needed; so my amiable
companion reduced the number by stabbing me in the back," he
explained.

There was instant silence. Slowly she drew away from him. Entire
pallor covered her face and in her eyes grew a horror.

"Did--do you say that Philadelphus stabbed--you--in the back?" she
asked, speaking slowly.

"Phila--" he stopped on the brink of a puzzled inquiry, and for a
space they regarded each other, each turning over his own perplexity
for himself.

"Ask me that again," he commanded her suddenly. "I did not
understand."

She hesitated and closed her lips. Her husband had stabbed this man in
the back! Because of her? No! Philadelphus had refused to believe her.
Why then should he have committed such a deed?

"So you are not ready to believe it of this--Philadelphus?" he asked,
venturing his question on an immense surmise that was forcing itself
upon him.

She looked at him with beseeching eyes. How was she to regard herself
in this matter? A partizan of the man she hated, or a sympathizer with
this stranger who had already given her too much joy? Was she never to
know any good of this man to whom she was wedded? For a moment losing
sight of her concern for Judea and her resolution that her father
should not have died in vain, she was rejoiced that another woman had
taken her place by his side. The quasi liberty made her interest in
this stranger at least not entirely sinful.

"Who are you?" he demanded finally.

How, then, could she tell him that she was the wife of the man who had
treacherously attempted his life? How, also, since she was denied by
every one in that house, expect him to believe her? The bitterness of
her recent interview with Amaryllis rose to the surface again.

"I am nothing; I have no name; I am nobody!" she cried.

He was startled.

"What is this? Are you not welcome in this house?" he demanded.

"Yes--and no! Amaryllis is good--but--"

"But what?"

She shook her head.

"Surely, thou canst speak without fear to me," he said gently.

"There is--only Amaryllis is kind," she essayed finally.

He laid his hand on her wrist.

"Is it--the woman from Ascalon?" he asked, his suspicion lighting
instantly upon the wife whom he had expected to meet.

She flung up her head and gazed at him with startled eyes. He believed
that he had touched upon the fact.

"So!" he exclaimed.

"She has deceived Philadelphus--" she whispered defensively, but he
broke in sharply.

"Whom hath s