THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK ZIA BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BYSPENCER BAIRD NICHOLSANDW. T. BENDA And it came to pass nigh uponnineteen hundred and sixteen years ago THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK ZIA The little hunchback Zia toiled slowly up the steep road, keeping in thedeepest shadows, even though the night had long fallen. Sometimes hestaggered with weariness or struck his foot against a stone andsmothered his involuntary cry of pain. He was so full of terror that hewas afraid to utter a sound which might cause any traveler to glancetoward him. This he feared more than any other thing--that some man orwoman might look at him too closely. If such a one knew much and hadkeen eyes, he or she might in some way guess even at what they might notyet see. Since he had fled from the village in which his wretched short life hadbeen spent he had hidden himself in thickets and behind walls or rocksor bushes during the day, and had only come forth at night to staggeralong his way in the darkness. If he had not managed to steal some foodbefore he began his journey and if he had not found in one place somebeans dropped from a camel's feeding-bag, he would have starved. Forfive nights he had been wandering on, but in his desperate fear he hadlost count of time. When he had left the place he had called his home hehad not known where he was going or where he might hide himself in theend. The old woman with whom he had lived and for whom he had begged andlabored had driven him out with a terror as great as his own. "Begone!" she had cried in a smothered shriek. "Get thee gone, accursed!Even now thou mayest have brought the curse upon me also. A creatureborn a hunchback comes on earth with the blight of Jehovah's wrath uponhim. Go far! Go as far as thy limbs will carry thee! Let no man comenear enough to thee to see it! If thou go far away before it is known, it will be forgotten that I have harbored thee. " He had stood and looked at her in the silence of the dead, his immense, black Syrian eyes growing wider and wider with childish horror. He hadalways regarded her with slavish fear. What he was to her he did notknow; neither did he know how he had fallen into her hands. He knew onlythat he was not of her blood or of her country and that he yet seemed tohave always belonged to her. In his first memory of his existence, alittle deformed creature rolling about on the littered floor of heruncleanly hovel, he had trembled at the sound of her voice and hadobeyed it like a beaten spaniel puppy. When he had grown older he hadseen that she lived upon alms and thievery and witchlike evil doingsthat made all decent folk avoid her. She had no kinsfolk or friends, andonly such visitors as came to her in the dark hours of night and seemedto consult with her as she sat and mumbled strange incantations whileshe stirred a boiling pot. Zia had heard of soothsayers and dealers withevil spirits, and at such hours was either asleep on his pallet in a farcorner or, if he lay awake, hid his face under his wretched covering andstopped his ears. Once when she had drawn near and found his large eyesopen and staring at her in spellbound terror, she had beaten himhorribly and cast him into the storm raging outside. A strange passion in her seemed her hatred of his eyes. She could notendure that he should look at her as if he were thinking. He must notlet his eyes rest on her for more than a moment when he spoke. He mustkeep them fixed on the ground or look away from her. From his babyhoodthis had been so. A hundred times she had struck him when he was tooyoung to understand her reason. The first strange lesson he had learnedwas that she hated his eyes and was driven to fury when she found themresting innocently upon her. Before he was three years old he hadlearned this thing and had formed the habit of looking down upon theearth as he limped about. For long he thought that his eyes were ashideous as his body was distorted. In her frenzies she told him thatevil spirits looked out from them and that he was possessed of devils. Without thought of rebellion or resentment he accepted with timoroushumility, as part of his existence, her taunts at his twisted limbs. What use in rebellion or anger? With the fatalism of the East heresigned himself to that which was. He had been born a deformity, andeven his glance carried evil. This was life. He knew no other. Of hisorigin he knew nothing except that from the old woman's ramblingoutbursts he had gathered that he was of Syrian blood and a homelessoutcast. But though he had so long trained himself to look downward that it hadat last become an effort to lift his heavily lashed eyelids, there camea time when he learned that his eyes were not so hideously evil as histask-mistress had convinced him that they were. When he was only sevenyears old she sent him out to beg alms for her, and on the first day ofhis