indly man first, flashed white with terror, sprang to her feet with a
cry, and whirled to flee up the other side. There she confronted the
Maccabee with hands extended to ward off the encroachment of his
cousin. Without an instant's hesitation she flew into the Maccabee's
arms. His clasp closed around her and she shrank against him, clinging
to the folds of his tunic over his breast with hands that were
tremulous.

Her flight to him for refuge achieved an instant change in the
Maccabee. The fear of defeat, the primal hate of a rival, died in him.
All that remained was big wrath at the presumption and effrontery of
Julian of Ephesus. He had no definite memory of what followed, because
of the rush of blood in his veins, the whirl of pleasurable sensation
in his brain and the weight of a sweet frightened figure pressed to
him. The Ephesian went, leaving an impression of a most vindictive
threat in the glittering smile and the motion of his shapely hand
clenched at the victorious Maccabee. The girl drew away hastily. The
veil was over her face and through its silken meshes he saw the glow
on her cheeks and the sweep of her lowered lashes down upon that
bloom.

She was faltering her thanks and her apologies.

"It is mine to ask pardon," he exclaimed, still smoldering with wrath.
"I had no part in this, except to interfere with this bad companion of
mine. I did not follow you; believe me."

It confused her to know that he had guessed why she had moved from
their encampment the night before. As necessary as old Momus had made
it seem to her then, it seemed now to have been ungrateful. She could
make no reply to that portion of his speech.

"My servant went to the well," she said. "He will return presently. I
am not afraid now."

"I am; you ought to be. I shall wait till your extraordinary servant
returns."

At this decided speech Laodice showed a little panic.

"No, no! I am not afraid. He--"

But the Maccabee ignored the implied dismissal.

"I owe him both a reproof and thanks for leaving you here alone for
any wayfarer to approach--and for me to discover. I wish," gazing
abroad over the broken horizon, "there were no well between here and
Jerusalem, and that he were as thirsty as Tantalus."

She made no reply to this remark, but her whole presence expressed
discomfort in his determination to remain.

"Heathen Hecate ought to get him in these wilds for forcing that cruel
journey on you last night, when you wer