osperity. She
was young, she had little experience, yet as Miriam sat there watching
the changeful sea, there came upon her a great sense of the instability
of things, and an instinctive knowledge of their vanity. The men who
were great one day, whose names sounded in the mouths of all, the next
had vanished, disgraced or dead. Parties rose and parties fell, high
priest succeeded high priest, general supplanted general, yet upon each
and all of them, like the following waves that rolled beneath her, came
dark night and oblivion. A little dancing in the sunshine, a little
moaning in the shade, then death, and after death----

"What are you thinking of, Miriam?" said a rich voice at her elbow, the
voice of Caleb.

She started, for here she believed herself alone, then answered:

"My thoughts matter nothing. Why are you here? You should be with your
fellow----"

"Conspirators. Why do you not say the word? Well, because sometimes one
wearies even of conspiracy. Just now we triumph and can take our ease.
I wish to make the most of it. What ring is that you wear upon your
finger?"

Miriam straightened herself and grew bold.

"One which Marcus sent me," she answered.

"I guessed as much. I have heard of him; he has become a creature of the
mad Nero, the laughing-stock of Rome."

"I do not laugh at him, Caleb."

"No, you were ever faithful. But, say, do you laugh at me?"

"Indeed not; why should I, since you seem to fill a great and dangerous
part with dignity?"

"Yes, Miriam, my part is both great and dangerous. I have risen high and
I mean to rise higher."

"How high?"

"To the throne of Judaea."

"I think a cottage stool would be more safe, Caleb."

"Mayhap, but I do not like such seats. Listen, Miriam, I will be great
or die. I have thrown in my lot with the Jews, and when we have cast out
the Romans I shall rule."

"_If_ you cast out the Romans, and _if_ you live. Caleb, I have no faith
in the venture. We are old friends, and I pray of you to escape from it
while there is yet time."

"Why, Miriam?"

"Because He Whom your people crucified and Whom I serve prophesied its
end. The Romans will crush you, Caleb. His blood lies heavy upon the
head of the Jews, and the hour of payment is at hand."

Caleb thought a while, and when he spoke again the note of confidence
had left his voice.

"It may be so, Miriam," he said, "though I put no faith in the sayings
of your prophet; but at least I have taken my