3521 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 K S A 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS ELANCHARD
 
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 NO ROOM IN TftE INN
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 THE SONG OF OUR SYRIAN GUEST 
 
 THE LOVE WATCH 
 
 SAINT ABIGAIL OF THE PINES 
 
 THE SIGNS IN THE CHRISTMAS FIRE 
 
 THE SHEPHERD OF JEBEL NUR 
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN
 
 SHE LAID HIM IN A MANGER
 
 NO ROOM IN 
 THE INN 
 
 BY 
 WILLIAM ALLEN KNIGHT 
 
 Author of 
 " The Song of Our Syrian Guest," etc. 
 
 J~ 
 
 (( 
 
 THE PILGRIM PRESS 
 BOSTON HEW YORK CHICAGO
 
 Copyright, 19 10 
 By William Allen Knight 
 
 Entered at Stationers Hall, London 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published September i, 1910 
 
 THE PLIMPTON -PRESS 
 
 [WD-O] 
 NORWOOD -MASS- U S A
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. Along a Bridle-path I 
 
 II. Around a Camp-fire 7 
 
 III. Our Dragoman s Secret 22 
 
 IV. A Woman of Bethlehem 39 
 
 V. Bethlehem and the Prince 5* 
 
 1003030
 
 NO ROOM IN 
 THE INN 
 
 
 I. ALONG A BRIDLE-PATH 
 
 WHEN shall I forget that night by the cook s 
 fire in camp at Nablus! 
 We had ridden all day in the glare of 
 the Syrian sun, ridden on and on wher 
 ever the bridle-path found a way over plain and hill, 
 until nightfall sent a quick chill through our weary 
 bones. But at last we heard the voice of the stream 
 that welcomes travelers where the path from Galilee 
 emerges on the highway. So in good heart we rode 
 for the lights of Nablus shining dimly through smoke 
 in the valley, while Ebal and Gerizim loomed hugely 
 in the dark on either hand. And then, supper being 
 ended, and the night wind mist-laden, and the cook a 
 friendly soul, we lounged hi a tent snug with the 
 warmth of a charcoal fire and sundry savory odors, 
 while our cot-tents waited in a spectral group outside, 
 and dogs barked at the rising moon. 
 
 But better even than such creature-comfort after 
 a long day s riding is the talk of that night hi my 
 memory. 
 
 There were four of us Maloof and I, the mule 
 teer listening by the door and baring his white teeth 
 with half understanding smiles between naps, and
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 the old Arab cook. One who had shared this and many 
 another day with me was already dreaming in her 
 white tent out in the moonlight. We had been in 
 our saddles some thirty miles since morning, and in 
 those parts that is like fifty over a Christian highway 
 
 - yes, more than fifty. For the thin bridle-path we 
 had followed seemed, notwithstanding its venerable 
 age, to sport with us like a boy in the game of " fox 
 and hounds." More than once it suddenly vanished 
 in a newly plowed patch on some plain. Then it 
 reappeared and ran, zigzag or winding, through a 
 brook s bed, up or down a ravine, along a shelving 
 trail around rocky hilltops, and at last tangled itself 
 among numberless other paths on a steep slope be 
 yond, with nothing that I could see to show whether 
 we should go this way or that. 
 
 But Maloof, good dragoman that he was, always 
 singled out the rover for us with the ease of instinct. 
 When I asked how he knew our way among so many, 
 he only laughed quietly. He was ever sparing of 
 words when we spoke in his praise. "It is of your 
 kindness that you say so," or some such phrase, was 
 all he ever said. Nevertheless, I saw the shine of a 
 tear once when he made this reply, after bringing us 
 to safe shelter out of a storm; and that told more 
 than many words. 
 
 Poor fellow, he had need of cheering speech now 
 and then, no doubt; for he had neither wife nor child 
 
 - so he let me understand once when I ventured to 
 ask neither wife nor child to stay his manhood 
 with joy in his skill, and he had been traveling these 
 lonely paths for years. Yet he knew the tender
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 3 
 
 meanings of such relationships, as you shall see 
 presently, knew them somehow, as many men whose 
 lives are securely bound therein do not. 
 
 Such a path often puzzled our hardy little horses 
 to find footing. More than once it sent the long- 
 eared donkey rambling off with his pack of luggage, 
 patient and alone, until the muleteer missed him 
 and set up a babel of guttural cries, or the little fellow 
 stopped in mute disgust. But for the most part our 
 poor beasts had scant help from us as they footed 
 the rocky way. For the Syrian sun makes an Arab 
 doze and a white man dream. But I was kept awake 
 watching Maloof this dragoman of ours who could 
 make ruffians cower like spaniels, yet was so know 
 ing in affairs of the heart! In the dream-light of 
 that shimmering day I saw glimpses of the man which 
 set me wondering about him. 
 
 Once it was by the pool just beyond the olive 
 orchards around Lubiyeh we came up in time to 
 catch four herdsmen hi the act of pouncing on a man 
 of Nazareth, whose donkey betrayed his master by 
 refusing to budge. Maloof stepped hi with a voice 
 that quelled the uproar, drew lines on the ground with 
 his riding stick, poured out Arabic comment on the 
 same, then with a wave of his arm sent the old donkey 
 rider on his way, while the belligerents slunk back 
 and let him go. Even the donkey seemed to recog 
 nize Maloof as his superior. But what those marks 
 on the ground had to do with it all, I still wonder; 
 for our dragoman only laughed when we asked him. 
 
 Some days later Maloof showed mastery of even 
 higher order. A band of robbers? No, not exactly
 
 4 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 an affair of that class, though I have seen men lose 
 priceless possessions in similar situations. The 
 gleam of a long afternoon was softening toward twi 
 light. Our path suddenly broke away from the hills 
 and trailed over a flowered plain with no other pur 
 pose apparent than to give us a look at faces around 
 a rock-mouthed well, where Syrian girls, striding 
 lithely from their village with earthen jars on their 
 erect heads, were drawing water. And what faces 
 they were! I hope it is no disloyalty to say that not 
 a few western debutantes would exchange their own 
 tame features for some we there saw and count 
 them proud acquisitions, once they were well cleaned. 
 But, to tell the whole truth without flinching, there 
 were certain faces around that sky-covered old well 
 which were clean as well as beautiful, and conscious 
 thereof, as any man could see at a glance. I inwardly 
 thanked the wayward path for this favor, so finely 
 molded were some of those sun-browned counte 
 nances, so lustrous and warm were their full-rounded, 
 dark, and for the most part modest eyes. But the 
 manly bearing of Maloof, his genial kindness tem 
 pered with a gentleman s reserve amid these ragged 
 graces, charmed me more than their peasant beauty. 
 Once and again the bridle-path led over the very 
 door-stones in narrow lanes winding between a 
 village s mud-built hovels. Then the children and 
 an old woman or two would swarm out to babble 
 " bakshish," the ceaseless call in the East for a 
 bit of coin; but the men did not join them. No, 
 while Maloof pushed on, sitting his big native saddle 
 like a field-marshal, they only answered our greeting
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 5 
 
 with a courtesy surprising amid such squalor. " Ne- 
 harak sa eed," said we, taught by Maloof s example, 
 which is a salutation of the land "thy day be 
 happy," much like our " good day." And they, 
 tattered peasants of Palestine, answered in fuller 
 phrase, " Neharak sa eed umbarak " "thy day 
 be happy and blessed." A man seated on the ground 
 after the manner of the East would spring to his feet 
 as he said this ; and I would try in vain to show with 
 my own hand and body the grace of his response as 
 his hand lightly touched breast, lips, forehead. It 
 was as if he kissed his hand to you while it passed 
 from heart to head and he a poor peasant of the 
 fields and sheep-walks, whose sinewy legs showed 
 bare at the parting of his long, coarse cloak! 
 
 I have lingered on this scene because, as Maloof 
 told us, this courtesy was sign and token of an ancient 
 hospitality in the Holy Land which is close to the heart 
 of the tale here told. But closer still is what I saw of 
 Maloof himself, as we rode out of a village s hubbub. 
 A group of urchins were playing on the dunghill which 
 usually rises outside a village of Palestine, grown to 
 a high and dusty mound by the dumpings of centu 
 ries. They ran out beside our horses, their little bare 
 breasts showing brown and plump. Among them 
 was a mite of a girl, whose baby feet softly picked 
 their way over the stones, while her tiny hand was 
 held out winningly. Maloof smiled down at the child 
 and said in a low voice, " Look at those eyes, sir! " 
 This occurred more than once, indeed. I noticed that 
 it was always a girl-child that drew such words from 
 him. Yet, pondering on our dragoman s make-up as
 
 6 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 I was, it must be confessed that I failed then even to 
 guess that there was any significance in this beyond 
 Maloof s share in impulses common to most men. 
 
 Through such glimpses of lowly life quite forgotten 
 by the big, modern world, we had come to Nablus 
 and a captivating knowledge of our dragoman. He 
 had permitted my horse to trudge on behind most of 
 the day. For the muleteer had a habit of his class 
 which consists in creeping up now and then to whack 
 your horse astern, accompanying this well-meant 
 service with a gruntlike utterance, a certain horrify 
 ing " unnhh," raking his inward parts; all of which 
 startles the rider far more than the horse. Then he 
 fell to singing in weird, guttural quavers ! And the 
 dirge was sometimes a mile long ! 
 
 With the music of Galilee in one s ears, the sweet, 
 mellow music of its lake and hills, who would not 
 wish to listen to its still melodies without such peri 
 odic assaults, as he rides away through the silences 
 of Samaria! The muleteer understood nothing of 
 this, and innocently enough renewed his hair-raising 
 attacks in spite of all we could say. But Maloof 
 understood ! Therefore he yielded to my request 
 and let me ride far behind, only keeping a watchful 
 eye over his shoulder. 
 
 Dear Maloof ! It was a trial to you to have it so, 
 no doubt; for the way was long to Nablus, and dan 
 gerous Bedouins were in those hills. But you have 
 at least this recompense, that whenever I recall the 
 happiness of that long quiet in the saddle, your name 
 sounds hi my memory amid the musings which were 
 so sweet through its sunny hours.
 
 JOSEPH AND MARY AT JACOB S WRLL.
 
