“I thought as much, and now I am sure. But, my lord Marcus, if my blood is hers my wealth is my own.”
“Just so. Keep it if you will, or leave it where you will. It is Miriam I seek, and not your money.”
“I think that Caleb seeks both Miriam and my money—like a prudent man. Why should he not have them? He is a Jew of good blood; he will, I think, rise high.”
“And I am a Roman of better blood who will rise higher.”
“Yes, a Roman, and I, the grandfather, am a Jew who do not love you Romans.”
“And Miriam is neither Jew nor Roman, but a Christian, brought up not by you, but by the Essenes; and she loves me, although she will not marry me because I am not a Christian.”
Benoni shrugged his shoulders as he answered:
“All of this is a problem which I must ponder on and solve.”
Marcus sprang from his seat and stood before the old man with menace in his air.
“Look you, Benoni,” he said, “this is a problem not to be solved by you or by Caleb, but by Miriam herself, and none other. Do you understand?”