seeking for a landmark. He was leaning forward to peer again, but suddenly straightened his body and listened.
Far down in the valley a solitary dog howled. But the old man's ear had caught another sound, that came from the track, not far in front.
Cling—cling—clink! Cling—clink!
It was the sound of hammering; of stone on metal.
Cling—cling—clink!
He stepped forward briskly, rounded an angle of rock, and found himself face to face with a man—as well as he could see, a tall man—standing upright by a heap of stones on the left edge of the path.
"May it be well with you, my son: and with every man who repairs a path for the traveller. But tell me if the way be unsafe hereabouts? For my eyes are very dim, and it is now many years since last I came over the hills to Shunem."
The man did not reply.
"So many years that for nigh upon an hour I have been saying, 'Surely here should Shunem come in sight—or here—its white walls among the oaks below—the house of Miriam of Shunem. But I forget the curtain on my eyes, and the oaks will have grown tall."
Still there came no answer. Slightly nettled, the old man went on—
"My son, it is said 'To return a word before
