That evening, so soon as the darkness fell, they entered Rome by the Appian Gate. Here they separated, Gallus leading his soldiers to convoy the treasure to the safe keeping of that officer who was appointed to receive it, and afterwards to the camp prepared for them, while Julia, with Miriam and an escort of two men only, departed to her own home, a small dwelling in a clean but narrow and crowded street that overhung the Tiber between the Pons Ælius and the Porta Flamina. At the door of the house Julia dismissed the soldiers, saying: “Go without fear, and take witness that I am bond for the safety of this captive.” So the men went gladly enough, for they desired to rest after the toils of their long journey, and the door of the house having been opened by a servant and locked again behind them, Julia led Miriam across a little court to the sitting-room that lay beyond. Hanging lamps of bronze burned in the room, and by their light Miriam saw that it was very clean and well, though not richly, furnished. “This is my own house, daughter,” she explained, “which my father left me, where I have dwelt during all these weary years that my husband has been absent in the wars of the East. It is a humble place, but you will find peace and safety in it, and, I trust, comfort. Poor child,” she added in a gentle voice, “I who am also a Christian, though as yet of this my husband knows nothing, welcome you in the Name of the Lord.” “In the Name of our Lord, I thank you,” answered Miriam, “who am but a friendless slave.” “Such find friends,” said Julia, “and if you will suffer it I think that I shall be one of them.” Then at a sign from the elder woman they knelt down, and in silence each of them put up her prayer of thanksgiving, the wife because her husband had come back to her safe, the maiden because she had been led to a house ruled by a woman of her own faith. After this they ate, a plain meal but well cooked and served. When it was done Julia conducted Miriam to the little whitewashed chamber which had been prepared for her. It was lighted from the court by a lattice set high in the wall, and, like all the house, very clean and sweet, with a floor of white marble. “Once another maid slept here,” said Julia with a sigh, glancing at the white bed in the corner. “Yes,” said Miriam, “she was named Flavia, was she not, your only child? Nay, do not be astonished. I have heard so much of her that I seem to have known her well, who can be known no more—here.” “Did Gallus tell you?” asked Julia. “He used rarely to speak of her.” Miriam nodded. “Gallus told me. You see he was very good to me and we became friends. For all that he has done, may Heaven bless him, who, although he seems rough, has so kind a heart.” “Yes, may Heaven bless all of us, living and dead,” answered Julia. Then she kissed Miriam and left her to her rest.