It made me shudder. The soft, plaintive chant swelled and grew
louder, as if addressed to me. It gripped my very heart. I stood
up all in a shiver, and started to walk in the direction of the
sound. But around me, up and down, on every side, was total
darkness. The moon had set long ago. I moved away only a few steps
from the horses, and could not make them out any more. By and by I
could distinguish some words, and I recognized the heart-gripping
chant of a Hebrew Psalm. . . .

"For the Lord knoweth the path of the righteous,
And the path of the wicked shall perish." . . .

My fears vanished, and gave place to a feeling of surprise.

"Where can that chanting come from," thought I, "and here in exile,
too?"

Then I began to doubt it all, thinking it was but a dream.

"Why do the nations rage,
And the peoples imagine a vain thing?"

The voices were drawing me forward irresistibly, and I decided to
join the chorus, come what might. And I continued the Psalm in a
loud voice:

"The kings of the earth stood up . . . . "

The chanting ceased; I heard steps approaching me.