CHAPTER XIX: JEWS AGAINST CHRISTIANS.
THE little porter, after having carried Arsenius's message to Miriam, had run back in search of Philammon and his foster-father; and not finding them, had spent the evening in such frantic rushings to and fro, as produced great doubts of his sanity among the people of the quarter.
At last hunger sent him home to supper; at which meal he tried to find vent for his excited feelings in his favourite employment of beating his wife.

Whereon Miriam's two Syrian slave-girls, attracted by her screams, came to the rescue, threw a pail of water over him, and turned him out of doors.

He, nothing discomfited, likened himself smilingly to Socrates conquered by Xantippe; and, philosophically yielding to circumstances, hopped about like a tame magpie for a couple of hours at the entrance of the alley, pouring forth a stream of light raillery on the passers-by, which several times endangered his personal safety; till at last Philammon, hurrying breathlessly home, rushed into his arms.
'Hush! Hither with me! Your star still prospers.

She calls for you.' 'Who ?' 'Miriam herself.

Be secret as the grave.