She remained still, pretending to sleep, and again they appeared, scanning her closely and whispering to each other in eager tones.

Suddenly one of the faces turned a little so that the light fell on it.

Now Nehushta knew why in her dream it had seemed familiar, and in her heart thanked God.
"Brother Ithiel," she said in a quiet voice, "why do you hide like a coney in these rocks ?" Both heads disappeared, but the sound of whispering continued.

Then one of them rose again among the green grasses as a man might rise out of water.

It was Ithiel's.
"It is indeed you, Nehushta ?" said his well-remembered voice.
"Who else ?" she asked.
"And that lady who sleeps at your side ?" "Once they called her Queen of the Essenes; now she is a hunted fugitive, waiting to be massacred by Simon, or John, or Eleazer, or Zealots, or Sicarii, or any other of the holy cut-throats who inhabit this Holy City," answered Nehushta bitterly.
Ithiel raised his hands as though in thankfulness, then said: "Hush! hush! Here the very birds are spies.