“She is well enough,” Nehushta said aloud, “but there used to be prettier women when I was young; in fact, though dark, I was myself,” a statement at which those within hearing, noting her gaunt and aged form bent beneath the heavy basket, tittered aloud. “Come, lift up your head, my dear,” she went on, trying to entice the captive to consent by encouraging waves of her hand. They were fruitless; still, had any thought of it there was meaning in them. On Nehushta’s finger, as it chanced, shone a ring which Miriam ought to know, seeing that for some years she had worn it on her own. It would seem that she did know it, at any rate her bosom and neck grew red and a spasm passed across her face which even the falling hair did not suffice to hide. The ring told Miriam that Marcus lived and that Nehushta was his messenger. This suspense at least was ended. Now the door-keeper called a warning and the buyers flocked from the building. Outside, the auctioneer, a smooth-faced, glib-tongued man, was already mounting the rostrum. Calling for silence he began his speech. On this evening of festival, he said, he would be brief. The lots he had to offer to the select body of connoisseurs he saw before him, were the property of the Imperator Titus, and the proceeds of the sale, it was his duty to tell them, would not go into Cæsar’s pocket, but were to be equally divided between the poor of Rome and deserving soldiers who had been wounded or had lost their health in the war, a fact which must cause every patriotic citizen to bid more briskly. These lots, he might say, were unique, being nothing else than the fifteen most beautiful girls, believed all of them to be of noble blood, among the many thousands who had been captured at the sack of Jerusalem, the city of the Jews, especially selected to adorn the great conqueror’s Triumph. No true judge, who desired a charming memento of the victory of his country’s arms, would wish to neglect such an opportunity, especially as he was informed that the Jewish women were affectionate, docile, well instructed in many arts, and very hard-working. He had only one more thing to say, or rather two things. He regretted that this important sale should be held at so unusual an hour. The reason was that there was really no place where these slaves could be comfortably kept without risk of their maltreatment or escape, so it was held to be best that they should be removed at once to the seclusion of their new homes, a decision, he was sure, that would meet the wishes of buyers. The second point was that among them was one lot of surpassing interest; namely, the girl who had come to be generally spoken of as Pearl-Maiden.