going forth she said a strange thing, the meaning of which he couldnot understand. "Go not forth with thine eyes bent downward on the dust. Lift them, andlook long at those from whom thou askest alms. Lift them and look as Isee thee look at the sky when thou knowest not I am near thee. I haveseen thee, hunchback. Gaze at the passers-by as if thou sawest theirsouls and asked help of them. " She said it with a fierce laugh of derision, but when in hisastonishment he involuntarily lifted his gaze to hers, she struck athim, her harsh laugh broken in two. "Not at me, hunchback! Not at me! At those who are ready to give!" shecried out. He had gone out stunned with amazement. He wondered so greatly that whenhe at last sat down by the roadside under a fig-tree he sat in a dream. He looked up at the blueness above him as he always did when he wasalone. His eyelids did not seem heavy when he lifted them to look at thesky. The blueness and the billows of white clouds brought rest to him, and made him forget what he was. The floating clouds were his onlyfriends. There was something--yes, there was something, he did not knowwhat. He wished he were a cloud himself, and could lose himself at lastin the blueness as the clouds did when they melted away. Surely theblueness was the something. The soft, dull pad of camel's feet approached upon the road without hishearing them. He was not roused from his absorption until the camelstopped its tread so near him that he started and looked up. It wasnecessary that he should look up a long way. He was a deformed littlechild, and the camel was a tall and splendid one, with rich trappingsand golden bells. The man it carried was dressed richly, and theexpression of his dark face was at once restless and curious. He wasbending down and staring at Zia as if he were something strange. "What dost thou see, child?" he said at last, and he spoke almost in abreathless whisper. "What art thou waiting for?" Zia stumbled to his feet and held out his bag, frightened, because hehad never begged before and did not know how, and if he did not carryback money and food, he would be horribly beaten again. "Alms! alms!" he stammered. "Master--Lord--I beg for--for her who keepsme. She is poor and old. Alms, great lord, for a woman who is old!" The man with the restless face still stared. He spoke as if unaware thathe uttered words and as if he were afraid. "The child's eyes!" he said. "I cannot pass him by! What is it? I mustnot be held back. But the unearthly beauty of his eyes!" He caught hisbreath as he spoke. And then he seemed to awaken as one strugglingagainst a spell. "What is thy name?" he asked. Zia also had lost his breath. What had the man meant when he spoke ofhis eyes? He told his name, but he could answer no further questions. He did notknow whose son he was; he had no home; of his mistress he knew only thather name was Judith and that she lived on alms. Even while he related these things he remembered his lesson, and, dropping his eyelids, fixed his gaze on the camel's feet. "Why dost thou cast thine eyes downward?" the man asked in a troubledand intense voice. Zia could not speak, being stricken with fear and the dumbness ofbewilderment. He stood quite silent, and as he lifted his eyes and letthem rest on the stranger's own, they became large with tears--big, piteous tears. "Why?" persisted the man, anxiously. "Is it because thou seest evil inmy soul?" "No, no!" sobbed Zia. "One taught me to look away because I am hideousand--my eyes--are evil. " "Evil!" said the stranger. "They have lied to thee. " He was trembling ashe spoke. "A man who has been pondering on sin dare not pass theirbeauty by. They draw him, and show him his own soul. Having seen them, Imust turn my camel's feet backward and go no farther on this road whichwas to lead me to a black deed. " He bent down, and dropped a purse intothe child's alms-bag, still staring at him and breathing hard. "Theyhave the look, " he muttered, "of eyes that might behold the Messiah. Whoknows? Who knows?" And he turned his camel's head, still shuddering alittle, and he rode away back toward the place from which he had come. There was gold in the purse he had given, and when Zia carried it backto Judith, she snatched it from him and asked him many questions. Shemade him repeat word for word all that had passed. After that he was sent out to beg day after day, and in time he vaguelyunderstood [Illustration with caption: "'Perhaps when he is a man he will be agreat soothsayer and reader of the stars'"] that the old woman had spoken falsely when she had said that evilspirits looked forth hideously from his eyes. People often said thatthey were beautiful, and gave him money because something in his gazedrew them near to him. But this was not all. At times there were thosewho spoke under their breath to one another of some wonder of light inthem, some strange luminousness which was not earthly. "He surely sees that which we