it's all
right. We will help you."

"Who was your father?" said Celino in an equally kindly voice.

"He was not my father," the girl whispered. "He was Angelo Ben Ezra of
Florence, a seller of books, and he was my husband."

Sophia drew back in surprise, then hugged the girl tighter. "Oh, poor
little one. So young, and wed to such an old man. How could your parents
do that to you?"

The girl angrily drew back from Sophia. "Do not speak so! My parents
were good to me--and my husband was. He never touched me. When my mother
and father died of tertian fever, he took me in, and he married me so as
not to give scandal. He taught me to read."

"What is your name, girl?" Celino asked.

"Rachel." She dropped to her knees beside the body stretched out on the
marble, and her tears splashed on the white face. She bent over and
kissed him.

"He is so cold."

"We must wrap him quickly and be on our way," said Daoud. "We have
killed three people and burned down an inn. I assure you, they have
stopped chasing us only for the moment. Celino, I want a word with you.
Sophia, help the girl wrap her husband's body so we can travel on."

"I do not need to be commanded," said Sophia sharply as Daoud turned his
back on her, motioning Celino to follow him.

_What in the name of God am I to do with these people?_

Daoud strode across the marble platform and picked his way down a flight
of cracked stairs to the edge of the Tiber. He followed a line of
tumbled stones, once part of an embankment, until he felt sure Sophia
and the girl could not hear them.

Then he whirled, bringing his face inches from Celino's.

"You fool! I ought to kill you for what you have done."

He heard a soft growl to his right.

"Send your damned dog away," he said, without taking his eyes off
Celino.

"Of course," said Celino calmly. "Scipio!" He snapped his fingers. "To
the horses. Go!"

The hound turned, head and tail lowered, and walked away. But he swung
his long muzzle around to glance back at Daoud as he moved off. His
pupils reflected the moonlight like two silver coins.

"Give me the jewels you're carrying," said Daoud.

"Of course," said Celino again, promptly unbuckling his belt. Daoud
tensed himself in case the Sicilian should go for his dagger. But Celino
held the belt up so that the twelve unset stones--rubies, pearls and
amethysts--could roll out of the hidden pocket into Daoud's palm. Daoud
added them to the twelve already in his