“Both journeys began with death, Nou.”

“As all journeys end.  Blackness behind and blackness in front, and between them a space of sunshine and shadow—­that is the law.  Yet have no fear, for dead Anna, who had the gift of prophecy, foretold that you should live out your life, though with me, whose days are almost done, it may be otherwise.”

Miriam’s face grew troubled.

“I fear neither life nor death, Nou, who am willing to meet either as may chance.  But to part with you—­ah! that thought makes me fear.”

“I think that it will not be yet awhile,” said Nehushta, “for although I am old, I still have work to do before I lay me down and sleep.  Come, Caleb calls us.  We are to disembark while the weather holds.”

So Miriam entered the boat with her grandfather and others who had escaped, for the faces of all of them were set towards Jerusalem, and was rowed to the shore over that very rock where first she drew her breath.  Here they found Jews who had been watching for the coming of the galley.  These men gave them a kind reception, and, what they needed even more, food, fire and some beasts of burden for their journey.

When all were gathered on the beach Caleb joined them, having handed over the galley to another Jew, who was to depart in her with those that waited on the shore, upon some secret mission of intercepting Roman corn-ships.  When these men heard what he had done at Tyre, at first they were inclined to be angry, since they said that he had no authority to risk the vessel thus, but afterwards, seeing that he had succeeded, and with no loss of men, praised him and said that it was a very great deed.

So the galley put about and sailed away, and they, to the number of some sixty souls, began their journey to Jerusalem.  A little while later they came to a village, the same where Nehushta had found the peasant and his wife, whose inhabitants, at the sight of them, fled, thinking that they were one of the companies of robbers that hunted the land in packs, like wolves, plundering or murdering all they met.  When they learnt the truth, however, these people returned and heard their story in silence, for in those days such tales were common enough.  As it came to an end a withered, sunburned woman advanced to Nehushta, and, laying one hand upon her arm, pointed with the other at Miriam, saying: 

“Tell me, friend, is that the babe I suckled?”

Then Nehushta, knowing her to be the nurse who had travelled with them to the village of the Essenes, greeted her, and answered “Yea,” whereupon the woman cast her arms about Miriam and embraced her.

“Day by day,” she said, “have I thought of you, little one, and now that my eyes have seen you grown so sweet and fair, I care not—­I whose husband is dead and who have no children—­how soon they close upon the world.”  Then she blessed her, and called upon her angel to protect her yonder in Jerusalem, and found her food and an ass to ride; and so they parted, to meet no more.