"I will buy that lamp," said Caleb presently. "The design pleases me.What artist made it?"
The merchant shrugged his shoulders.
"Sir, I do not know," he answered. "These goods are supplied to us withmany others, such as joinery and carving, by one Septimus, who is acontractor and, they say, a head priest among the Christians, employingmany hands at his shops in the poor streets yonder. One or more of themmust be designers of taste, since of late we have received from him somelamps of great beauty."
Then the man was called away to attend to another customer and Calebpaid for his lamp.
That evening at dusk Caleb, bearing the lamp in his hand, found hisway to the workshop of Septimus, only to discover that the part of thefactory where lamps were moulded was already closed. A girl who had justshut the door, seeing him stand perplexed before it, asked civilly ifshe could help him.
"Maiden," he answered, "I am in trouble who wish to find her who mouldedthis lamp, so that I may order others, but am told that she has left herwork for the day."
"Yes," said the maiden, looking at the lamp, which evidently sherecognised. "It is pretty, is it not? Well, cannot you returnto-morrow?"
"Alas! no, I expect to be leaving Rome for a while, so I fear that Imust go elsewhere."
The girl reflected to herself that it would be a pity if the order werelost, and with it the commission which she might divide with the makerof the lamp. "It is against the rules, but I will show you where shelives," she said, "and if she is there, which is probable, for I havenever seen her or her companion go out at night, you can tell her yourwishes."
Caleb thanked the girl and followed her through sundry tortuous lanes toa court surrounded by old houses.
"If you go in there," she said, pointing to a certain doorway, "andclimb to the top of the stairs, I forget whether there are three or fourflights, you will find the makers of the lamp in the roof-rooms--oh!sir, I thank you, but I expected nothing. Good-night."
At length Caleb stood at the head of the stairs, which were both steep,narrow, and in the dark hard to climb. Before him, at the end of arickety landing, a small ill-fitting door stood ajar. There was lightwithin the room beyond, and from it came a sound of voices. Caleb creptup to the door and listened, for as the floor below was untenanted heknew that none could see him. Bending down he looked through the spacebetween the door and its framework and his heart stood still. There,standing full in the lamplight, clothed in a pure white robe, for herrough working dress lay upon a stool beside her, was Miriam herself,her elbow leaning on the curtained window-place. She was talking toNehushta, who, her back bent almost double over a little charcoal fire,was engaged in cooking their supper.
"Think," she was saying, "only think, Nou, our last night in thishateful city, and then, instead of that stifling workshop and the terrorof Domitian, the open sea and the fresh salt wind and nobody to fear butGod. _Luna!_ Is it not a beautiful name for a ship? I can see her, allsilver----"
"Peace," said Nehushta. "Are you mad, girl, to talk so loud? I though Iheard a sound upon the stairs just now."
"It is only the rats," answered Miriam cheerfully, "no one ever comes uphere. I tell you that were it not for Marcus I could weep with joy."
Caleb crept back to the head of the stairs and down several steps, whichhe began to re-ascend noisily, grumbling at their gloom and steepness.Then, before the women even had time to shut the door, he thrust it wideand walked straight into the room.
"Your pardon," he began, then added quietly, "Why, Miriam, when weparted on the gate Nicanor, who could have foretold that we should liveto meet again here in a Roman attic? And you, Nehushta. Why, we wereseparated in the fray outside the Temple walls, though, indeed, Ithink that I saw you in a strange place some months ago, namely, theslave-ring on the Forum."
"Caleb," asked Miriam in a hollow voice, "what is your business here?"
"Well, Miriam, it began with a desire for a replica of this lamp, whichreminds me of a spot familiar to my childhood. Do you remember it? Nowthat I have found who is the lamp's maker----"
"Cease fooling," broke in Nehushta. "Bird of ill-omen, you have come todrag your prey back to the shame and ruin which she has escaped."
"I was not always called thus," answered Caleb, flushing, "when Irescued you from the house at Tyre for instance, or when I risked mylife, Miriam, to throw you food upon the gate Nicanor. Nay, I come tosave you from Domitian----"
"And to take her for yourself," answered Nehushta. "Oh! we Christiansalso have eyes to see and ears to hear, and, black-hearted traitorthat you are, we know all your shame. We know of your bargain with thechamberlain of Domitian, by which the body of the slave was to be theprice of the life of her buyer. We know how you swore away the honour ofyour rival, Marcus, with false testimony, and how from week to week youhave quartered Rome as a vulture quarters the sky till at length youhave smelt out the quarry. Well, she is helpless, but One is strong, andmay His vengeance fall upon your life and soul."
