"For a time, perhaps, until I find a tenant. I am not accustomed to towns, and at present they seem to stifle me."
"Where were you brought up, sir?"
"Among the Essenes by Jericho. But I am not an Essene--their creed disgusted me; I belong to that of my fathers."
"There are worse men," replied Benoni. "A brother of my late wife is an Essene, a kindly natured fool named Ithiel; you may have known him."
"Oh, yes, I know him. He is one of their curators and the guardian of the lady Miriam, his great-niece."
The old man started violently, then, recovering himself, said: "Forgive me, but Miriam was the name of my lost wife--one which it disturbs me to hear. But how can this girl be Ithiel's grand-niece? He had no relations except his sister."
"I do not know," answered Caleb carelessly. "The story is that the lady Miriam, whom they call the Queen of the Essenes, was brought to them nineteen or twenty years ago by a Libyan woman named Nehushta,"--here again Benoni started--"who said that the child's mother, Ithiel's niece, had been shipwrecked and died after giving birth to the infant, commanding that it should be brought to him to be reared. The Essenes consenting, he accepted the charge, and there she is still."
"Then is this lady Miriam an Essene?" asked Benoni in a thick, slow voice.
"No; she is of the sect of the Christians, in which faith she has been brought up as her mother desired."
The old man rose from his couch and walked up and down the portico.
"Tell me of the lady Miriam, sir," he said presently, "for the tale interests me. What is she like?"
"She is, as I believe, the most beautiful maiden in the whole world, though small and slight; also she is the most sweet and learned."
"That is high praise, sir," said Benoni.
"Yes, master, and perhaps I exaggerate her charms, as is but natural."
"Why is it natural?"
"Because we were brought up together, and I hope that one day she will be my wife."
"Are you then affianced to this maid?"
"No, not affianced--as yet," replied Caleb, with a little smile; "but I will not trouble you with a history of my love affairs. I have already trespassed too long upon your kindness. It is something to ask of you who may not desire my acquaintance, but if you will do me the honour to sup with me to-morrow night, your servant will be grateful."
"I thank you, young sir. I will come, I will come, for in truth," he added hastily, "I am anxious to hear news of all that passes at Jerusalem, which, I understand, you left but a few days since, and I perceive that you are one whose eyes and ears are always open."