At his feet was Caucabe the Star; in the distance was Damascus. Marsyas drew up his jaded horse and looked, not at the beauty of the scene, for he did not wish to see it now, but down the roads. Over every yellow ribbon his gaze passed until, beyond the limits of the white-towered town, he saw a cluster of small moving figures. "O rememberer of no wrongs," he said to his horse, "only a little way and thou shall rest and I shall rest!" He pressed on, past Caucabe the Star, down the hedges of roses between the emerald oceans of young grain and the odorous shade of orchards. The sun climbed higher, more heated, more merciless; the oleanders gave up their fast fragrance until the night fell again; the vineyards curled, leaf by leaf, the young grain drooped and wilted, the orchards pent in the heat under their boughs, the yellow roads became streaks of brass and the tyrant of the desert stood at its meridian. Another stadium, and Marsyas drew up his horse sharply. Sixty paces ahead was a wayside pool, overshadowed by tall trees--an irresistible invitation to the traveler seeking refuge from the sun. A lean, bowed figure in rabbinical robes stood beside a mule that drank of the spring. Half a dozen men in the garments of Levites stood by their own beasts with rein in hand while they drank. Marsyas felt in his belt for his knife, and curbing his thirsty horse lowered down on Saul of Tarsus. In his association with hardy pagans, athletae and the exquisite Herod, he had in a measure forgotten the feebleness of Saul. "He is weak!" he said to himself. "But what mercy hath he shown the weak?" He recalled the terrible desert, remembered that Saul had sworn to bring back the Nazarenes to Jerusalem for trial--back across that empire of death! And Lydia, gentle and without hardihood, against whom he could not bear to think of the wind blowing strongly, was to go that way! The Levites watched the Pharisee narrowly; one of them, whom Marsyas recognized as Joel, made tentative movements toward unpacking the supplies from one of the burden-bearing beasts. But the Pharisee drew up the bridle of his mule and led it to the roadside toward a stone by which he could mount. The eyes of the Levites followed him in a troubled manner, and Joel sat down as if to show that he believed the rabbi would not proceed in the noon. "Up!" said Saul calmly, "we shall continue to Damascus." The troubled Levites stared at him, and Joel presently objected: "But--but it is the noon! And the heat is cruel!" "We can proceed, nevertheless," was the reply. The stupefied Levite stumbled to his feet, and the party led their beasts out into the sun. Marsyas with a fierce word dismounted and strode toward them.