cannot. Perhaps when he is a man he willbe a great soothsayer and reader of the stars, " he heard a woman whisperto a companion one day. Those who were evil were afraid to meet his gaze, and hated it as oldJudith did, though, as he was not their servant, they dared not strikehim when he lifted his soft, heavy eyelids. But Zia could not understand what people meant when they whispered abouthim or turned away fiercely. A weight was lifted from his soul when herealized that he was not as revolting as he had believed. And whenpeople spoke kindly to him he began to know something like happiness forthe first time in his life. He brought home so much in his alms-bag thatthe old woman ceased to beat him and gave him more liberty. He wasallowed to go out at night and sleep under the stars. At such times heused to lie and look up at the jeweled myriads until he felt himselfdrawn upward and floating nearer and nearer to that unknown somethingwhich he felt also in the high blueness of the day. When he first began to feel as if some mysterious ailment was creepingupon him he kept himself out of Judith's way as much as possible. Hedared not tell her that sometimes he could scarcely crawl from one placeto another. A miserable fevered weakness became his secret. As the oldwoman took no notice of him except when he brought back his day'searnings, it was easy to evade her. One morning, however, she fixed hereyes on him suddenly and keenly. "Why art thou so white?" she said, and caught him by the arm, whirlinghim toward the light. "Art thou ailing?" "No! no!" cried Zia. She held him still for a few seconds, still staring. "Thou art too white, " she said. "I will have no such whiteness. It isthe whiteness of--of an accursed thing. Get thee gone!" He went away, feeling cold and shaken. He knew he was white. One or twoalmsgivers had spoken of it, and had looked at him a little fearfully. He himself could see that the flesh of his thin body was becoming anunearthly color. Now and then he had shuddered as he looked at itbecause--because--There was one curse so horrible beyond all others thatthe strongest man would have quailed in his dread of its drawing nearhim. And he was a child, a twelve-year-old boy, a helpless littlehunchback mendicant. When he saw the first white-and-red spot upon his flesh he stood stilland stared at it, gasping, and the sweat started out upon him and rolleddown in great drops. "Jehovah!" he whispered, "God of Israel! Thy servant is but a child!" But there broke out upon him other spots, and every time he found a newone his flesh quaked, and he could not help looking at it in secretagain and again. Every time he looked it was because he hoped it mighthave faded away. But no spot faded away, and the skin on the palms ofhis hands began to be rough and cracked and to show spots also. In a cave on a hillside near the road where he sat and begged therelived a deathly being who, with face swathed in linen and with bandagedstumps of limbs, hobbled forth now and then, and came down to beg also, but always keeping at a distance from all human creatures, and, as heapproached the pitiful, rattled loudly his wooden clappers, wailing out:"Unclean! Unclean!" It was the leper Berias, whose hopeless tale of awful days was almostdone. Zia himself had sometimes limped up the hillside and laid some ofhis own poor food upon a stone near his cave so that he might find it. One day he had also taken a branch of almond-blossom in full flower, andhad laid it by the food. And when he had gone away and stood at somedistance watching to see the poor ghost come forth to take what he hadgiven, he had seen him first clutch at the blossoming branch and fallupon his face, holding it to his breast, a white, bound, shapelessthing, sobbing, and uttering hoarse, croaking, unhuman cries. Noalmsgiver but Zia had ever dreamed of bringing a flower to him who wasforever cut off from all bloom and loveliness. It was this white, shuddering creature that Zia remembered with the sickchill of horror when he saw the spots. "Unclean! Unclean!" he heard the cracked voice cry to the sound of thewooden clappers. "Unclean! Unclean!" Judith was standing at the door of her hovel one morning when Zia wasgoing forth for the day. He had fearfully been aware that for days shehad been watching him as he had never known her to watch him before. This morning she had followed him to the door, and had held him there afew moments in the light with some harsh speech, keeping her eyes fixedon him the while. Even as they so stood there fell upon the clear air of the morning ahollow, far-off sound--the sound of wooden clappers rattled together, and the hopeless crying of two words, "Unclean! Unclean!" Then silence fell. Upon Zia descended a fear beyond all power of wordsto utter. In his quaking young torment he lifted his eyes and met thegaze of the old woman as it flamed down upon him. "Go within!" she commanded suddenly, and pointed to the wretched roominside. He