Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem

by H. Rider Haggard

  CHAPTER XXIV

  MASTER AND SLAVE

  Now a hush of expectancy fell upon the crowd, till presently twoattendants appeared, each of them holding in his hand a flaming torch,and between them the captive Pearl-Maiden. So beautiful did she look asshe advanced thus with bowed head, the red light of the torches fallingupon her white robe and breast and reflected in a faint, shimmering linefrom the collar of pearls about her neck, that even that jaded companyclapped as she came. In another moment she had mounted the two stepsand was standing on the block of marble. The crowd pressed closer, amongthem the merchant of Egypt, Demetrius, and the veiled woman with thebasket, who was now attended by a little man dressed as a slave andbearing on his back another basket, the weight of which he seemedto find irksome, since from time to time he groaned and twisted hisshoulders. Also the chamberlain, Saturius, secure in the authority ofhis master, stepped over the rope and against the rule began to walkround and round the captive, examining her critically.

  "Look at her!" said the auctioneer. "Look for yourselves. I have nothingto say, words fail me--unless it is this. For more than twenty years Ihave stood in this rostrum, and during that time I suppose that fifteenor sixteen thousand young women have been knocked down to my hammer.They have come out of every part of the world; from the farthest East,from the Grecian mountains, from Egypt and Cyprus, from the Spanishplains, from Gaul, from the people of the Teutons, from the island ofthe Britons, and other barbarous places that lie still further north.Among them were many beautiful women, of every style and variety ofloveliness, yet I tell you honestly, my patrons, I do not remember onewho came so near perfection as this maiden whom I have the honour tosell to-night. I say again--look at her, look at her, and tell me withwhat you can find fault.

  "What do you say? Oh! yes, I am informed that her teeth are quite sound,there is no blemish to conceal, none at all, and the hair is all herown. That gentleman says that she is rather small. Well, she is notbuilt upon a large scale, and to my mind that is one of her attractions.Little and good, you know, little and good. Only consider theproportions. Why, the greatest sculptors, ancient or modern, wouldrejoice to have her as model, and I hope that in the interests of theart-loving public"--here he glanced at the Chamberlain, Saturius--"thatthe fortunate person into whose hands she passes will not be so selfishas to deny them this satisfaction.

  "Now I have said enough and must but add this, that by the specialdecree of her captor, the Imperator Titus, the beautiful necklace ofpearls worn by the maiden goes with her. I asked a jeweller friend ofmine to look at it just now, and judging as well as he could withoutremoving it from her neck, which was not allowed, he values it at leastat a hundred sestertia. Also, there goes with this lot considerableproperty, situated in Tyre and neighbouring places, to which, had shebeen a free woman, she would have succeeded by inheritance. You maythink that Tyre is a long way off and that it will be difficult to takepossession of this estate, and, of course, there is something in theobjection. Still, the title to it is secure enough, for here I have adeed signed by Titus Caesar himself, commanding all officials, officersand others concerned, to hand over without waste or deduction allproperty, real or personal, belonging to the estate of the late Benoni,the Jewish merchant of Tyre, and a member of the Sanhedrim--the lot'sgrandfather, I am informed, gentleman--to her purchaser, who has only tofill in his own name in the blank space, or any representatives whom hemay appoint, which deed is especially declared to be indefeasible. Anyone wish to see it? No? Then we will take it as read. I know that insuch a matter, my patrons, my word is enough for you.

  "Now I am about to come to business, with the remark that the moreliberal your bidding the better will our glorious general, Titus Caesar,be pleased; the better will the poor and the invalided soldiers, whodeserve so well at your hands, be pleased; the better will the girlherself be pleased, who I am sure will know how to reward a generousappreciation of her worth; and the better shall I, your humble friendand servant, be pleased, because, as I may inform you in strict secrecy,I am paid, not by a fixed salary, but by commission.

