"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 favorite 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 babe 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 quiet room.
But suddenly there came the noise of a wild confusion and uproar in the
streets of the village, a shrieking and wailing of women's voices, a
clangor 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.
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