“Thus we meet again, Miriam,” he said, his proud face softening as he spoke and his eyes gazing on her with a sort of rapture.  “Are you pleased to see me?”

“Surely, Caleb,” she answered.  “Who would not be well pleased to meet the playfellow of her childhood?”

He frowned, for childhood and its play were not in his thoughts.  Before he could speak again Benoni commanded the company to be seated, whereon Miriam took her accustomed place as mistress of the house.

To her surprise Caleb seated himself beside her on the couch that should have been reserved for the oldest guest, who for some moments was left a wanderer and wrathful, till Benoni, seeing what had passed, called him to his side.  Then, golden vessels of scented water having been handed by slaves to each guest in turn, the feast began.  As Miriam was about to dip her fingers in the water she remembered the ring upon her left hand and turned the bezel inwards.  Caleb noted the action, but said nothing.

“Whence come you, Caleb?” she asked.

“From the wars, Miriam.  We have thrown down the gate to Rome, and she has picked it up.”

She looked at him inquiringly and asked, “Was it wise?”

“Who can tell?” he answered.  “At least it is done.  For my part I hesitated long, but your grandfather won me over, so now I must follow my fate.”

Then he began to tell her of the taking of Masada and of the bloody struggles of the factions in Jerusalem.

After this he spoke of the Essenes, who still occupied their village, though in fear, for all about them was much fighting; and of their childish days together—­talk which pleased her greatly.  Whilst they spoke thus, a messenger entered the room and whispered something into the ear of Benoni, who raised his hands to Heaven as though in gratitude.

“What tidings?” asked one.

“This, my friends.  Cestius Gallus the Roman has been hunted from the walls of Jerusalem and his army is destroyed in the pass of Beth-horon.”

“God be praised!” said the company as though with one voice.

“God be praised,” repeated Caleb, “for so great and glorious a victory!  The accursed Romans are fallen indeed.”

Only Miriam said nothing.

“What is in your mind?” he asked looking at her.

“That they will spring up again stronger than before,” she replied, then at a signal from Benoni, rose and left the feast.

From the supper chamber Miriam passed down a passage to the portico and there seated herself, resting her arms upon the marble balustrade and listening to the waves as they lapped against the walls below.