  "Now, gentlemen, what may I say? A thousand sestertia to begin with? Oh!don't laugh, I expect more than that. What! Fifty? You are joking, myfriend. However, the acorn grows into the oak, doesn't it? and I am toldthat you can stop the sources of the Tiber with your hat; so I'll startwith fifty. Fifty--a hundred. Come, bid up, gentlemen, or we shallnever get home to supper. Two hundred--three, four, five, six, seven,eight--ah! that's better. What are you stopping for?" and he addresseda hatchet-faced man who had thrust himself forward over the rope of thering.

  The man shook his head with a sigh. "I'm done," he said. "Such goodsare for my betters," a sentiment that seemed to be shared by his rivals,since they also stopped bidding.

  "Well, friend Saturius," said the auctioneer, "have you gone to sleep,or have you anything to say? Only in hundreds, now, gentlemen, mind,only in hundreds, unless I give the word. Thank you, I have ninehundred," and he looked round rather carelessly, expecting at heart thatthis bid would be the last.

  Then the merchant from Alexandria stepped forward and held up hisfinger.

  "A thousand, by the Gods!"

  Saturius looked at the man indignantly. Who was this that dared to bidagainst Domitian, the third dignitary in all the Roman empire, Caesar'sson, Caesar's brother, who might himself be Caesar? Still he answered withanother bid of eleven hundred.

  Once more the finger of Domitian went up.

  "Twelve. Twelve hundred!" said the auctioneer, in a voice of suppressedexcitement, while the audience gasped, for such prices had not beenheard of.

  "Thirteen," said the Chamberlain.

  Again the finger went up.

  "Fourteen hundred. I have fourteen hundred. Against you, worthySaturius. Come, come, I must knock the lot down, which perhaps would notplease some whom I could mention. Don't be stingy, friend, you have alarge purse to draw on, and it is called the Roman Empire. Now. Thankyou, I have fifteen hundred. Well, my friend yonder. What! Have you hadenough?" and he pointed to the Alexandrian merchant, who, with a groan,had turned aside and hidden his face in his hands.

  "Knocked out, knocked out, it seems," said the auctioneer, "and thoughit is little enough under all the circumstances for this lot, who is aslovely as she is historical, I suppose that I can scarcely expect----"and he looked around despondently.

  Suddenly the old woman with the basket glanced up and, speaking in aquiet matter-of-fact voice but with a foreign accent, said:

  "Two thousand."

  A titter of laughter went around the room.

  "My dear madam?" queried the auctioneer, looking at her dubiously,"might I ask if you mean sester_tii_ or sester_tia_?[*] Your pardon, butit has occurred to me that you might be confounding the two sums."

  [*] A _sestertius_ was worth less than 2d., a _sestertium_ was a sum of money of the value of about L8.

  "Two thousand sester_tia_," repeated the matter-of-fact voice with theforeign accent.

  "Well, well," said the auctioneer, "I suppose that I must accept thebid. Friend Saturius, I have two thousand sestertia, and it is againstyou."

  "Against me it must remain, then," replied the little man in a fury. "Doall the kings in the world want this girl? Already I have exceeded mylimit by five hundred sestertia. I dare do no more. Let her go."

  "Don't vex yourself, Saturius," said the auctioneer, "bidding is onething, paying another. At present I have a bona-fide bid of fifteenhundred from you. Unless this liberal but unknown lady is prepared withthe cash I shall close on that. Do you understand, madam?"

  "Perfectly," answered the veiled old woman. "Being a stranger to Rome Ithought it well to bring the gold with me, since strangers cannot expectcredit."

  "To bring the gold with you!" gasped the auctioneer. "To bring twothousand sestertia with you! Where is it then?"

  "Where? Oh! in my servant's and my own baskets, and something more aswell. Come, good sir, I have made my bid. Does the worthy gentlema
nadvance?"

  "No," shouted Saturius. "You are being fooled, she has not got themoney."

