Then that young man returned to the mart in time to hear his master knock down Lot thirteen, a very sweet-looking girl, to Saturius himself, who proposed, though with a doubtful heart, to take her to Domitian as a substitute.
Meanwhile, Nehushta, Miriam and the steward Stephanus, disguised as a slave, went on as swiftly as they dared towards the palace of Marcus in the Via Agrippa. The two women held each other by the hand but said nothing; their hearts seemed too full for speech. Only the old steward kept muttering—“Two thousand sestertia! The savings of years! Two thousand sestertia for that bit of a girl! Surely the gods have smitten him mad.”
“Hold your peace, fool,” said Nehushta at length. “At least, I am not mad; the property that went with her is worth more than the money.”
“Yes, yes,” replied the aggrieved Stephanus, “but how will that benefit my master? You put it in her name. Well, it is no affair of mine, and at least this accursed basket is much lighter.”
Now they were at the side door of the house, which Stephanus was unlocking with his key.
“Quick,” said Nehushta, “I hear footsteps.”
The door opened and they passed in, but at that moment one went by them, pausing to look until the door closed again.
“Who was that?” asked Stephanus nervously.
“He whom they called Demetrius, the merchant of Alexandria, but whom once I knew by another name,” answered Nehushta in a slow voice while Stephanus barred the door.
They walked through the archway into an antechamber lit by a single lamp, leaving Stephanus still occupied with his bolts and chains. Here with a sudden motion Nehushta threw off her cloak and tore the veil from her brow. In another instant, uttering a low, crooning cry, she flung her long arms about Miriam and began to kiss her again and again on the face.