“When I cried, for I could not help crying it, ‘Would to God you were not my mother!’ she laughed and said, ‘You have your wish; I am not your mother. You were brought to me when you were a babe of about twelve months by my husband Hyrcanus, who found you one winter’s night crying among the crags of Mount Hermon, where you had been purposely left to perish, and where, but for him, you would have perished. That is all I know of your origin, save this, that since there hath never been aught of the Jewess in you, I doubt not that you come of Greekish parents--nay, it would not surprise me to learn that your mother was a Samaritan, and hence your perverse nature.’” A few years earlier the doubt that she was not of the chosen race would have troubled Vashti, but now baptized into a faith in which there is neither Greek nor Jew, neither barbarian nor Scythian, neither bond nor free, she viewed the question of her nationality as a matter of no moment. The two for a while talked of Miriam’s revelation; and then, quitting this theme, Crispus proceeded to tell Vashti of an event that he knew would interest her, an event the most momentous in his life--namely, how, during the time of his proscription, the Christians of Pella had given him harboring, and how he had become a catechumen, receiving instruction in the faith from the holy bishop Simeon, and from others who had seen the Lord. “And when,” concluded Crispus, “I learned that it was Simeon who had baptized you, I would not let any other perform that rite for me.” Night and day for nearly four years had Vashti prayed for the conversion of Crispus, and now came the sweet realization of her prayer! His words seemed to lift her from earth to heaven--but for a moment only; like a swift, painful dart came the memory of little Arad, and she wept. How happy would she now be but for that black deed! Knowing the cause of her sadness, Crispus tried to divert the course of her thoughts by talking of the way in which he hoped to remove her from the city; he made her eat again; and then, learning from her that she had been out all the previous night, he bade her sleep. So Vashti, compliant with his will, lay down upon a divan, and though sweet oblivion was a long time in coming, it came at last. Miriam remained invisible throughout the day, a fact for which Crispus felt extremely grateful, since it was not at all unlikely that, if he were seen by her, she might, in her hatred of Romans, raise an alarm, and bring the Zealots upon him. It was much past noon when Vashti awoke. She smiled on learning how long she had slept; but it was a wan, sad smile; Arad’s end was ever present to her memory.