I pray," he added humbly, "that you will
not think the worse of me, since we men are frail at times. And now,
because you ask me, though I have no right, I grant your prayer. Mayhap
those witnesses lied; at least, the man's sin, if sin there be, can be
excused. He has naught to fear from me."
"No," broke in Nehushta, "but I think you have much to fear from him;
and I am sorry for that, my lord Marcus, for you have a noble heart."
"It may be so; the future is on the knees of the gods, and that which
is fated will befall. My Lady Miriam, I, your humble servant and friend,
wish you farewell."
"Farewell," she answered. "Yes, Nehushta is right, you have a noble
heart"; and she looked at him in such a fashion that it flashed across
his mind that were he to proffer that request of his again, it might
not be refused. But Marcus would not do it. He had tasted of the joy of
self-conquest, who hitherto, after the manner of his age and race, had
denied himself little, and, as it seemed to him, a strange new power
was stirring in his heart--something purer, higher, nobler, than he had
known before. He would cherish it a while.
Of all that were spoken there in the garden, Caleb, the watcher, could
catch no word.
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