en and women, and returned and lied to Achish,
telling him he had fought against Judah and its allies. Had it been
his purpose to hide himself and to do good service to his master Saul
in the war which the Philistines were preparing for him, his treachery
might have excused him; but he had no mind to assist Saul or Israel.
He sang a song after Gilboa in memory of the king and Jonathan, but he
came not near them in the day of battle, and he profited by their
overthrow. He brought his men to Achish, as if he would go down with
him to the fight; but the Philistines distrusted him, and sent him back
to Ziklag. Who knows what he intended? He told Achish that he meant
to take his part against Saul, but no word of his could ever be
believed. Nevertheless, I doubt not that he would have been as good as
his promise if it had been permitted to him. It is certain that he
knew what was about to happen, and that, if he had been loyal to his
prince, he would have striven to assist him.

I remember that dreadful day before the day of Gilboa. The host of the
Philistines came and pitched in Shunem as the sand of the desert for
number. Saul had gathered all Israel together, but they were fewer
than the Philistines, and disheartened. He knew, moreover, that David
and his men were with the enemy; and as he went out that morning, and
saw the host of the Philistines lie upon the hillside, he greatly
trembled, not with fear of death, for he never feared to die, but
because his Terror was upon him, and the Lord refused to speak to him.
He inquired of Him, but the Lord answered him not. The high priest had
brought the ephod, but was dumb, and the prophets heard nothing. Two
nights before the day of the battle, he had sought the Lord for a
dream, and had lain down by my side in hope. The dream came, but it
was a dream of the Terror, and he shrieked and turned, and clasped me
in his arms; and I soothed him, and asked him what he had dreamed, but
he could not tell--it was a horror, awful, shapeless, which he dared
not try to utter; and he clasped me again, me wretched, clasped me for
the last time. He rose and went out in the morning early; went round
his army by himself. He was alone, and he knew that God had forsaken
him.

In his extremity he bethought him of witchcraft. In his zeal for God,
which availed him nothing, he had cast out of the land all those who
dealt with familiar spirits, but one was still left at Endor. To her