Thus matters went on till noon, the besiegers galling them with their arrows from the land side and the galley battering them from the sea, while they could do little or nothing in return, having no engines. Benoni called a council and set out the case, which was desperate enough. It was evident, he said, that they could not hold out another day, since at nightfall the Syrians would cross the narrow protecting ditch and set up a battering-ram against the inner wall. Therefore, they must do one of two things—sally out and attempt to cut their way through and gain open country, or fight on and at the last kill the women and children and rush out, those that were left of them, to be hacked down by the besieging thousands. As the first plan gave no hope, since, cumbered as they were with helpless people, they could not expect to escape the city, in their despair they decided on the second. All must die, therefore they would perish by each other’s hands. When this decision was known, a wail went up from the women and the children began to scream with fright, those of them who were old enough to understand their doom. Nehushta caught Miriam by the arm. “Come to the highest roof,” she said; “it is safe from the stones and arrows, and thence, if need be, we can hurl ourselves into the water and die an easy death.” So they went and crouched there, praying, for their case was desperate. Suddenly Nehushta touched Miriam and pointed to the sea. She looked and saw another galley approaching fast as oars and sails could bring her. “What of it?” she asked heavily. “It will but hasten the end.” “Nay,” replied Nehushta, “this ship is Jewish; she does not fly the Eagles, or a Phœnician banner. Behold! the Syrian vessel is getting up her anchors and preparing for fight.” It was true enough, for now the oars of the Syrian shot out and she forged ahead towards the newcomer. But just then the current caught her, laying her broadside on, whereon the Jewish ship, driven by the following wind, shifted her helm and, amidst a mighty shouting from sea and shore, drove down upon her, striking her amidships with its beak so that she heeled over. Then there was more tumult, and Miriam closed her eyes to shut out the horrid sight. When she opened them again the Syrian galley had vanished, only the water was spotted with black dots which were the heads of men. “Gallantly done!” screamed Nehushta. “See, she anchors and puts out her boats; they will save us yet. Down to the water-gate!” On their way they met Benoni coming to seek them, and with him won the steps which were already crowded with fugitives. The two boats of the galley drew near and in the bow of the first of them stood a tall and noble-looking figure. “It is Caleb,” said Miriam, “Caleb who has come to save us.” Caleb it was indeed. At a distance of ten paces from the steps he halted his boat and called aloud: “Benoni, Lady Miriam and Nehushta, if you still live, stand forward.” They stood forward.