tle, shepherds
leading their bleating flocks from the slopes of Carmel, and the
pastures beneath the snow-capt heights of Lebanon. Fishermen left not
their nets by the shores of the inland lakes, nor their boats drawn up
on the coast by the sea, to go up, as their fathers had gone, to
worship the Lord in Zion. There were no pilgrims from Sharon's plains
or the mountains of Gilead. Jerusalem was not crowded with joyful
worshippers, and her streets made almost impassable by the droves and
flocks collected for sacrifice, as when Josiah held his
never-to-be-forgotten Passover Feast. There were no loud bursts of
joyful music, as when the singers, the sons of Asaph, ranged in their
appointed places, led the chorus of glad thanksgiving. Groups of
Hebrews, by twos and threes, stealthily made their way, as if bound on
some secret and dangerous errand, to the few houses in which the owners
were bold enough or pious enough to prepare the Paschal feast.

Amongst these dwellings was that of the elder Salathiel, a man who, in
despite of threatened persecution, still dared to worship God according
to the law as given through Moses. In an upper room in his house all
was set ready for the celebration of the feast, in order as seemly as
circumstances would permit. The Paschal lamb had been roasted whole in
a circular pit in the ground; it had been roasted transfixed on two
spits thrust through it, one lengthwise and one transversely, so as to
form a cross. The wild and bitter herbs, with which it was to be
eaten, had been carefully washed and prepared. On the table had been
placed plates containing unleavened bread, and four cups filled with
red wine mingled with water.

There had been difficulty in gathering together on this occasion, in
the house of Salathiel, even the ten individuals that formed the
smallest number deemed by the Hebrews sufficient for the due
celebration of the feast. Three of the persons present were females,
two of them belonging to Salathiel's own family. The third was Zarah,
who, closely shrouded in her large linen veil, came under the escort of
Abishai her uncle. The guests arrived late, having had to change their
course more than once, from the suspicion that they were dogged by
Syrian spies.

Greetings, in that upper chamber, were interchanged in low tones;
whispered conversation was held as to the recent events, the tidings of
which had thrilled like an electric shock through the heart of
Jerus