In front of them all was Miriam, who looked all round the wide space-
expectant; seeking something, and disappointed. He was not there, and
yet she had heard him come in; and the gate had not opened and closed a
second time, of that she was perfectly certain. Some of the slaves went
to the stables, others went outside the gate into the street to enjoy the
coolness of the evening; they sat in groups on the ground, looking up at
the stars, chattering or singing. Only the shepherdess remained in the
court-yard seeking him on all sides, as if she were hunting for some lost
trinket. She searched even behind the millstones, and in the dark sheds
in which the stone-workers' tools were kept.

Then she stood still a moment and clenched her hands; with a few light
bounds she sprang into the shadow of the Gaul's house. Just in front of
Sirona's window lay the steinbock; she hastily touched it with her
slender naked toes, but quickly withdrew her foot with a shudder, for it
had touched the beast's fresh wound, wet with its blood. She rapidly
drew the conclusion that: he had killed it, and had thrown it down here,
and that he could not be far off. Now she knew where he was in hiding-
and she tried to laugh, for the pain she felt seemed too acute and
burning for tears to allay or cool it. But she did not wholly lose her
power of reflection. "They are in the dark," thought she, "and they
would see me, if I crept under the window to listen; and yet I must know
what they are doing there together."

She hastily turned her back on Sirona's house, slipped into the clear
moonlight, and after standing there for a few minutes, went into the
slaves' quarters. An instant after, she slipped out behind the
millstones, and crept as cleverly and as silently as a snake along the
ground under the darkened base of the centurion's house, and lay close
under Sirona's window.