papa!"
"It might, Daisy. Thebes is vastly older."
"But, papa, - don't you remember, there was not one stone ofall those buildings to be left upon another stone. Nothing isleft - only some of the foundation wall that supported thefloor, or the platform, of the Temple."
"Well, we shall see, when we go to Jerusalem," my father said.
In the meantime we went out and took a great walk about theenvirons of Joppa. Through the miles of gardens; the grandorange groves, and pomegranate, lemon, fig, apricot and palmorchards. The oranges and lemons getting their great harvestsready; cultivation going on beneath the trees; the water-wheels working; the curious hedges of prickly pear, four andsix feet high, reminding us all the while, if nothing elsedid, that we were in a very strange land. What endless delightit was! The weather had just cleared the day before; and to-day, the fifteenth of January, the sun shone still and fairand warm. I saw that papa was getting good with every step,and growing interested with every hour. We went down to thebeach, and strolled along as far as the tanneries; every wavethat broke at my side seeming to sing in my ears the reminderthat it broke on the shores of Palestine. Papa wished theoranges were ripe; I wished for nothing.
Then we entered the city again, and examined the bazars;lingering first a good while to watch the motley, picturesque,strange and wild crowd without the city gate. It was my firsttaste of Oriental life; papa knew it before, but he relishedit all afresh in my enjoyment of it. Of course we were takento see Simon's house and the house where Tabitha died.
"Do you realise anything here, Daisy?" papa asked, as we stoodon the flat roof of the first of these two.
"Yes, papa."
"Pray, what? St. Peter never saw this building, my dear."
"No, papa, I don't think it. But he saw the Mediterranean -just so, - and he had the same sky over him, and the sameshores before him."
"The same sky, Daisy? What is the sky?"
"Yes papa, I know; but there is a difference. This Syrian skyis not like the sky over Florence nor like the sky overMelbourne. And this is what Peter saw."
"You are a delicious travelling companion, Daisy," said papa."Your mother is good, but you are better. Well, take me withyou now in your journey into the past."
We sat down there on the roof of the so-called house of Simon,papa and I; he gave the guide a bonus to keep him contented;and we read together chapters in the Old Testament andchapters in the New. It was drinking water from wells ofdelight. Bible words never seemed so real, nor so full. Andthen when I thought that I was going on to Jerusalem - toJericho - to Mount Tabor, and the Sea of Galilee, and Lebanon,- that Joppa was only the beginning, - I could hardly containmy joy. I could only give thanks for it all the time. True, Idid remember, as I looked over that bright sea of the Levant,I did remember that far away there was a region of conflictwhere the interests nearest to me were involved; a strifegoing on, in which the best blood in the world, the dearest inmy account, might be shed or shedding. I remembered it all.But the burden of that care was too heavy for me to carry; Iwas fain to lay it down where so many a load has been laidbefore now; and it was easier for me to do it in Syria thananywhere else; God's own land, where His people had had somany tokens to trust Him. Where Peter's doubts of consciencewere resolved by a vision, where the poor worker of kindnesswas raised from the sleep of death, it was not there the placefor me to doubt whether the Lord looked upon my trouble, orwhether he cared about it, or whether he could manage it. Ilaid care and doubt to sleep; and while I was in the Lord'sland I walked with the Lord's presence always before me. Thereis no want to them that fear him.
We were detained at Joppa three days by a most pouring rain,which kept us fast prisoners in doors. The time was howevernot lost. We had despaired of making arrangements at Joppa forour journey, any further than such as would take us toJerusalem. Joppa is no place for such arrangements. But whilewe waited there in the rain, a party of English people arrivedwho came to take the steamer for home. They had just endedtheir travels in the Holy Land; and while waiting for thesteamer, one of them who was an invalid sought the shelter ofour hotel. We came to know each other. And the end was, wesecured their travelling equipment. Tents, servants and all,were made over to papa, with mutual pleasure at thearrangement. So when the sun shone out on the fourth day, wewere ready to start in great comfort. I had a dear littleSyrian pony, which carried me nicely through my whole journey;papa had another that served him well. The tents and tentfittings were in the English style of perfection; cook andinterpreter and other servants knew their business, and we hadno reason to complain of them from the beginning to the end ofour tour. Moreover, in those days of waiting at Joppa, andintercourse with the ladies of the party, I got from them someuseful hints and details which were of great service to meafterwards. I had always wished to go through Palestine livingin our own tents; papa had been a little uncertain how hewould do. Now it was settled. I had my maid, of course; butshe was the greatest trouble I had, all the way.
