Artaban rode swiftly around the hill. He dismounted and climbed to the
highest terrace, looking out towards the west.

The huge desolation of the marshes stretched away to the horizon and the
border of the desert. Bitterns stood by the stagnant pools and jackals
skulked through the low bushes; but there was no sign of the caravan of
the wise men, far or near.

At the edge of the terrace he saw a little cairn of broken bricks, and
under them a piece of parchment. He caught it up and read: "We have
waited past the midnight, and can delay no longer. We go to find the
King. Follow us across the desert." Artaban sat down upon the ground
and covered his head in despair.

"How can I cross the desert," said he, "with no food and with a spent
horse? I must return to Babylon, sell my sapphire, and buy a train of
camels, and provision for the journey. I may never overtake my friends.
Only God the merciful knows whether I shall not lose the sight of the
King because I tarried to show mercy."




FOR THE SAKE OF A LITTLE CHILD


There was a silence in the Hall of Dreams, where I was
listening to the story of the other wise man. And through this silence I
saw, but very dimly, his figure passing over the dreary undulations of
the desert, high upon the back of his camel, rocking steadily onward