“Do you mean—do you mean—?” he began and paused, looking round him fearfully.
“Yes,” replied the bishop in a whisper, “I mean Miriam. Fear not, she and her companions are in my charge, and for the present, safe. Seek to know no more, lest perchance their secret should be wrung from you. I and her brethren in the Lord will protect her to the last.”
Marcus began to pour out his thanks.
“Thank me not,” interrupted Cyril, “for what is at once my duty and my joy.”
“Friend Cyril,” said Marcus, “the maid is in great danger. I have just learned that Domitian’s spies hunt through Rome to find her, who, when she is found, will be spirited to his palace and a fate that you can guess. She must escape from Rome. Let her fly to Tyre, where she has friends and property. There, if she lies hid a while, she will be molested by none.”
The bishop shook his head.
“I have thought of it,” he said, “but it is scarcely possible. The officers at every port have orders to search all ships that sail with passengers, and detain any woman on them who answers to the description of her who was called Pearl-Maiden. This I know for certain, for I also have my officers, more faithful perhaps than those of Cæsar,” and he smiled.
“Is there then no means to get her out of Rome and across the sea?”
“I can think of only one, which would cost more money than we poor Christians can command. It is that a ship be bought in the name of some merchant and manned with sailors who can be trusted, such as I know how to find. Then she could be taken aboard at night, for on such a vessel there would be no right of search nor any to betray.”
“Find the ship and trusty men and I will find the money,” said Marcus, “for I still have gold at hand and the means of raising more.”