Part 28 (1/2)

If it were Miriam I should see her, or be able to touch her. It is but a dream of Miriam. Let me dream on,” and he turned his head.

Miriam thought for a moment. Time was short and it was necessary to make him understand. Well, it was not difficult. Slowly she bent a little lower and pressed her lips upon his.

”Marcus,” she went on, ”I kiss you now to show you that I am no dream and how needful it is that you should be awakened. Had I light I could prove to you that I am Miriam by your ring which is upon my fingers and your pearls which are about my neck.”

”Cease,” he answered, ”most beloved, I was weak and wandering, now I know that this is not a dream, and I thank Caleb who has brought us together again, against his wish, I think. Say, what must I do?”

”Can you stand?” asked Miriam.

”Perhaps. I am not sure. I will try.”

”Nay, wait. Nehushta, come hither; you are stronger than I. Now, while I unlatch the secret door, do you lift him up. Be swift, I hear the guard stirring without.”

Nehushta glided forward and knelt by the wounded man, placing her arms beneath him.

”Ready,” she said. ”Here is the iron.”

Miriam took it, and stepping to the wall, felt with her fingers for the crack, which in that darkness it took time to find. At length she had it, and inserting the thin hooked iron, lifted the hidden latch and pulled. The stone door was very heavy and she needed all her strength to move it. At last it began to swing.

”Now,” she said to Nehushta, who straightened herself and dragged the wounded Marcus to his feet.

”Quick, quick!” said Miriam, ”the guards enter.”

Supported by Nehushta, Marcus took three tottering steps and reached the open door. Here, on its very threshold indeed, his strength failed him, for he was wounded in the knee as well as in the head. Groaning, ”I cannot,” he fell to the ground, dragging the old Libyan with him, his breastplate clattering loud against the stone threshold. The sentry without heard the sound and called to a companion to give him the lantern. In an instant Nehushta was up again, and seizing Marcus by his right arm, began to drag him through the opening, while Miriam, setting her back against the swinging stone to keep it from closing, pushed against his feet.

The lantern appeared round the angle of the broken masonry.

”For your life's sake!” said Miriam, and Nehushta dragged her hardest at the heavy, helpless body of the fallen man. He moved slowly. It was too late; if that light fell on him all was lost. In an instant Miriam took her resolve. With an effort she swung the door wide, then as Nehushta dragged again she sprang forward, keeping in the shadow of the wall. The Jew who held the lantern, alarmed by the sounds within, entered hastily and, catching his foot against the body of a dead man who lay there, stumbled so that he fell upon his knee. In her hand Miriam held the key, and as the guard regained his feet, but not before its light fell upon her, she struck with it at the lamp, breaking and extinguis.h.i.+ng it.

Then she turned to fly, for, as she knew well, the stone would now be swinging on its pivot.

Alas! her chance had gone, for the man, stretching out his arm, caught her about the middle and held her fast, shouting loudly for help. Miriam struggled, she battered him with the iron and dragged at him with her left hand, but in vain, for in that grip she was helpless as a child who fights against its nurse. While she fought thus she heard the dull thud of the closing stone, and even in her despair rejoiced, knowing that until Marcus was beyond its threshold it could not be shut. Ceasing from her useless struggle she gathered the forces of her mind. Marcus was safe; the door was shut and could not be opened from the further side until another iron was procured; the guard had seen nothing. But her escape was impossible. Her part was played, only one thing remained for her to do--keep silence and his secret.

Men bearing lights were rus.h.i.+ng into the tower. Her right hand, which held the iron, was free, and lest it should tell a tale she cast the instrument from her towards that side of the deserted place which she knew was buried deep in fallen stones, fragments of rotted timber and dirt from the nests of birds. Then she stood still. Now they were upon her, Caleb at the head of them.

”What is it?” he cried.

”I know not,” answered the guard. ”I heard a sound as of clanking armour and ran in, when some one struck the lantern from my hand, a strong rascal with whom I have struggled sorely, notwithstanding the blows that he rained upon me with his sword. See, I hold him fast.”

They held up their lights and saw a beautiful, dishevelled maid, small and frail of stature, whereon they laughed out loud.

”A strong thief, truly,” said one. ”Why, it is a girl! Do you summon the watch every time a girl catches hold of you?”

Before the words died upon the speaker's lips, another man called out, ”The Roman! The Prefect has gone! Where is the prisoner?” and with a roar of wrath they began to search the place, as a cat searches for the mouse that escapes her. Only Caleb stood still and stared at the girl.

”Miriam!” he said.

”Yes, Caleb,” she answered quietly. ”This is a strange meeting, is it not? Why do you break in thus upon my hiding-place?”

”Woman,” he shouted, mad with anger, ”where have you hidden the Prefect Marcus?”

”Marcus?” she answered; ”is he here? I did not know it. Well, I saw a man run from the tower, perhaps that was he. Be swift and you may catch him.”