If Miriam wills it, I have told her she can leave me." "What I have said before I say again," replied Miriam, "that I will never do." Then Nehushta took her to the cabin, and presently the oars began to beat and the great galley stood out of the harbour, till in the silence of the sea the screams of the victims and the shouts of the victors died away, and as night fell naught could be seen of Tyre but the flare from the burning houses of the slaughtered Jews.
Save for the sobs and cries of the fugitives who had lost their friends and goods the night passed in quiet, since, although it was winter, the sea was calm and none pursued their ship.

At daybreak she anchored, and coming from the cabin with Nehushta, in the light of the rising sun Miriam saw before her a ridge of rocks over which the water poured, and beyond it a little bay backed by a desolate coast.

Nehushta also saw and sighed.
"What is this place ?" asked Miriam.
"Lady, it is the spot where you were born.

On yonder flat rock lay the vessel, and there I burned her many years ago.

See those blackened timbers half buried in the sand upon the beach; doubtless they are her ribs." "It is strange that I should return hither, and thus, Nou," said Miriam sighing.
"Strange, indeed, but mayhap there is a meaning in it.