take thee down to the inn stable to show thee
something there. And what it is, thou couldst never guess if thou didst
guess a hundred years."

Naomi shook her head.

"Show me? What could I see? Nay, I will go nowhere, Ezra," she answered
sadly. "If I went, I could not see thy wondrous sight. I would far
rather stay at home."

"But this is something to feel," said Ezra coaxingly, putting his arm
about Naomi and leading her gently toward the stairway. "Tell me, dost
thou remember when young Deborah, the vine-dresser's wife, laid
something soft and warm in thine arms?"

"A baby, Ezra?" asked Naomi, stopping short. "A baby at the inn stable?"

"Aye," said Ezra firmly, "a Baby! A Baby born in a stable and lying in
a manger because there was no room last night at the inn."

"But I cannot see it, Ezra," said Naomi mournfully. "Why should I go? I
cannot see."

"Dost thou remember, too, how Deborah's baby clung to thy finger?" said
the crafty Ezra, guiding her tenderly down the steps as he talked. "And
did ye not find it pleasant to hold? You rocked it to and fro all day
long, Naomi. You said that you wished that Jonas might be put back in
swaddling clothes again."

"Aye, it was pleasant," admitted Naomi. "But Deborah brought the baby to
me. I will not go to the khan, Ezra. I do not wish to meet any one. My
heart is heavy. There will be people to stare at me and to talk in the
lanes and at the stable. I will not go."

"Naomi," said Ezra desperately, "dost thou love me?"

"Aye, thou knowest that I love thee," answered Naomi in surprise.

"Then, to please me, come to the inn stable," was Ezra's quick response.
"Ask me no questions and delay not, but come. It is early, Naomi. We
will meet no one, I hope and trust. Give me thy hand and come."

Naomi instantly slipped a thin little hand into her brother's
outstretched palm.

"For love of thee, Ezra," said she sweetly. "For love of thee."

Down the quiet road, deserted in the winter season at this early hour,
Ezra led Naomi, carefully guiding her over the stones and ruts in the
rough highway. Unobserved, they slipped quietly through the town gate,
and when a turn in the road brought the khan into view Ezra threw his
arm about his sister and quickened their steps.

He spoke but once.

"One of thy pigeons flies before us, Naomi," said he, "as if to lead us
on. It glistens in the sun like silver."

Naomi only nodded and clung the tighter to Ezra's arm.

Past the i