Dion heard with amazement, not so much at her statement, for he had more than suspected its truth, but at this new revelation of Deborah's spirit. He exclaimed ardently: "Then flee with me. Come! Come! This night we may be far away, among your own people, among the tribesmen beyond Moab; or we will go to Egypt, or to Greece, or to Rome. My life is yours, Deborah, whenever and for whatever you may need me. Come! We can make safe flight." "No, Dion. Though I may not say I love you, I esteem you too much as my friend, as my father's friend, to let you sacrifice your good name for me. Be true to your duty here, until God Himself give deliverance to His people." "There is no deliverance for your people, Deborah," cried the Greek in despair. "The King's armies are already gathering for another ascent from the plain of Sharon. Within three weeks they will sweep all this land as the tide of the Great Sea covers the sands when the north wind blows." "Then, why will not you go with your men?" exclaimed Deborah, haughtily. "It is better to fight on the high field than to be left behind to guard a girl. Honor and fame are there--here nothing for a great soul; nothing for one who has been trained in the court of Philip and in the army of Perseus of Macedon." Her attitude and voice were so dramatic that they might have turned even Glaucon into a hero. Then her tones became taunting: "Has Dion, son of General Agathocles, no ambition? Are you like a new-born ant that has wings on its back, but suffers them to be torn off by its sisters? Oh, Dion, if I were a man, think you I would be content to play the cat at a mouse-hole, as you are doing here, when the hosts are marching? Go! Let Meton send his citadel cooks. They will be sufficient to watch me here. But not you, Dion! Give up your custody, I beg you." Dion caught her martial spirit, and exclaimed: "Ah, if you were a man, Deborah, I would love you as your ancient Prince Jonathan did the heroic David. Side by side we would fight even for the Jews' cause. I swear it! But," he dropped his voice, and, weighing every word with sincerity and decision, added, "Deborah, I shall remain here with you, unless you will go with me." Deborah's manner instantly changed. Her soldierly enthusiasm became the transport of a prophetess. "Dion, believe me, the host of Gorgias will never make the ascent to Jerusalem. I know it. The sword of our God is in the hand of Judas. The child Caleb sat yesterday looking toward the west, his eyes expanded more largely than ever. 'What do you see?' I asked; for in such moods I have found him to be gifted with a seer's sight.