'As you are an Israelite,' he said,
'stay, for I have a strange story to tell.' The emphasis on the
word Israelite excited my curiosity. I remained, and this is
in substance his story--I cut it short because we are drawing
nigh the tent, and I leave the details to the good man himself.
A good many years ago, three men called at Ilderim's tent out
in the wilderness. They were all foreigners, a Hindoo, a Greek,
and an Egyptian; and they had come on camels, the largest he had
ever seen, and all white. He welcomed them, and gave them rest.
Next morning they arose and prayed a prayer new to the sheik--a
prayer addressed to God and his son--this with much mystery besides.
After breaking fast with him, the Egyptian told who they were,
and whence they had come. Each had seen a star, out of which
a voice had bidden them go to Jerusalem and ask, Where is he
that is born King of the Jews?' They obeyed. From Jerusalem they
were led by a star to Bethlehem, where, in a cave, they found a
child newly born, which they fell down and worshipped; and after
worshipping it, and giving it costly presents, and bearing witness
of what it was, they took to their camels, and fled without pause to
the sheik, because if Herod--meaning him surnamed the Great--could
lay hands upon them, he would certainly kill them. And, faithful to
his habit, the sheik took care of them, and kept them concealed for
a year, when they departed, leaving with him gifts of great value,
and each going a separate way.
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