"When she does return I will meet her and send her out
on a long errand."

"Why?" asked his wife.

"Because it is as well that none should know what guests we have till
they are gone again."

"Until they are gone again!" repeated Julia, astonished. "Surely you
would not drive this maid, who has become to us as our daughter, from
your door?"

"Yes, I would, wife, for that dear maid's sake," and he took Miriam's
little hand in his great palm and pressed it. "Listen now," he went on,
"Miriam, the Jewish captive, has dwelt in our care these many months,
has she not, as is known to all, is it not? Well, if any one wants to
find her, where will they begin by looking?"

"Aye! where?" echoed Nehushta.

"Why should any one wish to find her?" asked Julia. "She was bought in
the slave-market for a great price by the lord Marcus, who, of his own
will, has set her at liberty. Now, therefore, she is a free woman whom
none can touch."

"A free woman!" answered Gallus with scorn. "Is any woman free in Rome
upon whom Domitian has set his mind? Surely, you Christians are too
innocent for this world. Peace now, for there is no time to lose. Julia,
do you cloak yourself and go seek that high-priest of yours, Cyril, who
also loves this maid. Tell the tale to him, and say that if he would
save her from great dangers he had best find some secret hiding-place
among the Christians, for her and her companion, until means can be
found to ship them far from Rome. What think you of that plan, my Libyan
friend?"

"I think that it is good, but not good enough," answered Nehushta. "I
think that we had best depart with the lady, your wife, this very hour,
for who can tell how soon the dogs will be laid upon our slot?"

"And what say you, maid Miriam?" asked Gallus.

"I? Oh! I thank you for your thought, and I say--let us hide in any
place you will, even a drain or a stable, if it will save me from
Domitian."

Two hours later, in a humble and densely peopled quarter of the city,
such as in our own day we should call a slum, where folk were employed
making those articles which ministered to the comfort or the luxury of
the more fortunate, a certain master-carpenter known as Septimus was
seated at his mid-day meal in a little chamber above his workshop.
His hands were rough with toil, and the dust of his trade was upon his
garments and even powdered over his long gray beard, so that at first
sight it would not have been easy to recognis