ed him on inquiry that
Julian had ridden away.

"Too fair a hope to think that he has deserted me," the Maccabee
observed. "I shall await him a decent time. He will return."

He tramped about the chamber waiting for something that was not
Julian, intending to do something but unable to define that thing.
There was a vague admission that this last pause before his entry into
Jerusalem where he must accomplish so much was an opportunity for some
sort of preparation, but he lacked direction and resource. He was
irritable and purposeless.

Out of the low door that opened into the lewen of the khan he caught
glimpses of the town spread over the tilt of the hill before him. It
had become active since he had looked upon it in the very early hours
of the day. Over the gate he could see the toss of canopies and the
heads of camels passing; he could hear the ring of mule-hooves on the
stones and the tramp of wayfarers. There were shoutings and debate;
the cries of servants and the gossip of parties. All this moved on
always in the direction of Jerusalem. Few paused. The single shop in
Emmaus became active; the khan caught a little of the drift, but the
great body of what seemed to be an unending stream of pilgrims passed
on. The Maccabee spoke to his host.

"What is this?" he asked.

The publican raised his brows.

"Hast never heard of the Passover?" he asked.

The Maccabee started. How far he had drifted from the customs of his
people, to fail to remember its vital feast--he who meant to be king
over the Jews!

He turned away a little abashed. The train of thought awakened by the
khan-keeper's answer led him back to the hieratic customs of his race.
What was his status as a Jew after all these years of delinquency?
What atonement did he owe, what offering should he make?

He went out over the cobbled pavement of the lewen to the gate. Here
he should see part of his people and learn from simple observation
what material he would have in his work for Israel.

From his memories of the old Passovers of his boyhood, he saw
instantly that there had come a change over Judea and the worshiping
sons of Abraham.

They went in bodies, in numbers from a handful from some remote but
pious hamlet to great armies from the leveled cities of Joppa,
Ptolemais and Anthedon, from Caesarea and Tyre and Sidon, from the
enthusiastic towns in Galilee, and even from far-off Antioch and
Ephesus. They were not fewer in number, because of a