 II. AROUND A CAMP-FIRE 
 
 THE day itself was now a memory. In the 
 tent s shelter, Maloof and the cook for 
 the muleteer was silent enough now were 
 chatting in bubbling Arabic across the long 
 iron brazier wherein dying coals glowed dimly amid 
 gray ashes. The cook was squatted on a low, four- 
 legged, backless chair, much used in that country, 
 his apron of well-worn cotton making an ample re 
 pository for spoons, cups, and the like, while he 
 scraped together enough live coals now and then to 
 make his small copper pot boil one more round of 
 Turkish coffee. Maloof sat in a camp-chair, leaning 
 toward the fragrant warmth with elbows on his knees, 
 and the dark red fez which he never removed pushed 
 back from a shining forehead. 
 
 I had watched them sip the black liquid from small 
 cups without handles, watched them blow it leisurely 
 and sip it steaming hot while they talked on, watched 
 their big eyes dark as their coffee in the candle light, 
 until my own eyes were half shut and the scene 
 became all but a dream. At length Maloof glanced 
 toward the spot where I was stretched, reclining on 
 a pile of blankets which he had devised. Seeing 
 that I was still awake, he said in a quiet tone: 
 
 " Galilee is a dear land, sir, is it not? " His smile 
 showed how well he had understood why I wished 
 to ride alone through the day. Maloof was a remark-
 
 8 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 able dragoman in many respects, but most of all in 
 this, that he seemed, after years of laborious jour 
 neying through those sacred solitudes, to keep as 
 fresh a sense of their charm, as tender joy therein, 
 as one has on viewing them for the first time. I 
 found myself growing eager to account for this. It 
 is unusual hi dragomans thereabout, notwithstanding 
 their glib explanations, and is, indeed, quite beyond 
 reasonable expectation hi the ordinary working of 
 human nature. I began to suspect that some ro 
 mance of his own heart, intertwined perhaps with the 
 supreme drama of history there laid, was renewing 
 for him year after year the sanctities forever lingering 
 amid those hushed hills and valleys. It was this, 
 let me own, which roused me to talk of the day s 
 musings. Perhaps by sharing them with our drago 
 man the thoughts of his own heart would be revealed. 
 
 But, alas, the richest treasures of feeling often lose 
 their luster when they are carried into the dry air of 
 speech. They are like shells and pebbles gathered 
 by the sea, shining and rich with colors when you 
 lift them dripping with tide waters, dull and common 
 enough when borne away to be shown to other eyes. 
 Try as I did, I found myself failing to convey the 
 real delights of the day s meditations in off-hand 
 words. Maloof sat listening appreciatively, but that 
 was all. 
 
 " A dear land, indeed, is Galilee ! " said he, watch 
 ing a fading glow hi the brazier. 
 
 Then there came to mind a cherished belief of 
 mine that the supreme worth of form and what is 
 called atmosphere in language is in this, that thereby
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 9 
 
 thoughts born of feeling can be conveyed to others 
 in their native state. It is the sacred office of literary 
 art to carry the sea air and the moisture of tides with 
 the pebble and the shell that they may not lose their 
 life. The simpler the literary setting the better, if 
 only it keeps and carries the natural hues of some 
 genuine emotion. 
 
 So thinking, I was emboldened to choose a small 
 product of the day and make trial of it on Maloof. 
 
 " Would you like to hear something that has been 
 running through my mind to-day," I asked, " some 
 verses on the lake up there? " 
 
 " Oh, was that it ! " He twitched his broad shoul 
 ders in his oriental way expressive of good-natured 
 compliance. " It would be pleasant indeed." 
 
 Quickly he spoke a few words in Arabic. The cook 
 turned toward me with a silent gaze. The muleteer 
 sat open-mouthed. Maloof squared himself about, 
 crossed his legs, leaning back with hands clasped over 
 his knee, and turned his head to listen. It was a 
 hard test for my verses ; but I faced it for the sake of 
 doing all I could to kindle Maloof s memories into 
 flame. And in truth, the famous lake had so laid its 
 spell upon me, had seemed so like a thing of life 
 there among Galilee s hills because of its beauty and 
 memories, that I rather enjoyed saying over once 
 more lines which had been repeated many times to 
 the accompaniment of my saddle s rhythmic creaking. 
 The reader may possibly wish to hear them as they 
 sounded in the cook s tent.
 
 io NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 TO LAKE GALILEE 
 
 I hear you, bright waters, your murmur I hear! 
 I know why you ripple and leap at my feet 
 I, too, know the story you feign would repeat ; 
 
 But tell it again to my listening ear. 
 
 "Pis evening once more on your quiet, green hills. 
 
 Were they tinted like this in that even of yore ? 
 
 Did you press then as now on your pebble-white shore 
 To see in the sunset the folk with their ills? 
 
 And did you see Him? See the touch of His hand? 
 
 Hear the moans as they changed into cries of quick joy? 
 
 You thrill, and to speak all your powers employ 
 That wavelet enfolded my feet on the sand. 
 
 At morn, unto fishers not far from your strand, 
 In remembrance of Him I sounded the cry, 
 " Have ye caught any fish? " And I heard them reply ; 
 
 I beckoned, and straightway they rowed for the land. 
 
 I gathered some sticks and built me a fire ; 
 
 There rose from the beach its wreath of white smoke ; 
 
 Then I thought of the fish, and the bread that He broke, 
 Till my heart was aflame with a holy desire. 
 
 " Naught to eat ! Naught to eat I " Like the fishers depressed, 
 I turned ; there were passing two men of the land ; 
 And one bore a string of small fish in his hand, 
 
 The other round barley-bread cakes at his breast ! 
 
 " How oft He was known in the breaking of bread ! " 
 I mused, while the fire burned bright on the sand ; 
 " How oft when their spirits could ne er understand 
 
 His kindness disclosed what in vain He had said I " 
 
 I know that you heard Him say, " Lovest thou me?" 
 To one who stood here in that morning of yore ; 
 But a sinful man heard it to-day on your shore ! 
 
 Did you hear what he answered Him, beautiful Sea?
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN n 
 
 The sun no more watches. Gennesaret s lea, 
 The hills, e en the winds, in the dark are asleep. 
 No spot is so dear my avowal to keep : 
 
 Thou knowest I love Him who loved Galilee ! 
 
 The cook returned his eyes to the dragoman. 
 Soon, without a word, the old Mohammedan threw 
 his head back and emptied the coffee-cup held un 
 touched while he listened. Maloof, still leaning 
 back with his hands over his knee, looked at me in 
 silence. Presently a smile began to play about his 
 eyes and mouth. 
 
 "Water-music!" said he. After a moment he 
 added, " I wish you would write of the hills, also - 
 of Nazareth and the hills." 
 
 Ah, think as you may of the verses I have ventured 
 to repeat for you, friend ! They found the heart of 
 Maloof, and for that they are dear to me for that 
 and the memories of Galilee they sound. 
 
 " There is a sweet story waiting to be told out of 
 Nazareth," he went on. " It begins, I mean to say, 
 in that town ; but it runs along this very path through 
 the hills, runs on past Nablus and Jerusalem, even 
 to Bethlehem in the south." 
 
 I waited, expectant of some glimpse into his own 
 heart. 
 
 I think of it whenever I ride out of Nazareth on 
 this journey to Judea. I was a boy myself in Naza 
 reth, sir, and ah, it is a lovely story!" 
 
 What was it that he left unsaid ? That broken sen 
 tence, I fancied, might have touched the mysterious 
 cause of this man s ever fresh joy hi those paths. It 
 was an eager moment for me. That his own boy-
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 hood had been in Nazareth and was recalled as he 
 thought of the Nazarene s youth there this, at 
 least, was now disclosed. Surely there was some 
 thing unusual which made the story of the Blessed 
 Mother s journey from Nazareth, before that divine 
 boyhood began, hold such a spell over him hi his 
 late prime. For I learned long since that the holiest 
 truths of religion lose their glow hi the rub of life for 
 most men unless some alloy of common human ex 
 perience has been fused with their pure gold unless 
 some joy or sorrow has been grafted on the old tree 
 to bear fresh bloom. I could not doubt, therefore, 
 that some personal element had been blended in his 
 thought of the sacred story of old, keeping it ever 
 fresh and bright for him, and deepening through the 
 years that charm which a Christian man finds therein 
 when his heart is hi its Maytime. For such Maloof 
 was, notwithstanding his red fez and Arabic tongue, 
 though I have forgotten until now to say so. 
 
 "How shall the story begin, Maloof?" 
 
 "I have of ten thought on that, sir. Why not in 
 this manner: 
 
 "The hills that hide Nazareth in its high valley like 
 unto a nest hi the side of Jebel es Sikh had closed the 
 view of their home for two travelers journeying south 
 ward over the plain ! " 
 
 " Eiwa," said the cook, listening and gazing at 
 the dragoman. Your Arab dearly loves a tale, and 
 that is his pleasant word for "yes." Maloof con 
 tinued : 
 
 44 They looked back many times. They watched 
 the three ravines which run up through those hills 

 
 NO ROOM 
 
 to their small town, until the deep hollows became 
 like shadows on the line of highlands which rise 
 toward Jebel es Sikh. But their town they saw no 
 more, save certain houses highest up on that tall hill 
 itself which towers above it northward." 
 
 "Go on, Maloof !" said I, rising from the pile of 
 blankets and leaning toward him. 
 
 With the hush of voice and repose of face apt to 
 mark the telling of a cherished tale in any land, but 
 most of all among orientals, as if the very words were 
 stored in memory, the man s long pent but now 
 welling thoughts flowed on : 
 
 " In that hidden valley held high by the hills were 
 tender memories for them. The loves of home were 
 there ! But above all endearments common to those 
 who are set in families was this, that these two, 
 having learned to love each other, had there passed 
 through a mystery together. Even in the happiness 
 of their betrothal they had faced a surprise, a strangely 
 awakened expectancy which soon began to be a 
 reality, whispered at first by trembling maiden 
 lips, perhaps to the mother s ear, and somehow made 
 known to the lover s ; a mystery, indeed under 
 stood not by the carpenter and grievous to his upright 
 heart for a time, and understood by no man through 
 the years since then, though men have spun many 
 webs out of this secret. 
 
 "By reason of this experience the young wife, soon 
 to become a mother, rested in her good man s kindness, 
 as they now journeyed together, with joy beyond the 
 wont of women newly wed. For he had believed in 
 her and made her his wife even while her heart was
 
 I 4 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 singing its strange song, From henceforth all genera 
 tions shall call me blessed. 
 
 " So with quiet gladness they traveled on, but not 
 forgetting to gaze back many times to the hilltops 
 beyond the plain which looked down on their dear 
 Nazareth." 
 
