dare he propose? The
whole future of Jerusalem may hang on his answer to the king's question.

There is a moment's pause, but only a moment's, and then Nehemiah's
answer is given. Only a moment, and yet great things have been don