as killed; and he from falling over a precipice, and
not by the sword of the Romans, you see the peril could not have
been very great.

"It was just as I said, that because we did not throw away our
lives, but were prudent and cautious, we succeeded. People have
made a great fuss about it, because it is the only success, however
small, that we have gained over the Romans but, as my father says,
it has certainly had a good effect. It has excited a feeling of
hopefulness and, in the spring, many will take the field with the
belief that, after all, the Romans are not invincible; and that
those who fight against them are not merely throwing away their
lives."

It was some time before Martha could realize that the hero, of
which she had heard so much, was the quiet lad standing before
her--her own son John.

"Simon," she said, at last, "morning and night I have prayed God to
protect him of whom we heard so much, little thinking that it was
my own son I was praying for. Tonight, I will thank him that he has
so blessed me. Assuredly, God's hand is with him. The dangers he
has run and the success that he has gained may, as he says, be
magnified by report; nevertheless he has assuredly withstood the
Romans, even as David went out against Goliath. Tomorrow I will
hear more of this; but I feel shaken with the journey, and with
this strange news.

"Come, Mary, let us to bed!"

But Mary had already stolen away, without having said a single
word, after her first exclamation.

John was at work soon after daybreak, next morning, for there was
much to be done. The men were plowing up the stubble, ready for the
sowing, Jonas had gone off, with Isaac, to drive in some cattle
from the hills; and John set to work to dig up a patch of garden
ground, near the house. He had not been long at work, when he saw
Mary approaching. She came along quietly and slowly, with a step
altogether unlike her own.

"Why, Mary, is that you?" he said, as she approached. "Why, Miriam
herself could not walk slower.

"Are you ill this morning, child?" he asked, with a change of
voice, as he saw how pale she was looking.

Mary did not speak until she came quite close; then she stopped,
and looked at him with eyes full of tears.

"Oh, John," she began, "what can I say?"

"Why, my dear Mary, what on earth is the matter with you?" he said,
throwing down his spade, and taking her hands in his.

"I am so unhappy, John."

"Unhappy!" John repeated. "Wh