"Only blind! Whew!" and a long whistle threaded the stillness of the march. "Silence!" said a gruff voice. "Can't you see a bit?" "No, not as you see." "Haven't you any eyes?" and the boy drew Caleb's face close to his. "Oh, such big eyes! and can't see? But such eyes must see somewhere. Maybe they are like my feet, that look in the direction they aren't going. Can't you see the inside of your head?" Caleb laughed, and fell in with the mirthful mood of his companion. "They say I can see out of my ears and from my finger ends." "I shouldn't wonder," replied the lame boy. "And can you see as well in the dark as in the light?" "Just as well." "Whew!" "Silence there!" "Say, couldn't you and I have fun with the jackals?" There was a pause. "Say, can you see"--and the boy's voice sunk to a whisper--"can you see God? Or maybe the angels? What are they like? Like Judas? or old Mattathias? or like--like your sister there?" Caleb protested against his companion's irreverence and ignorance. "Well, at any rate, the angels see you." "How do you know they do?" "Because, blind as you are, you do not stumble half as much as I do. There, you stepped right over that rock that I nearly broke my heels on; and the Psalmist said of somebody, 'that the angels keep him from stubbing his toes.' Those are not the words, but something like them. But how can the angels lift you over the stones if they can't see you? Eh! But what's your name?" "Caleb. What's yours?" "Solomon; but they don't call me that. They call me Mephibosheth, because Mephibosheth was lame in his feet; that is, they call me Meph because the whole word takes too much breath, and folks need all they've got, especially in such travelling as this." The night wore wearily away. Once old Mattathias joined the little group, but only for a few moments; for though the conduct of the expedition was left to the younger men, chiefly his five sons, the responsibility of the movement rested with the venerable priest. Once Judas came to them, but it was only to insist that the daughter of Elkiah should make use of a rude palanquin, which two strong-limbed men carried between them upon two poles. This Deborah refused, and, footsore and weary though she was, trudged by its side while the bearers conveyed a sick woman with her babe at her breast.