Most of the public, however, were gathered about Miriam, who sat upon a chair by herself, her hands folded, her head bent down, a very picture of pitiful, outraged modesty. One by one as their turns came and the attendant suffered them to approach, the men advanced and examined her closely, though Nehushta noted that none of them were allowed to touch her with their hands. Placing herself at the end of the line she watched with all her eyes and listened with all her ears. Soon she had her reward. A tall man, dressed like a merchant of Egypt, went up to Miriam and bent over her. “Silence!” said the attendant. “I am ordered to suffer none to speak to the slave who is called Pearl-Maiden. Move on, sir, move on.” The man lifted his head, and although in that gloom she could not see his face, Nehushta knew its shape. Still she was not sure, till presently he moved his right hand so that it came between her and the flame of one of the torches, and she perceived that the top joint of the first finger was missing. “Caleb,” she thought to herself, “Caleb, escaped and in Rome! So Domitian has another rival.” Then she went back to the door-keeper and asked him the name of the man. “A merchant of Alexandria named Demetrius,” he said. Nehushta returned to her place. In front of her two men, agents who bought slaves and other things for wealthy clients, were talking. “More fit for a sale of dogs,” said one, “after sunset when everybody is tired out, than for that of one of the fairest women who ever stood upon the block.” “Pshaw,” answered the other, “the whole thing is a farce. Domitian is in a hurry, that’s all, so the auction must be held to-night.” “He means to buy her?” “Of course. I am told that his factor, Saturius, has orders to go up to a thousand sestertia if need be,” and he nodded towards a quiet man dressed in a robe of some rich, dark stuff, who stood in a corner of the place watching the company. “A thousand sestertia! For one slave girl! Ye gods! a thousand sestertia!” “The necklace goes with her, that is worth something, and there is property at Tyre.” “Property in Tyre,” said the other, “property in the moon. Come on, let us look at something a little less expensive. As I wish to keep my head on my shoulders, I am not going to bid against the prince in any case.” “No, nor anyone else either. I expect he will get his fancy pretty cheap after all.” Then the two men moved away, and a minute afterwards Nehushta found that it was her turn to approach Miriam. “Here comes a curious sort of buyer,” said one of the attendants. “Don’t judge the taste of the fruit by the look of the rind, young man,” answered Nehushta, and at the sound of that voice for the first time Pearl-Maiden lifted her head, then dropped it quickly.