eenly. Then he wheeled and entered the monastery.

"The grace of God be upon thee, David!" How strange it sounded, this
Christian blessing in response to his own Oriental greeting, out in
this Eastern waste. His own name, too. It was as though he had been
transported to the ancient world where "Brethren" were so few that they
called each other by their "Christian" names--even as they did in Hamley
to-day. In Hamley to-day! He closed his eyes, a tremor running through
his body; and then, with an effort which stilled him to peace again, he
moved forward, and was greeted by Ebn Ezra, from whom the third member
of the little group had now drawn apart nearer to the acacia-tree, and
was seated on a rock that jutted from the sand. "What is it?" David
asked.

"Wouldst thou not sleep, Saadat? Sleep is more to thee now than aught
thou mayst hear from any man. To all thou art kind save thyself."

"I have rested," David answered, with a measured calmness, revealing to
his friend the change which had come since they parted an hour before.
They seated themselves under the palm-tree, and were silent for a
moment, then Ebn Ezra said:

"These come from the Place of Lepers."

David started slightly. "Zaida?" he asked, with a sigh of pity.

"The monk who passed thee but now goes every year to the Place of Lepers
with the caravan, for a brother of this order stays yonder with the
afflicted, seeing no more the faces of this world which he has left
behind. Afar off from each other they stand--as far as eye can see--and
after the manner of their faith they pray to Allah, and he who has just
left us finds a paper fastened with a stone upon the sand at a certain
place where he waits. He touches it not, but reads it as it lies, and,
having read, heaps sand upon it. And the message which the paper gives
is for me."

"For thee? Hast thou there one who--"

"There was one, my father's son, though we were of different mothers;
and in other days, so many years ago, he did great wrong to me, and not
to me alone,"--the grey head bowed in sorrow--"but to one dearer to me
than life. I hated him, and would have slain him, but the mind of Allah
is not the mind of man; and he escaped me. Then he was stricken with
leprosy, and was carried to the place from whence no leper returns. At
first my heart rejoiced; then, at last, I forgave him, Saadat--was he
not my father's son, and was the woman not gone to the bosom of Allah,
where is peace? So I forgave