"Our first object now, beloved one," said he, "must be to place your person in safety. As you will not seek refuge in Attica, we will bend our course southward--if such be your wish--and find out your aged relative at Bethsura. I would fain that she dwelt in any other direction; for Bethsura itself holds a Syrian garrison, the army of Lysias is advancing, and southern Judaea is so infested by armed bands that travelling is scarcely safe. Have you no friends, no relatives, in Galilee, or on the sea-coast?" Zarah shook her head. "I know not of one," she replied. "Rachel dwells not in Bethsura but near it, and in a spot so retired that the enemy is scarcely likely to find it out. If the country be infested by armed bands--they are the followers of Maccabeus, and from them we have nothing to dread." Though Lycidas was not a little disappointed at having to give up his first scheme--that of bearing off Zarah to the coast, and thence to Attica--he could not but respect her scruples, and own that the course upon which she had decided was not only the most dutiful but the most wise. It was agreed therefore that Zarah, under the escort of Lycidas, should start at the hour which the Greek had first proposed; but that, instead of Joppa, her destination should be Bethsura--at which place, by travelling all night, she might hope to arrive before dawn. While Zarah was concluding these arrangements with Lycidas, Anna returned from Jerusalem. The face of the faithful servant expressed anxiety; a warning dropped in her ear by a Hebrew acquaintance had rendered her uneasy on account of her mistress. "Beware! dogs are on the scent of the deer." Heartily glad was the handmaid to find that the Athenian lord had come to aid the escape of Zarah; his talents, his courage, the gold which he so lavishly spent, would, as she thought, clear away all difficulties attending their flight. The Greek soon left the lady and her attendant to make needful preparations for a journey so sudden and unexpected as that which was before them. CHAPTER XXXI. NIGHT TRAVELLING. The enforced hastiness of Zarah's departure rendered it perhaps less painful than it would otherwise have been. Zarah had little time to indulge in tender regrets on leaving a spot which memory still peopled with loved forms, giving a life to lifeless objects, making the table at which Hadassah had sat so often, the wheel at which she had spun, the plants that she had nurtured, things too precious to be parted from without a pang. There was little which Zarah could take with her in a litter; save the parchments, some articles of dress and her few jewels, all must be left behind.