“I have been brought up in the desert far from cities,” pleaded Caleb. “Is there no law by which I may have justice of this man? Cannot you help me who are great among our people?” “None,” answered Benoni. “Roman citizens have rights, Jews what they can get. You can appeal to Cæsar if you wish, as the jackal appealed to the lion. But if you are wise you will be content with half the carcase. Also I am not great; I am but an old merchant without authority.” Caleb looked downfallen. “It seems that the days are hard for us Jews,” he said. “Well, I will be content and strive to forgive my enemies.” “Better be content and strive to smite your enemies,” answered Benoni. “You who were poor are rich; for this much thank God.” “Night and morning I do thank Him,” replied Caleb earnestly and with truth. Then there was silence for a while. “Is it your intention to reside in Hezron’s—I mean in your house—in Tyre?” asked Benoni, breaking it. “For a time, perhaps, until I find a tenant. I am not accustomed to towns, and at present they seem to stifle me.” “Where were you brought up, sir?” “Among the Essenes by Jericho. But I am not an Essene—their creed disgusted me; I belong to that of my fathers.” “There are worse men,” replied Benoni. “A brother of my late wife is an Essene, a kindly natured fool named Ithiel; you may have known him.” “Oh, yes, I know him. He is one of their curators and the guardian of the lady Miriam, his great-niece.” The old man started violently, then, recovering himself, said: “Forgive me, but Miriam was the name of my lost wife—one which it disturbs me to hear. But how can this girl be Ithiel’s grand-niece? He had no relations except his sister.” “I do not know,” answered Caleb carelessly. “The story is that the lady Miriam, whom they call the Queen of the Essenes, was brought to them nineteen or twenty years ago by a Libyan woman named Nehushta,”—here again Benoni started—“who said that the child’s mother, Ithiel’s niece, had been shipwrecked and died after giving birth to the infant, commanding that it should be brought to him to be reared. The Essenes consenting, he accepted the charge, and there she is still.” “Then is this lady Miriam an Essene?” asked Benoni in a thick, slow voice. “No; she is of the sect of the Christians, in which faith she has been brought up as her mother desired.” The old man rose from his couch and walked up and down the portico. “Tell me of the lady Miriam, sir,” he said presently, “for the tale interests me. What is she like?” “She is, as I believe, the most beautiful maiden in the whole world, though small and slight; also she is the most sweet and learned.” “That is high praise, sir,” said Benoni. “Yes, master, and perhaps I exaggerate her charms, as is but natural.” “Why is it natural?” “Because we were brought up together, and I hope that one day she will be my wife.” “Are you then affianced to this maid?”