obeyed her, and she followed him, closing the door behindthem. "Tear off thy garment!" she ordered. "Strip thyself to thy skin--to thyskin!" He shook from head to foot, his trembling hands almost refusing to obeyhim. She did not touch him, but stood apart, glaring. His garments fellfrom him and lay in a heap at his feet, and he stood among them naked. One look, and she broke forth, shaking with fear herself, into abreathless storm of fury. "Thou hast known this thing and hidden it!" she raved. "Leper! Leper!Accursed hunchback thing!" As he stood in his nakedness and sobbed great, heavy childish sobs, shedid not dare to strike him, and raged the more. If it were known that she had harbored him, the priests would be uponher, and all that she had would be taken from her and burned. She wouldnot even let him put his clothes on in her house. "Take thy rags and begone in thy nakedness! Clothe thyself on thehillside! Let none see thee until thou art far away! Rot as thou wilt, but dare not to name me! Begone! begone! begone!" And with his rags he fled naked through the doorway, and hid himself inthe little wood beyond. Later, as he went on his way, he had hidden himself in the daytimebehind bushes by the wayside or off the road; he had crouched behindrocks and boulders; he had slept in caves when he had found them; he hadshrunk away from all human sight. He knew it could not be long before hewould be discovered, and then he would be shut up; and afterward hewould be as Berias until he died alone. Like unto Berias! To him itseemed as though surely never child had sobbed before as he sobbed, lying hidden behind his boulders, among his bushes, on the bare hillamong the rocks. For the first four nights of his wandering he had not known where he wasgoing, but on this fifth night he discovered. He was on the way toBethlehem--beautiful little Bethlehem curving on the crest of theJudean mountains and smiling down upon the fairness of the fairest ofsweet valleys, rich with vines and figs and olives and almond-trees. Hedimly recalled stories he had overheard of its loveliness, and when hefound that he had wandered unknowingly toward it, he was aware of afaint sense of peace. He had seen nothing of any other part of the worldthan the poor village outside which the hovel of his bond-mistress hadclung to a low hill. Since he was near it, he vaguely desired to seeBethlehem. He had learned of its nearness as he lay hidden in the undergrowth onthe mountain-side that he had begun to climb the night before. Awakeningfrom sleep, he had heard many feet passing up the climbing road--thefeet of men and women and children, of camels and asses, and all hadseemed to be of a procession ascending the mountainside. Lying flat uponthe earth, he had parted the bushes cautiously, and watched, andlistened to the shouts, cries, laughter, and talk of those who were nearenough to be heard. So bit by bit he had heard the story of the passingthrong. The great Emperor Augustus, who, to the common herd seemed somestrange omnipotent in his remote and sumptuous paradise of Rome, had issued a decree that all the world of his subjects should beenrolled, and every man, woman, and child must enroll himself in his owncity. And to the little town of Bethlehem all these travelers werewending their way, to the place of their nativity, in obedience to thegreat Caesar's command. All through the day he watched them--men and women and children whobelonged to one another, who rode together on their beasts, or walkedtogether hand in hand. Women on camels or asses held their little onesin their arms, or walked with the youngest slung on their backs. Heheard boys laugh and talk with their fathers--boys of his own age, whotrudged merrily along, and now and again ran forward, shouting withglee. He saw more than one strong man swing his child up to his shoulderand bear him along as if he found joy in his burden. Boy and girlcompanions played as they went and made holiday of their journey; youngmen or women who were friends, lovers, or brothers and sisters bore oneanother company. "No one is alone, " said Zia, twisting his thin fingers together--"noone! no one! And there are no lepers. The great Caesar would not count aleper. Perhaps, if he saw one, he would command him to be put to death. " And then he writhed upon the grass and sobbed again, his bent chestalmost bursting with his efforts to make no sound. He had always beenalone--always, always; but this loneliness was such as no young humanthing could bear. He was no longer alive; he was no longer a humanbeing. Unclean! Unclean! Unclean! At last he slept, exhausted, and past his piteous, prostrate childhoodand helplessness the slow procession wound its way up the mountain roadtoward the crescent of Bethlehem, knowing nothing of his nearness to itsunburdened comfort and simple peace. When he awakened, the night had fallen, and he opened his eyes upon ahigh vault of blue velvet darkness strewn