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in a small way in such matters. This Dionysius is as flabby as the sponges he ships in from his native island. But make no mistake in the man; he is in character a close relative of the devilfish.” The seeker of information nodded his head. “It would do no good to see the man. You would come away, I am sure, nauseated with him. My advice is: stay away. He might wheedle something of value out of you and send it on to Linus.”

      Basil, clearly, was finding reason for discouragement in the picture drawn of Dionysius. “They were partners? What manner of man, then, is Kester of Zanthus?”

      “All I can tell you,” answered Benjie, “is that he left a reputation here for honesty; and that is an extraordinary thing for an army contractor to do.”

      Basil drew a breath of relief. “My future,” he said, “is going to depend on how much of that honesty he has retained.”

      He remained silent for a moment, and it was apparent that he was suffering from a sudden embarrassment. Benjie the Asker had of his own accord done him a very great service and was entitled to a reward. But how could a reward be paid out of empty pockets?

      While this thought was running through his mind he became aware that something had been dropped into the palm of his hand. It was round and cold. He opened his fingers cautiously and glanced down. It was a coin and, moreover, of gold. Deborra was standing beside him, and it was apparent that she had transferred the piece of gold into his possession without letting either of them see what she was doing. She was looking purposely away, and he could not catch her eye to convey his gratitude.

      “I shall be forever in your debt,” he said to the Asker, holding the coin. “Will you accept this from me?”

      “Gold!” cried Benjie. Taking the money, he gave it an ecstatic spin in the air. “The rarest and finest of all material things in the world. It makes and unmakes empires. It is dangerous, it leads men into evil designs, it corrupts their souls. But at the same time,” he declared, “I confess that it has a most grateful feel on the palm. I accept with gratitude. And I hope that someday, if Kester’s honesty is equal to the test, you will sit in ease and great power, even as King Midas, with whole columns of this most wonderful of metals stacked about you. Columns as tall as the Temple that Herod carried up into the sky when the people of Jerusalem insisted he must build it on the foundations of the Temple of Solomon.”

      “If that day comes,” said Basil, smiling, “there will be a column of it for you as well.”

      “I shall be well content with one as high as a camel can raise its rear heel.” He nodded his head gratefully. “May you always eat off gold plate and say your prayers before a golden shrine. May you wear a sword of gold at your belt.”

      Basil’s embarrassment returned when he left the room in the company of Deborra. “You were observant and very kind,” he said. “For two years now I have had no money in my possession. Since I was sold as a slave, my pockets have been empty.”

      “Did not Luke have money for you when you left Antioch? My grandfather thought that plenty had been sent.”

      “It cost him more than had been expected to purchase my freedom,” explained Basil. “My owner and his wife were a grasping pair and they held him to a hard bargain. He had nothing left when the transaction was completed except two copper coins.”

      The girl’s eyes opened wide with surprise. “How then did you get to Aleppo to meet Adam?”

      “Luke was not concerned. He said to me that the Lord would provide. And most truly He did. The first night we stopped at a small village and were directed to the house of a widow. My benefactor said to her, ‘Christ is risen,’ and she made an answer that seemed quite as strange but meant something to him——”

      Deborra interrupted in a low voice, “I think what the widow said was, ‘He sits at the right hand of God.’ ”

      “Those were the exact words. It seems that this established an understanding between them.”

      “A complete understanding, I am sure.”

      Basil did not ask any questions but went on with his account of the journey to Aleppo. “We stayed in the widow’s house that night. The same thing happened the following night when we went to the home of a maker of wheels, a humble man with a family of seven children. He gave us of his best nevertheless.”

      They parted in the hall, Basil returning to his room. He was filled with gratitude for the generosity and tact she had shown, but other considerations soon drove all thought of her from his head. Kester of Zanthus was alive. He, Basil, must get to Rome as soon as possible. How could such a long journey be accomplished? It occurred to him that Joseph might be generous enough to send him on his way with letters to people in Rome. The only other course open would be to join the crew of a ship sailing for the capital of the world. This he would be most reluctant to do, knowing that the lot of a sailor was no better than a step above slavery. He would not willingly place his wrists in chains again.

      2

      It developed that Joseph was unable to partake of any food that evening, and a female relative took his place at the round table where supper was served. She was large and billowy, and it seemed to Basil that she was regarding him with a hostile eye.

      “She is a cousin,” whispered Deborra, suppressing a smile with difficulty. “Her name is Hazzelelponi, but everyone calls her Old Gaggle. She is a great eater and will not pay much attention to anything else.”

      It was a spacious room, with windows opening on the north and east, and with fans swinging back and forth noiselessly on the ceiling. A servant in spotless white stood ready to serve them.

      “I have saved three quail from below.” Abraham, the servant, bent his head over the girl’s shoulder to whisper this information. “They are cooked in wine and very good, mistress. They were fattened on curds and young grasshoppers.”

      Deborra, whose cheeks showed a slight tinge of excitement as though this were an event of some importance, nodded her head in approbation of the quail. Then she asked, “What fish have you for us?”

      Abraham drew down the corners of his mouth in a disconsolate line. “None has been prepared,” he said. “Perhaps I could get you some of the mullet they are eating downstairs. Red mullet with a crayfish sauce. Most tasty, mistress.”

      Deborra shook her head. “I would rather not depend entirely on crumbs from my father’s table. What has been prepared for us?”

      It was soon apparent that a most excellent supper was in readiness. After the bones of the tender quail had been picked clean, a platter of kid’s meat was served on rice, with pearl barley sprinkled over it, a mound of capers in the center, and young blite chopped fine around the edge of the dish. This was followed by hard-boiled eggs with a sauce of cummin, cheese of goat’s milk with preserved quince, and a heaping dish of fresh peaches. Throughout the meal their cups were kept replenished with the delightful honey wine called mulsum.

      The appetite of the third member of the trio at table has already been commented on, and it is hardly necessary to say that she did full justice to this delicious supper. Both Deborra and Basil had the hearty capacity of youth and did not lag behind her. It was a long time before the last dish had been served and the towels and hot water provided. Hazzelelponi, who had become more silent as the meal progressed, showed no tendency to join them when they took their seats at a north window, where the last glint of the setting sun could be seen on the roof of the Temple. The sound of the shofarim, the horns with which the priests announced the coming of night, reached them with surprising clearness.

      “I have heard it every night of my life, and yet it still excites me,” said Deborra, listening intently. “Do you know much of our customs?”

      “Very little, I am sorry to say.”

      “It is ram’s horns the priests use, but they are heated and straightened out to get more length and tone. I have never seen them. No one sees them. The

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