The morning of our setting out from Joppa is never to beforgotten. It was clear and balmy. For miles we rode throughthe orange gardens, getting ready fast for their superbharvest, which would be ripe a month later. Then through apleasant open country; - cornfields and meadows interspersedwith trees in patches. It was easy riding, and I liked mypony, and my heart was full of exhilaration.
"Well?" said papa, as my eye met his one time in the course ofits wanderings.
"Papa, it is the plain of Sharon!"
"You speak as if it were a place where you had played, whenyou were a child."
"Papa, in some measure it is like that; so often I have readabout the old things that were done here."
Papa smiled at me? and asked what? But I could not tell himwhile we were going at a canter.
"It would be pretty in spring," he said. "Where are we to stopto-night, Daisy? I have left all that to you. I do not knowthe country as you do."
"Papa, we set off so late, we shall not be able to get furtherthan Latron to-night."
"What place is that? is it any place?"
"Supposed to be the Modin of the Maccabees."
"Have you brought any books, Daisy?" was papa's next question.
"No, papa, except 'Murray' and the Bible."
"We ought to have more," he said. "We must see if we cannotsupply that want at Jerusalem."
Papa's interest in the subject was thoroughly waking up. Welunched at Ramleh. How present it is to me, those hours wespent there. The olive groves and orchards and cornfields, thepalms and figs, the prickly-pear hedges, the sweet breath ofthe air. And after our luncheon we stayed to examine the ruinsand the minaret. Our master of ceremonies, Suleiman, was alittle impatient. But we got off in good time and reached ourcamping ground just before sunset. Tiere too, the sunlightflashing on those rocks of ruin comes back to me, and the wideplain and sea view which the little hill commands. Papa and Iclimbed it to look at the ruins and see the view while dinnerwas getting ready.
"What is it, Daisy?" he said. "You must be my gazetteer andinterpreter for the land; Suleiman will do for the people."
"It is an old Crusaders' fortress, papa; built to command thepass to Jerusalem."
That was enough for papa. He pored over the rough remains andtheir associations; while I sat down on a stone and lookedover the Philistine plain; scarce able to convince myself thatI was so happy as to see it in reality. Papa and I had a mostenjoyable dinner afterwards; he enjoyed it, I knew; and ournight's rest was sweet, with a faint echo of the war storms ofthe ages breaking upon my ear.
To my great joy, there was no storm of the elements the nextmorning, and we were able to take up our march for Jerusalem.The road soon was among the hills; rough, thickety, wild; fromone glen into another, down and up steep ridge sides, alwaysmounting of course by degrees. Rough as it all was, there wereolives and vineyards sometimes to be seen; often terracedhillsides which spoke of what had been. At last we came up outof a deep glen and saw at a distance the white line of wallwhich tells
of Jerusalem. I believe it was a dreary piece ofcountry which lay between, but I could hardly know what itwas. My thoughts were fixed on that white wall. I forgot evenpapa.
We had pouring rains again soon after we got to Jerusalem. Iwas half glad. So much to see and think of at once, it wasalmost a relief to be obliged to take things gradually. I hadbeen given numerous good bits of counsel by the kind Englishladies we had seen at Jaffa; and according to their advice, Ipersuaded papa that we should go down at once to Jericho andthe Dead Sea, without waiting till the weather should grow toohot for it; then Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives and all theneighbourhood would be delightful. Now, they were very grayand forlorn to a stranger's eye. I wanted papa to be pleased._I_ could have enjoyed Jerusalem at any time. But I knew