Thus the danger was for the time averted. But this state of suspense was intolerable, and David felt there was _but a step between him and death_. Probably by Samuel’s advice, he now obtained a secret interview with Jonathan at Ezel, a well-known stone near Gibeah. In pathetic language he poured out his whole soul to his friend, and besought him to make an effort to ascertain once for all the real feelings of his father, which he might think had undergone a change after the incidents at Naioth. The morrow was a festival of the New Moon. Saul would hold a solemn feast, and at his table would sit Abner and Jonathan, but David’s place would be vacant. The demeanour of the king on observing his absence was to be taken as an omen. If he acquiesced in Jonathan’s explanation that David was absent at a similar festival under the family roof at Bethlehem, all would be well. If he was wroth, then it would be certain that the old grudge was not healed, and that evil was determined against him. A solemn compact was then ratified between the two. Jonathan undertook to ascertain his father’s mind; David promised to shew kindness not only to Jonathan himself, but to all his posterity (1 Sam. xx. 5–10).
When this compact had been duly ratified, Jonathan suggested an expedient, whereby the news was to be made known to David. Within three days he would again repair to the “great stone” with his bow and arrows, and accompanied by a little lad. He would then shoot three arrows, as though he shot at a mark, and his words to the lad, which David would overhear, must decide the point. If he said to the lad, _Behold, the arrows are on this side of thee, take them_, then David might come forth, and know that all was well. If he said, _The arrows are beyond thee_, then he might go his way, certain that the wrath of the king could not be appeased. The day came, and David repaired to his hiding-place. In due time Jonathan and his little lad appeared, and the three arrows were shot as agreed upon, and as the lad ran to pick them up, he cried, _Is not the arrow beyond thee?_ Then David knew that he must fly, and, when the lad was gone to carry back the bow and arrows to Gibeah, rose from his hiding-place, and with passionate embraces and many tears parted from his friend, who once more commended his posterity to his care (1 Sam. xx. 35–42).