“I dare say you have managed to get together a few pearls. I mind hearing of some of your race who carried off the biggest pearls from the river on which Londinium is built, and in conducting the barter with the Britons for their masters,[B] well filled their own pouches, as I dare to say yours is filled. Now I must away. Ebba, remember I have fulfilled my vow at the risk of my life; and if ever you see the fair Hyacintha commend me to her with these words, ‘I have kept my vow, and when she makes prayers to the goddess in the temple where her presence lingers, bid her remember Claudius.’” When Claudius was gone the Jew carefully stowed away the coins in his pouch, and drew from it some dried fruit and a small vial of mead. Then he said, “Daughter, for I am to call thee daughter in place of her who is in Abraham’s bosom--better there than in this cold world; come and eat, before we go on our way.” At first Anna refused to eat and drink, but then she remembered the words of Agatha:-- “It may be that the Lord has work for thee to do for Him, and He spares thy life to do it.” After a pause, therefore, she roused herself, and in the dim light which the waning moon shed through the aperture, she saw the Jew’s face--a face lined with furrows, and giving the appearance of a very old man, while, in truth, Ezra was scarcely sixty. Poor Anna felt that she need not fear the old man, and as she saw tears coursing each other down his cheeks she drew nearer to him. “Father,” she said, “I would fain eat, as you desire, and live to help and comfort you.” Ezra shook his head from side to side, rocking himself to and fro, after the fashion of his people. “None can comfort and none can help, but I am as well pleased to have thy company as to be solitary. He setteth the solitary in families,” the old man said. “Are you a Christian?” Anna asked, timidly. She was surprised at the fierce denial that the Jew hurled at her. “A Christian! nay. If you mean a follower of the Nazarene--nay, by the Holy Father, I say _nay_!” Frightened at the sudden change from calm sorrow to vehement rage, Anna said no more. Ezra handed her the vial and the dried fruit, and bade her eat and drink, and said in the strength of that meal they must pursue their way, and that the youth bade them not delay. Before three o’clock the old man and the maiden were on their journey eastward, making their way to the sea. When day dawned, they were about five miles from Radburn, and Ezra halted by a spring, and, stooping down, took a draught of the pure cold water in the hollow of his hand, bidding Anna do the same. Then the Jew drew out more dried fruit; and they reached a straggling village of mud dwellings about noon. The people were friendly, and Ezra thought it wise to tarry there for the rest and refreshment of his companion, who was, indeed, but the ghost of the Ebba whom we first saw standing by Cæcilia’s couch.