with great stars. He saw thisat the first moment of his consciousness; then he realized that therewas no longer to be heard the sound either of passing hoofs or treadingfeet. The travelers who had gone by during the day had probably reachedtheir journey's end, and gone to rest in their tents, or had foundrefuge in the inclosing khan that gave shelter to wayfarers and theirbeasts of burden. But though there was no human creature near, and no sound of human voiceor human tread, a strange change had taken place in him. His lonelinesshad passed away, and left him lying still and calm as though it hadnever existed, as though the crushed and broken child who had plungedfrom a precipice of woe into deadly, exhausted sleep was only a vaguememory of a creature in a dark past dream. Had it been himself? Lying upon his back, seeing only the immensity ofthe deep blue above him and the greatness of the stars, he scarcelydared to draw breath lest he should arouse himself to new anguish. Ithad not been he who had so suffered; surely it had been another Zia. What had come upon him, what had come upon the world? All was so stillthat it was as if the earth waited--as if it waited to hear some wordthat would be spoken out of the great space in which it hung. He was nothungry or cold or tired. It was as if he had never staggered andstumbled up the mountain path and dropped shuddering, to hide behind thebushes before the daylight came and men could see his white face. Surelyhe had rested long. He had never felt like this before, and he had neverseen so wonderful a night. The stars had never been so many and solarge. What made them so soft and brilliant that each one was almostlike a sun? And he strangely felt that each looked down at him as if itsaid the word, though he did not know what the word was. Why had he beenso terror-stricken? Why had he been so wretched? There were no lepers;there were no hunchbacks. There was only Zia, and he was at peace, andakin to the stars that looked down. How heavenly still the waiting world was, how heavenly still! He lay andsmiled and smiled; perhaps he lay so for an hour. Then high, high abovehe saw, or thought he saw, in the remoteness of the vault of blue abrilliant whiteness float. Was it a strange snowy cloud or was hedreaming? It seemed to grow whiter, more brilliant. His breath camefast, and his heart beat trembling in his breast, because he had neverseen clouds so strangely, purely brilliant. There was another, higher, farther distant, and yet more dazzling still. Another and another showedits radiance until at last an arch of splendor seemed to stream acrossthe sky. "It is like the glory of the ark of the covenant, " he gasped, and threwhis arm across his blinded eyes, shuddering with rapture. He could not uncover his face, and it was as he lay quaking with anunearthly joy that he first thought he heard sounds of music as remotelydistant as the lights. "Is it on earth?" he panted. "Is it on earth?" He struggled to his knees. He had heard of miracles and wonders of old, and of the past ages when the sons of God visited the earth. "Glory to God in the highest!" he stammered again and again and again. "Glory to the great Jehovah!" and he touched his forehead seven times tothe earth. Then he beheld a singular thing. When he had gone to sleep a flock ofsheep had been lying near him on the grass. The flock was still there, but something seemed to be happening to it. The creatures were awakeningfrom their sleep as if they had heard something. First one head wasraised, and then another and another and another, until every head waslifted, and every one was turned toward a certain point as if listening. What were they listening for? Zia could see nothing, though he turnedhis own face toward the climbing road and listened with them. Thefloating radiance was so increasing in the sky that at this point of themountain-side it seemed no longer to the night, and the far-away paeansheld him breathless with mysterious awe. Was the sound on earth? Wheredid it come from? Where? "Praised be Jehovah!" he heard his weak and shaking young voice quaver. Some belated travelers were coming slowly up the road. He heard an ass'sfeet and low voices. The sheep heard them also. Had they been waiting for them? They rose oneby one--the whole flock--to their feet, and turned in a body toward theapproaching sounds. Zia stood up with them. He waited also, and it was as if at this momenthis soul so lifted itself that it almost broke away from his body--almost. Around the curve an ass came slowly bearing a woman, and led by a manwho walked by his side. He was a man of sober years and walked wearily. Zia's eyes grew wide with awe and wondering as he gazed, scarcebreathing. The light upon the hillside was so softly radiant and so clear that hecould [Illustration with caption: "Zia's eyes grew wide with awe and wonderingas he gazed, scarce breathing"--Page 38] see that the woman's robe was blue and that