"Stay, Benjamin!" cried Deborah, thrusting aside the curtains. She stood a moment at the opening, scarcely recognizing her brother in the heavy-lipped and maudlin face, the artificial curls, and the costume of a Greek exquisite. Benjamin stared an instant in stupid curiosity, then took a step or two in fright. "It is I! And Caleb!" cried Deborah, seizing his hands and putting them about herself, and pressing her face to his. "God has been good to us, and brought us home, Benjamin," shouted Caleb, eager for his embrace. "It is true. Yes, yes, it must be so," said Glaucon, at length coming to his senses, with a flash of his old affectionate nature, like a waning ember, lighting up his face with a suggestion of its former beauty. He drew his sister and brother both to the couch, and sat between them, staring from one to the other. "And you? You were not killed? What has happened? Where were you taken?" A few words sufficed to tell him all that she cared to have him know--that she had fled for her life; had fallen among friends; had not dared to return to Jerusalem before this, fearing some repetition of the insults such as Apollonius had once offered her. But that now the Governor was gone, she had come again to be under the care of her natural and legal guardian, "and, God willing," she said, "that the house of Elkiah may again be graced by the presence of woman and child." Glaucon's manner evidenced much restraint. He was not at ease in expressing even the kindliness and affection he felt, for he had felt so little of these emotions that he had no words in readiness to convey them. There was the difference between his brotherly welcome and that given by the old servants that there is between the shaduff, toilsomely lifting its bucket of water at a time, and a fountain pouring out its welcome to the upcoming flowers. Very soon the sentimental part of the interview was past, and Glaucon proceeded to the practical. "If, my sister, you are to abide at home, since the King is extremely jealous of the loyalty of the old Jewish families, it would be well to adopt a name less clannish than your present one." "Call me what you will, brother. I will know myself only by the name my mother gave me. I can, however, quickly interpret any other word into that." Glaucon's mind was opaque to the fine sarcasm of his sister; he proceeded: "Berenice is a beautiful name among the Greeks. You know the story of Queen Berenice? No? Then I will tell it to you as I have heard the Princess Helena tell it. I think the Princess has hair like Berenice's, soft and silky as glistening light. You must come to know the Princess." "But the story of Berenice?" interjected Deborah, wearily.