from him and looked at him with horror-stricken eyes.

"Hast thou not yet seen him, who buys thy bread and meat and insures
this safe roof?" he persisted.

"And--and I eat bread--bought--bought by--" she stammered.

"Even so!"

Her hands dropped at her sides.

"Are the good all dead?" she said.

"In Jerusalem, yes; for Virtue gets hungry, at times."

She had risen and moved away from him, but he followed her with
interested eyes.

"Then--then--" she began, hesitating under a rush of convictions.
"That is why--why I can not--why he--he--"

He knew she spoke of Philadelphus.

"Go on," he said.

"Why I can not live in safety near him!"

He, too, arose. Until that moment it had not occurred to him that
Julian of Ephesus, as repugnant to her as she had shown him ever to
be, might prove a peril to her life as he had been to the Maccabee who
had stood in his way.

"What has he said to you?" he demanded fiercely. "How do you live,
here in this house?"

She threw up her head, seeing another meaning in his question.

"Shut in! Locked!" she said between her teeth.

"But even then you are not safe!"

She drew back hastily and looked at him with alarm. What did he mean?

He was beside her.

"Tell me, in truth, who you are," he said tenderly, "and I shall
reveal myself."

Then, indeed, Amaryllis had told him her claim and had convinced him
that it was fraudulent.

"And she told you?" she said wearily.

"Tell me," he insisted. "I have truly a revelation worth hearing!"

She made no answer.

"You owe it me," he added presently. "Behold what damaging things I
have intrusted to you. You can ruin me by the droop of an eyelash."

"I should have told you at first who I am," she said finally. "I will
not betray what you told me in ignorance--"

"But Amaryllis told me this before you came."

"Nevertheless, tell me no more; if I must be a partizan, I shall be a
partizan to my husband."

"There is nothing for you here, clinging to this man," he continued
persuasively. "This woman brought him a great dowry. She is ambitious
and therefore jealous. You will win nothing but mistreatment, and
worse, if you stay here for him."

"It is my place," she said.

After a moment's helpless silence, he demanded bitterly:

"Dost thou love that man?"

The truth leaped to her lips with such wilful force that he read the
reply on her face, though her eyes were down and by intense resolution
she restrained the denial. He