Julian halted.

"Shall we camp here?" he asked.

"It hath the recommendation of variety," the Maccabee said wearily.

"Eheu! How I shall miss the greensward of Ephesus! Yes, we'll camp!"

They dismounted and while Julian unpacked their blankets, the Maccabee

collected dead reeds and cedar twigs and built a fire. Then he

stretched himself by the sweet-smelling flame.

"She can not have kept up with our horses; indeed it is unlikely that

they moved far," he thought, and thus assured that there was no danger

to the girl for whom he had become a self-constituted guardian, he ate

a piece of bread, drank a cup of wine and fell asleep.

His slumber was not entirely unconscious. So long as the movements of

his cousin continued regular about him, he lay still, but once, when

Julian approached too near, his eyes opened full in the face of the

man about to lean over him. The Ephesian raised himself hastily and

the Maccabee's eyes closed again.

"A pest on an eye that only half sleeps!" Julian said to himself. "He

hasn't lost count on the minutes since he left Cæsarea!"

The morning broke, the sun mounted, the deserted road became populous

with all the previous day's host of pilgrims, and the silence in the

hills failed before the procession that should not cease till night

fell again. Through all the shouting at camel and mule, the talk of

parties and the dogged trudging of lonely and uncompanionable

solitaries, the Maccabee slept. From time to time Julian, who had

wakened early, gazed with smoldering eyes at the insolent composure of

his enemy sleeping. But slumber with so little control over the senses

of a man was not to be depended upon for any work that demanded

stealth. At times the gaze he bent upon the long lazy shape half

buried in the raw-edged grass was malevolent with uneasiness and hate.

Again, some one of the passing travelers that bore a resemblance to

the expected Aquila would bring the Ephesian to his feet, only to sink

back again with a muttered imprecation at his disappointment.

"A pest on the waxen-hearted satyr!" he said to himself finally. "Why

should he have been more faithful to me than to his first employer! I

am old enough to have learned by this time not to trust my success to

any man but myself. Now where am I to look for him--Ephesus, Syene,

Gaul, Medea? Jerusalem first! By Hecate, the fellow is handsome! And

these Jewesses are impressionable!"

The rumination was broken off suddenly by a glimpse of an old deformed

man bearing a burden on his shoulders, followed by a slender figure,

jealously wrapped in a plebeian mantle that left only a hem of silver

tissue under its border. They were skirting along the brow of the hill

opposite, away from the rest of the pilgrims on the road. Both were

walking slowly and the old man seemed to be examining the farther

slope, as if meditating a halt. Julian got upon his feet and watched.

He saw the old man sign to the girl presently and they moved down the

farther side of the hill and were lost to view.




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