He placed his long lance in its resting strap, bowed his head to the neck of his steed--both a salaam to the woman and a signal of haste to the beast--and disappeared over the hill like an autumn leaf whirled away by the wind. XXXII THE CASTLE OF MASADA Nadan would have been no true son of Yusef if the commission to escort the fair Jewess had not been a pleasing one; for the old Sheikh was known as the "Solomon of the Tents," and many a Shulamite maiden had looked upon him as "black but comely." The paternal badinage with his son about the girl's breath upon his cheek was undoubtedly as unwise as it was unnecessary. But Deborah herself saved the young man from all temptation. When Nadan returned to her she was standing with face uplifted, as when one is looking at some far-distant object in the lower sky. Her eyes did not rest on the summit of Nebo or Pisgah, whose grayish-blue peaks rose like gigantic towers on the agate wall of the mountains of Moab. Beyond them, beyond all the earth, her soul seemed to be drinking from fountains in the sky. Nadan's approach did not at once divert her rapt attention. The youth felt something like resentment at her indifference to his presence. Did not the maidens of the valley sing and dream the praise of Nadan? And if his comeliness had been less, was he not the richest of the young lords of the tribes, and their most daring rider? Just now, as he stood beside his splendid steed, one hand upon the lustrous mane, the other grasping the tall spear to draw it from its socket in the ground, his attitude was such as to fascinate any lover of a manly form. He was fully conscious of this, and kept his pose at first in the hope that the woman would notice him. Then he remained motionless because the spell which held Deborah looking heavenward also held him staring at her. His feeling of slighted dignity passed away almost as quickly as the shadow of a flying bird. Deborah seemed more than a woman, some priestess illumined with the light of her shrine, which was invisible to all eyes but her own. The Arab felt himself drawn to a kindred worship; at least, he worshipped the worshipper. Slowly the rhapsody faded from her face. When she turned toward her companion she was simply a woman, with a girlish sweetness and timidity. Nadan had seen a flower which, when the sunlight fell upon it, burst at once from bud to glorious fulness, and when darkness came closed its petals again. Were human beings sometimes gifted with such powers? All his Arab superstitions about genii and other wonderful creatures who live on the borderland between the visible and invisible world were beginning to perplex and awe him, when Deborah's simple and confiding manner reassured him that he had only a human being to deal with, though an exceedingly fascinating one. "I shall conduct you to Masada," said he, making deep obeisance. "It need not be," replied Deborah.