 Maloof paused, and sat in meditation. Soon he 
 added slowly: 
 
 " It is a day s ride, for such as they, across that 
 beautiful plain, past the bare rocks of Little Hermon, 
 and the cactus groves and olive orchards of Shu- 
 nem, and the old well before you come to Jezreel. 
 But at last they entered the hills on the southern side 
 of the plain ; and the heights round their highland 
 home passed from view in the light of sunset. The 
 path became harder for her now. But the ways of 
 a good man s love were the same then as unto this 
 day, and " 
 
 He hesitated, with his features working as if moved 
 by emotion mingled with perplexity. Then he looked 
 into my eyes appealingly and said, " You see how the 
 story would run, sir." 
 
 Do you see, friend of mine reading this narrative 
 somewhere in the world? Believe, then, that he 
 who listened in the still tent that night was puzzled 
 for the right word. Maloof seemed to me to have 
 started a tale having its springs, not in the plain of 
 common knowledge through which its rivulet must 
 needs run, but instead high in the secret places of 
 his own heart, as I had hoped he would. In such a 
 case there is no telling whither the stream will wind, 
 in sight of what eternal heights or through what
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 15 
 
 valley s passing shadows and sunshine, ere it reaches 
 sea tides. 
 
 " Go on, Maloof, go on !" I said. 
 
 "Ah, but I wish that you, sir, might take up the 
 story now. I, myself, have never found words to 
 follow it on through these hills though I have 
 often thought upon it. They would journey along 
 these same hard paths, you know, hard even for 
 strong men and she, young, and great with child ! 
 They looked on the same landscape, bare now, as 
 you see, of adorning trees and much else that they 
 must have seen, yet still the same hallowed land. 
 They would meet with ways of life the likeness of 
 which we have ourselves watched in a hundred forms. 
 You must not forget that, sir, in telling the story ; for 
 changed as the people now are in race and religion 
 and the waste of centuries, their customs and traits 
 are strangely like what have ever been here. The 
 magic of the unchanging East, I mean to say, holds 
 its spell over this land. And because of that our 
 travelers must have found, according to their need, 
 the ancient ways of hospitality even as you would 
 find them now, sir, should need arise ; for the tokens 
 thereof we have seen this day." 
 
 " Eiwa, eiwa," said the cook heartily. 
 
 " But best of all, as I said, the ways of a good 
 man s love were the same then as now. Do you not 
 see what a light, what radiancy, that throws on the 
 way the story would run?" 
 
 His face shone with tenderness at these words. 
 What could be the cause of this exquisite sensitive 
 ness of his to the story of Mary and Joseph journeying
 
 16 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 from Nazareth? True, it is loved by myriads ; yet 
 the world over, so far as I had observed until now, it 
 is loved for the sequel heralded by angels and dis 
 covered by shepherds at Bethlehem, rather than the 
 prior human setting but briefly told in which our 
 dragoman evidently found a great charm. 
 
 While I pondered what to say a disturbance was 
 heard among the horses tethered in the moonlight. 
 The muleteer sprang up and ran out. Presently 
 Maloof followed him. We heard their Arabic speech 
 gurgling out in the still night. The cook and I sat 
 waiting for their return. Then it was that fortune 
 favored me. 
 
 "The dragoman loves that story, cook, doesn t 
 he? I should like to hear more of it, if we are not 
 keeping you awake too long." 
 
 " Eiwa," came the slow answer. After glancing 
 at the tent opening, he leaned toward me over the 
 brazier. "He loss hees hees " The old man s 
 arms came to his breast and his body swayed as when 
 one nestles a babe. " Eiwa ! non far hon! So - 
 de de la femme feenish ah, feenish! " 
 
 Bits of French loose many a tethered tongue in 
 Arab lands, and " finish " is a great reliance when 
 English is essayed. 
 
 "He lost his child not far from here? And its 
 mother died? When? How long ago? How 
 many years?" 
 
 The cook dropped a cup he still held into his apron, 
 and began holding up his fingers five, then the other 
 five, one hand at a time, turning watchful eyes on the 
 entrance meanwhile. Twenty fingers were raised
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 and counted; the old hands hung over his knees as 
 if innocently idle when the red fez of the dragoman 
 ducked out of the dark into the tent s dim light. 
 
 How was I to take advantage of this alluring glimpse 
 into Maloof s life ? The old man there on the brazier 
 stool, quietly scraping together one more glow of coals, 
 was now known to be an accomplice in my wish ; but 
 for some reason his manner while we were alone, to 
 gether with the confiding look stealthily turned my 
 way once and again after Maloof s return, admon 
 ished me to follow with caution the clew he had given. 
 
 There was a moment or two of voluble Arabic 
 chatter between the three men, marked by much 
 picturesque spreading of arms and uplifting of hands 
 in a way that men of the East have, though it per 
 tained to nothing more dramatic than the affair of 
 the horses, I judged. Then the dragoman seated 
 himself as before and turned to me with a smile 
 which said as plainly as words could have done, 
 " Enough of that little disturbance, sir; now to our 
 story." 
 
 "Tell me about this hospitality of which you 
 spoke," I began. 
 
 It was pleasant to see the relief in the cook s face 
 as he turned to listen. 
 
 "Our travelers," I added, "would have need of 
 that, no doubt, journeying through such country as 
 we have just left behind." 
 
 "Ah!" he answered, "I like to think how it did 
 not fail them ! You may be sure that it did not, in 
 these villages." 
 
 "Eiwa, eiwa!" The cook s voice had a tone of
 
 18 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 pleasure which we will not attribute wholly to Chris 
 tian interest. But he was a good old soul, if he was 
 a Moslem! 
 
 Then Maloof fell into rapid speech, telling how the 
 people of that land had always held themselves under 
 sacred bonds to provide for the traveler s need. He 
 had himself enjoyed proof of this time and again. 
 Indeed, they feared some calamity on themselves 
 should they fail hi this. 
 
 " They hasten to fetch water for the stranger," 
 said he, " and they bathe his hands and feet; they 
 set food before him; they bring wine; they pre 
 pare coffee; they sit around him sipping the same 
 and talking as friends ; they press him to tarry as 
 their guest." 
 
 Then, laughing and coloring in proof of a gentle 
 man s thoughts at the memory, he told how once 
 two daughters of the chief man hi the village, 
 seeing that he was very weary, took him to their 
 father s house and gently obliged him to yield and 
 let them bathe his feet hi warm water with their own 
 womanly hands ! 
 
 " And this they did," he said, suppressing his 
 merriment, " because there was no room for me in 
 the inn, as you would call it." 
 
 So it was that he told me the first I had ever 
 heard though abundant confirmation was given 
 me afterward about a quaint and altogether beau 
 tiful institution in Syrian villages, including those of 
 Palestine. "Medafeh" it is called by the villagers 
 of to-day, and great is their pride therein, for the 
 Medafeh is a guest-house belonging to the village
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 19 
 
 and set apart for the use of travelers. Each village 
 is likely to have one, and some have more than one. 
 Where tourists have not spoiled the ancient beauty 
 of it all, its hospitality is still found untarnished by 
 expectation of recompense. 
 
 " They lead you to the Medafeh," said Maloof, 
 "with kind words of welcome. One man, perhaps, 
 shows a portion of its wall, telling you that his de 
 parted father laid the stones, which are still solid, as 
 you can see ; a more aged man may point to some bit 
 of workmanship which he himself performed in his 
 youth. They presently begin to claim the privilege 
 of providing this or that for your comfort one will 
 come with food for you hi the morning; another will 
 at once bring a blanket, for he observes that the night 
 wind is cooler than usual; a third has already 
 thought of the very lamb which shall be prepared 
 for your dinner on the morrow. At last they take 
 their leave, assuring you perhaps that a watch will be 
 set while you sleep, or at least bidding you rest with 
 out fear. 
 
 "So it has been in this land from of old, for they 
 believe that a blessing is brought on their own heads 
 by such kindness to strangers. Do you not remem 
 ber how the like of this is found many times hi the 
 Holy Bible? Yes, it is a very ancient custom, this 
 hospitality of villagers. Our travelers from Nazareth 
 most certainly found its comforts open to them hi 
 their time, as, believe me, they are open even in the 
 poverty of to-day. I myself it was years ago, 
 when my need was great, sir I myself found it 
 as I tell you, not far from this spot."
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 Silence followed. The cook glanced at me anx 
 iously. Soon Maloof seemed to gather in wandering 
 thoughts. 
 
 " But better than this hospitality of villagers - 
 better to her, was her good man s kindness; no 
 doubt of that. I often think how he would cheer her 
 when she became road-weary. Indeed, sir, I have 
 a strange fondness for pondering on how he might 
 have talked to her at such times. Here at Nablus 
 you know this is old Shechem, where they surely 
 came this fancy always fills my thoughts. The 
 surroundings of Nablus are great with memories, 
 sir, here where these two mountains face each 
 other ! 
 
 " * Mary, I think of him saying, * Mary, hear the 
 streams of goodly Shechem flowing! It was even 
 in this place of springs that our father Abram pitched 
 his tent by the oak of Moreh and God said to him, 
 " Unto thy seed will I give this land." 
 
 " And then, as they journeyed on, I fancy him 
 speaking again. On the morrow, wife, we shall see 
 the well which our father Jacob dug ; it is in the 
 parcel of ground which he gave to his son whose 
 name I bear. Keep good heart, dear woman, amid 
 such scenes ! 
 
 "It is just around this mountain, sir, that well 
 we shall see it in the morning and think how Mary s 
 Son sat by this very well as he journeyed. But I 
 shall think, also, of how the mother passed it before 
 his birth ! I shall hear her good man saying, There 
 it is, Mary, close by the road our father s well ! 
 Shall I bring you a cool drink? The well is deep,
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 2I 
 
 and its waters will be sweet with memories for 
 you. " 
 
 A hush had come in the tent as Maloof talked on, 
 which gave a fitting moment for such rapt thoughts. 
 The cook and the muleteer were nodding, and so heavy 
 with sleep were they that Maloof and I were as good 
 as alone. The brazier s coals had faded to gray 
 ashes. 
 
 " But it is long past time for us to turn in, sir! " 
 he said. 
 
 " And we will go on with the story in the morning 
 at Jacob s well," I answered. I took his hand as 
 we said good-night. 
 
 Oh, the stars, when I came out from that tent and 
 stood alone ! They flashed their cheer through all 
 the Syrian sky. A gleaming host thronged the 
 central heights of silence and stretched away into 
 distances where even such brightness as theirs be 
 came a dim glimmer. A mist hung low over the still 
 land land of what sorrows, what joys, what mem 
 ories ! But above the misty veil of earth, above 
 the huge shapes of Ebal and Gerizim, above the 
 night s vast gloom, shone those stars ! 
 