  "If he does not advance and no other worthy gentleman wishes to bid,then will you knock the lot down?" said the old woman. "Pardon me ifI press you, noble seller of slaves, but I must ride far from Rometo-night, to Centum Cellae, indeed, where my ship waits; therefore, Ihave no time to lose."

  Now the auctioneer saw that there was no choice, since under the rulesof the public mart he must accept the offer of the highest bidder.

  "Two thousand sestertia are bid for this lot No. 7, the Jewish captiveknown as Pearl-Maiden, sold by order of Titus Imperator, together withher collar of pearls and the property to which, as a free woman, shewould have been entitled. Any advance on two thousand sestertia?" and helooked at Saturius, who shook his head. "No? Then--going--going--gone!I declare the lot sold, to be delivered on payment of the cash to theperson named--by the way, madam, what is your name?"

  "Mulier."

  At this the company burst into a loud laugh.

  "Mulier?" repeated the auctioneer, "M u l i e r--Woman?"

  "Yes, am I not a woman, and what better name can I have than is given toall my sex?"

  "In truth, you are so wrapped up that I must take your word for it,"replied the auctioneer. "But come, let us put an end to this farce. Ifyou have the money, follow me into the receiving house--for I must seeto the matter myself--and pay it down."

  "With pleasure, sir, but be so good as to bring my property withyou. She is too valuable to be left here unprotected amongst thesedistinguished but disappointed gentlemen."

  Accordingly Miriam was led from the marble stand into an office annexedto the receiving-house, whither she was followed by the auctioneer andby Nehushta and her servant, whose backs, it was now observed, bentbeneath the weight of the baskets that were strapped upon them. Here thedoor was locked, and with the help of her attendant Nehushta loosenedher basket, letting it fall upon the table with a sigh of relief.

  "Take it and count," he said to the auctioneer, untying the lid.

  He lifted it and there met his eye a layer of lettuces neatly packed.

  "By Venus!" he began in a fury.

  "Softly, friend, softly," said Nehushta, "these lettuces are of a kindwhich only grow in yellow soil. Look," and lifting the vegetables sherevealed beneath row upon row of gold coin. "Examine it before youcount," she said.

  He did so by biting pieces at hazard with his teeth and causing them toring upon the marble table.

  "It is good," he said.

  "Quite so. Then count."

  So he and the clerk counted, even to the bottom of the basket, which wasfound to contain gold to the value of over eleven hundred sestertia.

  "So far well," he said, "but that is not enough."

  The buyer beckoned to the man with her who stood in the corner, his facehidden by the shadow, and he dragged forward the second basket, which hehad already unstrapped from his shoulders. Here also were lettuces, andbeneath the lettuces gold. When the full two thousand sestertia werecounted, that is, over fifteen thousand pounds of our money, this secondbasket still remained more than a third full.

  "I ought to have run you up, madam," said the auctioneer, surveying theshining gold with greedy eyes.

  "Yes," she replied calmly, "if you had guessed the truth you might havedone so. But who knows the truth, except myself?"

  "Are you a sorceress?" he asked.

  "Perhaps. What does it matter? At least, the gold will not melt. And,by the way, it is troublesome carrying so much of the stuff back again.Would you like a couple of handfuls for yourself, and say ten pieces foryour clerk? Yes? Well, please first fill in that deed with the namethat I shall give you and with your own as witness? Here it is--'Miriam,daughter of Demas and Rachel, born in the year of the death of HerodAgrippa.' Thank you. You have signed, and the clerk also, I think. Now Iwill take that roll.

  "One thing more, there is another door to this Receiving-house? Withyour leave I should prefer to go out that way, as my newly acquiredproperty seems tired, and for one day has had enough of public notice.You will, I understand, give us a few minutes to depart before youreturn to the rostrum, and your clerk will be so courteous as to escortus out of the Forum. Now help yourself. Man, can't you make your handlarger than that? Well, it will suffice to pay for a summer holiday. Isee a cloak there which may serve to protect this slave from the chillair of the night. In case it should be claimed, perhaps these fivepieces will pay for it. Most noble and courteous sir, again I thank you.Young woman, throw this over your bare shoulders and your head; thatnecklace might tempt the dishonest.