she lifted her face to thestars as she rode. It was a young face, and pale with the pallor oflilies, and her eyes were as stars of the morning. But this was not all. A radiance shone from her pure pallor, and bordering her blue robe andveil was a faint, steady glow of light. And as she passed the standingand waiting sheep, they slowly bowed themselves upon their knees beforeher, and so knelt until she had passed by and was out of sight. Thenthey returned to their places, and slept as before. When she was gone, Zia found that he also was kneeling. He did not knowwhen his knees had bent. He was faint with ecstasy. "She goes to Bethlehem, " he heard himself say as he had heard himselfspeak before. "I, too; I, too. " He stood a moment listening to the sound of the ass's retreating feet asit grew fainter in the distance. His breath came quick and soft. Thelight had died away from the hillside, but the high-floating radianceseemed to pass to and fro in the heavens, and now and again he thoughthe heard the faint, far sound that was like music so distant that it wasas a thing heard in a dream. "Perhaps I behold visions, " he murmured. "It may be that I shall awake. " But he found himself making his way through the bushes and setting hisfeet upon the road. He must follow, he must follow. Howsoever steep thehill, he must climb to Bethlehem. But as he went on his way it did notseem steep, and he did not waver or toil as he usually did when walking. He felt no weariness or ache in his limbs, and the high radiance gentlylighted the path and dimly revealed that many white flowers he had neverseen before seemed to have sprung up by the roadside and to wave softlyto and fro, giving forth a fragrance so remote and faint, yet so clear, that it did not seem of earth. It was perhaps part of the vision. Of the distance he climbed his thought took no cognizance. There was inthis vision neither distance nor time. There was only faint radiance, far, strange sounds, and the breathing of air which made him feel anecstasy of lightness as he moved. The other Zia had traveled painfully, had stumbled and struck his feet against wayside stones. He seemed tenthousand miles, ten thousand years away. It was not he who went toBethlehem, led as if by some power invisible. To Bethlehem! ToBethlehem, where went the woman whose blue robe was bordered with a glowof fair luminousness and whose face, like an uplifted lily, softlyshone. It was she he followed, knowing no reason but that his soul wascalled. When he reached the little town and stood at last near the gateway ofthe khan in which the day-long procession of wayfarers had crowded totake refuge for the night, he knew that he would find no place among themultitude within its walls. Too many of the great Caesar's subjects hadbeen born in Bethlehem and had come back for their enrolment. The khanwas crowded to its utmost, and outside lingered many who had not beenable to gain admission and who consulted plaintively with one another asto where they might find a place to sleep, and to eat the food theycarried with them. Zia had made his way to the entrance-gate only because he knew thetravelers he had followed would seek shelter there, and that he mightchance to hear of them. He stood a little apart from the gate and waited. Something would tellhim what he must do. Almost as this thought entered his mind he heardvoices speaking near him. Two women were talking together, and soon hebegan to hear their words. "Joseph of Nazareth and Mary his wife, " one said. "Both of the line ofDavid. There was no room for them, even as there was no room for othersnot of royal lineage. To the mangers in the cave they have gone, seeingthe woman had sore need of rest. She, thou knowest--" Zia heard no more. He did not ask where the cave lay. He had not neededto ask his way to Bethlehem. That which had led him again directed hisfeet away from the entrance-gate of the khan, past the crowded court andthe long, low wall of stone within the inclosure of which the camels andasses browsed and slept, on at last to a pathway leading to the gray ofrising rocks. Beneath them was the cave, he knew, though none had toldhim so. Only a short distance, and he saw what drew him tremblingnearer. At the open entrance, through which he could see the roughmangers of stone, the heaps of fodder, and the ass munching slowly in acorner, the woman who wore the blue robe stood leaning wearily againstthe heavy wooden post. And the soft light bordering her garments set herin a frame of faint radiance and glowed in a halo about her head. "The light! the light!" cried Zia in a breathless whisper. And hecrossed his hands upon his breast. Her husband surely could not see it. He moved soberly about, unpackingthe burden the ass had carried and seeming to see naught else. He heapedstraw in a corner with care, and threw his mantle upon it. "Come, " he said. "Here thou canst rest, and I can watch by thy side. Theangels of the Lord