By a brief examination Lycidas satisfied himself that the courtier was indeed in a state of unconsciousness, and knew nothing of what was passing around him. The Athenian then went up to Zarah, who, drooping like a broken lily, was slowly following the corpses of her parent and his mother. Lycidas offered her what support he could give; Zarah did not, could not reject it. A deadness seemed coming over her brain and heart; had not Lycidas upheld the poor girl, she must have dropped by the wayside. With what strange emotions did Lycidas through life remember that early walk in Jerusalem! The being whom he loved best was leaning upon him, too much exhausted to decline his aid; there was thrilling happiness in being so near her; but the uppermost feelings in the mind of Lycidas were agonising fear upon Zarah's account, and intense impatience to reach some place of safety. Fearfully slow to Lycidas appeared the progress of the heavily-laden mule, terribly long the way that was traversed. The muleteer purposely avoided that which would have been most direct; he dared not go through one of the city gates, but passed out into the open country at a spot little frequented, where a part of the wall of Jerusalem still lay in ruins, as it had been left by Apollonius. Most unwelcome to Lycidas was the brightening day, which awoke the world to life. Every human form, even that of a child, was to him an object of alarm. The brave young Greek was full of terrors for one who in her grief had lost the sense of personal fear. Partly owing to the skilful selection of paths by Joab, partly owing to the circumstance of the day being still so young, the party did not meet many persons on their way, and these few were of poorer class, early commencing their morning toils. Inquiring glances were cast at the singular cortege, but at that time of bondage and peril, a common sense of misery and danger taught caution and repressed curiosity. Only once was a question asked of the muleteer. "What have you there, Joab, under yon mantle?" inquired a woman with a large jar on her head, who stopped to survey the strange burden of the mule. "A ripe sheaf of the first-fruits, a wave-offering, Deborah," replied Joab, with significance. "There will be more, many more, cut down soon," replied the woman gloomily; "may desolation overtake the Syrian reapers!" Joab saw the Athenian's look of apprehension. "Fear not, stranger," he said; "no Hebrew will betray us; Deborah is true as steel, and knows me well."