  "Now, if our guide is ready we will be going. Slave, bring the basket,at the weight of which you need no longer groan, and you, young woman,strap on this other basket; it is as well that you should begin to beinstructed in your domestic duties, for I tell you at once that havingheard much of the skill of the Jews in those matters, I have bought youto be my cook and to attend to the dressing of my hair. Farewell, sir,farewell; may we never meet again."

  "Farewell," replied the astonished auctioneer, "farewell, my ladyMulier, who can afford to give two thousand sestertia for a cook! Goodluck to you, and if you are always as liberal as this, may we meet oncea month, say I. Yet have no fear," he added meaningly, "I know when Ihave been well treated and shall not seek you out--even to please Caesarhimself."

  Three minutes later, under the guidance of the clerk, who was asdiscreet as his master, they had passed, quite undisturbed, throughvarious dark colonnades and up a flight of marble stairs.

  "Now you are out of the Forum, so go your ways," he said.

  They went, and the clerk stood watching them until they were rounda corner, for he was young and curious, and to him this seemed thestrangest comedy of the slave-market of which he had ever even heard.

  As he turned to go he found himself face to face with a tall man, inwhom he recognized that merchant of Egypt who had bid for Pearl-Maidenup to the enormous total of fourteen hundred sestertia.

  "Friend," said Demetrius, "which way did your companions go?"

  "I don't know," answered the clerk.

  "Come, try to remember. Did they walk straight on, or turn to the left,or turn to the right? Fix your attention on these, it may help you," andonce more that fortunate clerk found five gold pieces thrust into hishand.

  "I don't know that they help me," he said, for he wished to be faithfulto his hire.

  "Fool," said Demetrius in a changed voice, "remember quickly, or hereis something that will----" and he showed him a dagger glinting in hishand. "Now then, do you wish to go the same road as they carried theJewish girl and the Eastern?"

  "They turned to the right," said the clerk sulkily. "It is the truth,but may that road you speak of be yours who draw knives on honest folk."

  With a bound Demetrius left his side, and for the second time the clerkstood still, watching him go.

  "A strange business," he said to himself, "but, perhaps my master wasright and that old woman is a sorceress, or, perhaps, the young one isthe sorceress, since all men seem ready to pay a tribe's tribute to gethold of her; or, perhaps, they are both sorceresses. A strange story,of which I should like to know the meaning, and so, I fancy, would thePrince Domitian when he comes to hear of it. Saturius, the chamberlain,has a fat place, but I would not take it to-night, no, not if it weregiven to me."

  Then that young man returned to the mart in time to hear his masterknock down Lot thirteen, a very sweet-looking girl, to Saturius himself,who proposed, though with a doubtful heart, to take her to Domitian as asubstitute.

  Meanwhile, Nehushta, Miriam and the steward Stephanus, disguised as aslave, went on as swiftly as they dared towards the palace of Marcusin the Via Agrippa. The two women held each other by the hand but saidnothing; their hearts seemed too full for speech. Only the old stewardkept muttering--"Two thousand sestertia! The savings of years! Twothousand sestertia for that bit of a girl! Surely the gods have smittenhim mad."
<
br />   "Hold your peace, fool," said Nehushta at length. "At least, I am notmad; the property that went with her is worth more than the money."

  "Yes, yes," replied the aggrieved Stephanus, "but how will that benefitmy master? You put it in her name. Well, it is no affair of mine, and atleast this accursed basket is much lighter."

  Now they were at the side door of the house, which Stephanus wasunlocking with his key.

  "Quick," said Nehushta, "I hear footsteps."

  The door opened and they passed in, but at that moment one went by them,pausing to look until the door closed again.

  "Who was that?" asked Stephanus nervously.

