"You are a good little maiden, Miriam," said Totila, taking off his helmet with the silver-white swan's wings, and setting it upon the table. "Where is your father?" "The blessing of the Lord rest upon thy golden locks," said the old man, as he entered the room. "Good even, faithful Isaac!" cried Totila, taking off the long white mantle which hung from his shoulders, and enveloping himself in a brown cloak, which Miriam took down from the wall. "You good people! without you and your faithful silence, all Neapolis would know of my secret. How can I thank you!" "Thank?" said Miriam, fixing her beaming eyes upon him, "you have thanked us beforehand to all eternity!" "No, Miriam," said Totila, pulling a broad-brimmed brown felt hat low down upon his forehead, "that was nothing. Tell me, father Isaac, who is that little man who just went away, and whom I have often met here? It seems to me that he has cast his eyes upon Miriam. Speak frankly. If a dowry is wanting--I would gladly be of use." "Love is wanting--on her side," said Isaac quietly, "Then I can certainly do no good! But if her heart has chosen elsewhere--I should like to do something for my Miriam!" and he laid his hand gently upon the maiden's shining hair. The touch was but slight, but as if a flash of lightning had startled her, Miriam fell suddenly upon her knees. Her head sank upon her bosom, and, crossing her arms, she slipped down at Totila's feet like a flower heavy with dew. Totila drew back a step in surprise. But the next moment the girl had risen. "Forgive, it was only a rose--it fell at your feet," She placed the flower upon the table, and seemed so composed, that neither her father nor Totila thought further of the occurrence. "It is growing dark already; make haste, sir!" she said quietly, and gave him a basket containing flowers and plants. "I go. Valeria is very thankful for all your kindness. I have told her a great deal about you, and she has long wished to see you. Well, perhaps we can soon manage it--to-day is, probably, the last time that I shall need this disguise." "Do you mean to carry off the daughter of Edom?" cried the old man. "Bring her here! here she will be well hidden!" "No," interposed Miriam, "not here! no, no!" "Why not, thou strange child?" asked her father in a tone of annoyance. "This is no place for a bride--this chamber--it would bring her no blessing." "Be not uneasy," said Totila, as he went to the door, "I shall soon put an end to secrecy by sueing for her hand openly. Farewell!" He hastened out. Isaac took the spear, the horn, and several keys from the wall, and followed in order to open the gate for Totila, and make the round of all the doors of the great tower. Miriam remained alone. For a long time she stood with closed eyes motionless on the same spot. At last she passed both hands over her forehead and cheeks, and looked about her.