“My lord,” said the man, “my name is Benjamin, and—for I will hide nothing from you—I am a robber. Once I was a soldier in your army, but I broke the law, and I fled lest I should be put to death. Now I am come, of my own accord, to make such amends for my transgression as I may. Slay me, if you will, as I stand here. There is no need of a trial. I have been tried and condemned, and I acknowledge that I deserve to die. But if you will be merciful, let me fight in the morning by your side; and on the morrow, if I yet live, let me suffer the due punishment. Life I ask not, but only that I may strike a blow for you before I die.” “Unbind him,” said Judas to the soldiers. The command was obeyed. “You are free to go or stay. But I would gladly have you at my side to-morrow, for I have forgotten all but that you are a brave man.” Benjamin stepped forward, and raising the hem of the captain’s robe to his lips, kissed it. He then knelt, and putting his head to the ground made as though he would have placed Judas’s foot upon his neck. “Nay,” said the captain, “we want not slaves, but brothers.” And he raised him from the ground. “And now,” he went on, “sit down and tell us what you know, for I make sure that you have not come empty of news.” Benjamin did indeed know all that could be known about the enemy, and, indeed, about the situation of affairs. To a question from Seraiah he replied that a surprise was impossible. The camp was too well guarded and watched. “Do they know our real numbers?” asked Judas. “Yes,” was the answer, “the deserters have told them.” And he proceeded to give a number of names of those who had gone over to the enemy, with a readiness and a precision that showed how diligent had been his watch. When he had told all his story, and understood that there was nothing more for him to do before the morrow, he wrapped himself in his cloak, and with characteristic indifference to the future, fell immediately into a profound and dreamless sleep. As soon as the first rays of light were seen Judas mustered his soldiers and hastily numbered them. There were about eight hundred in all, while the army of Bacchides, according to the calculations of Benjamin, which seemed to have been carefully made, could not be less than twenty thousand. Judas was not dismayed by this disparity of numbers, but was still true to his old strategy of attack. “Let us go up against our enemies,” was the exhortation that he addressed to the remnant that was still faithful to him. At first they shrank back. The odds were too vast; the attempt too desperate. An old soldier who had proved his valour on more than one battle-field was put forward as their spokesman. “This, sir,” he said, “will be to tempt God. Let us now save our lives. Hereafter we will return again, and fight with them. But now we are too few.”