imself of followers. When the
six hundred men of Gath--who had been with him ever since his early days
in Philistia, and had grown grey in his service--make themselves the van
of his little army, he urges the heroic Ittai, their leader, to leave
him a fugitive, and to worship the rising sun, "Return to thy place, and
abide with _the king_"--so thoroughly does he regard the crown as passed
already from his brows. The priests with the ark are sent back; he is
not worthy to have the symbol of the Divine presence identified with
his doubtful cause, and is prepared to submit without a murmur if God
"thus say, I have no delight in thee." With covered head and naked feet
he goes up the slope of Olivet, and turning perhaps at that same bend in
the rocky mountain path where the true King, coming to the city, wept as
he saw its shining walls and soaring pinnacles across the narrow valley,
the discrowned king and all his followers broke into passionate weeping
as they gazed their last on the lost capital, and then with choking sobs
rounded the shoulder of the hill and set their faces to their forlorn
flight. Passing through the territory of Saul's tribe--dangerous ground
for him to tread--the rank hatred of Shimei's heart blossoms into
speech. With Eastern vehemence, he curses and flings stones and dust in
the transports of his fury, stumbling along among the rocks high up on
the side of the glen, as he keeps abreast of the little band below. Did
David remember how the husband from whom he had torn Michal had followed
her to this very place, and there had turned back weeping to his lonely
home? The remembrance, at any rate, of later and more evil deeds
prompted his meek answer, "Let him curse, for the Lord hath bidden
him."

The first force of the disaster spent itself, and by the time he was
safe across Jordan, on the free uplands of Bashan, his spirit rises. He
makes a stand at Mahanaim, the place where his great ancestor, in
circumstances somewhat analogous to his own, had seen the vision of
"bright-harnessed angels" ranked in battle array for the defence of
himself and his own little band, and called the name of the place the
"two camps." Perhaps that old story helped to hearten him, as the
defection of Ahithophel from the conspiracy certainly would do. As the
time went on, too, it became increasingly obvious that the leaders of
the rebellion were "infirm of purpose," and that every day of respite
from actual fighting diminish