After a single admiring survey of the hall in which he had been left

alone, the pretended Philadelphus fortified himself against his most

critical test.

Without a sound, without even so much as the rustling of a garment to

announce her, a woman emerged from a passage leading into the interior

of the house. He confronted the only person in Jerusalem who might

know him as an impostor.

The woolen chiton of her countrywomen draped a figure almost too

slender, yet perfect in its delicate modeling. Though her eyes were

black, her hair was fair and brilliant with a wash of gold powder. Her

features were Hellenic, cold, pure and classic, and for all her youth

and beauty there was an atmosphere about her of middle-age, immense

experience, and old sagacity.

The pretender braced himself for the scrutiny the eyes made of him.

"You are that Philadelphus, as my servant tells me?" she asked.

"I am he."

She inclined her head.

"Welcome; in the name of all the need of you!"

After a silence he came closer and lifted her hand to his lips. He

added nothing, but presently raised his eyes softened with feeling and

unexpressed appreciation.

"Certainly you have suffered, lady," he said finally in a subdued

tone. "But please God you will not suffer alone hereafter."

Amaryllis' non-committal front changed.

"You are gentler of speech than is common among the Maccabees," she

said.

"Nevertheless the Maccabees are the more touched by devotion," he

maintained.

He led her to the exedra, unslung his wallet and laid it on the

lectern before them.

"When thou hast leisure, perchance thou wilt find interest in these

papers here."

She thanked him and there was a moment's silence. Under his lashes the

impostor saw that he had not filled her fancied picture of the

Maccabee made from long years of correspondence. She was disappointed;

her intuition was perplexed. He would complete his work and get away

in time.

"My wife is here?" he asked.

"She came yesterday," Amaryllis responded, clapping her hands in

summons. A female servant of such prepossessing appearance that

Philadelphus looked at her again, bowed in the archway.

"Send hither the princess," Amaryllis said.

"The princess," Philadelphus repeated to himself. "Then, by Ate, I am

the prince!"

"While we wait," Amaryllis continued, "let us talk of details which

you may not have patience to hear after she comes. Jerusalem, as you

have learned, is in grave danger--"

"Jerusalem should fear the Roman army less than herself. I have seen

its disease."

"The citizens will hail Titus as a deliverer. But this week's

ceremonies are bringing us disaster. Should Titus be forced to lay

siege about us, how shall we feed this multitude of a million on the

supplies gathered for only a third of that number?"

"Gathered and burned."




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