d at the strangeness of their visit.
We could not understand it. The man of Nazareth took the child and his
mother, and fled away that same night secretly, and it was whispered
that they were going 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.

"Why 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 baby 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 room.

But suddenly there came the noise of a wild confusion in the streets of
the village, a shrieking and wailing of women's voices, a clangour of
brazen trumpets and a clashing of swords, and a desperate cry: "The
soldiers! the soldiers of Herod! They are killing our children." The
young mother's face grew white with terror. She clasped her child to
her bosom, and crouched motionless in the darkest corner of the room,
covering him with the folds of her robe, lest he should wake and cry.

But Artaban went quickly and stood in the doorway of the house. His
broad shoulders filled the portal from side to side, and the peak of his
white cap all but touched the lintel.

The soldiers came hurrying down th