Three minutes later, under the guidance of the clerk, who was as discreet as his master, they had passed, quite undisturbed, through various dark colonnades and up a flight of marble stairs. “Now you are out of the Forum, so go your ways,” he said. They went, and the clerk stood watching them until they were round a corner, for he was young and curious, and to him this seemed the strangest comedy of the slave-market of which he had ever even heard. As he turned to go he found himself face to face with a tall man, in whom he recognized that merchant of Egypt who had bid for Pearl-Maiden up to the enormous total of fourteen hundred sestertia. “Friend,” said Demetrius, “which way did your companions go?” “I don’t know,” answered the clerk. “Come, try to remember. Did they walk straight on, or turn to the left, or turn to the right? Fix your attention on these, it may help you,” and once more that fortunate clerk found five gold pieces thrust into his hand. “I don’t know that they help me,” he said, for he wished to be faithful to his hire. “Fool,” said Demetrius in a changed voice, “remember quickly, or here is something that will——” and he showed him a dagger glinting in his hand. “Now then, do you wish to go the same road as they carried the Jewish girl and the Eastern?” “They turned to the right,” said the clerk sulkily. “It is the truth, but may that road you speak of be yours who draw knives on honest folk.” With a bound Demetrius left his side, and for the second time the clerk stood still, watching him go. “A strange business,” he said to himself, “but, perhaps my master was right and that old woman is a sorceress, or, perhaps, the young one is the sorceress, since all men seem ready to pay a tribe’s tribute to get hold of her; or, perhaps, they are both sorceresses. A strange story, of which I should like to know the meaning, and so, I fancy, would the Prince Domitian when he comes to hear of it. Saturius, the chamberlain, has a fat place, but I would not take it to-night, no, not if it were given to me.” Then that young man returned to the mart in time to hear his master knock down Lot thirteen, a very sweet-looking girl, to Saturius himself, who proposed, though with a doubtful heart, to take her to Domitian as a substitute. Meanwhile, Nehushta, Miriam and the steward Stephanus, disguised as a slave, went on as swiftly as they dared towards the palace of Marcus in the Via Agrippa. The two women held each other by the hand but said nothing; their hearts seemed too full for speech. Only the old steward kept muttering—“Two thousand sestertia! The savings of years! Two thousand sestertia for that bit of a girl! Surely the gods have smitten him mad.” “Hold your peace, fool,” said Nehushta at length. “At least, I am not mad; the property that went with her is worth more than the money.”