be with thee!" The woman turned from the door andwent toward him, walking with slow steps. He gazed at her with mild, unillumined eyes. "Does he not see the light!" panted Zia. "Does he not see the light!" Soon he himself no longer saw it. Joseph of Nazareth came to the woodendoors and drew them together, and the boy stood alone on the mountain-side, trembling still, and wet with the dew of the night; but not weary, not hungered, not athirst or afraid, only quaking with wonder and joy--he, the little hunchback Zia, who had known no joy before since the hourof his birth. He sank upon the earth slowly in an exquisite peace--a peace thatthrilled his whole being as it stole over his limbs, deepening moment bymoment. His head drooped softly upon a cushion of moss. As his eyelidsfell, he saw the splendor of whiteness floating in the height of thepurple vault above him. The dawn was breaking and yet the stars had not faded away. This was histhought when his eyes first opened on a great one, greater than anyother in the sky, and of so pure a brilliance that it seemed as if eventhe sun would not be bright enough to put it out. It hung high in thepaling blue, high as the white radiance; and as he lay and gazed, hethought it surely moved. What new star was it that in that one night hadbeen born? He had watched the stars through so many desolate hours thathe knew each great one as a friend, and this one he had never seenbefore. The morning was cold, and his clothes were wet with dew, but he felt nochill. He remembered; yes, he remembered. If he had lived in a visionthe day before, he was surely living in one yet. The Zia who had beenstarved and beaten and driven out naked into the world, who had clutchedhis thin breast and sobbed, writhing upon the earth, where was he? Helooked down upon his hands and saw the cracked and scaling palms, and itwas as though they were not. He thrust back the covering from his chestand saw the spots there. But there were no lepers, there were nohunchbacks; there were only Zia and the light. He knelt and turnedhimself toward the cave and prayed, and as he so knelt and prayed theman Joseph rolled open the heavy wooden door. Then Zia, still kneeling, beat himself softly upon the breast and prayedagain, not as before to Jehovah, but to that which he beheld. The light was there, fair, radiant, wonderful. The cave was bathed init. The woman in the blue robe sat upon the straw, and in her arms sheheld a new-born child. Zia touched his forehead to the earth again, again, again, unknowing that he did so. The child was the light itself! He must rise and draw near. That which had drawn him up the mountainsidedrew him again. The child was the light itself! As he crept near thecave's entrance, the woman's eyes rested upon him soft and wonderful. She spoke to him--she spoke! "Be not afraid, " she said. "Draw nigh and behold!" Her voice was not as the voice of other women; it was like her eyes, hisbody, through his blood, through every limb and fleshy atom of him, hefelt it steal--new life, warming, thrilling, wakening in his veins newlife! As he felt it, he knelt quaking with rapture even as he had stoodthe night before gazing at the light. The new-born hand lay still. He did not know how long he knelt. He did not know that the woman leanedtoward him, scarce drawing breath, her wondrous eyes resting upon him asif she waited for a sign. Even as she so gazed she beheld it, and spoke, whispering as in awed prayer: "Go forth and cleanse thy flesh in running water, " she said. "Go forth. " He moved, he rose, he stood upright--the hunchback Zia who had neverstood upright before! His body was straight, his limbs were strong. Helooked upon his hands, and there was no blemish or spot to be seen! "I am made whole!" he cried in ecstasy so wild that his boy's voice rangand echoed in the cave's hollowed roof. "I am made whole!" "Go forth, " she said softly. "Go forth and give praise. " He turned and went into the dawning day. He stood swaying, and heardhimself sob forth a rapturous cry of prayer. His flesh was fresh andpure; he stood erect and tall. He was as others whom God had not cursed. The light! the light! He stretched forth his arms to the morning sky. Some shepherds roughly clothed in the skins of lambs and kids wereclimbing the hill toward the cave. They carried their crooks, and theytalked eagerly as though in wonderment at some strange thing which hadbefallen them, looking up at the heavens, and one pointed with hiscrook. "Surely it draws nearer, the star!" he said. "Look!" As they passed a thicket where a brook flowed through the trees a fairboy came forth, cleansed, fresh, and radiant as if he had but justbathed in its clear waters. It was the boy Zia. "Who is this one?" said the oldest shepherd. "How beautiful he is! How the light shines on him! He looks like a king'sson. " [Illustration with caption: "'How beautiful he is!'"--Page 54] And as they passed, they made obeisance to him.