  "He whom they called Demetrius, the merchant of Alexandria, but whomonce I knew by another name," answered Nehushta in a slow voice whileStephanus barred the door.

  They walked through the archway into an antechamber lit by a singlelamp, leaving Stephanus still occupied with his bolts and chains. Herewith a sudden motion Nehushta threw off her cloak and tore the veil fromher brow. In another instant, uttering a low, crooning cry, she flungher long arms about Miriam and began to kiss her again and again on theface.

  "My darling," she moaned, "my darling."

  "Tell me what it all means, Nou," said the poor girl faintly.

  "It means that God has heard my prayers and suffered my old feet toovertake you in time, and provided the wealth to preserve you from adreadful fate."

  "Whose wealth? Where am I?" asked Miriam.

  Nehushta made no answer, only she unstrapped the basket from Miriam'sback and unclasped the cloak from about her shoulders. Then, taking herby the hand, she led her into a lighted passage and thence through adoor into a great and splendid room spread with rich carpets and adornedwith costly furniture and marble images. At the end of this room was atable lighted by two lamps, and on the further side of this table sata man as though he were asleep, for his face was hidden upon his arms.Miriam saw him and clung to Nehushta trembling.

  "Hush!" whispered her guide, and they stood still in the shadow.

  The man lifted his head so that the light fell full upon it, and Miriamsaw that it was Marcus. Marcus grown older and with a patch of grey hairupon his temple where the sword of Caleb had struck him, very worn andtired-looking also, but still Marcus and no other. He was speaking tohimself.

  "I can bear it no longer," he said. "Thrice have I been to the gate andstill no sign. Doubtless the plan has miscarried and by now she is inthe palace of Domitian. I will go forth and learn the worst," and herose from the table.

  "Speak to him," whispered Nehushta, pushing Miriam forward.

  She advanced into the circle of the lamplight, but as yet Marcus did notsee her, for he had gone to the window-place to find a cloak that laythere. Then he turned and saw her. Before him in her robe of white, thesoft light shining on her gentle loveliness, stood Miriam. He stared ather bewildered.

  "Do I dream?" he said.

  "Nay, Marcus," she answered in her sweet voice, "you do not dream. I amMiriam."

  In an instant he was at her side and held her in his arms, nor did sheresist him, for after so many fears and sufferings they seemed to her ahome.

  "Loose me, I pray you," she said at length, "I am faint, I can bear nomore."

  At her entreaty he suffered her to sink upon the cushions of a couchthat was at hand.

  "Tell me, tell me everything," he said.

  "Ask it of Nehushta," she answered, leaning back. "I am spent."

  Nehushta ran to her side and began to chafe her hands. "Let be withyour questions," she said. "I bought her, that's enough. Ask that oldhuckster, Stephanus, the price. But first in the name of charity giveher food. Those who have walked through a Triumph to end the day on theslave block need victuals."

  "It is here, it is here," Marcus said confusedly, "such as there is."Taking a lamp he led the way to a table that was placed in the shadow,where stood some meat and fruit with flagons of rich coloured wine andpure water and shallow silver cups to drink from.

  Putting her arm about Miriam's waist, Nehushta supported her to thetable and sat her down upon one of the couches. Then she poured out wineand put it to her lips, and cut meat and made her swallow it till Miriamwould touch no more. Now the colour came back to her face, and her eyesgrew bright again, and resting there upon the couch, she listened whileNehushta told Marcus all the story of the slave sale.

  "Well done," he said, laughing in his old merry fashion, "well done,indeed! Oh! what favouring god put it into the head of that honest oldmiser, Stephanus, from year to year to hoard up all that sum of goldagainst an hour of sudden need which none could foresee!"

  "My God and hers," answered Nehushta solemnly, "to Whom if He give youspace, you should be thankful, which, by the way, is more than Stephanusis, who has seen so much of your savings squandered in an hour."

