“Only this,” the prisoner answered. “I had hidden some food, my own food, which I bought with all that remained of my fortune. Your hyæna-men caught my wife, and tormented her until she showed it them. They fell upon it, and, with their comrades, ate it nearly all. My wife died of starvation and her wounds, my children died of starvation, all except one, a child of six, whom I fed with what remained. Then she began to die also, and I bargained with the Roman, giving him jewels and promising to show him the weak place in the wall if he would convey the child to his camp and feed her. I showed him the place, and he fed her in my presence, and took her away, whither I know not. But, as you know, I was caught, and the wall was built up, so that no harm came of my treason. I would do it again to save the life of my child, twenty times over, if needful. You murdered my wife and my other children; murder me also if you will. I care nothing.” “Wretch,” said Benoni, “what are your miserable wife and children compared to the safety of this holy place, which we defend against the enemies of Jehovah? Lead him away, and let him be slain upon the wall, in the sight of his friends, the Romans.” “I go,” said the victim, rising and stretching out his hands to the guards, “but may you also all be slain in the sight of the Romans, you mad murderers, who, in your lust for power, have brought doom and agony upon the people of the Jews.” Then they dragged him out, and a voice called—“Bring in the next traitor.” Now Miriam was brought forward. Benoni looked up and knew her. “Miriam?” he gasped, rising, to fall back again in his seat, “Miriam, you here?” “It seems so, grandfather,” she answered quietly. “There is some mistake,” said Benoni. “This girl can have harmed none. Let her be dismissed.” The other judges looked up. “Best hear the charge against her first?” said one suspiciously, while another added, “Is not this the woman who dwelt with you at Tyre, and who is said to be a Christian?” “We do not sit to try questions of faith, at least not now,” answered Benoni evasively. “Woman, is it true that you are a Christian?” queried one of the judges. “Sir, I am,” replied Miriam, and at her words the faces of the Sanhedrim grew hard as stones, while someone watching in the crowd hurled a fragment of marble at her. “Let it be for this time,” said the judge, “as the Rabbi Benoni says, we are trying questions of treason, not of faith. Who accuses this woman, and of what?” A man stepped forward, that captain who had wished to put Miriam to death, and she saw that behind him were Caleb, who looked ill at ease, and the Jew who had guarded Marcus. “I accuse her,” he said, “of having released the Roman Prefect, Marcus, whom Caleb here wounded and took prisoner in the fighting yesterday, and brought into the Old Tower, where he was laid till we knew whether he would live or die.”