She paused and looked at him with appeal on her face.
"Thou hast told no one?"
"Nay," was the quick and earnest answer.
"Thou hast caught me in a falsehood," he said. The statement was almost brutal in its directness.
But the question that came back swiftly was not less pointed.
"There was no frieze of bondmaidens—naught of anything thou hast told me?"
"Nay, not anything. I am carving a statue against the canons of the sculptor's ritual for the sake of my love of beauty. Until thou didst come upon it, I alone possessed the secret. Thou knowest the punishment which will overtake me?"
"Aye, I know right well. Yet fear not. The statue is right cunningly concealed and none will ever find it, for the children were unsuccessful and the meals for the overseer will be brought him from the city hereafter. And I will not betray thee—I give thee my word."
Her tone was soft and earnest; her assurances were spoken so confidently, her interest was so genuine, that a queer and unaccountable satisfaction possessed the young artist at once.
At this moment the runaway water-bearers came in sight and in obedience to very evident dismissal in the Israelite's eyes, Kenkenes bade her farewell and left her.