“But—­but is there no other way to take Jerusalem, except—­by predatory warfare?” she hesitated.

“No,” he laughed.  “We are fighting thieves and murderers; they do not understand the open field; we must go into the dark to find them.”

“Then—­then if your soldiers have the good of the city and the love of their fellows in their hearts, and if you feed them and shelter them—­why shall you not succeed?” she asked, speaking slowly as the sum of his advantages occurred to her.

He dropped his hand on hers.

“It lacks one thing; if I have discouragement in my soul, it will weaken my arm, and so the arm of all my army.”

Intuition bade her hesitate to ask for that essential thing; his eyes named it to her and she looked away from him quickly that he might not see the sudden flush which she could not repress.

“Tell me,” she said, “more of that night—­”

“That would be recounting the same incident many times.  But one thing unusual happened; nay, two things.  In the middle of the night, after we had brought in our second enlistment of patriots, we were feeding them and I was giving them instruction.  At the entrance, I had posted a sentry; none of us believed that any one had seen us take refuge in that crypt.  Indeed, we were all frank in our congratulations and defiant in our security.  Suddenly, I saw half of my army scuttle to cover; the rest stood transfixed in their tracks.  I looked up and there before me in the firelight stood a young man, whom I had not, I am convinced, brought in with me.  He was tall, comely, dressed as I have seen the Hindu priests dress in Ephesus, but in garments that were fairly radiant for whiteness.  But his face gave cause enough to make any man lose his tongue.  Believe me, when I say he looked as if he had seen angels, and had talked with the dead.  His eyes gazed through us as if we had been thin air.  So dreadful they were in their unseeing look that every man asked himself what would happen if that gaze should light upon him.  He stood a moment, walked as soft-footed and as swiftly as some shade through our burrow and vanished as he had come.  In all the time he tarried, he made not one sound!”

Laodice was looking at him with awed, but understanding eyes.

“It was Seraiah,” she said in a low voice.  “He entered this place on a day last week.  All the city is afraid of him.”

“So my soldiers told me afterward, between chattering teeth.  He almost damped our patriotism.  We uttered our bombast, sealed our vows and made our sorties, thereafter, every man of us, with our chins over our shoulders!  Spare me Seraiah!  He has too much influence!”

“Is he a madman?” she asked.