ered right some few minutes
before the shutters of that window had been closed, now they were open,
revealing two heavy curtains of blue embroidered silk. Miriam thought
this strange, and, without seeming to do so, kept her eyes fixed upon
the curtains. Presently, for her sight was good, she saw fingers between
them--long, dark-coloured fingers. Then very slowly the curtains were
parted, and in the opening thus made appeared a face, the face of an old
woman, dark and noble looking and crowned with snow-white hair. Even at
that distance Miriam knew it in an instant.

Oh, Heaven! it was the face of Nehushta, Nehushta whom she thought dead,
or at least for ever lost. For a moment Miriam was paralysed, wondering
whether this was not some vision born of the turmoil and excitement of
that dreadful day. Nay, surely it was no vision, surely it was Nehushta
herself who looked at her with loving eyes, for see! she made the sign
of the cross in the air before her, the symbol of Christian hope and
greeting, then laid her finger upon her lips in token of secrecy and
silence. The curtain closed and she was gone, who not five seconds
before had so mysteriously appeared.

Miriam's knees gave way beneath her, and while the marshals shouted
to the procession to set forward, she felt that she must sink to the
ground. Indeed, she would have fallen had not some woman in the crowd
stepped forward and thrust a goblet of wine into her hands, saying:

"Drink that, Pearl-Maiden, it will make your pale cheeks even prettier
than they are."

The words were coarse, but Miriam, looking at the woman, knew her for
one of the Christian community with whom she had worshipped in the
catacombs. So she took the cup, fearing nothing, and drank it off. Then
new strength came to her, and she went forward with the others on that
toilsome, endless march.

At length, however, it did end, an hour or so before sunset. They had
passed miles of streets; they had trodden the Sacred Way bordered by
fanes innumerable and adorned with statues set on columns; and now
marched up the steep slope that was crowned by the glorious temple of
Jupiter Capitolinus. As they began to climb it guards broke into their
lines, and seizing the chain that hung about the neck of Simon, dragged
him away.

"Whither do they take you?" asked Miriam as he passed her.

"To what I desire--death," he answered, and was gone.

Now the Caesars, dismounting from their chariots, took up their