Having passed the outer terraces of the amphitheatre in safety, Nehushta
turned down a side street, and paused in the shadow of the wall to think
what she should do. So far they were safe; but even if her strength
would stand the strain, it seemed impossible that she should carry her
mistress through the crowded city and avoid recapture. For some months
they had both of them been prisoners, and as it was the custom of the
inhabitants of Cæsarea, when they had nothing else to do, to come to the
gates of their jail, and, through the bars, to study those within, or
even, by permission of the guards, to walk among them, their appearance
was known to many. Doubtless, so soon as the excitement caused by the
illness of the king had subsided, soldiers would be sent to hunt down
the fugitives who had escaped from the amphitheatre. More especially
would they search for her, Nehushta, and her mistress, since it would be
known that one of them had stabbed the warden of the gate, a crime for
which they must expect to die by torture. Also--where could they go who
had no friends, since all Christians had been expelled the city?

No, there was but one chance for them--to conceal themselves.

Nehushta looked round her for a hiding-place, and in this matter, as in
others on that day, fortune favoured them. This street in the old days,
when Cæsarea was called Strato's Tower, had been built upon an inner
wall of the city, now long dismantled. At a distance of a few yards
from where Nehushta had stopped stood an ancient gateway, unused save
at times by beggars who slept under it, which led nowhere, for the outer
arch of it was bricked up. Into this gateway Nehushta bore her mistress
unobserved, to find to her relief that it was quite untenanted, though
a still smouldering fire and a broken amphora containing clean water
showed her that folk had slept there who could find no better lodging.