She bowed and withdrew.  As she passed out a servant stepped aside to give her room and at a sign from his master approached.

“A messenger from Philip of Tyre,” he said.

A moment later an old courier carrying a sheepskin wallet came into the chamber.  He salaamed and produced a tablet which he handed to Costobarus.

  Herewith, O my brother, I send thee one hundred talents.  May it
  prove part of the corner-stone of a new Israel.  Peace to thee and
  thine!

  Philip of Tyre.

Costobarus looked up at the old courier.

“Take my blessings to thy master.  May he come to a high seat in that new Israel which he hath helped to build!  Farewell.”

The courier withdrew.  When his footsteps died away the old merchant reached under the divan and drew forth the shittim-wood box.  Producing a key he unlocked and opened it.  From his bosom he drew forth the letter from Philadelphus and laid it within.

“Let her take it with her,” he said, speaking aloud.  “Here,” lifting a cylinder of old silver exquisitely chased, “are her marriage papers; this,” lifting delicately embroidered squares of linen, “her marriage tokens, and here, her dowry.”

He opened the inner box and laid the sheepskin wallet in upon the gems.  He closed the lid, and, locking the case, lifted it and set it beside him on the divan.

When he looked up, he saw a man standing within a few paces of him and perfunctorily gazing at anything but the display of Laodice’s fortune.

He was lean, muscular, somewhat younger than forty but already gray at the temples, of nervous temperament, direct of gaze and of attractive presence.  He wore a tunic of gray wool bordered with red, and a gray mantle hung negligently from his shoulders.  Limbs and arms were bare and his head-covering of red wool hung from his arm.

Costobarus, a little discomfited that he had been surprised with Laodice’s dowry exposed, spoke briskly.

“Well, Aquila?  Prepared?”

“Everything is in order.  I am ready to proceed at once.”

“How many in your party?”

“But myself.”

“Have you ever been to Jerusalem?”

“Never.”

“How, then,” Costobarus asked, with a keen look, “came Philadelphus to appoint you to conduct Laodice to the city?”

“His retinue is small; he could not come himself, and he chose me as safer than the other member of his party,” was the direct reply.

Costobarus studied this reply before he questioned his son-in-law’s courier further.

“Jerusalem, they say, is in disorder.  How will you get my daughter to shelter when you have reached the city?”

“Philadelphus hath instructed me that there will be a Greek at the Sun Gate daily, awaiting us.  He will wear a purple turban embroidered with a golden star.  He will conduct us to the house of Amaryllis the Seleucid, who is pledged to the Maccabee’s cause.  Philadelphus will be in her house.”