Phineas, who had been His earliest friend and playfellow, would he not be lifted to the right hand of power? Through him, then, lay the royal road to revenge.
The thought lifted him unconsciously to his feet. He stood with his arms out-stretched in the direction of the far-away Temple, like some young prophet. David's cry of triumph rose to his lips: "Thou hast girded me with strength unto the battle," he murmured. "Thou hast also given me the necks of mine enemies, that I might destroy them that hate me!"
A sweet baby voice at the foot of the steps brought him suddenly down from the height of his intense feeling.
"Joel! Joel!" called little Ruth, "where is you?"
Then Jesse's voice added, "We're all a-coming up for you to tell us a story."
Up the stairs they swarmed to the roof, the carpenter's children and half-a-dozen of their little playmates.
Joel, with his head still in the clouds, told them of a mighty king who was coming to slay all other kings, and change all tears--the waters of affliction--into the red wine of joy.
"H'm! I don't think much of that story," said Jesse, with out-spoken candor. "I'd rather hear about Goliath, or the bears that ate up the forty children."
But Joel was in no mood for such stories, just then. On some slight pretext he escaped from his exacting audience, and went down to the sea-shore. Here, skipping stones across the water, or writing idly in the sand, he was free to go on with his fascinating day-dreams.
For the next two weeks the boy gave up work entirely. He haunted the toll-gates and public streets, hoping to hear some startling news from Jerusalem. He was so full of the thought that some great revolution was about to take place, that he could not understand how people could be so indifferent. All on fire with the belief that this man of Nazareth was the one in whom lay the nation's hope, he looked and longed for the return of Phineas, that he might learn more of Him.
But Phineas had little to tell when he came back. He had met his friend twice in Jerusalem,--the same gentle quiet man he had always known, making no claims, working no wonders. Phineas had heard of His driving the moneychangers out of the Temple one day, and those who sold doves in its sacred courts, although he had not witnessed the scene.