'The old dame brought her hither among a cargo of captive boys and girls.' 'The time agrees....

Can this Miriam be found ?' 'A sapient and courteous question for a monk to ask! Do you not know that Cyril has expelled all Jews four months ago ?' 'True, true....

Alas!' said the old man to himself, 'how little the rulers of this world guess their own power! They move a finger carelessly, and forget that that finger may crush to death hundreds whose names they never heard--and every soul of them as precious in God's sight as Cyril's own.' 'What is the matter, my father ?' asked Philammon.

'You seem deeply moved about this woman....' 'And she is Miriam's slave ?' 'Her freedwoman this four years past,' said the porter.

'The good lady--for reasons doubtless excellent in themselves, though not altogether patent to the philosophic mind--thought good to turn her loose on the Alexandrian republic, to seek what she might devour.' 'God help her! And you are certain that Miriam is not in Alexandria ?' The little porter turned very red, and Philammon did so likewise; but he remembered his promise, and kept it.
'You both know something of her, I can see.