“Oh, he wouldn’t do that,” returned Patricia quickly, wondering how she should decide. There was an uneasy sensation at the back of her mind, that in her present position she ought not to attend a Christian church; but the desire to form one of the party conquered. After all, she was acquainted with so few people in Jerusalem that it was very improbable that she would meet anyone she knew. But she made up her mind to tell her husband that same night; she had no wish to act clandestinely. They set out just as the bells began to ring, the Devonian curate in attendance. Passing through the Damascus Gate, they paused at El Hieremîyeh—the “green hill far away, without a city wall,” which some believed, with General Gordon, to be the true Calvary, in preference to the site within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Certain it was that the caves on the southern side gave it the appearance of “the place which is called the place of a skull”; and it was the Jews’ traditional place of execution. Below was a garden, containing a rock-hewn sepulchre, which might well have been the “new tomb” belonging to Joseph of Arimathea; but by some it was said to be fifth-century work, and its authenticity was open to question. To the Princess it seemed well that the exact locality of the Great Redemption should never be decided; for the place was surely too sacred to be desecrated by the wrangling of the various Christian denominations for its possession, which had so often led to bloodshed; by gaudy altars, the bartering of candles, the gross irreverence of the Mohammedan guardians. Better far that the exact spot where Divine Love was crucified should remain unknown, since that knowledge, instead of making for reverent peace, would only serve to engender strife. They had just examined the cave called Jeremiah’s grotto, at the foot of the hill, when Patricia became conscious of a man in the attire of a Jerusalemite Christian, who seemed to be watching her with special intent. Every time she looked in his direction she encountered the dog-like expression of his melancholy eyes, and as he did not attempt to ask for _backsheesh_, she wondered why he favoured her with his regard. When they left the grotto, he walked, or rather glided away in an opposite direction, but no sooner had they arrived at the Tombs of the Kings than he suddenly reappeared, although it was impossible to tell which way he had come. Patricia felt vaguely alarmed, but she scarcely liked to communicate her nervousness to the others. The last bell of St. George’s opposite had almost ceased, and there was no time to look at the tombs, so they crossed over and entered the church without delay. The man also crossed, peered into the vestibule, and then withdrew; but, unobserved by Patricia, re-entered when the service began, and remained until the beginning of the sermon.