There were men and women of many nationalities in the throng.

I saw Italians, Celts, Poles, Germans and even men whose swarthy faces and peculiar garb betokened Syrian origin.

When we pressed nearer to Rayel I saw some, as they came within reach, extend their hands and touch him fondly, uttering exclamations as they did so, often in a tongue that was strange to me.

These simple-minded people seemed to regard him as a supernatural being whom it was good to talk with, and whose touch it was a blessing to feel.

A look of love and gentleness and sympathy irradiated his face and invited their confidence.