city and the sanctuary should be destroyed, that there should be a
flood and that unto the end of the war desolations shall be
determined? Desolations, Costobarus! And Laodice is but a child and
delicately reared!"

"All these things may come to pass and not a hair of the heads of the
chosen people be harmed," he assured her.

"But Laodice is too young to have part in the conflict of nations, the
business of Heaven and earth and the end of all things!"

A courier strode into the hall and approached Costobarus, saw that he
was engaged in conversation and stopped. The merchant noted him and
withdrew to read the message which the man carried.

"A letter from Philadelphus," he said over his shoulder, as he moved
away from Hannah. "He hath landed in Cæsarea with his cousin Julian of
Ephesus. He will proceed at once to Jerusalem. We have no time to
lose. Ah, Momus?"

He spoke to a servant who had limped into the hall and stood waiting
for his notice. He was the ruin of a man, physically powerful but as a
tree wrecked by storm and grown strong again in spite of its
mutilation. Pestilence in years long past had attacked him and had
left him dumb, distorted of feature, wry-necked and stiffened in the
right leg and arm. His left arm, forced to double duty, had become
tremendously muscular, his left hand unusually dexterous. Much of his
facial distortion was the result of his efforts to convey his ideas by
expression and by his attempts to overcome the interference of his wry
neck with the sweep of his vision.