gh the shouting streets of Rome? No, girl,
best to fight it out. We will seek mercy of Jehovah and not of Titus.
Oh! I would that it were done with, for my heart is broken, and this
judgment is fallen on me--that I, who, of my own will, brought my
daughter to her death, must bring her daughter to death against my will.
If I had hearkened to you, you would have been in Pella, or in Egypt. I
lost you, and, thinking you dead, what I have suffered no man can know.
Now I find you, and because of the office that was thrust upon me, I,
even I, from whom your life has sprung, must bring you to your doom."

"Grandfather," Miriam broke in, wringing her hands, for the grief
of this old man was awful to witness, "cease, I beseech you, cease.
Perhaps, after all, I shall not die."

He looked up eagerly. "Have you hope of escape?" he asked. "Perchance
Caleb----"

"Nay, I know naught of Caleb, except that there is still good in his
heart, since at the last he tried to save me--for which I thank him.
Still, I had sooner perish here alone, who do not fear death in my
spirit, whatever my flesh may fear, than escape hence in his company."

"What then, Miriam? Why should you think----?" and he paused.

"I do not think, I only trust in God and--hope. One of our faith, now
long departed, who foretold that I should be born, foretold also that
I should live out my life. It may be so--for that woman was holy, and a
prophetess."

As she spoke there came a rolling sound like that of distant thunder,
and a voice without called:

"Rabbi Benoni, the wall is down. Tarry not, Rabbi Benoni, for they seek
you."

"Alas! I must begone," he said, "for some new horror is fallen upon us,
and they summon me to the council. Farewell, most beloved Miriam, may
my God and your God protect you, for I cannot. Farewell, and if, by any
chance, you live, forgive me, and try to forget the evil that, in my
blindness and my pride, I have brought upon yours and you, but oh! most
of all upon myself."

Then he embraced her passionately and was gone, leaving Miriam weeping.

CHAPTER XVII

THE GATE OF NICANOR

Another two hours went by, and the lengthening shadows cast through the
stonework of the lattice told Miriam that the day was drawing to its
end. Suddenly the bolts were shot and the door opened.

"The time is at hand," she said to herself, and at the thought her heart
beat fast and her knees trembled, while a mist came before her eyes, so
that she c