And so for two years Shemaiah and Joel had inhabited the cellar in Eglah’s house. Glaucus, the husband, was just the kindly, generous man whom his wife had described. Once or twice he had terrified her by some joking remark about the rapidity with which the provision purchased for the house disappeared. “When we dine together, my darling,” he said, on one occasion, “you eat what would be scarce enough for a well-favoured fly; but I am glad to think that you are hungry at other times.” “O husband,” she said, “there are many poor of my own people, and I cannot deny them.” She hoped as she said it that the falsehood would not be counted as another sin against her. “Nay, nay, darling,” said the good-natured man. “Give as much as thou wilt. Thank the gods and his Highness the King I have enough and to spare.” Glaucus, though allowed to live in his own house, had, of course, to spend much time upon his military duties, and was, consequently, often away. During his absence Eglah could bring out the two prisoners from their underground lodging, and allow them to enjoy the fresh air of the garden, which, happily, was not overlooked. She gave them the best food that her means would procure, and at the same time took pains, as has been said, to keep their garments scrupulously clean and neat. On the whole they passed the time of their captivity in tolerable comfort, and without much injury to their health. Latterly they had been cheered by the tidings, always given to them at the very earliest opportunity by their hostess, of the successes of Judas. Within the last few days Glaucus had told his wife that a decisive battle was expected, that it would probably be fought at Beth-zur, and that if her countrymen won it, there was nothing that could hinder them from taking possession of Jerusalem.