was in her look, there was no displeasure. Presently she
received the water; her father drank; then she raised the cup to
her lips, and, leaning down, gave it to Ben-Hur; never action more
graceful and gracious.

"Keep it, we pray of thee! It is full of blessings--all thine!"

Immediately the camel was aroused, and on his feet, and about to
go, when the old man called,

"Stand thou here."

Ben-Hur went to him respectfully.

"Thou hast served the stranger well to-day. There is but one God.
In his holy name I thank thee. I am Balthasar, the Egyptian.
In the Great Orchard of Palms, beyond the village of Daphne,
in the shade of the palms, Sheik Ilderim the Generous abideth in
his tents, and we are his guests. Seek us there. Thou shalt have
welcome sweet with the savor of the grateful."

Ben-Hur was left in wonder at the old man's clear voice and reverend
manner. As he gazed after the two departing, he caught sight of
Messala going as he had come, joyous, indifferent, and with a
mocking laugh.

CHAPTER IX

As a rule, there is no surer way to the dislike of men than to
behave well where they have behaved badly. In this instance,
happily, Malluch was an exception to the rule. The affair he had
just witnessed raised Ben-Hur in his estimation, since he could
not deny him courage and address; could he now get some insight
into the young man's history, the results of the day would not
be all unprofitable to good master Simonides.

On the latter point, referring to what he had as yet learned, two
facts comprehended it all--the subject of his investigation was
a Jew, and the adopted son of a famous Roman. Another conclusion
which might be of importance was beginning to formulate itself
in the shrewd mind of the emissary; between Messala and the son
of the duumvir there was a connection of some kind. But what
was it?--and how could it be reduced to assurance? With all his
sounding, the ways and means of solution were not at call. In the
heat of the perplexity, Ben-Hur himself came to his help. He laid
his hand on Malluch's arm and drew him out of the crowd, which was
already going back to its interest in the gray old priest and the
mystic fountain.

"Good Malluch," he said, stopping, "may a man forget his mother?"

The question was abrupt and without direction, and therefore of
the kind which leaves the person addressed in a state of confusion.
Malluch looked into Ben-Hur's face for a hint of meaning, but saw,