“Sir Charleroy sweetens my trust as Jordan sweetens the bitter waters of Bahr Lut.” CHAPTER IX. THE FEAST OF THE ROSE. “They arise now like the stars before me Through the long, long night of years; Some are bright with heavenly radiance, And others shine out through our tears. They arise, too, like mystical flowers, All different and all the same— As they lie on my heart like a garland That is wreathed around MARY’S name,” “Good morning and a blessing, comrade.” It was the greeting of the Jew to the knight who lay asleep under a palm the day after the flight. The sleeper slowly rising, murmured: “I’m half vexed at thee, Ichabod; thou hast dissolved a dream filled with sights of home and mother.” “I’ve brought lentils, barley, and grape-clusters; they are better than dreams when the sun is up.” “To those sad when awake, joyful dreams are welcome.” “There are real joys just before us.” “Real joys, just before us? Grim sarcasm; a sorry jest, Jew!” “No; oh, no. I’m telling thee the smiling, clean-faced truth. We’ll be safe at Jabbock’s city by sun set!” “Safe? safe? I’m unused to that word; almost afraid of it. What does it mean in this country?” “Oh, these cavalrymen! always on the charge; now here, now there. Thy thoughts go by habit, sometimes racing forward, sometimes retreating. A while ago thou wert as full of faith as Gideon, now thou art as timorous as Canaan’s spies.” “My habits have grown fat by feeding on piebald experiences.” “Experience is a lying prophet, when it counts without reckoning God.” “I can not see a step ahead. That’s certainty to me, though thou callest it doubt. I know not how to hang rainbows upon the ghostly brows of the future when I’ve no power to lay hand on the ghostly form and have no rainbows.” “He that lifted the burdens of the past from off us holds the changing winds of the future in His fists. One second of life goes ever with only one second of care. I learned this of Sir Charleroy long ago. Now he forgets his own teachings. Shall I call him Reuben, never excelling because unstable as water?” “Call me slave: Uncertainty’s slave! Thou didst waken me from a dream of home, to the shock of remembering again that I was homeless, dead to all that once made life worth living. The gorgeous hopes of thy fertile mind are mocked by stern present facts.” “Odd talk from one just dreaming of his mother; a good woman didst say? then very hopeful; all good women are. Then remember how thou didst lift me to the very gates of heaven yesterday. Thou canst not see a step ahead? Well, then look back; miles; years. Was not our God in thy battles in the thickets; in the mountains; in Jordan? My poor reasoning tells me that He has wrought too much for us to drop us now. He must get His reward in keeping us to the end.” “Some of the past makes me shudder, Ichabod.”