“Do not run—stand still,” said Nehushta to Miriam, “and show no sign of fear.”
So Miriam halted and began to gather a few autumn flowers that still bloomed among the bushes, till the shadow of the officer fell upon her—that shadow in which she was destined to walk all her life-days.
“Lady,” said a pleasant voice in Greek, spoken with a somewhat foreign accent—“lady, pardon, and I pray you, do not be alarmed. I am a stranger to this part of the country, which I visit on official business. Will you of your kindness direct me to the village of a people called Essenes, who live somewhere in this desert?”
“Oh, sir!” answered Miriam, “do you, who come with Roman soldiers, mean them any harm?”
The officer stared at her—this beautiful, blue-eyed, white-skinned, delicate-featured girl, whose high blood proclaimed itself in every tone and gesture.
“You, lady, of the community of the Essenes! Surely then those priests in Jerusalem lie more deeply than I thought. They told me that the Essenes were old ascetics who worship Apollo, and could not bear so much as the sight of a woman. And now you say you are an Essene—you, by Bacchus! you!” and he looked at her with an admiration which, although there was nothing brutal or even rude about it, was amusingly undisguised.
“Their guest? Why, this is stranger still. If these spiritual outlaws—the word is that old high priest’s, not mine—share their bread and water with such guests, my sojourn among them will be happier than I thought.”
“They brought me up, I am their ward,” Miriam explained again.
“In truth, my opinion of the Essenes rises, and I am convinced that those priests slandered them. If they can shape so sweet a lady, surely they must themselves be good and gentle”; and he bowed gravely, perhaps to mark the compliment.
“Sir, they are both good and gentle,” answered Miriam; “but of this you will be able to judge for yourself very shortly, seeing that they live near at hand. If you will follow us over yonder rise we will show you their village, whither we go.”
“By your leave, I will accompany you,” he said, dismounting before she could answer; then added, “Pardon me for one moment—I must give some orders,” and he called to a soldier, who, with his companions, had halted at a little distance.