 Before sleep came in my tent I heard the guards 
 which Maloof had set whistle once and again whistle 
 the signal of the Arab night-watch.
 
 
 III. OUR DRAGOMAN S SECRET 
 
 IN the morning I was out for a " shem-el-howa " 
 while yet the sun was sending ground-level 
 streams of light into the valley between the two 
 mountains. You ask what a " shem-el-howa " 
 might be? That is the musical word of the Arabs 
 f or " a smell of the air." 
 
 Sweet as the breath of morning is the world over, 
 I fear that no language at my command will carry 
 across seas the fragrance of that sunrise time in 
 the hills of Samaria. But mingled with it an odor 
 was presently scented which all healthy souls will be 
 able to share with me. It was the savor of breakfast 
 hi the out-of-doors. 
 
 Peering hi where the tent-flap was thrown up, I 
 saw my old friend, the cook, turning long slices of 
 bacon, already browned, for then- final crisping. A 
 dish of white eggs, a pan crowded with cherub-faced 
 rolls, a pot eager to ease itself of steaming hot coffee, 
 were close about him. 
 
 " All ready, cook ! " said I, cheerily. " Where is 
 the dragoman? " 
 
 He looked up from the glowing brazier. His 
 hands being engaged with matters which could 
 not be dropped, even for an instant, at that junc 
 ture, and his available English failing him in the 
 emergency, he called me in by a jerk or two of 
 his head.
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 23 
 
 "He he non far non far ; he come, mon 
 sieur ! sure ! " 
 
 Little by little I gathered out of his broken speech 
 and sign-language that Maloof had gone, as he 
 always did when they came to Nablus, to the grave 
 of his wife. It was somewhere on the slope of 
 Gerizim, not far from our camp. While we break 
 fasted the old cook did his best, in response to our 
 questions, to tell the story which I had discovered the 
 evening before. When put together bit by bit it is, 
 to the best of my understanding, as I now give it. 
 
 Some twenty years before, or a little more perhaps, 
 Maloof with his young wife journeyed from Nazareth, 
 where he had grown to manhood and married, over 
 the route we were now following. They were going 
 up to Jerusalem, there to make their home. Riding 
 on the nimble-footed little animal, the donkey, which 
 one still sees everywhere in that land carrying all 
 manner of loads and ridden by all sorts of people, 
 the rough paths had proved too hard for her. 
 They stopped for a time, therefore, on reaching 
 Nablus, finding lodgment in the Medafeh, or guest 
 house. 
 
 There, somewhat before the time of their expec 
 tation, a child was born. The townsfolk, true to 
 ancient custom, were unfailing in every kindness. 
 But in those days the disorders which used to pre 
 vail in the hill country of Palestine still subjected 
 travelers to constant peril of hardship, and occa 
 sionally brought them to grief. Robbery was high 
 handed, sometimes occurring on the open road, where 
 beating the victim or even murder was a part of the
 
 24 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 day s work, sometimes perpetrated by deep-laid 
 schemes of stealth. 
 
 It was difficult, for lack of English speech on the 
 cook s part and consequent resort to much Arabic 
 pantomime, to make out precisely what happened in 
 Maloof s case. But the main facts, I think, were 
 made sufficiently clear. Let the reader judge for 
 himself. 
 
 With only chance words thrown out to help us 
 follow him, or a mongrel phrase now and then, at 
 length whispered or uttered with bated breath, and 
 meant to serve like flickering tapers in a dark passage, 
 the cook acted the narrative with true oriental vivid 
 ness. I had seen this done before, once when a 
 shepherd told me, without a word of English, how 
 he could not let me have his rod or club because of 
 the wild beasts he had to face in the hills around 
 Lake Galilee ; and I watched the cook now with some 
 confidence while the pantomime deepened and 
 darkened. 
 
 At last the old man crouched, and crept, and 
 leered ; and he gave an occasional low whistle withal. 
 It was easy to see that robbers came upon Maloof, 
 and at night. Yet what that low whistle signified was 
 for the moment quite beyond my powers of interpre 
 tation. But soon, when he had stopped as if listen 
 ing, he gave the whistle again, a double whistle, 
 quiet but distinct, then listened as before, then 
 turned his eyes with a back-gesture and whispered, 
 " Feenish, ah, feenish!" then grinned as a villain 
 might. 
 
 Suddenly I recalled how I had heard the guards 

 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 whistle round our tent that very night, and all was 
 clear. The robbers had killed the village watch set 
 to keep the Medafeh, where Maloof and the mother 
 and the babe were sleeping. They whistled that 
 the sleepers, should they wake, might think that all 
 was well. 
 
 Nodding to show that I understood, we watched 
 while the cook, abandoning speech, made a lunge 
 delivered a blow uttered a cry, a woman s cry, 
 and followed it with a man s prolonged groaning. 
 Then he made as though he grabbed for something, 
 and wrapped it about, and fled; and with that he 
 sounded a woman s scream. Then in the attitude 
 of flight he brought his arms to his breast, swaying 
 his body like one who hushes a babe, as he did the 
 night before by his brazier. 
 
 While he stood looking at me, I recalled the bare 
 scar on Maloof s head. I had noticed it once when 
 the fez which he never removed was blown off as 
 we rode in a storm. 
 
 Having come through the black depths of tragedy, 
 where his knowledge of my tongue had utterly failed 
 him indeed, does not language fail us all hi such 
 matters, though a man speak of them in the tongue 
 wherein he was born ? the old Arab laboriously 
 pieced out the tale with scraps of speech which I 
 could understand by dint of questioning. 
 
 In substance, I made out that Maloof lingered in 
 unconsciousness and then in long helplessness; that 
 the robbers made known their demand of ransom for 
 the baby girl kept in hiding ; that the villagers failed 
 in nothing through weeks of gentle care, save that
 
 26 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 their poverty and peasant impotence left the child 
 unrestored; and finally that the mother, pining for 
 her little girl and grieving over her husband, at length 
 closed her eyes and was laid by kind hands on the 
 slopes of Gerizim. 
 
 There were a number of questions with which I 
 was still eager to ply the cook, when the dragoman 
 suddenly appeared and greeted us in his cheery, 
 quiet way, making some pleasant comment on the 
 morning s beauty. You would never have guessed 
 that he had come from such a trysting-place as that 
 grave on old Gerizim s side. No, some men are 
 large enough to keep their sorrows so deeply seques 
 tered in their own broad breasts that the shadow 
 thereof does not reach face or voice to darken the 
 light that shines for others. And such a man was 
 Maloof, O friend, now thinking of him with me ! 
 The world is kept bright and sweet by the triumph 
 of such heroes. Even so earth is in deep reality the 
 ante-room of heaven ; for the joy above is the joy 
 of them that overcome. 
 
 Soon came the busy and rather merry time of 
 breaking camp, and lading the doleful donkey and 
 the muleteer s beast with our luggage, and hoisting 
 11 Madame " to her seat of state, and lastly bestrid 
 ing our own saddles Maloof and I with the zest 
 of men keen for another day s riding on fragrant hills. 
 
 I well knew what made "Madame" that is 
 Maloof s own word ride so silent beside me. I 
 have often seen her become suddenly quiet when 
 hills were in view ; but now it was not the hills 
 it was that vanished baby girl. Yet what could a
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 27 
 
 man do across twenty years ! I dismounted pres 
 ently and handed up a nosegay of white flowers 
 plucked from the roadside. 
 
 " They are star-of-Bethlehems ! " said she. 
 
 We both remembered that later, though neither of 
 us saw any significance in the name then. 
 
 " Ride by Maloof a while," she added with a voice 
 of sympathy. 
 
 I noticed that our dragoman s eyes scanned the 
 town s housetops, swept the green and gray sides of 
 Gerizim, and looked far eastward, where lay the 
 Jordan s gorge and the fastnesses still held by 
 roving Bedouins. But he spoke only of the cloudless 
 sun mounting from that wild expanse, of the beauty 
 of the vale and the slope of great Gerizim in its light. 
 
 " We shall have another fine day for riding, sir," 
 said our dragoman. 
 
 Who was I to speak of aught else to pluck a 
 single leaf from the conqueror s shining laurel by 
 mentioning a grief of long ago ! Sympathy is a pre 
 cious remedy for easing pain if it be applied when the 
 suffering is fresh; but it is apt to start new pangs 
 when a bungler ventures to make untimely use of 
 its efficacy. Therefore I did as I was told and simply 
 rode beside Maloof. And bright was our way as we 
 talked of the morning s splendor. 
 
 Ah, the beauty of this dear old earth when each new 
 day kisses its worn features and gilds them with the 
 shining of its smile ! The dews of its night-time, 
 which seem so like tears often, sparkle then and make 
 its rugged face all the more entrancing by reason of 
 the joy that has come unto it.
 
 
 28 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 Quite apart from the charm shed on all about us 
 by the triumph I was watching, which this man 
 never so much as dreamed that any eye was aware 
 of, though doubtless there is joy hi all heaven when 
 they who dwell there look down on such victories, 
 the surroundings of Nablus are picturesque to a high 
 degree. On either side Ebal and Gerizim confront 
 each other hi such nearness that from remote times 
 they who pass the spot have felt the dramatic effect 
 of these vast sundered presences. No wonder that 
 the astute leader of Israel s pioneers, keen for using 
 everything at hand to impress Jehovah s will on a 
 stiff-necked and rather prankish people, seized upon 
 these two mountains and the valley between as a 
 means of grace. Did he not command that when 
 they had passed over Jordan they should assemble 
 there, hah* on Gerizim s side and half on Ebal s ? 
 Then from the side of Gerizim was to sound the 
 blessing of the law, and over against Ebal was to be 
 heard its answering curse. And so it was, while the 
 altar of the priests sent up its smoke down in the 
 valley between. No wonder that they listened, those 
 full-veined men of Israel and their women and their 
 little ones ! Perhaps they also trembled, until hi 
 the hush that followed the ring of voices they heard 
 a still, small voice, heard it and thought of God; but 
 of that we are not told. You can shout there now for 
 yourself and find what the old sounding-board of the 
 two mountains will do with even a lone voice like 
 yours. 
 
