ep her from poverty.

In answer Miriam, also speaking sadly, thanked them from her heart
for all their goodness, telling them she had long known this hour of
separation to be at hand. As to where she should dwell, since tumults
were so many in Jerusalem, she suggested that she might find a home in
one of the coast cities, where perhaps some friend or relative of the
brethren would shelter Nehushta and herself.

Instantly eight or ten of those present said that they knew such trusty
folk in one place or another, and the various offers were submitted to
the Court for discussion. While the talk was still going on there came
a knock upon the door. After the usual questions and precautions, a
brother was admitted who informed them that there had arrived in the
village, at the head of a considerable retinue, Benoni, the Jewish
merchant of Tyre. He stated that he desired speech with them on the
subject of his granddaughter Miriam, who, he learned, was, or had been
recently, in their charge.

"Here may be an answer to the riddle," said the President. "We know of
this Benoni, also that he purposed to demand his granddaughter of us,
though until he did so it was not for us to speak." Then he put it to
the Court that Benoni should be admitted.

To this they agreed, and presently the Jew came, splendidly attired, his
long white beard flowing down a robe that glittered with embroideries of
gold and silver. Entering the dim, cool hall, he stared in amazement at
the long half-circles of venerable, white-robed men who were gathered
there. Next his quick eyes fell upon the lovely maiden who, attended
by the dark-visaged Nehushta, sat before them on a seat of honour; and
looking, he guessed that she must be Miriam.

"Little wonder," reflected Benoni to himself, "that all men seem to love
this girl, since at the first sight of her my own heart softens."

Then he bowed to the President of the Court and the President bowed
back in answer. But not one of the rest so much as moved his head, since
already every man of them hated this stranger who was about to carry
away her whom they called their Queen.

"Sirs," said Benoni breaking the silence, "I come here upon a
strange errand--namely, to ask of you a maid whom I believe to be my
granddaughter, of whose existence I learned not long ago, and whom, as
it seems, you have sheltered from her birth. Is she among you here?" and
he looked at Miriam.

"The lady Miriam sits yonder," said the