with a positive glow in his sunken eyes half arose, and said,
"Let us make haste. I am not tired."
They turned away to help the slave.
There was little conversation between the three at the stopping-place for the night west of Ramoth-Gilead.
"Let us arise early, son of Hur," said the old man.
"The Saviour may come, and we not there."
"The King cannot be far behind his herald," Iras whispered, as she prepared to take her place on the camel.
"To-morrow we will see!" Ben-Hur replied, kissing her hand.
Next day about the third hour, out of the pass through which, skirting the base of Mount Gilead, they had journeyed since leaving Ramoth, the party came upon the barren steppe east of the sacred river. Opposite them they saw the upper limit of the old palm lands of Jericho, stretching off to the hill-country of Judea. Ben-Hur’s blood ran quickly, for he knew the ford was close at hand.
"Content you, good Balthasar," he said; "we are almost there."
The driver quickened the camel's pace. Soon they caught sight of booths and tents and tethered animals; and then of the river, and a multitude collected down close by the bank, and yet another multitude on the western shore. Knowing that the preacher was preaching, they made greater haste; yet, as they were drawing near, suddenly there was a commotion in the mass, and it began to break up and disperse.
They were too late!
"Let us stay here," said Ben-Hur to Balthasar, who was wringing his hands. " The Nazarite may come this way."
The people were too intent upon what they had heard, and too busy in discussion, to notice the new-comers. When some hundreds were gone by, and it seemed the opportunity to so much as see the Nazarite was lost to the latter, up the river not far away they beheld a person coming towards them of such singular appearance they forgot all else.
Outwardly the man was rude and uncouth, even savage.
