Presently he looked up at the
deserted tower as though wondering whether he could make use of it, and
Miriam saw his face. It was Marcus, grown older, more thoughtful also,
and altered somewhat by a short curling beard, but still Marcus and no
other.
"Look! look!" she said.
Nehushta nodded. "Yes, it is he; I thought so from the first. And now,
having seen him, lady, shall we be going?"
"Going?" said Miriam, "wherefore?"
"Because one army or the other may chance to think that this building
would be useful to them, and break open the walled-up door. Also they
might explore this staircase, and then----"
"And then," answered Miriam quietly, "we should be taken. What of it?
If the Jews find us we are of their party; if the Romans--well, I do not
greatly fear the Romans."
"You mean you do not fear one Roman. But who knows, but that he may
presently lie dead----"
"Oh! say it not," answered Miriam, pressing her hand upon her heart.
"Nay, safe or unsafe, I will see this fight out. Look, yonder is
Caleb--yes, Caleb himself, shouting to the Jews. How fierce is his face,
like that of a hyena in a snare. Nay, now I will not go--go you and
leave me in peace to watch the end."
"Since you are too heavy and strong for my old arms to carry down those
steep steps, so be it," answered Nehushta calmly.
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