  "Your savings?" said Miriam, looking up. "Did you buy me, Marcus?"

  "I suppose so, beloved," he answered.

  "Then, then, I am your slave?"

  "Not so, Miriam," he replied nervously. "As you know well, it is I whoam yours. All I ask of you is that you should become my wife."

  "That cannot be, Marcus," she answered in a kind of cry. "You know thatit cannot be."

  His face turned pale.

  "After all that has come and gone between us, Miriam, do you still sayso?"

  "I still say so."

  "You could give your life for me, and yet you will not give your life tome?"

  "Yes, Marcus."

  "Why? Why?"

  "For the reasons that I gave you yonder by the banks of Jordan; becausethose who begat me laid on me the charge that I should marry none who isnot a Christian. How then can I marry you?"

  Marcus thought a moment.

  "Does the book of your law forbid it?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "No, but the dead forbid it, and rather will I jointhem than break their command."

  Again Marcus thought and spoke.

  "Well, then, since I must, I will become a Christian."

  She looked at him sadly and answered:

  "It is not enough. Do you remember what I told you far away in thevillage of the Essenes, that this is no matter of casting incense on analtar, but rather one of a changed spirit. When you can say those wordsfrom your heart as well as with your lips, then, Marcus, I will listento you, but unless God calls you this you can never do."

  "What then do you propose?" he asked.

  "I? I have not had time to think. To go away, I suppose."

  "To Domitian?" he queried. "Nay, forgive me, but a sore heart makesbitter lips."

  "I am glad you asked forgiveness for those words, Marcus," she saidquivering. "What need is there to insult a slave?"

  The word seemed to suggest a new train of thought to Marcus.

  "Yes," he said, "a slave--my slave whom I have bought at a great price.Well, why should I let you go? I am minded to keep you."

  "Marcus, you can keep me if you will, but then your sin against your ownhonour will be greater even than your sin against me."

  "Sin!" he said, passionately. "What sin? You say you cannot marry me,not because you do not wish it, if I understand you right, but for otherreasons which have weight, at any rate with you. But the dead give nocommand as to whom you should love."

  "No, my love is my own, but if it is not lawful it can be denied."

  "Why should it be denied?" he asked softly and coming towards her. "Isthere not much between you and me? Did not you, brave and blessed womanthat you are, risk your life for my sake in the Old Tower at Jerusalem?Did you not for my sake stand there upon the gate Nicanor to perishmiserably? And I, though it be little, have I not done something foryou? Have I not so soon as your message reached me, journeyed here toRome, at the cost, perhaps, of what I value more than life--my honour?"

  "Your honour?" she asked. "Why your honour?"

  "Because those who have been taken prisoner by the enemy and escaped areheld to be cowards among the Romans," he answered
bitterly, "and it maybe that such a lot awaits me."

  "Coward! You a coward, Marcus?"

  "Aye. When it is known that I live, that is what my enemies will call mewho lived on for your sake, Miriam--for the sake of a woman who deniesme."

  "Oh!" she said, "this is bitter. Now I remember and understand whatGallus meant."

  "Then will you still deny me? Must I suffer thus in vain? Think, had itnot been for you I could have stayed afar until the thing was forgotten,that is, if I still chose to live; but now, because of you, things arethus, and yet, Miriam--you deny me," and he put his arms about her anddrew her to his breast.

  She did not struggle, she had no strength, only she wrung her hands andsobbed, saying:

  "What shall I do? Woe is me, what shall I do?"

  "Do?" said the voice of Nehushta, speaking clear as a clarion from theshadows. "Do your duty, girl, and leave the rest to Heaven."

  "Silence, accursed woman!" gasped Marcus, turning pale with anger.

