Javan's rage and disappointment knew no bounds. All regard to his sister's feelings--all the compassion that had once been excited by the fate of Theophilus and the sorrow of his relatives--were forgotten, and he burned to plunge his sword to the heart of the Roman who had won the affection of Naomi, and escaped the chastisement which such presumptuous boldness deserved at the hands of every true son of Abraham. He returned with his discomfited followers to the city, and immediately repaired to the house of Simon, to inform him of the ill-success of their enterprise. The chieftain was almost as much disappointed as his colleague, for he had ardently desired to get the brave centurion and his noble son into his power. But his expectations, and those of Javan, had failed; and now they could only endeavour to keep the attempt a secret from Naomi. Reuben was summoned from his place of confinement, and made to swear that he would never reveal the occurrences which had taken place; and then Javan commanded him to go to Deborah in the morning, as had been agreed, and claim the promised reward for his faithful performance of the commission entrusted to him. He directed him to assure her that he had himself seen Marcellus in the garden, and given her young mistress's letter into his own hand, and witnessed his grief and disappointment at reading its contents. The wily Reuben promised to use great discretion and subtlety in preventing the suspicions of Deborah, and left the house, rejoiced to find himself again at liberty and safe from the custody of the terrible Simon.