So they hoped on, and worked on, amid their orange trees, their corn and vegetables, and their sheep browsing peacefully on the hills. And Mary tended the jasmine flowers and rose-bushes at the door, carrying water to them night and morning, that they might look at their prettiest when Manasseh came. Only one letter had reached them--a cheery, hopeful letter,--but it had been a long time on the way, and the events of which it told had taken place many weeks before it reached the Jordan valley. It had told them of Yusuf and Amzi, of the little church, of the sender's strange meeting with Kedar, and the news he had gathered of Lois. Then it had told of the war, and had closed with an affectionate farewell, in which the writer expressed his wish, rather than his expectation, of being able to make his way to the new home soon. How long it seemed to Mary since that last word had come! And he was not home yet! She kept the precious manuscript in her bosom, and twenty times a day she looked down the long valley for the well-known form. One morning she sat by the river, idly plashing her bare feet in its golden ripples, and looking at the shadows on the little stones near the shore. About her gamboled a pet lamb, and above, a soft blue sky was flecked with fleecy white clouds. She twirled a sprig of blossoms in her hand, but her thoughts were far away in dear, hot, dusty, dreary Mecca. "It is not so pleasant as this, though," she thought, "if Manasseh were only here." Just then the tinkle of a camel-bell was heard,--a strange sound in that secluded spot. Mary looked up, and saw what seemed to be a great many people coming over the hill, camels bearing shugdufs, too, and pack-mules, heavily laden. Trembling, she rushed into the house. "Oh, mother, what means this? See the people! Manasseh would not bring all of those with him?" The mother shaded her eyes with her hand, and looked forth, anxiously. Nearer and nearer came the train. Who were they? Not Manasseh; Manasseh would not come so slowly. Can it be? Not Yusuf! Not Amzi! Yes, yes! O joy! It is they!--and many other familiar faces smile also from the train! "Is Manasseh well?" "Yes, Manasseh is well, and happy." So questions were asked and answered in joyful confusion; and Nathan came in from the hills to bid the travelers welcome. Then the dusty, travel-stained tents were pitched once more, this time on a grassy slope by the rippling Jordan. A simple repast was spread, and the company dined in royal state. With what surprise did Nathan and his household greet the wife of Asru and her sweet-faced daughter as sisters in Christ, and with what sympathy did they hear of Asru's sad death!