nt of the shepherd Ishmael's cave, and that within
lay a young woman on the bed of leaves, an infant at her breast. And
high up in the air they heard singing.

The story quickly spread through the mountains round Bethlehem. The
shepherds who were awake roused those who slept. Everywhere a
delicious tremor was felt, a sense of mighty wonder. A poor, strange
woman and a naked child! What was the use of singing? Swaddling
clothes and wraps and milk were what was needed. One brought the
fleece of a slaughtered sheep. Another brought dried figs and grapes
and a skin of red wine. Other shepherds brought milk and bread and a
fat kid; every one brought something, just as they took tithes to the
officer. An old shepherd came with a patched bagpipe, and when the
bystanders laughed, Ishmael said: "Do you expect our poor, good Isaac,
to bring David's golden harp? He gives what he has, and that's often
worth more than golden harps."

When they came down they no longer saw the star or the angels, but they
found the cave, and the father and the mother and the child. He lay in
the manger on the hay, and the beasts stood round and gazed at him with
their big, melancholy, black eyes. The shepherd's pity for the poor
people was so great that no one thought he was doing a good work for
which people would praise him and God would bless him. No one looked
slyly at his neighbour to see who gave more and who less. Their one
feeling was pity.

People came from the town; and a wiry shepherd, placing himself before
the entrance to the grotto, and using his staff as a spear, said: "Men
of Bethlehem, ye cannot enter; the babe sleeps."

Near by stood an old man, who said dreamily: "The town cast him out. I
always said there was no salvation yonder. That's to be found with the
poor under the open sky. Miracles are happening here, men are pitiful.
What does it mean?"

Down below in a cleft of the rock cowered a poor sinner, and burrowed
in the earth with his lean fingers as if he would dig himself a grave
in its depths. He gazed at the cave where the child was with glassy,
staring eyes. A prayer for mercy surged up in his heart like a stream
of blood. Those who saw him turned from him shuddering. They took him
for Cain, his brother's murderer.

CHAPTER III

A stranger was riding a lazy camel across the lonely Arabian desert.
All men are Moors in the dark, but this man was a Moor in the
starlight. A newly discovere