“The Roman Prefect, Marcus?” said one. “Why, he is the friend of Titus, and would have been worth more to us than a hundred common men. Also, throughout this war, none has done us greater mischief. Woman, if, indeed, you let him go, no death can repay your wickedness. Did you let him go?” “That is for you to discover,” answered Miriam, for now that Marcus was safe she would tell no more lies. “This renegade is insolent, like all her accursed sect,” said the judge, spitting on the ground. “Captain, tell your story, and be brief.” He obeyed. After him that soldier was examined from whose hand Miriam had struck the lantern. Then Caleb was called and asked what he knew of the matter. “Nothing,” he answered, “except that I took the Roman and saw him laid in the tower, for he was senseless. When I returned the Roman had gone, and this lady Miriam was there, who said that he had escaped by the doorway. I did not see them together, and know no more.” “That is a lie,” said one of the judges roughly. “You told the captain that Marcus had been her lover. Why did you say this?” “Because years ago by Jordan she, who is a sculptor, graved a likeness of him in stone,” answered Caleb. “Are artists always the lovers of those whom they picture, Caleb?” asked Benoni, speaking for the first time. Caleb made no answer, but one of the Sanhedrim, a sharp-faced man, named Simeon, the friend of Simon, the son of Gioras, the Zealot, who sat next to him, cried, “Cease this foolishness; the daughter of Satan is beautiful; doubtless Caleb desires her for himself; but what has that to do with us?” though he added vindictively, “it should be remembered against him that he is striving to hide the truth.” “There is no evidence against this woman, let her be set free,” exclaimed Benoni. “So we might expect her grandfather to think,” said Simeon, with sarcasm. “Little wonder that we are smitten with the Sword of God when Rabbis shelter Christians because they chance to be of their house, and when warriors bear false witness concerning them because they chance to be fair. For my part I say that she is guilty, and has hidden the man away in some secret place. Otherwise why did she dash the light from the soldier’s hand?” “Mayhap to hide herself lest she should be attacked,” answered another, “though how she came in the tower, I cannot guess.” “I lived there,” said Miriam. “It was bricked up until yesterday and safe from robbers.” “So!” commented that judge, “you lived alone in a deserted tower like a bat or an owl, and without food or water. Then these must have been brought to you from without the walls, perhaps by some secret passage that was known to none, down which you loosed the Prefect, but had no time to follow him. Woman, you are a Roman spy, as a Christian well might be. I say that she is worthy of death.” Then Benoni rose and rent his robes.