And upon her knees the poor overwhelmed creature began moving forward.
"Stay, Amrah! Come not nearer. Unclean, unclean!"
The words sufficed. Amrah fell upon her face, sobbing so loud the people at the well heard her. Suddenly she arose upon her knees again.
"O my mistress, where is Tirzah?"
"Here I am, Amrah, here! Will you not bring me a little water?"
The habit of the servant renewed itself. Putting back the coarse hair fallen over her face, Amrah arose and went to the basket and uncovered it.
"See," she said, "here are bread and meat."
She would have spread the napkin upon the ground, but the mistress spoke again,
"Do not so, Amrah. Those yonder may stone you, and refuse us drink. Leave the basket with me. Take up the jar and fill it, and bring it here. We will carry them to the tomb with us. For this day you will then have rendered all the service that is lawful. Haste, Amrah."
The people under whose eyes all this had passed made way for the servant, and even helped her fill the jar, so piteous was the grief her countenance showed.
"Who are they?" a woman asked.
Amrah meekly answered, "They used to be good to me."
Raising the jar upon her shoulder, she hurried back. In forgetfulness, she would have gone to them, but the cry "Unclean, unclean! Beware!" arrested her. Placing the water by the basket, she stepped back, and stood off a little way.
"Thank you, Amrah," said the mistress, taking the articles into possession. "This is very good of you."
"Is there nothing more I can do?" asked Amrah.
The mother’s hand was upon the jar, and she was fevered with thirst; yet she paused, and, rising, said firmly,
"Yes, I know that Judah has come home. I saw him at the gate night before last asleep on the step. I saw you wake him."
Amrah clasped her hands.
