"But, Deborah, I could not endure such an honor and such responsibility—alone. Will you share the venture with me? Will the Daughter of Jerusalem be its Queen?"
Deborah started as if he had struck her. The flush on her face became deathly pallor. She trembled as the most timid girl might have done before her captor in war.
"Forgive me, Deborah. I was too rude in testing your loyalty."
The blood came back to her cheeks. "Loyalty! Say not that word. Let Maccabæus as King command me, and I will die at his feet. But——"
She sat upon the couch and burst into tears.
"Forgive me! Forgive me!" he cried. "What have I said? I was blind and stupid. Loyalty? Loyalty I know is not love."
After a moment's silence she said: "Judas, we are both speaking we know not what. I, too, am but a child, and know not the way of my own thoughts. Do not take offence, my dear friend; but I would be alone. Pray for me. And I will pray for you, as I have always prayed—one prayer for us both. God will give us light."
"Your will shall be mine," he responded, but his manner betokened a struggle for submission such as no one had ever before seen in this strongest of men. He stood with bowed head. "We are but two children lost in the woods. God forbid that we must now find our way by different paths."
He went away.
Deborah remained for a long time in the spot where Judas left her.