Then began that hideous scene whereof something has been said. Nehushta strove to reach the latch with her fingers. Marcus, standing upon one foot, strove to shake the stone with his shoulder, the black, silent stone that never so much as stirred. Yet they worked madly, their breath coming in great gasps, knowing that the work was in vain, and that even if they could open the door, by now it would be to find Miriam gone, or at the best to be taken themselves. Suddenly Marcus ceased from his labour. “Lost!” he moaned, “and for my sake. O ye gods! for my sake.” Then down he fell, his harness clattering on the rocky step, and lay there, muttering and laughing foolishly. Nehushta ceased also, gasping: “The Lord help you, Miriam, for I cannot. Oh! after all these years to lose you thus, and because of that man!” and she glared through the darkness towards the fallen Marcus, thinking in her heart that she would kill him. “Nay,” she said to herself, “she loved him, and did she know it might pain her. Better kill myself; yes, and if I were sure that she is dead this, sin or no sin, I would do.” As she sat thus, helpless, hopeless, she saw a light coming up the stair towards them. It was borne by Ithiel. Nehushta rose and faced him. “Praise be to God! there you are at length,” he said. “Thrice have I been up this stair wondering why Miriam did not come.” “Brother Ithiel,” answered Nehushta, “Miriam will come no more; she is gone, leaving us in exchange this man Marcus, the Roman prefect of Horse.” “What do you mean? What do you mean?” he gasped. “Where is Miriam?” “In the hands of the Jews,” she answered. Then she told him all that story. “There is nothing to be done,” he moaned when she had finished. “To open the door now would be but to reveal the secret of our hiding-place to the Jews or to the Romans, either of whom would put us to the sword, the Jews for food, the Romans because we are Jews. We can only leave her to God and protect ourselves.” “Had I my will,” answered Nehushta, “I would leave myself to God and still strive to protect her. Yet you are right, seeing that many lives cannot be risked for the sake of one girl. But what of this man?” “We will do our best for him,” answered Ithiel, “for so she who sacrificed herself for his sake would have wished. Also years ago he was our guest and befriended us. Stay here a while and I will bring men to carry him to the vault.” So Ithiel went away to return with sundry of the brethren, who lifted Marcus and bore him down the stairs and passages to that darksome chamber where Miriam had slept, while other brethren shut the trap-door, and loosened the roof of the passage, blocking it with stone so that without great labour none could pass that path for ever.