ittle wider than a man's
hand wandering along below them toward a well in the hollow of the
rocks. Along this way, in early morning, Joseph, the shepherd, was in
the habit of driving his sheep to drink. And hither the procurator and
his wife came to visit the boy from time to time. Within their hall,
there was too much state. Something in the wild open of Judea with its
winds gave them all an ease whenever they wished to talk with Joseph.

But the shepherd was not in sight. The pair sat down and waited for
him.

Laodice rested against her husband's arm, laid along the rock behind
her. Presently he freed that arm and with the ease of much usage
withdrew the bodkins from her hair. The heavy coil dropped over his
breast down to his knee. With delicate touches he began to free from
the splendid tangle a single strand of glistening white hair. When she
saw it shining like spun silver across the back of his hand, she
looked up at him. With infinite care he searched her face, while she
waited with questioning in her tender eyes.

"This," he said, lifting the hand that supported the silver threads,
"is the sole evidence that thou hast seen the abomination of
desolation."

"And that came the night I journeyed away from Jerusalem, without
you," she declared. "But, my Philadelphus," she said, turning herself
a little that she might hide her face away from him, "had I stayed
with you against my conscience, I had been by this time wholly white."

He kissed her.

"I did not expect you to stay," he said. "I knew from the beginning
that you would not. Ask Joseph. He will bear me out."

Low on the slope of the hill, the shepherd approached, calling his
sheep that trailed after him contentedly by the hundreds. The excited
bark of Urge, the sheep-dog, came up faintly to them.

While they leaned watching them, old Momus, bent and broken, stood
before them. Laodice hurriedly drew away from her husband's clasp. It
was a habit she had never entirely shaken off, whenever the mute
appeared, in spite of the old man's pathetic dumb protest.

He handed a linen scroll to his master.

It read:

The captives whom thou hast asked for freedom at Caesar's hand are
this day sent to thee, Philadelphus, under escort. They should
reach thee a little later than this messenger. However, it is
Caesar's pain to inform thee that the Greek Amaryllis as well as
the actress Salome were not to be found. Julian of Ephesus, who
named the wom