Meeting a rush at the gate they drew swords and coolly
hacked their way through screams of fear and pain and amazement. After
them went a wave of curses and complaint. Citizens against the
visitors; visitors against the citizens; soldiers against them all!
"And this cousin of mine meant to pacify all this!" the Ephesian
exclaimed to himself.
Jerusalem, that had for fifteen hundred years adorned herself at this
time with tabrets and had gone forth in the dance of them that make
merry, was drunken with wormwood and covered with ashes.
All at once the Ephesian saw four soldiers standing together and with
them, manifestly under their protection, was a Greek of striking
beauty. He wore on his fine head a purple turban embroidered with a
golden star.
Without a moment's hesitation, the Ephesian approached. The spears of
the four soldiers fell and formed a barrier around the Greek. The
new-comer smiled confidently.
"Greeting, servant of Amaryllis," he said. "I am your lady's expected
guest."
The Greek came forth from the square formed by his guard.
"I am that servant of Amaryllis," he said courteously. "But show me
yet another sign."
The Ephesian drew from his bosom the Maccabaean signet and flashed its
blue fires at the Greek. The servant stepped hastily between the
soldiers and the new-comer.
"Thy name?" he asked in a whisper.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145