e in him that Cyril who was
a bishop among the Christians. Yet it was he, one of the foremost of the
Faith in Rome.

A woman entered the room and spoke with him in a low voice.

"The dame Julia, the wife of Gallus, and two others with her?" he said.
"Well, we need fear none whom she brings; lead them hither."

Presently the door opened and Julia appeared, followed by two veiled
figures. He raised his hands to bless her, then checked himself.

"Daughter, who are these?" he said.

"Declare yourselves," said Julia, and at her bidding Miriam and Nehushta
unveiled.

At the sight of Miriam's face the bishop started, then turned to study
that of her companion.

"Who vouches for this woman?" he asked.

"I vouch for myself," answered Nehushta, "seeing that I am a Christian
who received baptism a generation since at the hands of the holy John,
and who stood to pay the price of faith in the arena at Caesarea."

"Is this so?" asked the bishop of Miriam.

"It is so," she answered. "This Libyan was the servant of my
grandmother. She nursed both my mother and myself, and many a time has
saved my life. Have no fear, she is faithful."

"Your pardon," said the bishop with a grave smile and addressing
Nehushta, "but you who are old will know that the Christian who
entertains strangers sometimes entertains a devil." Then he lifted up
his hands and blessed them, greeting them in the name of their Master.

"So, maid Miriam," he said, still smiling, "it would seem that I was no
false prophet, and though you walked in the Triumph and were sold in the
slave-ring--for this much I have heard--still the Angel of the Lord went
with you."

"Father, he went with me," she answered, "and he leads me here."

Then they told him all the tale, and how Miriam sought a refuge from
Domitian. He looked at her, stroking his long beard.

"Is there anything you can do?" he asked. "Anything useful, I mean? But
perhaps that is a foolish question, seeing that women--especially those
who are well-favoured--do not learn a trade."

"I have learnt a trade," answered Miriam, flushing a little. "Once I
was held of some account as a sculptor; indeed I have heard that your
Emperor Nero decreed divine honours to a bust from my hand."

The bishop laughed outright. "The Emperor Nero! Well, the poor madman
has gone to his own place, so let us say no more of him. But I heard of
that bust; indeed I saw it; it was a likeness of Marcus Fortunatus, was
it not, a