 Streams run from numberless springs thereabout, 
 making pleasant music like the blessing, or rushing
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 in deep-toned torrents underground like the curse 
 that was and is along the paths of men. Olive or 
 chards are there, gnarled old trees with twisted coral- 
 like trunks, but lifting misty-green expanses of foliage 
 for shade and fruit for man s delight. Vineyards 
 spread their woody vines, filled with the benefactions 
 of the grape, over terraces circling far and high on 
 rocky slopes. Flowers tint the landscape every 
 where ; rocks mottle the whole shining prospect 
 with their gray hardness. The dwellings and the 
 tombs of men show out amid the fragrant greenness, 
 and alike catch the glint of the sun s shining. Over 
 all this picture of the blessing and the curse in man s 
 life hangs the canopy of such a sky as no land can 
 surpass for serene tenderness, a visible symbol of 
 the love which waits to be enjoyed and obeyed. 
 Once that love is obeyed now or ever obeyed 
 and enjoyed, then comes to pass the saying that is 
 written, " And there shall be no curse any more." 
 
 Through such a vale we rode until at its opening 
 eastward our way turned to the south around the 
 foot of Gerizim; then the town was left in its seques 
 tered nook and no more seen. Before us spread 
 the level fields which Jacob bought in the shrewd 
 thrift of long ago. The tomb of the good Joseph was 
 thereabout perhaps where they showed us a small 
 building, bearing the honor of marking the spot, 
 toward the further side of the plain, wherein a score 
 of boys sitting on a stone floor were droning the 
 Koran to their stripling schoolmaster. 
 
 Beyond that, nestled against Mount Ebal in the 
 morning s shimmer, was what is left of the town
 
 30 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 whence came the woman of Samaria across this strip 
 of ancestral land to draw water at yonder well. For 
 there it was, a little distance ahead, Jacob s well! 
 One draws near that curb with hushed voice. It is 
 one of the few spots hi Palestine where the traveler 
 can say with certainty, " I stand hi the actual foot 
 prints of the Christ." 
 
 We passed down the broken steps and entered the 
 dilapidated, fragmentary structure which covers the 
 well s mouth. A peasant, not uttering a word, began 
 lowering a tray bearing lighted candles. Slowly the 
 descending circlet of flames disclosed the masonry, 
 walls true as when their builder s hand shaped 
 them. At length we saw the glimmer of water; 
 there was a flash, a quiver of welcome as the tray 
 rested on its breast. The lowering cord was at least 
 sixty feet from hand to lights. 
 
 But even the sight of that water did not make me 
 forget to watch the face of Maloof as he bent over the 
 well hi silence. Partly with desire to know, but 
 moved also by sympathy for him, I asked, " What 
 is the depth of water?" 
 
 The dragoman began questioning the peasant hi 
 Arabic, speaking softly. 
 
 "Twelve meters when last measured," Maloof 
 announced. He said no more. 
 
 After a time we read aloud the story of the Naza- 
 rene s talk with the woman beside that well. When 
 we came to the words, "But whosoever drinketh of 
 the water that I shall give him shall never thirst ; but 
 the water that I shall give him shall become in him a 
 well of water springing up unto eternal life," I glanced 

 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 at Maloof. A smile broke over his countenance and 
 lingered, there in the murky shadows of the ruins 
 over Jacob s well. 
 
 So in good heart we took to the road that leads to 
 Jerusalem. At length Ebal and Gerizim, rising in 
 the haze between the billowy land crested in ridges 
 of high rocks, and the unruffled sky, began to wane. 
 Then we passed over a hilltop, and the region of 
 Nablus, with its charm of ancient sanctities and this 
 hitherto unheard romance of a man s heart which I 
 alone, perhaps, will always associate with it and deem 
 worthy of a place among its holy memories Nablus 
 between its two mountains passed from view. 
 
 Who that reads this narrative would have pressed 
 our dragoman to go on with the story of Mary and 
 Joseph in the environs of Nablus ? Yet, as we turned 
 that hilltop and a long slope opened into a pleasant 
 plain, I saw no reason why it might not be mentioned 
 and was pondering how to begin. 
 
 Suddenly, far ahead I saw a black line on the plain s 
 expanse. It looked like a herd of cattle at first, and 
 seemed to be moving from behind a hillock. Yes, 
 it was coming toward us. 
 
 " What have we there, Maloof? " 
 
 The dragoman was already watching the singular 
 appearance with sharp gaze. Presently he laughed 
 outright. 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Pilgrims, sir pilgrims on foot, from Jerusalem 
 to Nazareth and the lake. It is our good fortune to 
 have a look at such a sight." 
 
 Then he told how from many countries the peas- 
 
 _
 
 32 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 antry journey to the Holy Land and go in small 
 bands or in throngs from one sacred locality to an 
 other. The procession was still emerging into view 
 around the hillock. A few mounted men were dis 
 cerned riding along the line. Maloof explained that 
 consulates had learned to send guards with these 
 inexperienced people on their longer expeditions. He 
 told how these poor folk subsist on meager purchases 
 of food or innocent forage, and sleep in whatever 
 shelter can be found for so many, being aided by 
 establishments called hospices set up by those who 
 would encourage their pious excursions. He told, 
 too, how they often suffer, and related a recent inci 
 dent in which thirty odd expired in a storm on that 
 very road, most of these wayfarers being old people 
 fulfilling a hope cherished through a lifetime. 
 
 As the procession came nearer we heard them 
 singing, the poor souls ! singing while they trudged 
 on. It was a pathetic melody, rising in the spacious 
 stillness, a tune resonant with the joy of souls 
 time-worn. 
 
 u They are Russian ! " exclaimed our dragoman. 
 
 Soon they flocked along the road beside us old 
 men, with hot looking caps and beards and quilted 
 coats and high-topped boots; grandmotherly crea 
 tures with woolen skirts tucked up about bovine 
 bodies, and hoods or bonnets or head-eloths thrown 
 back from glowing faces. Drastuite ! " cried Maloof, 
 cheerily. Immediately the weary faces brightened, 
 and " Drastuite ! Drastuite! " began to sound along 
 the line, while many a toil-hardened hand or long 
 walking stick was waved in friendly response.
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 33 
 
 I followed Maloof s example and called out, " Dras- 
 tuite ! Drastuite ! " 
 
 " What does it mean, Maloof? " I asked after a 
 time, still repeating the word which they understood 
 so well, while their pilgrim song rose with fresh spirit. 
 In the merry tumult I could not hear the answer. 
 But I went on calling " Drastuite " with all my heart. 
 For it was easy to see that Maloof knew the word of 
 salutation to make them glad. And many were the 
 faces muffled in reddish beards, and the counte 
 nances with pale blue eyes and the cheeks of bygone 
 motherhood, which grinned at us kindly out of the 
 thousand and more that filed by. 
 
 Maloof was kept busy answering questions or 
 telling what his own mind suggested about these 
 pilgrims, until their singing died away and they be 
 came as at first a black line in the distance, a quaint 
 phenomenon of the world s manifold piety which 
 chanced to cross our path and soon vanished. 
 
 " These north roads," he said as we talked on, 
 " have been trodden by processions of many different 
 kinds. Long before these pilgrims, the crusaders 
 passed this way. Here the legions of the Romans 
 marched against Jerusalem long before the crusaders. 
 The country folk of Hebrew times went up to the Pass 
 over along these roads year by year through centuries. 
 Yonder hill, no doubt, many times heard them singing 
 
 As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, 
 So the Lord is round about his people, 
 
 and those other pilgrim songs which are in the 
 Psalter."
 
 34 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 With such talk to kindle our thoughts, noon came 
 before we were aware of it, and down hi the depths 
 of a fold in the hills ahead we saw Khan Lubban. 
 
 In this ancient landmark we doubtless found all 
 much the same as travelers through that land have 
 found hi the khans for numberless years a high- 
 walled enclosure, with a court for animals open to 
 the sky ; covered areas along the inside of one or 
 more of the walls wide-open toward the court, afford 
 ing shelter, but not the slightest retirement for 
 travelers ; a well of good water at hand ; a menial 
 keeper or two, with no thought of providing anything 
 for the traveler, and the utmost freedom for all comers. 
 
 We spread the food we carried in the shade of a 
 wall outside the khan, throwing a blanket on the 
 ground. After the meal, Maloof and I sought a plot 
 of grass and stretched ourselves thereon. It was 
 the opportunity for which I had waited since morn 
 ing. 
 
 " I have been thinking about our travelers from 
 Nazareth, Maloof." 
 
 "Ah, yes." 
 
 " Would they stop, also, hi a khan like this? " 
 
 "No doubt in mid-day, I mean to say, and hi 
 the open country, as we do now." 
 
 Then he was silent, and so was I. The hour was 
 heavy with heat and lent itself to silence and dream. 
 At length he spoke again. 
 
 " I often think here how they must have rested in 
 this very khan, for this valley road is long and 
 villages are far between. But not at night. No, 
 the ways of a good man s love would have it other-
 
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 35 
 
 wise. He would not bring his young wife into such 
 a place for the night, you may be sure. Would you, 
 sir? " After a pause he added, " Would I? " 
 
 He looked into my eyes calmly. Something like 
 the glow of kindled memories was in his gaze; but 
 soon I had the satisfaction of seeing that he could 
 keep his secret of sorrow secure. 
 
 " In the khan," a look of revulsion accompanied 
 these words, " would be caravan men with their 
 sweating camels, groaning as they handled their 
 loads ! Muleteers and herdsmen would jostle and 
 banter ; shepherds would turn hi with goats ! In 
 the midst of such a clutter of road-life traders would 
 hawk their wares and soldiers swagger about, loud 
 mouthed and leering at women ! Ah, sir, even at 
 mid-day and far from centers of travel, as here in 
 Khan Lubban, it would be hard for the young wife. 
 But at night and in a town how dreadful ! " 
 
 " But when they came to Bethlehem " - 
 
 " Ah, let me speak of that ! " he broke in. "I 
 pray you not to think as I find many do, not knowing 
 this land as I know it. They read the words, There 
 was no room in the inn, thinking only of the khan, 
 where each is left to care for himself; so they think 
 of Saint Joseph as left to find lodgment for the Blessed 
 Mother wherever he could, no one heeding them, 
 no one taking pity on the fair young face, weary and 
 like that of one whose hour has come ! And they 
 talk of him finding a place for her in a stable with 
 the beasts of the stall, I have heard them sing ! Oh, 
 it grieves me that men should blunder like that! 
 It robs the people of this land of one beautiful virtue
 
 36 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 which has always been theirs, many as their faults 
 were and are ! " 
 
 " But are we not told," I interposed, " that they 
 laid him in a manger because there was no room for 
 them in the inn ? " 
 
 " Hear me, sir I will make all clear. Think of 
 the Medafeh, or whatever guest-chamber villages 
 had then think of this as the inn which Saint Joseph 
 sought, as any good man would. What then? Why, 
 sir, this would bring them into the hospitality of the 
 little town. Have I not told you how I myself was 
 taken to a home by strangers when there was no 
 room for me in the Medafeh? You must forget this 
 custom of hospitality which is the pride of these 
 people even now, as it was in Bible times, to think of 
 our Lord s mother being left as Christendom thinks 
 of her. What a pity, that the beauty of a people s 
 long, long pride in hospitality should be forgotten at 
 the hour of its crowning opportunity! Our world 
 seems unkind enough, without losing sight of any 
 proof of its real goodness and love ! 
 
