and facing the sunrise, hung a second curtain or veil of fine linen richly embroidered in blue and scarlet, purple and flax. These colors were meant to be an image of the world. The scarlet represented fire, the flax earth, the blue sky, and the purple sea. Along the wall ran golden vines and clusters of the grape, the typical plant of Israel.

All this Naomi could picture perfectly so often had she heard it described, but she saw it with the eye of her mind only, for the women of Israel had a court set apart for them many flights below the Temple building itself and at the east of the men's Court of the Israelites, as it was called.

Martha stood at the little girl's elbow, gazing about, too, but not with the same eager interest that Naomi showed, since a visit to the Temple was no great rarity to her.

"Thou shouldst see the Temple at Passover, Naomi," she murmured; "the crowds of people, and the priests at sunrise upon the walls blowing a thousand silver trumpets, and the long procession in the streets carrying the lambs for the offering."

"Father hath promised to bring us all next Passover," Naomi answered happily. "But now I long mightily to see the great Altar of Burnt Offering in the Court of the Priests. It is made of unhewn stone, Ezra says, and there, too, stands the bronze basin where the priests wash hands and feet before entering the Holy Place. Ezra has learned all about it at school. I long to see it."

Little Martha shook her head.

"Nay," she murmured reprovingly, "that is not a sight for me and thee. I have seen the smoke rising—that is all."

Naomi stared up at the great group of buildings—courts, halls, cloisters, terraces, and walls, topped by the splendid golden front of the Holy Place, in silent awe.

"If once I should lose sight of Aunt Miriam," she thought, "I might wander about here for days and days and never find her again."

And she took such a firm hold upon her aunt's cloak that she, feeling the tug, thought the little girl was impatient to move on.

"Yes, child, yes," said she. "We go down now into the Court of the Gentiles. Do thou and little Martha walk on ahead. Pick thy way carefully, for this flight of steps is steep."

The Court of the Gentiles was open to the men of all nations, since it was not strictly a part of the Temple. It was a sort of sacred market-place, and Naomi and little Martha, as they walked about, held tight to one another when they passed the pens of sheep and oxen destined to be burnt offerings, and which were restlessly shouldering one another and lowing and bleating as if in some way they sensed their approaching doom. Here the seller of doves and pigeons kept his cotes, for many a worshiper could not afford to buy a kid or a lamb. Here, too, were the booths and stalls of the moneychangers who did a brisk trade, since no coin might be offered in the Temple save the sacred shekel.

"Art thou ready at last to leave the Temple, child?" asked Aunt Miriam, coming up behind Naomi as she stood gazing in at a penful of young lambs. "Wilt thou be able to tell all this to Ezra, think you?"

Naomi nodded slowly. She was not listening to what her aunt said. She was wondering why at times the sheep looked so strangely blurred, and why little black specks seemed to dance before her eyes.

"Over there is a little lamb that looks like my Three Legs, Aunt Miriam," said she. "I am glad he is not here, shut up in one of these great pens, and to die, perhaps, before another day."

She moved listlessly along, and when her aunt took her hand she clung to her so heavily that good Aunt Miriam stopped short on the side of the hill.

"What ails thee, child?" said she, bending over Naomi. "Thou art not like thyself. Thine eyes look strangely heavy, even like those of little Three Legs. Art thou ill?"

"Nay," said Naomi crossly. Surely to have sudden pains shoot through one's eyes was not to be ill. "I would see the gardens of King Herod. That is what I want."

"The child is weary," said little Martha's mother kindly. "She has had a long journey to-day besides this visit to the Temple. The gardens of King Herod will wait for thee, Naomi, until another time when thou art rested. They will not run away."

But Naomi would not smile at this little joke. She pulled pettishly away when good friend Anna placed her hand upon her forehead to see if she were feverish.

"I would see the gardens of King Herod," she repeated plaintively, rubbing her eyes as she spoke. "Ezra saw them, with rivers and flowers and fountains. He saw doves and pigeons flying through the air. He saw a great beast that spouted water from its mouth, and I would fain see it, too."

The magnificent gardens of the King of Judea were open all day long to any one who wished to enter and enjoy their beauty, their coolness, and their shade. Canals flowed between green banks, flowers bloomed and trees rustled, fountains played in the sunlight, and tiny fish darted hither and thither in the artificial pools. But there, too, bright against the green, was to be seen the white marble of statues—nymphs, and dryads, figures symbolizing grace and beauty—and for this reason, since to him all statues were idols, no Jew would set foot within King Herod's garden.

All that Naomi could hope to do, beside gazing at the three famous castles of white marble, with their battlements and turrets, built by Herod the Great, and at his own splendid palace with its massive walls and towers, was to peep at the garden through the open gateways or perhaps from the top of the wall, as Ezra had done.

But Aunt Miriam, with sturdy common sense, had no intention of taking the weary and ailing little girl on the long trip across Cheesemonger's Valley from the Mount of the Temple to Mount Zion where the palaces stood. She beckoned to Jacob who had walked near them all the way, and when he came forward she said:

"Carry the little maid home, Jacob. She is exceedingly weary and needs a night's rest."

Naomi, without a protest, turned to Jacob and gladly hid her heavy, aching eyes upon his broad shoulder.

"I am like Three Legs," thought Naomi, as the procession moved homeward. "But then Three Legs has been sick a long, long time, and I shall be well in the morning."

CHAPTER IV

In the Dark

"MOTHER, is it sunrise yet?"

"No, Naomi, it but nears the end of the Third Watch."

"Mother, does the lamp still burn?"

"Yes, child, as always, on the table. Lie still, Naomi, and try to sleep. Thou hast a journey before thee to-day."

"Aye," said the little girl, turning restlessly on her quilt. "I know, to the Pool of Bethesda. Perhaps I shall come home with opened eyes, Mother. Perhaps I shall see when I come home to-day. Dost thou believe that the Angel of the Pool will open mine eyes?"

"Yea, child, I do believe," answered her mother earnestly. "Thou shalt see again. I hope it with all my heart."

"And then I shall help thee once more about the house," said Naomi hopefully, "and learn my lesson every day, and care for baby Jonas when thou art busy. Then I shall run and wait upon my father as of old, and he will place his hand upon my head and say, 'Naomi, thou art as quick and light upon thy feet as a young hart or doe.'