“Now wade into the sea,” he cried again, and they waded out until the water reached their armpits, when they were seized one by one and dragged into the boat. Many followed them and were also dragged in, until that boat and the other were quite full, whereon they turned and were rowed to the galley. Having embarked them, the two boats went back and again were filled with fugitives, for the most part women and children. Again they went, but as they laded for the third time, the ends of ladders appeared above the encircling walls of the steps, and Syrians could be seen rushing out upon the portico, whence they began to lower themselves with ropes. The end of that scene was dreadful. The boats were full, till the water indeed began to overflow their gunwales, but many still remained upon the steps or rushed into the water, women screaming and holding their children above their heads, and men thrusting them aside in the mad rush for life. The boats rowed off, some who could swim following them. For the rest, their end was the sword. In all, seventy souls were rescued. Miriam flung herself downwards upon the deck of the galley and burst into tears, crying out: “Oh! save them! Can no one save them?” while Benoni seated at her side, the water running from his blood-stained garment, moaned: “My house sacked; my wealth taken; my people slain by the Gentiles!” “Thank God Who has saved us,” broke in old Nehushta, “God and Caleb; and as for you, master, blame yourself. Did not we Christians warn you of what was to come? Well, as it has been in the beginning, so it shall be in the end.” Just then Caleb appeared before them, proud and flushed with triumph, as he well might be who had done great things and saved Miriam from the sword. Benoni rose and, casting his arms about his neck, embraced him. “Behold your deliverer!” he said to Miriam, and stooping down, he drew her to her feet. “I thank you, Caleb. I can say no more,” she murmured; but in her heart she knew that God had delivered her and that Caleb was but His instrument. “I am well repaid,” answered Caleb gravely. “For me this has been a fortunate day, who on it have sunk the great Syrian galley and rescued the woman—whom I love.” “Oath or no oath,” broke in Benoni, bethinking him of what he had promised in the past, “the life you saved is yours, and if I have my way you shall take her and such of her heritage as remains.” “Is this a time to speak of such things?” said Miriam, looking up. “See yonder,” and she pointed to the scene in progress on the seashore. “They drive our friends and servants into the sea and drown them,” and once more she began to weep.