misfortune had happened. I had no time for reflection, for before I
could gain any certain information by word of mouth, a captain of the
heathen had seized me, and we came to a life and death struggle before
Miriam's very eyes. My opponent was strong, but I showed the girl--who
had often taunted me for being a weakling because I obeyed my father in
everything--that I need yield to no one. I could not have borne to be
vanquished before her and I flung the heathen to the ground and slew him
with my axe. I was only vaguely conscious of her presence, for during
my severe struggle I could see nothing but my adversary. But suddenly I
heard a loud scream, and Miriam sank bleeding close before me. While I
was kneeling over his comrade one of the Blemmyes had crept up to
me, and had flung his lance at me from a few paces off. But
Miriam--Miriam--"

"She saved you at the cost of her own life," said Petrus completing the
lad's sentence, for at the recollection of the occurrence his voice had
failed and his eyes overflowed with tears.

Hermas nodded assent, and then added softly: "She threw up her arms
and called my name as the spear struck her. The eldest son of Obedianus
punished the heathen that had done it, and I supported her as she fell
dying and took her curly head on my knees and spoke her name; she
opened her eyes once more, and spoke mine softly and with indescribable
tenderness. I had never thought that wild Miriam could speak so sweetly,
I was overcome with terrible grief, and kissed her eyes and her lips.
She looked at me once more with a long, wide-open, blissful gaze, and
then she was dead."

"She was a heathen," said Dorothea, drying her eyes, "but for such a
death the Lord will forgive her much."

"I loved her dearly," said Marthana, "and will lay my sweetest flowers
on her grave. May I cut some sprays from your blooming myrtle for a
wreath?"

"To-morrow, to-morrow, my child," replied Dorothea. "Now go to rest; it
is already very late."

"Only let me stay till Antonius and Jethro come back," begged the girl.

"I would willingly help you to find your son," said Hermas, "and if you
wish I will go to Raithu and Klysma, and enquire among the fishermen.
Had the centurion--" and as he spoke the young soldier looked down in
some embarrassment, "had the centurion found his fugitive wife of whom
he was in pursuit with Talib, the Amalekite, before he died?"

"Sirona has not yet reappeared," replied Petrus, "and per