“Aye, I thank God,” touching her breast with her fingers as she spoke the words.
Presently the matron seemed to notice her, and, looking at her with a doubtful eye, asked:
“How comes it, husband, that you are in charge of this captive Jewess, if Jewess she be who is so fair?”
“By the orders of Titus Cæsar, wife,” he answered, “to whom she must be delivered on his arrival. She was condemned to perish on the gate Nicanor as a traitress to the Jews and a Nazarene.”
Julia started and looked at the girl over her shoulder.
“Are you of that faith, daughter?” she asked in a changed voice, crossing her hands upon her breast as though by chance.
“I am, mother,” answered Miriam, repeating the sign.
“Well, well, husband,” said Julia, “the maid’s tale can wait. Whether she was a traitress to the Jews, or a follower of Christus, is not our affair. At least she is in your charge, and therefore welcome to me,” and stepping to where Miriam stood with bowed head she kissed her on the forehead, saying aloud:
“I greet you, daughter, who are so sweet to see and in misfortune,” adding beneath her breath, “in the Name you know.”
Then Miriam was sure that she had fallen into the hands of a woman who was a Christian, and was thankful in her heart, for while the Cæsars sat upon the Roman throne the Christians of every clime, rank and race were one great family.