he hill-pastures to bring down their
sheep. From the open door of a low stone cottage he heard the sound of a
woman's voice singing softly. He entered and found a young mother
hushing her baby to rest. She told him of the strangers from the far
East who had appeared in the village three days ago, and how they said
that a star had guided them to the place where Joseph of Nazareth was
lodging with his wife and her new-born child, and how they had paid
reverence to the child and given him many rich gifts.

"But the travellers disappeared again," she continued, "as suddenly as
they had come. We were afraid at the strangeness of their visit. We
could not understand it. The man of Nazareth took the babe and his
mother and fled away that same night secretly, and it was whispered that
they were going far away to Egypt. Ever since, there has been a spell
upon the village; something evil hangs over it. They say that the Roman
soldiers are coming from Jerusalem to force a new tax from us, and the
men have driven the flocks and herds far back among the hills, and
hidden themselves to escape it."

Artaban listened to her gentle, timid speech, and the child in her arms
looked up in his face and smiled, stretching out its rosy hands to grasp
at the winged circle of gold on his breast. His heart warmed to the
touch. It seemed like a greeting of love and trust to one who had
journeyed long in loneliness and perplexity, fighting with his own
doubts and fears, and following a light that was veiled in clouds.

"Might not this child have been the promised Prince?" he asked within
himself, as he touched its soft cheek. "Kings have been born ere now in
lowlier houses than this, and the favourite of the stars may rise even
from a cottage. But it has not seemed good to the God of wisdom to
reward my search so soon and so easily. The one whom I seek has gone
before me; and now I must follow the King to Egypt."

The young mother laid the babe in its cradle, and rose to minister to
the wants of the strange guest that fate had brought into her house. She
set food before him, the plain fare of peasants, but willingly offered,
and therefore full of refreshment for the soul as well as for the body.
Artaban accepted it gratefully; and, as he ate, the child fell into a
happy slumber, and murmured sweetly in its dreams, and a great peace
filled the quiet room.

But suddenly there came the noise of a wild confusion and uproar in the
streets of the vi