Once Miriam began to sing, and since she discovered that her voice pleased Marcus and soothed the slumbers of the elders, she sang often; quaint, sad songs of the desert and of the Jordan fishermen.

Also she told him tales and legends, and when she had done Nehushta told others--wild stories of Libya, some of them very dark and bloody, others of magic, black or white.

Thus these afternoons passed happily enough, and the clay model being finished, after the masons among the brethren had rough hewn it for her, Miriam began to fashion it in marble.
There was one, however, for whom these days did not pass happily--Caleb.
From the time that he had seen Miriam walking side by side with Marcus he hated the brilliant-looking Roman in whom, his instinct warned him, he had found a dangerous rival.

Oh, how he hated him! So much, indeed, that even in the moment of first meeting he could not keep his rage and envy in his heart, but suffered them to be written on his face, and to shine like danger signals in his eyes, which, it may be remembered, Marcus did not neglect to note.
Of Miriam Caleb had seen but little lately.

She was not angry with him, since his offence was of a nature which a woman can forgive, but in her heart she feared him.