For eight days the streets of the city and all the highways leading to its gates from valley and hill were thronged with processions bearing palm branches, and shouting the old Hallel psalms. In many groups were those who had not touched hands for years; men who had come out of hiding-places where they had taken covert from the incessant persecution. Some came laden with their goods, making willing offerings of coins and jewels to swell the fund for the glorious work. At each nightfall every house gleamed like a constellation with crowded lights in doorway and window, and on parapet and dome. The Temple plaza blazed with great fires which sent beams of hope far over the Judean hills, and by the glare in the sky proclaimed the triumph of Israel to the camps of the enemy beyond the borders. One house outshone all other private dwellings on the third night of the Feast of Dedication. It stood near to the western gate, close by the Tower of David, with the city's breadth separating it from the Temple. The fires on the roof of this house saluted as with waving hands of flame the blazing glory of the Temple Mount. This was the old mansion of Shattuck, for years deserted, but now reoccupied by its new-found inheritor. Between this house and that of Elkiah the streets were densely crowded on that third night. At the middle hour a cry rent the air: "She comes! She comes!" Close back against the houses the people were massed. There was no need of official command, for the populace was moved by a common gladness and reverence. There was but one instance of what would have seemed to a stranger a breach of decorum. Down the street came Meph waving his crutch like the baton of a marshal, and shouting: "Make way! Make way for the Daughter of Jerusalem! Way for the bride of Ben Shattuck!" No one rebuked the lad, for the story of his part in bringing about the regeneration of the popular Greek into a Jew was well known. "Bless the boy!" was the only comment heard as his heels conducted both himself and the pageant that followed. The procession was more artistically heralded by bands of players on flute and tabor, succeeded by those leading the multitude in the ancient marriage song of the people. Amid a hundred torches was seen the gigantic form of Judas together with his brethren. For this hour at least all traces of solemnity and care were banished from his face, as he led the "friends of the bridegroom," who, according to the time-honored custom, were conducting the bride to the house of her husband. As Deborah appeared surrounded by her maidens the cries, "Long live Judas Maccabæus!" were quickly changed. "Joy! joy to the daughter of Elkiah! Long live Deborah, the Daughter of Jerusalem!" rang from a thousand lips. The happy crowd hurried along as if impelled by their own huzzas, until the bride disappeared within the portal of the house of Shattuck. * * * * *