"
"At least, Miriam," Caleb went on, humbly, for her bitter words, unjust
as they were in part, seemed to crush him, "at least, I strove my best
for you to-day--after I found time to think."
"Yes," she answered, "to think that other lions would get the lamb which
you chance to desire for yourself."
"More," he continued, taking no note. "I have made a plan."
"A plan to do what?"
"To escape. If I give the signal on your way to the gate where I must
lead you, you will be rescued by certain friends of mine who will hide
you in a place of safety, while I, the officer, shall seem to be cut
down. Afterwards I can join you and under cover of the night, by a way
of which I know, we will fly together."
"Fly? Where to?"
"To the Romans, who will spare you because of what you did
yesterday--and me also."
"Because of what _you_ did yesterday?"
"No--because you will say that I am your husband. It will not be true,
but what of that?"
"What of it, indeed?" asked Miriam, "since it can always become true.
But how is it that you, being one of the first of the Jewish warriors,
are prepared to fly and ask the mercy of your foes? Is it because----"
"Spare to insult me, Miriam. You know well why it is.
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