"Dion, I did not die, but it is true that another spirit has entered mine."
"Better wert thou dead than live such a life as this," cried he. "Why did you fly without my help? I had arranged for your safety. I would have given my life for yours—but—but now——"
He grasped her hands, then threw them from him as something that defiled him. "There is no god of Jew or Greek, or this could not have been. Tell me, Deborah, that what I see is not true. That you—that you are not here."
He covered his face with his hands as if to banish the vision of the reality.
"Dion, what you see is true; but what you think is false—yes, false and mean as the gods you worship. An outcast I am, as all my people are; but not an outcast from honour; not from my father's faith; not from the favour of my father's God. Your soldiers have destroyed our homes; where can we live but in the fields? How can we subsist except as the beasts and birds do, by picking up the crumbs which the army of Antiochus drops along its path of slaughter?"
She laid her hands upon her gaudy garments as if to tear them from her.
A bugle sounded. It was quickly answered from far and near. A rustle as of a sudden storm among the rocks and bushes told that the host was waking. Then followed the hum of voices, cut with the sharp words of command, the click of arms, and clashing of utensils, the neighing of horses and outcries of grooms and masters.
Dion started a step as if to obey the call.
"Stay, Dion!" she cried, losing for the instant her self-possession as she realized the fate which hung above her friend.