 " You stumble pardon, sir ! you misunder 
 stand, I mean to say, the words which carry the 
 sweetest message about Bethlehem s kindness. 
 Laid him in a manger ? True ! true ! But how 
 beautiful that becomes when understood aright. You 
 think, with your ways of life, of a place for cattle 
 only. But have you not seen that the common people 
 and their animals live together in this land? You 
 will find it so, in Bethlehem everywhere even 
 now ; you read of the same in the Bible itself, which 
 is so true to life here, all sorts of domestic animals
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 37 
 
 with their feeding places in the dwellings of the 
 lowly. Ah, I like to think how, when the little town 
 was crowded by reason of an enrolment, and there 
 was no room in the inn, some kind villager said, 
 Come to my house, and so a place was made for 
 Mary s Babe in a household manger ! There is an 
 unknown saint for you, sir, the woman of Bethle 
 hem who made a place in her poor home for our 
 Saviour ! Do not forget that, when you write our 
 story. No room in the inn ! yes, as often now, 
 no room in public places, no room where the crowd 
 is, but room in some lowly home, room in some 
 heart that does its best to receive him kindly; this 
 is the way of his coming into our world from that 
 first Christmas night until now. This is the meaning 
 of his manger-cradle ! " 
 
 The afternoon sun poured a sultry heat along the 
 spiral road as we climbed the steeps which wall in 
 the valley of Khan Lubban. Having taken carriages 
 for the ride to Jerusalem, we were sheltered some 
 what from its glare, and the passage through the long 
 4 Valley of the Fountains of Robbers," with its un 
 ending terraces of olive trees sweeping and twining 
 their lengths along the slopes, was to us like a royal 
 approach to the city of the great King. 
 
 A breeze sprang up to enhance the hours. But 
 as the day began to wear away a wind-storm broke. 
 The dust became blinding. The curtains, lowered 
 to shield us, bellied like sails. Clouds rushed through 
 the air, black and furious. I have never seen a 
 more impressive and altogether awesome spectacle 
 than that which spread before us when in the murky
 
 38 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 gloom the toiling horses dragged our vehicles to the 
 top of Mount Scopus, and Jerusalem, twinkling with 
 lights, burst on our sight across the upper Kedron 
 valley. City of God, city of what destinies ! How 
 raved the storm-clouds over thee that night ! 
 
 Near the north gate welcoming hands received us 
 into a house whose hospitality to us and to many 
 through long years of simple joy in overcoming evil 
 with good would itself make a beautiful story. In 
 the light of that door Maloof bade us farewell. " Re 
 member to see the people in their homes when you 
 reach Bethlehem ! " he called, as he vanished hi the 
 windy dark. Our dragoman had kept his secret to 
 the last!
 
 IV. A WOMAN OF BETHLEHEM 
 
 DU froeliche, O du selige"- 
 
 What was happening? Children were sud- 
 denly running beside me; fair and ruddy 
 children with countenances such as we had 
 not seen in all Palestine; children with sparkle and 
 deep lights in their big black eyes ! And they were 
 singing yes, singing to me ! Alas, Maloof was 
 no longer near to smile calmly and tell me what it 
 all meant ! 
 
 My donkey promptly stopped and refused to pro 
 ceed. I did not greatly blame him, so sweet was the 
 sound ; yet I was eager enough to go on, for there, 
 just up a little hill, was the gate of Bethlehem ! 
 The droll creature gravely swung his ears as if to 
 take in the whole medley of voices, and I, having no 
 wide range of choice, did likewise in a man s way, 
 listening in hope of discovering what they were sing 
 ing about. I often smile yet, thinking how a little 
 donkey gave me such happy guidance into Bethlehem. 
 My notice fell on a beautiful child in the group. Her 
 shining eyes were lifted pleadingly, her bare feet 
 pattered in the dust, her hand was held out, shaped 
 like a tiny cup, and her lips were cooing the words 
 of the song. What ! Could they be German words ? 
 Yes, the child was softly singing with her mates, 
 
 " O du froeliche, O du selige, 
 Gnadenbringende Weihnachtszeit ! "
 
 40 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 As I watched her mouth and listened to the other 
 voices I made out words which hi our language 
 would run something like 
 
 "O thou joyful, O thou blissful, 
 
 it rr I 
 
 Christmastide salvation-bringing ! 
 
 The world forlorn, Christ was born ! 
 Thy joy, O Christendom, be singing ! " 
 
 At last here were children who had learned to utter 
 the East s endless call for " bakshish " hi a manner 
 that did away with annoyance. This was a fitting 
 introduction to Bethlehem, indeed, this sweet 
 singing about Christmas ! No locality hi Palestine, 
 excepting Lake Galilee only, leaves the musing pil 
 grim as free from disquiet and revulsion of spirit 
 as Bethlehem does. The poetry of the gospel s be 
 ginning is laid hi a region which to this day keeps a 
 romantic atmosphere as of old. 
 
 The road from Jerusalem affords not a glimpse of 
 the little town itself until it reaches the hilltop half 
 way, where rises the bell-towered monastery of Mar 
 Elyas. It is six miles long, all told, and is a common 
 enough highway hi every aspect this road between 
 the village of the Manger and the city of the Cross. 
 As you traverse the dusty way up toward the mon 
 astery, there is little hi sight to kindle the spirit, 
 unless it be the long blue haze eastward which fills 
 the void above the low-lying Dead Sea and lends a 
 mystic beauty to the far heights of Moab beyond. 
 
 But at Mar Elyas all this is changed. You look 
 across a valley checkered with terraces and stone 
 walls, bright with olive orchards, vineyards, gram
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 41 
 
 fields, and deepening grandly eastward ; and beyond, 
 you suddenly see Bethlehem lying silent in the sky 
 line on its hill-crest. This view is like a vision of 
 things dreamed of, for it is the first sight of the 
 dearest town in the lore of childhood. Few hearts, 
 I fancy, are so world-worn that they do not quicken 
 their beating when that view opens. 
 
 And what then? Descending into the valley you 
 come to the poor structure called the Tomb of Rachel, 
 she that was loved at sight in the old days and loved 
 to the last, until she died at the birth of her only son 
 and was buried " where there was but a little way to 
 come to Ephrath, the same is Bethlehem." Just 
 beyond, where the road begins to ascend into the 
 town, those singing children surround you. As you 
 go on up the road to the old gate and look into the 
 great valley eastward where the fields of Boaz and 
 of the shepherds lie among watch-towers and olive 
 trees, perhaps you are thinking of the beautiful 
 Rachel and Benjamin, her son ; perhaps of the 
 lovely Ruth and David the ruddy ; perhaps of Mary 
 and her child ; perhaps of the women of Bethlehem 
 you are now meeting, the fair, full-eyed mothers of 
 such children as .those who sang to you at the foot 
 of the hill. But in any case, you are thinking of the 
 sweetest reality in the world, mother and child. 
 For this is the glory of Bethlehem. 
 
 It need hardly be said that the talk of Maloof, 
 deepened by the story out of his own life so strangely 
 blended with it, had set a human interest coursing 
 through my thought of all I saw. I found that this 
 vivified even the Nativity s matchless charm. Yet
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 at first, such an alien was I, a mere tourist among the 
 peasants, I saw only what tourists see the crooked 
 little streets with their quaint life, the hubbub of 
 the market-place, the ancient castlelike church, the 
 underground room hung with tapestry and lined with 
 marble and glimmering with thirty pendent lamps 
 and having a silver star at the spot where Christ was 
 born, these and the like much, indeed, and well 
 worth journeying far to see. But the little town s 
 ancient life did not lay its spell upon me at first. It 
 was not until the third and fourth day hi Bethlehem 
 that I saw what I now relate. 
 
 There was a boy who took to recognizing me with 
 a friendly smile when we chanced to pass each other 
 in my roaming. He seemed to be a manly little fellow, 
 though not more than twelve years of age. His face 
 shone with good-nature and he could speak in my 
 tongue somewhat haltingly it is true, but he made 
 up for that by talking with all speed in his own. To 
 him I at length confided my desire to see the people 
 of Bethlehem in their homes, as Maloof had admon 
 ished. His black eyes kindled at that. Yes, he 
 would take me into houses he himself knew. 
 
 I soon observed that he was searching out certain 
 newer and better dwellings to his thinking, though 
 they were old and poor enough for the most part. 
 This pleased me not a little as to the spirit of the lad, 
 and I took care to show interest in what we saw. 
 Nevertheless, my desire was toward the old-time 
 houses and ways of life. 
 
 In rambling about I had observed that the hill 
 whereon the town is upraised opens toward the beau-
 
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 43 
 
 tiful east valley somewhat like a crescent. The road 
 from Jerusalem enters at the northern tip of this 
 curve; over on the southern end stands the Church 
 of the Nativity, as it has for nearly sixteen centuries 
 in one form or another. On the southern side, too, 
 is the Milk Grotto where, as ancient tradition has 
 it, the Mother and Child were concealed from the 
 terror of Herod s men ere they fled to Egypt ; there, 
 a short way down the slope, is the house of Joseph, 
 so they say these many years ; and below that is 
 the cluster of houses where the shepherds dwelt, 
 they who were keeping watch over their flocks in 
 the valley beneath the hill on that first Christmas 
 Eve. Moreover, the ancient market-square which is 
 near the center of the crescent is yet well over toward 
 this southern side like a landmark of the olden town. 
 All in all, therefore, the southern end of the ridge 
 seemed to be the place for my quest. Indeed, a 
 friend who knows Bethlehem well had told me that 
 the oldest houses and most primitive life were to be 
 found there. 
 
 Presently I said to the boy, " Now let us go over 
 where the church is. Do you know any houses over 
 there?" 
 
