I observed he seemed much moved about something, and, in deference, offered to withdraw, but he himself forbade me.

'As you are an Israelite,' he said, 'stay, for I have a strange story to tell.' The emphasis on the word Israelite excited my curiosity.

I remained, and this is in substance his story--I cut it short because we are drawing nigh the tent, and I leave the details to the good man himself.
A good many years ago, three men called at Ilderim's tent out in the wilderness.

They were all foreigners, a Hindoo, a Greek, and an Egyptian; and they had come on camels, the largest he had ever seen, and all white.

He welcomed them, and gave them rest.
Next morning they arose and prayed a prayer new to the sheik--a prayer addressed to God and his son--this with much mystery besides.
After breaking fast with him, the Egyptian told who they were, and whence they had come.