She was not happy, although to them
she became as a daughter. Who could be happy even in the sunshine of
a peaceful present, that walked her world between two such banks of
shadow? Behind was the shadow of the terrible past; in front, black
and forbidding, rose the shadow of the future, which might be yet more
terrible, the future when she would be the slave of some man unknown.
Sometimes walking with Julia, humbly dressed and mingling with the
crowd, her head-dress arranged to hide her face as much as might be, she
saw the rich lords of Rome go by in chariots, on horseback, in litters,
all sorts and conditions of them, fat, proud men with bold eyes;
hard-faced statesmen or lawyers; war-worn, cruel-looking captains;
dissolute youths with foppish dress and perfumed hair, and shuddering,
wondered whether she was appointed to any one of these. Or was it,
perhaps, to that rich and greasy tradesman, or to yon low-born freedman
with a cunning leer? She knew not, God alone knew, and in Him must be
her trust.
Once as Miriam was walking thus, gorgeously clad slaves armed with rods
of office appeared, bursting a way through the crowded streets to an
accompaniment of oaths and blows. After these came lictors bearing
the fasces on their shoulders; then a splendid chariot drawn by white
horses, and driven by a curled and scented charioteer.
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