The streets of the village seemed to be deserted, and Artaban wondered
whether the men had all gone up to the hill-pastures to bring down
their sheep. From the open door of a low stone cottage he heard the
sound of a woman's voice singing softly. He entered and found a young
mother hushing her baby to rest. She told him of the strangers from the
far East who had appeared in the village three days ago, and how they
said that a star had guided them to the place where Joseph of Nazareth
was lodging with his wife and her new-born child, and how they had paid
reverence to the child and given him many rich gifts.

"But the travellers disappeared again," she continued, "as suddenly as
they had come. We were afraid at the strangeness of their visit. We
could not understand it. The man of Nazareth took the babe and his
mother and fled away that same night secretly, and it was whispered
that they were going far away to Egypt. Ever since, there has been a
spell upon the village; something evil hangs over it. They say that the
Roman soldiers are coming from Jerusalem to force a new tax from us,
and the men have driven the flocks and herds far back among the hills,
and hidden themselves to escape it."

Artaban listened to her gentle, timid speech, and the child in her arms
looked up in his face and smiled, stretching out its rosy hands to
grasp at the winged circle of gold on his breast. His heart warmed to
the touch. It seemed like a greeting of love and trust to one who had
journeyed long in loneliness and perplexity, fighting with his own
doubts and fears, and following a light that was veiled in clouds.

"Might not this child have been the promised Prince?" he asked within
himself, as he touched its soft cheek. "Kings have been born ere now in