Having passed the outer terraces of the amphitheatre in safety, Nehushta turned down a side street, and paused in the shadow of the wall to think what she should do.  So far they were safe; but even if her strength would stand the strain, it seemed impossible that she should carry her mistress through the crowded city and avoid recapture.  For some months they had both of them been prisoners, and as it was the custom of the inhabitants of Caesarea, when they had nothing else to do, to come to the gates of their jail, and, through the bars, to study those within, or even, by permission of the guards, to walk among them, their appearance was known to many.  Doubtless, so soon as the excitement caused by the illness of the king had subsided, soldiers would be sent to hunt down the fugitives who had escaped from the amphitheatre.  More especially would they search for her, Nehushta, and her mistress, since it would be known that one of them had stabbed the warden of the gate, a crime for which they must expect to die by torture.  Also—­where could they go who had no friends, since all Christians had been expelled the city?

No, there was but one chance for them—­to conceal themselves.

Nehushta looked round her for a hiding-place, and in this matter, as in others on that day, fortune favoured them.  This street in the old days, when Caesarea was called Strato’s Tower, had been built upon an inner wall of the city, now long dismantled.  At a distance of a few yards from where Nehushta had stopped stood an ancient gateway, unused save at times by beggars who slept under it, which led nowhere, for the outer arch of it was bricked up.  Into this gateway Nehushta bore her mistress unobserved, to find to her relief that it was quite untenanted, though a still smouldering fire and a broken amphora containing clean water showed her that folk had slept there who could find no better lodging.  So far so good; but here it would be scarcely safe to hide, as the tenants or others might come back.  Nehushta looked around.  In the thick wall was a little archway, beneath which commenced a stair.  Setting Rachel on the ground, she ran up it, lightly as a cat.  At the top of thirty steps, many of them broken, she found an old and massive door.  With a sigh of disappointment, the Libyan turned to descend again; then, by an afterthought, pushed at the door.  To her surprise it stirred.  Again she pushed, and it swung open.  Within was a large chamber, lighted by loopholes pierced in the thickness of the wall, for the use of archers.  Now, however, it served no military purpose, but was used as a storehouse by a merchant of grain, for there in a corner lay a heap of many measures of barley, and strewn about the floor were sacks of skin and other articles.

Nehushta examined the room.  No hiding-place could be better—­unless the merchant chanced to come to visit his store.  Well, that must be risked.  Down she sped, and with much toil and difficulty carried her still swooning mistress up the steps and into the chamber, where she laid her on a heap of sacks.