The dust went with the party when in movement, wrapping him in yellow fog, sometimes in a dense cloud.

He drooped forward, footsore and faint.
The villagers could see he was young.
At the well the decurion halted, and, with most of the men, dismounted.

The prisoner sank down in the dust of the road, stupefied, and asking nothing: apparently he was in the last stage of exhaustion.

Seeing, when they came near, that he was but a boy, the villagers would have helped him had they dared.
In the midst of their perplexity, and while the pitchers were passing among the soldiers, a man was descried coming down the road from Sepphoris.

At sight of him a woman cried out, "Look! Yonder comes the carpenter.