"God keep thee and forget thy heresy," she said. "If thou livest in Pella, Pella is indeed happy." He laughed with a flush stealing up under the brown of his cheeks. A faint light came into Laodice's eyes as she looked at him; he returned her gaze with a gradual softening that was intensely complimentary. Between the two was effected instant and lasting fellowship. Before Momus' indignant eyes the shepherd was blushing happily. "Who art thou?" Laodice asked. "They call me Joseph, son of Thomas." After a silence she said softly, "I am not at liberty to tell my name." She remembered the secrecy of Philadelphus' mission. "Yet perchance if the God of my fathers prosper me and my husband, I may come to Pella--as thy queen." The boy's eyes brightened and he drew in a sharp breath, but almost instantly the animation died and he looked at her sorrowfully. It seemed that she read dissent and sympathy commingled in his gaze. But he was a Christian; he could not believe and hope as she hoped. "Can I do aught for you?" he asked disjointedly. "Our duty is rather toward you, child," she answered, suddenly arousing to the peril they might bring their free-handed host. "We have newly come from a country where there is pestilence." But he smiled down on her uplifted face, with immense confidence. "I am not afraid. Besides, if I perish giving you comfort, I have done only as Jesus would have me do." "Who is Jesus?" Laodice asked. The shepherd made a little sign and bent his knee. "The Christ!" he responded. Momus plucked quickly at Laodice's sleeve and shook his head at her in an admonitory manner. He had laid down his bread unfinished. But the shepherd looked at him sympathetically. "Never fear," he said. "It will not hurt her to hear about Him. He makes Pella safe from armies. Let her come there and see for herself." Laodice pressed his hand. "I shall come," she said. He heaved a contented sigh--contented with himself, contented with her promise to come. Then he drew his hands away. "The sheep are noisy; they will not let you sleep. We shall go." Then as if afraid of her thanks he drew away, and halted at the threshold of the shelter. Then the boy extended his hands with a gesture so solemn that both of his guests bowed their heads instinctively. "_The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you for evermore_. Farewell," he said in a half-whisper. He was gone. Presently the rush of little feet swept after him and his high, wild, youthful yell rang faintly in the distance. The delicate crackling from the heated bed of coals was all that was heard in the sheltered wady roofed with skins. For the second time within the past few hours, Laodice had met a Christian. Both had helped her; both had blessed her. And one was an old man and one was a child.