 "Come!" A quick pleasure was in his voice; 
 " Come ! Anteeca Bet-lee-em ! " 
 
 Soon we entered the small street leading to the 
 Milk Grotto along the wall of a monastery and garden 
 attached to the venerable church. It was easy to 
 see that the boy was now more at home ; he spoke 
 familiarly to everybody everybody except the 
 Greek priest standing in the monastery s side entry,
 
 44 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 looking rather imposing in his long black robe and 
 tall, flat-topped, black cap, while a line of Russian 
 pilgrims such as we saw when Maloof was with us 
 emerged into the street. To him the boy did not 
 speak. 
 
 " He took a board of wood against me one day!" 
 said the little fellow confidentially, when we were 
 safely out of hearing. We were entering a covered 
 passage which opens nearly opposite this monastery 
 door and runs down the southwesterly slope. 
 
 When you have followed this tortuous passage a 
 hundred feet or thereabout, you come to an open 
 stone stair against the wall on your left. Opposite 
 this, across the passage, is a door. Through that 
 door I now ask the reader to follow us. Perchance 
 in days to come some who read what is here told 
 may find that door hi Bethlehem and remember to 
 look in thereat. Know, then, that I can not do other 
 than speak truly. 
 
 The doorway leads at once into a living-room. A 
 small fireplace, built like ours, save that it has no 
 flue, as I afterwards found, is seen against the back 
 wall straight before the door. An old woman sat on 
 the floor by this fireplace, slowly turning a flat-stone 
 grinding-mill, dipping wheat from a tray into the 
 cavity at the center of the upper stone with the thin 
 hand of age. She stared at me hi mute surprise, f But 
 the boy with a few Arabic words quickly changed all 
 that to a grin of welcome. Soon she beckoned me in. 
 
 I manifested cheerful interest in her mill, and she 
 went on turning it, nodding up at me and grunting 
 not unpleasantly.
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 45 
 
 We were thus engaged when a young woman with 
 a babe hi her arms came running hi from the passage 
 outside. She was evidently the mistress of the 
 dwelling, and after a quick-spoken conversation with 
 the boy she lost no time hi making me welcome with 
 many a reassuring smile. 
 
 It is the sober truth to say that she was beautiful. 
 And what a gift of God the human smile is ! Few 
 were the words which either of us could speak which 
 the other would understand ; but she and I talked 
 kindly to each other, and the smile and the boy made 
 all well. 
 
 The young mother was dressed hi the garb which 
 distinguishes Bethlehem married women. The long, 
 loose gown worn throughout Palestine is bright and 
 many-colored hi Bethlehem. Around the waist is 
 a girdle of folded cloth adding to the medley of colors 
 dark blue, dark red, green, white, yellow, but some 
 how surprisingly well blended. This dress has an 
 opening at the breast, which is drawn together by a 
 cord and adorned round about with bits of silk stitch 
 work. On the head is set a round, high cap, flat- 
 topped and rimless, whereon the inviolate corns of 
 the marriage dower are sewed; they would not be 
 parted with any more than the wearer s womanly 
 honor or life itself. Over this precious head-piece 
 is placed a cloth covering, white or yellow or pink, 
 which like a veil frames the face about and falls 
 gracefully over shoulders and back. This striking 
 head-dress is the special mark of the Bethlehemite 
 costume. Even an ordinary face is rendered pictur 
 esque by such a setting.
 
 46 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 But this young woman s face was by no means 
 ordinary. On the contrary, it was of a type which 
 any one, woman as well as man, would pronounce 
 beautiful. For her comeliness of features was en 
 riched by that happy blend of colors found hi the 
 human countenance which all eyes enjoy, and withal 
 it was lighted by the brightness of a sweet spirit. 
 
 Her face was oval hi its lines and ruddy with the 
 tints of a clear complexion sun-browned. Her lips 
 were full and ripe, revealing teeth of that even, arch 
 ing whiteness which one sees among the peasantry 
 of Palestine with constant surprise. Her eyes were 
 full-orbed and deeply dark, but quick with gentle 
 flashings. Her forehead was maidenly and arched 
 with soft, black hair. To crown all, the joy in her 
 babe, which she held close to her face, shone like 
 morning sunlight. Morning sunlight, I say, for she 
 was surely not far from twenty years of age. 
 
 There was from the first a haunting sense that I 
 had seen this face before. But after watching her 
 for a time I concluded that this was only a character 
 istic of her type of womanly grace. 
 
 Radiant with kindness I found myself wondering 
 what the boy may have said to her of me ! she 
 watched and smiled approval as I began looking 
 around her poor home. I took care to keep up a 
 show of appreciation, laughing to manifest my inter 
 est in each object observed, the stone hand-mill, 
 the well-built fireplace, the water jars beside it, and 
 the like, turning to her hi the door-light and nod 
 ding to express what I could not put into words that 
 her ears would understand.
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 47 
 
 It was evident that she was pleased and proud in a 
 young wife s way to have this stranger take such 
 interest in her home. Soon, as if to show the best 
 of all, she came toward me and laid her hand on the 
 baby s head, then hugged it to her young bosom! 
 My heart was moved with thankfulness to the good 
 God of us all at that. Then Bethlehem s Mother 
 and Child came to mind, and so vivid and tender 
 was my thought of them that for a moment it was 
 quite too much for merry speech. But little that 
 young mother guessed why the stranger was suddenly 
 silent ! 
 
 " Where do they sleep? " I asked the boy pres 
 ently. 
 
 " Here." He waved his hand toward a dark end 
 of the room extending from the fireplace. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Here," he repeated, stepping into the gloom. 
 
 I followed a few paces, striking a match or two. 
 
 Quickly the little mother handed the child to granny, 
 still seated by the hand-mill, and brought me a small 
 lamp, a wick in a brass oil-can. She shook it, 
 laughing the while, to be sure that it had oil. Just 
 as I got the wick alight, a small black cow raised 
 herself in the dark by the end wall ! Then a hen 
 ran past my feet ! 
 
 " No," said I to my guide, " I mean where do the 
 family sleep." 
 
 " Here all around here on blankets of wool," 
 he replied. In the lamp s dim light I now saw a 
 narrow, slightly raised space running along the rear 
 wall from the fireplace to the room s end. I was 
 
 I. ~~~
 
 48 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 also able now to examine the walls, which I could not 
 do satisfactorily before. Believe me, it was a cave 
 in the hillside rock, simply closed in by an outer wall 
 of masonry! 
 
 Having made this discovery, I went feeling along 
 the face of the rock with a thumping at the heart 
 which, I hope, needs no explanation. When I came 
 to the corner where the enclosing rock turned to 
 make the wall against which the quiet little animal 
 lay, the lamp s flicker disclosed a small recess hol 
 lowed out in the rock itself. I bent low over it! I 
 passed my hand along its worn surface ! 
 
 " Very old ! " said the boy. 
 
 I held the light close to the spot. Had I found a 
 feeding place a manger? There was the cow. I 
 scented her kinelike breath, so near was she. And 
 it was in a cave-house which was the home of a 
 peasant s family! 
 
 While I mused, the young mother suddenly started 
 up a short flight of steps open to the room. She 
 stood midway with her babe hi arms, called, and 
 then beckoned. 
 
 " What does she want? " I asked. The boy 
 answered, " Up there she would show the that in 
 which the child is laid." 
 
 I could hardly suppress the shout that was in me ! 
 Do you see the reason? Why did she think of that 
 at sight of my interest hi the old hollow hi the 
 wall? It was as pretty a bit of evidence as ever a 
 man hit upon in the dark. She knew how children 
 often sleep in a manger among the peasants of her 
 land, and was reminded to show the stranger the
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 49 
 
 cradle, yes, the rocking cradle which her little one 
 enjoyed ! 
 
 We followed her, the boy and I; and in an upper 
 apartment, arched over by the top of the cave, she set 
 out a cradle made of boards, laid her child therein, 
 and rocked it with the glee of youthful motherhood. 
 
 I passed down the stair, satisfied that I had seen 
 such a house as that wherein the young wife from 
 Nazareth, soon to be the mother of the world s 
 Saviour, was given shelter on that first Christmas 
 night. The grotto over where the church stands 
 may have been the spot ; but this old cave-house 
 close beside it, on the same end of the ridge, with 
 its cow in the family room and its manger in the cave 
 walls and its child-loving peasant woman this far 
 more than the other was like the place where they 
 laid him in a manger because there was no room for 
 them hi the inn." 
 
 How strange that it had remained there so long, 
 unspoiled by man s tampering veneration, a stone s 
 throw from the other which men have made so un 
 natural with their marble and tapestry and lamps 
 and quarreling priests ! Glad was I to think, not 
 of a lonely cave, not of a rude place for cattle only, 
 but of a home, however poor, as the place that shel 
 tered Mary and her little Jesus ! 
 
 Then I remembered the words of Maloof: " No 
 room in the inn, no room in public places, no room 
 where the crowd is, but room in some lowly home, 
 room in some heart that does its best to receive him 
 kindly ; this is the way of his coming into our world 
 from that first Christmas night until now."
 
 50 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 We were standing at the foot of the stair when 
 another boy ran in, spoke to my guide, and scampered 
 off. 
 
 " My father has come, he has been bringing the 
 sheep ! I must go, please ! " 
 
 " May I go with you? " 
 
 " Come! " And off he started. It was pleasant 
 to discover that I had been led to the cave-house 
 by a shepherd s son. 
 
 What I saw in the home of the shepherd near by, 
 the father s simple welcome, the mother s haste to 
 prepare him food and their wish that I would share 
 it, the way of three small children, who pressed my 
 hand to their lips and foreheads when I was depart 
 ing, all this I will not pause to relate. For my 
 thoughts run on to another matter. Above all else, 
 as I passed into the throng that had gathered in the 
 market-place and the square before the great church, 
 I was thinking of the young mother in the cave-house. 
 Does any one need to be told why ?
 
 V. BETHLEHEM AND THE PRINCE 
 
 YES, the market-place and all its approaches 
 were crowded. The prince was coming 
 to Bethlehem! Near the point where the 
 winding little street leading from the Jeru 
 salem road emerges into the market-place was 
 stretched a welcoming banner. Early that morning 
 at the other end of the highway I had seen Jerusa 
 lem s loftier bunting in the market by the Jaffa Gate. 
 On that, Prince Eitel Friedrich, son of the German 
 Emperor, was welcomed think of it ! in French, 
 by "La Ville de Jerusalem!" Not so hi Bethle 
 hem, the kind little town ! On its banner were 
 the words, " Willkommen Dem Prinz ! " 
 
 The villagers, men and boys, and peasants from 
 all the hillsides round about, were sitting or standing 
 in a throng that filled the market-place and that 
 spacious area which still shows traces of the atrium 
 of Constantine, but is now an open square between 
 the market and the church. Above them, along the 
 parapets of flat-roofed buildings adjoining, were long 
 lines of women and girls, their bright garments and 
 unveiled faces making such an array of color as only 
 a vast flower-border could have equaled. But 
 flowers could not have matched them in the music 
 of rippling laughter and merry chatter which came 
 down through the sunny air. Only birds could 
 rival that.
 
