So they caught Miriam, bound her and began running round and round the wall. “Here is a staircase,” called a man, “doubtless he has gone up it. Come, friends.”
Then taking lights with them, they mounted the stairs to the very top, but found no one. Even as they came down again a trumpet blew and from without rose the sound of a mighty shouting.
“What happens now?” said one.
As he spoke an officer appeared in the opening of the tower.
“Begone,” he cried. “Back to the Temple, taking your prisoner with you. Titus himself is upon us at the head of two fresh legions, mad at the loss of his Prefect and so many of his soldiers. Why! where is the wounded Roman, Marcus?”
“He has vanished,” answered Caleb sullenly. “Vanished”—here he glanced at Miriam with jealous and vindictive hate—“and in his place has left to us this woman, the grand-daughter of Benoni, Miriam, who strangely enough was once his love.”
“Is it so?” said the officer. “Girl, tell us what you have done with the Roman, or die. Come, we have no time to lose.”
“I have done nothing. I saw a man walk past the sentries, that is all.”
“She lies,” said the officer contemptuously. “Here, kill this traitress.”
A man advanced lifting his sword, and Miriam, thinking that all was over, hid her eyes while she waited for the blow. Before it fell, however, Caleb whispered something to the officer which caused him to change his mind.