Mules bringing wood from the country were dragged out of the path, and the town asses, with their panniers full of street-filth, were drawn up by the wall.

From the market-place and out of the shops, out of the houses and out of the mosque itself, the people came trooping in crowds, and they made a long close line on either side of the course which the procession must take.

And through this avenue of onlookers the strange company made its way--the two prisoners bearing the plumes, the four others bearing the coffin, the two soldiers carrying the lanterns, and Israel last of all, unsupported and alone.
Nothing was heard in the silence of the people but the tramp of the feet of the six men, and the clank of their chains.
The light of the lanterns was on the faces of some of them, and every one knew them for what they were.

It was on the face of Israel also, yet he did not flinch.

His head was held steadily upward; he looked neither to the right nor to the left, but strode firmly along.
The Jewish cemetery was outside the town walls, and before the procession came to it the darkness had closed in.