When he spoke the polish of the Ephesian andronitis in his voice and manner destroyed the primitive illusion.
"Lady, I heard in the synagogue at Emmaus to-day the exclusion that is laid upon you for seven days. This is a hungry country and no man should waste food. I shall enter Jerusalem to-morrow by daybreak; we, my companion and I, have no further use for these. They are Milesian ducks, fattened on nuts. And this is Falernian–Roman. I pray you, allow me to leave them with your servant with my obeisances."
Without waiting for her reply the Maccabee passed fowls and skin into the hands of Momus who stood near.
"Sir," she answered unreadily, with her small hands gripping each other before her and her eyes veiled, "I thank you. It was not the least of my anxieties how we should provide ourselves with food under prohibition and in a country perilous with war. You have made to-morrow easy for us. I thank you."
"To-morrow; yes," he argued, seizing upon a discussion for an excuse to remain, "but the next day, and the next five days, what shall you do?"
"Perchance," she said gravely, "God will send us another stranger of a generous heart, with more than he needs for himself."
Not likely, indeed, he thought, would such beauty as hers go hungry as long as there were hearts in the wilderness as impressionable as his. But the thought of another than himself providing for her did not make him happy.
There was nothing more to be said, but he did not go. In his face gathered signs of his interest in her identity.
"Is there more that I can do for you?" he asked. "Have you friends in Jerusalem? I will bear your messages gladly."
But it was a grateful privilege which she had to refuse with reluctance. If her husband awaited her in Jerusalem, he must wait, rather than be informed of the cause of her delay at peril of exposing his presence in the city. She shook her head.