ndurance, and the watchful
soul temptation cannot sully, these are the fruits we lay upon his
altar, and meekly watch if some descending flame will vouchsafe to
accept and brightly bless them.

'It is written in the dread volume of our mystic lore, that not alone
the Saviour shall spring from out our house of princes, but that none
shall rise to free us, until, alone and unassisted, he have gained the
sceptre which Solomon of old wielded within his cedar palaces.

'That sceptre must he gain. This fragile youth, untried and delicate,
unknowing in the ways of this strange world, where every step is danger,
how much hardship, how much peril, what withering disappointment, what
dull care, what long despondency, what never-ending lures, now lie in
ambush for this gentle boy! O my countrymen, is this your hope? And I,
with all my lore, and all my courage, and all my deep intelligence of
man; unhappy Israel, why am I not thy Prince?

'I check the blasphemous thought. Did not his great ancestor, as young
and as untried, a beardless stripling, with but a pebble, a small
smoothed stone, level a mailed giant with the ground, and save his
people?

'He is clearly summoned. The Lord is with him. Be he with the Lord, and
we shall prosper.'

It was at sunset, on the third day after the arrival of Alroy at the
cave of the Cabalist, that the Prince of the Captivity commenced his
pilgrimage in quest of the sceptre of Solomon.

Silently the pilgrim and his master took their way to the brink of the
ravine, and there they stopped to part, perhaps forever.

'It is a bitter moment, Alroy. Human feelings are not for beings like
us, yet they will have their way. Remember all. Cherish the talisman as
thy life: nay! welcome death with it pressing against thy heart, rather
than breathe without it. Be firm, be pious. Think of thy ancestors,
think of thy God.'

'Doubt me not, dear master; if I seem not full of that proud spirit,
which was perhaps too much my wont, ascribe it not to fear, Jabaster,
nor even to the pain of leaving thee, dear friend. But ever since that
sweet and solemn voice summoned me so thrillingly, I know not how it is,
but a change has come over my temper; yet I am firm, oh! firmer far than
when I struck down the Ishmaelite. Indeed, indeed, fear not for me. The
Lord, that knoweth all things, knows full well I am prepared even to the
death. Thy prayers, Jabaster, and----'

'Stop, stop. I do remember me. See this ring: 't