 
 52 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 Turkish soldiers patrolled a central passage through 
 this square, and a line of stacked guns extended from 
 the banner in the market-place to the small door 
 which is the sanctuary s main entrance. Flags were 
 waving along the cornices and from the towers of 
 the sacred edifice itself waving with becoming 
 quietness, so gentle was the morning s breeze. There 
 was a white flag here and there among the crimsoned 
 emblems of worldly power. Whatever its significance 
 may have been, it impressed me with its fitting beauty 
 there on the spot where the Prince of Peace was born. 
 
 But all this peasant array and expectancy could not 
 hold my eyes from the glorious valley in full view 
 eastward. There are no buildings along that side 
 of the area before the church. Over a low wall and 
 a narrow old burying-ground you look down on en 
 closures filled with olive trees, fig trees, grape-vines, 
 and the greenery of gardens. The descending ter 
 races circle away on either side like great horseshoes 
 piled there, with the center of their long curve turned 
 toward the hilltop town and their open ends encom 
 passing the deep valley whose expanse escapes their 
 embrace and lies afar in the sunshine. At the heart 
 of this valley reposes the Field of the Shepherds. 
 You can see it there where stone walls surround 
 a number of olive trees. No, the jubilation in Beth 
 lehem could not hold me. I was thinking of another 
 Prince ! 
 
 There is a road winding around the base of the 
 church s somber pile and descending the eastward 
 slope of the ridge whereon it stands. This road 
 leads to the village part way down the slope where
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 53 
 
 the Christmas shepherds dwelt, it is said. Who 
 knows? But I passed down, thinking that those 
 shepherds may have hurried up this very road in the 
 starlight when that other Prince came to Bethlehem. 
 It is the main egress from the valley. Peasants 
 passed me going to see the prince now coming, Der 
 Prinz Eitel Friedrich trudged up the steep way, 
 chattering as they went. 
 
 At length I was alone in the valley. Then I came 
 in solitude to the Field of the Shepherds. 
 
 The stillness was enchanting. Far up the terraced 
 slope northward the monastery of Mar Elyas was 
 seen on its hilltop. From beyond I heard the low 
 boom of the great bells that are in Jerusalem. The 
 prince was coming ! Then, listening in the valley s 
 silence, I seemed almost to hear the voices of long 
 ago their song when that other Prince came to 
 Bethlehem. 
 
 On the hilltop westward the view of Bethlehem 
 which surpasses all others for loveliness drew my 
 eyes. I could see the square old houses clustered 
 around the valley s top. I could see the people 
 thronging before the church and crowding adjacent 
 roofs and windows yes, could see the flags against 
 the skyline on the Church of the Nativity. Now and 
 then a jubilant outcry carried down into the valley 
 like the far sound of many waters. But round about 
 me was no sound save the low song of birds when the 
 heat of the day has come, 
 
 " Perhaps the self-same song that found a path 
 Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, 
 She stood in tears amid the alien corn." 

 
 54 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 For there, near and alluring, were fields that bear the 
 name of Boaz. 
 
 Southward rose the Frank Mountain, a grim height 
 resembling a truncated cone; for this burial-place 
 of that Herod who struck terror to all hearts in poor 
 Bethlehem that he might make sure of killing the 
 King who was born there, rears itself like a beheaded 
 monster near the town, even to this day. Eastward 
 spread the wilds that border the Dead Sea. 
 
 Such was the encircling view that held me hi spell. 
 Not far away a man passed with a noiseless camel. 
 A shepherd boy beside a bunch of goats was in sight 
 on a hillock, gazing up toward the hushed tumult of 
 the town. But these were as voiceless as the wild- 
 flowers close about me. Presently, among the flowers 
 I noticed the white, long-petaled star-of-Bethlehem. 
 Its familiar face instantly brought to mind the morn 
 ing when I plucked that flower for one who bade me 
 ride beside Maloof out of Nablus. And then then 
 my thoughts hovered about the young mother in 
 the cave-house ! 
 
 While pondering the perplexity which the sight of 
 her had raised, I heard a wild burst of shouting up 
 in Bethlehem, a merry blare of trumpets, a long, 
 silvery jangle of bells. The prince had come to 
 Bethlehem ! 
 
 This ended hi a long quiet, during which I saw the 
 people facing the church. I did not doubt that the 
 prince of Germany was kneeling in the ancient 
 sanctuary before the Prince of Heaven. And so he 
 was, as I heard later, to the honor of Eitel Friedrich. 
 Then the shouting started once more and swelled
 
 NOROOMINTHEINN 55 
 
 even as the deep-sea roar is wont to rise and wane 
 and rise again. 
 
 At length I left the sweet quiet of the valley and 
 climbed in the mid-day heat back to the town. I 
 would see it once more before leaving it for years, 
 perhaps forever. But not alone because the Prince 
 of Life came there long ago was I returning. Or, 
 rather, it was because he came, after all. Do we 
 not get our clearest visions of his coming and pay 
 him our deepest homage when we go anywhere with 
 impulses of human kindness mingled with our love 
 for him ? At any rate, I clambered up the steep 
 paths back to Bethlehem, thinking also of the cave- 
 house mother. 
 
 The German prince was gone. The little town was 
 already settling itself into its ancient ways. I found 
 my shepherd-boy guide standing with his father near 
 the church door. It was easy to renew talk with 
 these friends, for so they were. 
 
 " He, the prince, said prayers to our Saviour, 
 like us, on his knees ! " said the boy with glad eyes. 
 Soon I led them by questions not too direct to other 
 matters, and little by little, the boy acting as an in 
 termediary, I gathered what the father knew about 
 his young neighbor s wife. Not much, he doubtless 
 thought ; yet I would tell you, reader, what he said. 
 
 She came to Bethlehem about two years before, 
 as the young shepherd s bride ; he had heard that 
 she was from an orphanage somewhere it was in 
 Jerusalem that the Bethlehem youth found her. Yes, 
 he remembered that when she came to Bethlehem 
 as a bride it was understood among the neighbors
 
 56 NOROOMINTHEINN 
 
 that she had grown up in an orphanage. He had 
 himself heard her say that she did not know her 
 father s name, that her friends at the orphanage 
 had answered her questions by describing how they 
 found her one morning asleep hi a sheltered place 
 by their house, and had taught her to call herself 
 " Abdullah, God s child," when she began to talk. 
 
 Thus, a little at a time, the boy interpreted what 
 his father said in response to my queries. 
 
 When I bade these friends good-by, the father 
 gave me the beautiful salaam of the men of Pales 
 tine already described in this narrative. 
 
 Mounting my donkey, I rode away from the town, 
 loved since childhood and now endeared by manhood 
 memories to be cherished down to old age. 
 
 Intertwined with musings of the Blessed Mother 
 who there laid her Child of Grace hi a manger be 
 cause there was no room hi the inn, were pulsing 
 thoughts about the mother and child of the cave- 
 house home with its fireplace and its manger yes, 
 and its cradle. They seemed to belong together, 
 each interpreting the other. 
 
 It startled me, so deeply pondering was I, when 
 at the foot of the hill the children ran beside me as 
 before singing their song, 
 
 " O thou joyful, O thou blissful, 
 
 Christmastide salvation-bringing ! 
 The world forlorn, Christ was born ! 
 Thy joy, O Christendom, be singing ! " 
 
 The donkey did not stop this time. For he was 
 homeward bound, and "the ass knoweth his master s
 
 NO ROOM IN THE INN 57 
 
 crib." But I could not refrain from dropping a few 
 coins in the dust! 
 
 All the way up the long ascent to Mar Elyas this 
 question was turned over and over, " Should I send 
 word to Maloof about the little mother of the Beth 
 lehem cave-house?" Her face surely was his face, 
 I could not doubt that ; this was why it had im 
 pressed me from the first as a face I had seen before. 
 But more subtle and significant still was the likeness 
 to him in her smile, her poise of head to express a 
 state of mind, the intonations and accents of her 
 speech, and the atmosphere of her spirit. These 
 things, God be thanked, are indelible signs of parentage 
 in a child. 
 
 And she was undoubtedly about twenty years of 
 age the shepherd had the same impression and 
 grew to maidenhood in an orphanage, left there by 
 stealth and none knew her father s name ! Would 
 it not be so, if robbers took pity on a stolen babe ? 
 
 But should I tell Maloof, write him and take the 
 risks of being mistaken, of kindling false hopes which 
 would blaze and burn in his noble breast? Even if 
 I could eliminate the possibility of error as to the fact, 
 what then ? It is no slight matter to assume respon 
 sibility for bridging a chasm of twenty years, a 
 chasm which different life conditions may make both 
 deep and wide. And how little I knew about these 
 people after all ! O, it was not so easy as it seems 
 at first sight to find the course which would be surely 
 right, though my heart leaped with its eagerness to 
 tell Maloof I had found his lost child ! 
 
 Brooding on it all, we came, the donkey and I,
 
 58 NO ROOM IN THE INN 
 
 to Mar Elyas on the top of the ridge half-way to Jeru 
 salem. The donkey submitted grudgingly to being 
 headed around for a moment. There lay Bethlehem 
 silent hi the skyline on its hill-crest. For a brief 
 moment I gazed ; then we turned toward Jerusalem 
 and Bethlehem passed from view for long, per 
 haps forever. 
 
 The story which Maloof started that night by the 
 cook s fire hi camp at Nablus is finished. Will there 
 be another chapter? 
 
 As I write that question my own daughters, barely 
 woman-grown, are sleeping under their father s roof 
 in far America; and he hi a still room above them, 
 remembering what they mean hi his life, is thinking 
 of the dragoman from Nazareth and the beautiful 
 mother hi the Bethlehem cave-house. Thoughts of 
 the coming Christmastide are also at work hi his 
 heart. He is reflecting how at Christmas there is 
 no blessing quite so precious, after the memory of 
 the Christ-child, as this, that then the olden prophet s 
 words come true in our busy world, " He shall turn 
 the heart of the fathers to their children, and the heart 
 of the children to their fathers." And on his desk 
 beside the pen that writes this, " Merry Christmas 
 to all," is a sheet of letter paper whereon are already 
 written the words, " Dear Maloof."
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-37n-3, 57(C5424s4)444
 
 A 000 923 595 3 
 
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