Suddenly Nehushta's voice, that had risen to a scream, died away, andshe stood before him threatening him with her bony fists, and searchinghis face with her burning eyes, a vengeance incarnate.
"Peace, woman, peace," said Caleb, shrinking back before her. "Spareyour reproaches; if I have sinned much it is because I have lovedmore----"
"And hate most of all," added Nehushta.
"Oh! Caleb," broke in Miriam, "if as you say you love me, why should youdeal thus with me? You know well that I do not love you after this sort,no, and never can, and even if you keep me from Domitian, who does butmake a tool of you, what would it advantage you to take a woman wholeaves her heart elsewhere? Also I may never marry you for that samereason that I may not marry Marcus, because my faith is and must remainapart from yours. Would you make a base slave of your old playmate,Caleb? Would you bring her to the level of a dancing-girl? Oh! let me goin peace."
"Upon the ship _Luna_," said Caleb sullenly.
Miriam gasped! So he knew their plans.
"Yes," she replied desperately, "upon the ship _Luna_, to find such afate as Heaven may give me; at least to be at peace and free. For yoursoul's sake, Caleb, let me go. Once years ago you swore that you wouldnot force yourself upon me against my will. Will you break that oathto-day?"
"I swore also, Miriam, that it should go ill with any man who camebetween you and me. Shall I break that oath to-day? Give yourself tome of your own will and save Marcus. Refuse and I will bring him to hisdeath. Choose now between me and your lover's life."
"Are you a coward that you should lay such a choice upon me, Caleb?"
"Call me what you will. Choose."
Miriam clasped her hands and for a moment stood looking upwards. Then alight of purpose grew upon her face and she answered:
"Caleb, I have chosen. Do your worst. The fate of Marcus is not in myhands, or your hands, but in the hands of God; nor, unless He wills it,can one hair of his head be harmed by you or by Domitian. For is it notwritten in the book of your own Law that 'the King's heart is in thehand of the Lord, he turneth it whithersoever he will.' But my honour ismy own, and to stain it would be a sin for which I alone must answer toHeaven and to Marcus, dead or living--Marcus, who would curse and spitupon me did I attempt to buy his safety at such a price."
"Is that your last word, Miriam?"
"It is. If it pleases you by false witness and by murder to destroy theman who once spared you, then if such a thing be suffered, have yourwill and reap its fruits. I make no bargain with you, for myself or forhim--do your worst to both of us."
"So be it," said Caleb with a bitter laugh, "but I think that the ship_Luna_ will lack her fairest passenger."
Miriam sank down upon a seat and covered her face with her hands, apiteous sight in her misery and the terror which, notwithstanding herbold words, she could not conceal. Caleb walked to the door and pausedthere, while the white-haired Nehushta stood by the brazier of charcoaland watched them both with her fierce eyes. Presently Caleb glancedrou
nd at Miriam crouched by the window and a strange new look came intohis face.
"I cannot do it," he said slowly, each word falling heavily from hislips like single rain-drops from a cloud, or the slow blood from amortal wound.
Miriam let her hands slip from her face and stared at him.
"Miriam," he said, "you are right; I have sinned against you and thisman Marcus. Now I will expiate my sin. Your secret is safe with me, andsince you hate me I will never see you more. Miriam, we look uponeach other for the last time. Further, if I can, I will work for thedeliverance of Marcus and help him to join you in Tyre, whither the_Luna_ is bound--is she not? Farewell?"
Once again he turned to go, but it would seem that his eyes wereblinded, or his brain was dulled by the agony that worked within. Atleast Caleb caught his foot in the ancient uneven boards, stumbled, andfell heavily upon his face. Instantly, with a low hiss of hate and aspring like that of a cat, Nehushta was upon him. Thrusting her kneesupon his back she seized the nape of his neck with her left hand andwith her right drew a dagger from her bosom.
"Forbear!" said Miriam. "Touch him with that knife and we part forever.Nay, I mean it. I myself will hand you to the officer, even if he halesme to Domitian."
Then Nehushta rose to her feet.
"Fool!" she said, "fool, to trust to that man of double moods, whosemercy to-night will be vengeance to-morrow. Oh! you are undone! Alas!you are undone!"
Regaining his feet Caleb looked at her contemptuously.
"Had you stabbed she might have been undone indeed," he said. "Now, asof old, there is little wisdom in that gray head of yours, Nehushta; norcan your hate suffer you to understand the intermingled good and evilof my heart." Then he advanced to Miriam, lifted her hand and kissed it.With a sudden movement she proffered him her brow.
"Nay," he said, "tempt me not, it is not for me. Farewell."
Another instant and he was gone.