“Yes, to protect himself if he is attacked, and his property—if he has any. But neither that faith nor mine permits him to avenge a blow.” “I was one against many,” he answered boldly. “My life was on the hazard: it was no coward’s act.” “Were there, then, a troop of these hyenas?” asked Miriam, innocently. “I thought you said it was a solitary beast that took the sheep.” “It was a whole company of beasts who took the wine, and smote those in charge of it as though they were street dogs.” “Hyenas that took wine like the tame ape whom the boys make drunken over yonder——” “Why do you mock me,” broke in Caleb, “who must know the truth? Or if you do not know it, here it is. That thief beat me with his staff, and called me the son of a dog, and I swore that I would pay him back. Pay him back I did, for the head of that shaft which Nehushta noted, stands out a span beyond his neck. They never saw who shot it; they never saw me at all, who thought at first that the man had fallen from his horse. By the time they knew the truth I was away where they could not follow. Now go and tell the story if you will, or let Nehushta, who hates me, tell it, and give me over to be tortured by the servants of the high priest, or crucified as a murderer by the Romans.” “Neither Nehushta nor I saw this deed done, nor shall we bear witness against you, Caleb, or judge you, who doubtless were provoked by violent and lawless men. Yet, Caleb, you told me that you came out to warn us, and it grieves me to learn that the true wish of your heart was to take the life of a man.” “It is false,” he answered angrily; “I said that I came to warn you, and afterwards to kill a hyena. To make you safe—that was my first thought, and until you were safe my enemy was safe also. Miriam, you know it well.” “Why should I know it? To you, Caleb, I think revenge is more than friendship.” “Perhaps; for I have few friends who am a penniless orphan brought up by charity. But, Miriam, to me revenge is not more than—love.” “Love,” she stammered, turning crimson to her hair and stepping back a pace; “what do you mean, Caleb?” “What I say, neither more nor less,” he answered sullenly. “As I have worked one crime to-day, I may as well work two, and dare to tell the lady Miriam, the Queen of the Essenes, that I love her, though she loves not me—as yet.” “This is madness,” faltered Miriam.