  "Nay," she answered, "I will not be silent. Listen, Roman; I like youwell, as you have reason to know, seeing that it was I who nursed youback to life, when for one hour's want of care you must have died. Ilike you well, and above everything on earth I wish that ere my eyesshut for the last time they may see your hand in her hand, and her handin your hand, man and wife before the face of all men. Yet I tell youthat now indeed you are a coward in a deeper fashion than that theRomans dream of; you are a coward who try to work upon the weakness ofthis poor girl's loving heart, who try in the hour of her sore distressto draw her from the spirit, if not from the letter, of her duty. Sogreat a coward are you that you remind her even that she is your slaveand threaten to deal with her as you heathen deal with slaves. You put agloss upon the truth; you try to filch the fruit you may not pluck; yousay 'you may not marry me, but you are my property, and therefore if yougive way to your master it is no sin.' I tell you it is a sin, doublya sin, since you would bind the weight of it on her back as well as onyour own, and a sin that in this way or in that would bring its rewardto both of you."

  "Have you finished?" asked Marcus coldly, but suffering Miriam to slipfrom his arms back upon the couch.

  "No, I have not finished; I spoke of the fruits of evil; now as my heartprompts me I speak of the promise of good. Let this woman go free as youhave the power to do; strike the chains off her neck and take back theprice that you have paid for her, since she has property which willdischarge it to the last farthing, which property to-day stands in hername and can be conveyed to you. Then, go search the Scriptures and seeif you can find no message in them. If you find it, well and good, thentake her with a clean heart and be happy. If you find it not, well andgood, then leave her with a clean heart and be sorrowful, for so it isdecreed. Only in this matter do not dare to be double-minded, lest thelast evil overtake you and her, and your children and hers. Now I havedone, and, my lord Marcus, be so good as to signify your pleasure toyour slave, Pearl-Maiden, and your servant, Nehushta the Libyan."

  Marcus began to walk up and down the room, out of the light into theshadow, out of the shadow into the light. Presently he halted, and thetwo women watching saw that his face was drawn and ashen, like the faceof an old man.

  "My pleasure," he said vacantly, "--that is a strange word on my lipsto-night, is it not? Well, Nehushta, you have the best of the argument.All you say is quite true, if a little over-coloured. Of course, Miriamis quite right not to marry me if she has scruples, and, of course, Ishould be quite wrong to take advantage of the accident of my being ableto purchase her in the slave-ring. I think that is all I have to say.Miriam, I free you, as indeed I remember I promised the Essenes that Iwould do. Since no one knows you belong to me, I suppose that no formalceremony will be necessary. It is a manumission 'inter amicos,' as thelawyers say, but quite valid. As to the title to the Tyre property,I accept it in payment of the debt, but I beg that you will keep ita while on my behalf, for, at present, there might be trouble abouttransferring it into my name. Now, good-night. Nehushta will take you toher room, Miriam, and to-morrow you can depart whither you will. I wishyou all fortune, and--why do you not thank me? Under the circumstances,it would be kind."

  But Miriam only burst into a flood of tears.

  "What will you do, Marcus? Oh! what will you do?" she sobbed.

  "In all probability, things which I would rather you did not know of,"he answered bitterly, "or I may take it into my head to accept thesuggestion of our friend, Nehushta, and begin to search those Scripturesof which I have heard so much; that seem, by the way, specially designedto prevent the happiness of men and women." Then he added fiercely, "Go,girl, go at once, for if you stand there weeping before me any longer, Itell you that I shall change my mind, and as Nehushta says, imperil thesafety of your soul, and of my own--which does not matter."

  So Miriam stumbled from the room and through the curtained doorway. AsNehushta followed her Marcus caught her by the arm.

  "I have half a mind to murder you," he said, quietly.

  The old Libyan only laughed.

  "All I have said is true and for your own good, Marcus," she answered,"and you will live to know it."

  "Where will you take her?"

  "I don't know yet, but Christians always have friends."

  "You will let me hear of her."

  "Surely, if it is safe."

  "And if she needs help you will tell me?"

  "Surely, and if you need her help, and it can be done, I will bring herto you."

  "Then may I need help soon," he said. "Begone."