was
gone.

Chapter VII

IMPERIAL CAESAR

When the Maccabee had returned to the spot in the sedgy valley where
he and Julian had halted, he found the Ephesian white to the lips and
with ignited eyes awaiting him.

"How much longer?" the Ephesian demanded.

"What! Fast and slow!" the Maccabee said calmly. "Last night you
wasted hours to spite me. To-day you begrudge me a moment's talk with
a lovely wayfarer. Or is it because she prefers me? You have ordered
our progress long enough. I shall move when it pleases me."

He sat down by the fire, clasping his hands back of his head, and
half-closed his eyes. The Ephesian rose and tramped restlessly about.
As he glanced down at the reposeful attitude of the man whom he could
not exasperate he saw the sun glitter on the Maccabaean signet on the
hand clasped back of Philadelphus' head. The sight of it in a way
collected Julian's purposes. He knew that by some misadventure he had
missed Aquila whom he had hoped to meet in Emmaus, bearing treasure
stolen from the daughter of Costobarus. By this time, then, the
Maccabee's emissary had doubtless arrived in Jerusalem--the last
possible point for the two conspirators to meet. To proceed to
Jerusalem without the Maccabee, with whatever excuse he could invent,
would not deliver the dowry of the bride into his hands, in the event
that Aquila had not succeeded in his instructions to make way with
Laodice before he reached Jerusalem. Nothing occurred to Julian at
that moment but to impersonate the Maccabee until it was possible to
get possession of the two hundred talents from those friends in
Jerusalem who were interested in his cousin's welfare. No one in
Jerusalem knew Philadelphus Maccabaeus. Aquila, as fellow-conspirator,
would not dare to expose him if Julian appeared as his cousin.
Perilous at best, it seemed the only plan by which he was to get
possession of a fortune which even Caesar would be glad to have.

The resolution formed itself in a brain turbulent with passion and
desperation. He halted silently back of his cousin and with a sudden
flare of intent on his dead white face snatched a dagger from his
girdle and drove it between the shoulders of the Maccabee. Without a
word, Philadelphus turned upon his assailant and started to his feet.
But Julian, catching a glimpse of the dire purpose in his cousin's
darkened eyes, struck again. The knife, blindly wielded, glanced on
the Maccabee's head with wild force. Un