As she sat up
they vanished. She remained still, pretending to sleep, and again they
appeared, scanning her closely and whispering to each other in eager
tones. Suddenly one of the faces turned a little so that the light fell
on it. Now Nehushta knew why in her dream it had seemed familiar, and in
her heart thanked God.
"Brother Ithiel," she said in a quiet voice, "why do you hide like a
coney in these rocks?"
Both heads disappeared, but the sound of whispering continued. Then one
of them rose again among the green grasses as a man might rise out of
water. It was Ithiel's.
"It is indeed you, Nehushta?" said his well-remembered voice.
"Who else?" she asked.
"And that lady who sleeps at your side?"
"Once they called her Queen of the Essenes; now she is a hunted
fugitive, waiting to be massacred by Simon, or John, or Eleazer, or
Zealots, or Sicarii, or any other of the holy cut-throats who inhabit
this Holy City," answered Nehushta bitterly.
Ithiel raised his hands as though in thankfulness, then said:
"Hush! hush! Here the very birds are spies. Brother, creep to that rock
and look if any men are moving."
The Essene obeyed, and answered, "None; and they cannot see us from the
wall."
Ithiel motioned to him to return.
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