Alas! her chance had gone, for the man, stretching out his arm, caught her about the middle and held her fast, shouting loudly for help. Miriam struggled, she battered him with the iron and dragged at him with her left hand, but in vain, for in that grip she was helpless as a child who fights against its nurse. While she fought thus she heard the dull thud of the closing stone, and even in her despair rejoiced, knowing that until Marcus was beyond its threshold it could not be shut. Ceasing from her useless struggle she gathered the forces of her mind. Marcus was safe; the door was shut and could not be opened from the further side until another iron was procured; the guard had seen nothing. But her escape was impossible. Her part was played, only one thing remained for her to do—keep silence and his secret. Men bearing lights were rushing into the tower. Her right hand, which held the iron, was free, and lest it should tell a tale she cast the instrument from her towards that side of the deserted place which she knew was buried deep in fallen stones, fragments of rotted timber and dirt from the nests of birds. Then she stood still. Now they were upon her, Caleb at the head of them. “What is it?” he cried. “I know not,” answered the guard. “I heard a sound as of clanking armour and ran in, when some one struck the lantern from my hand, a strong rascal with whom I have struggled sorely, notwithstanding the blows that he rained upon me with his sword. See, I hold him fast.” They held up their lights and saw a beautiful, dishevelled maid, small and frail of stature, whereon they laughed out loud. “A strong thief, truly,” said one. “Why, it is a girl! Do you summon the watch every time a girl catches hold of you?” Before the words died upon the speaker’s lips, another man called out, “The Roman! The Prefect has gone! Where is the prisoner?” and with a roar of wrath they began to search the place, as a cat searches for the mouse that escapes her. Only Caleb stood still and stared at the girl. “Miriam!” he said. “Yes, Caleb,” she answered quietly. “This is a strange meeting, is it not? Why do you break in thus upon my hiding-place?” “Woman,” he shouted, mad with anger, “where have you hidden the Prefect Marcus?” “Marcus?” she answered; “is he here? I did not know it. Well, I saw a man run from the tower, perhaps that was he. Be swift and you may catch him.” “No man left the tower,” answered the other sentry. “Seize that woman, she has hidden the Roman in some secret place. Seize her and search.” So they caught Miriam, bound her and began running round and round the wall. “Here is a staircase,” called a man, “doubtless he has gone up it. Come, friends.” Then taking lights with them, they mounted the stairs to the very top, but found no one. Even as they came down again a trumpet blew and from without rose the sound of a mighty shouting. “What happens now?” said one. As he spoke an officer appeared in the opening of the tower.