After watching him a moment, Mary's hand sought the border of his cloak. Her fingers felt the loose thread in the wide hem. Lifting the anklet, she slipped it inside the hem and pushed it around to one side of the garment.
"On the morrow when he mends the rent he will find that I neither took it nor must his arm suffer palsy for withholding it from me," and she smiled. Then she arose. "Zador Ben Amon," she said, "I go to the home of Anna whose father doth not return from Jerusalem to-night. Farewell."
With a start he turned his face to her. A few quick steps brought him to her side and he would have thrown his arms about her but she gathered her veil tightly and said, "Touch me not!"
"Touch thee not? Am I a god of wood?" and before she had stepped aside his fingers touched her.
"My brother sitteth just behind the lattice. Wilt thou that I call him?" Zador Ben Amon stopped. Mary cast one swift glance at him. "Devourer of songs unsung," she said slowly, turning her back on him.
He watched her cross the court and pass through the gate into the yard of Simon the Leper. When she was beyond sight he stepped hurriedly back to the bench. He glanced cautiously toward the house. He ran his hand over the stone where he had placed the anklet. He shook his cloak. He dropped on his hands and knees and searched the grass carefully. "The woman hath taken it and I have me no recourse," he muttered angrily. "A curse upon her! But this is not the end of it!"
CHAPTER VIII
STRANGE TALES ARE ABOUT
The palace occupied by Pilate, Roman Procurator of Judea, during his visitations to the once Jewish capital, was one of the gorgeous and perpetual monuments to the architectural skill of Herod the Great and his almost inconceivable expenditure of gold. Had Pilate built it for himself it could not have been more to his liking, containing as it did apartments in size from the closet of a slave maiden to halls of state large enough to banquet whole companies. The favorite state apartment of Pilate was always first set in order. A palace within a palace was it, pillared into twelve compartments which yet made one whole. The frieze of the twelve compartments was surmounted with the twelve signs of the Zodiac and paintings of meat eaters. The side walls were decorated with fauns and naked bacchantes carrying vases of flowers. The gleaming pillars that reached to a ceiling of great height were entwined with carved ivy and vine branches. There were couches, one of bronze ornamented with tortoise shell and gold, the cushions of which were Gallic wool dyed purple; another near it was of ivory and gold and across it was thrown a wolf skin robe. Corinthian vases nobly wrought of fine brass were filled with palms tied with gay ribbons, such as were waved in the Roman circus. Back of the couch covered with wolf skin was a pedestal wreathed with fresh flowers, and the fragrance of incense from cunningly wrought metal lamps perfumed the air.
With the coming of Pilate came a retinue of servants and soldiers, and always guards stood at all entrances inside and out of the palace. In the palace of Pilate all was in readiness for the Passover guests certain to be on hand, for Rome sent many visitors annually to Jerusalem. Claudia, wife of the Procurator, herself enjoyed the impressive crowds that gorged the great city and was out sight-seeing daily. On the third day before the great Feast, she returned to the palace before the time of Pilate's arrival, and pushing aside one of the magnificent hangings that lent a touch of barbaric color to the gorgeous apartment, she entered and looked about.