When they were alone, and Caleb, tired of seeing every familiar thing with those eyes in his fingers, had dropped to sleep upon the couch, Deborah knelt by the side of it--the bed which had been hers in childhood. She would pray. But quick memories wrought a veil that shut out the present communion. She recollected her mother that day when they carried her out to be buried, and when, as a parting gift, she left them little Caleb. She thought of the happy years when Benjamin had taken her upon his big boyish shoulders, and played with her on the roof-top, and down by the brook Kedron where she had been to-day. She had been wont to dream of Benjamin as a prince among the people, and wondered if the Messiah, when He should come, would be handsomer or braver or kinder than her brother. Then she recalled the strange sickness that had fallen upon Caleb; the days of pain which her little mother-hands alone could exorcise from his hot temples and writhing form; and how, when the sickness passed, his eyes grew larger, as if seeing things far away, but saw not anything that others looked upon. She sat again at her father's feet, and learned from his lips the sacred precepts of the Law and the thrilling stories of her nation's heroes, and the wonders of Jehovah's arm made bare for Israel's deliverance. God had been to her in those childhood days a Presence of which she seemed conscious--the clouds His robes of glory, and every whispering breeze His assurance of love and care. But now--she tried to pray, but her prayer was only like the cry of a child in fright. Her soul threw out its arms blindly grasping at she knew not what--yet called that unknown "God's Will." How weak she was! And yet how strong! She realized that she was but as a leaf in the stream which the current carries along, but which the current cannot sink. True, she could not resist the terrible tide of circumstances into which her lot was cast, but neither could these circumstances destroy her. She stood with clenched hands, motionless, looking at nothing. Her lips moved, and this they said: "I cannot even pray. I was Elkiah's daughter, but now I am not even a woman; I am a spirit, vengeful, hating, deceiving, or I could not do this thing. Yet surely, I am Elkiah's daughter. This is my chamber. And this, and this, and this is mine. O, my father, forgive me! And yet thy sainted spirit called me to come home again. O, Lord God of my father, help me to honour his name, and to save his house!" XVIII HIGH PRIEST! HIGH DEVIL!