kness, but this did not seem to trouble the
brethren, for again lifting Miriam, they went forward a distance of
thirty or forty paces, Nehushta holding on to Ithiel's robe. Now, at
length, the cold air of this cave, or perhaps its deep gloom and the
motion, awoke Miriam from her swoon-like sleep. She struggled in their
hands, and would have cried out, had not Nehushta bade her to be silent.

"Where am I?" she said. "Is this the hall of death?"

"Nay, lady. Wait a while, all shall be explained."

While she spoke and Miriam clung to her affrighted, Ithiel struck iron
and flint together. Catching the spark upon tinder he blew it to a flame
and lighted a taper which burnt up slowly, causing his white beard and
face to appear by degrees out of the darkness, like that of a ghost
rising from the tomb.

"Oh! surely I am dead," said Miriam, "for before me stands the spirit of
my uncle Ithiel."

"Not the spirit, Miriam, but the flesh," answered the old man in a voice
that trembled with joy. Then, since he could restrain himself no longer,
he gave the taper to the brother, and, taking her in his arms, kissed
her again and again.

"Welcome, most dear child," he said; "yes, even to this darksome den,
welcome, thrice welcome, and blessed be the eternal God Who led our feet
forth to find you. Nay, do not stop to talk, we are still too near the
wall. Give me your hand and come."

Miriam glanced up as she obeyed, and by the feeble light of the taper
saw a vast rocky roof arching above them. On either side of her also
were walls of rough-hewn rock down which dripped water, and piled upon
the floor or still hanging half-cut from the roof, boulders large enough
to fashion a temple column.

"What awful place is this, my uncle?" she asked.

"The cavern whence Solomon, the great king, drew stone for the building
of the Temple. Look, here are his mason's marks upon the wall. Here he
fashioned the blocks and thus it happened that no sound of saw or hammer
was heard within the building. Doubtless also other kings before and
since his day have used this quarry, as no man knows its age."

While he spoke thus he was leading her onwards over the rough,
stone-hewn floor, where the damp gathered in little pools. Following the
windings of the cave they turned once, then again and yet again, so that
soon Miriam was utterly bewildered and could not have found her way back
to the entrance for her life's sake. Moreover, the air had become so hot