Then he turned and went.
That night, watching from the roof of her house by the light of the full moon, Miriam saw Marcus ride away at the head of his band of soldiers.
On the crest of a little ridge of ground outside the village he halted, leaving them to go on, and turning his horse's head looked backward.
Thus he stood awhile, the silver rays of the moon shining on his bright armour and making him a point of light set between two vales of shadow.
Miriam could guess whither his eyes were turned and what was in his heart.

It seemed to her, even, that she could feel his loving thought play upon her and that with the ear of his spirit he could catch the answer of her own.

Then suddenly he turned and was lost in the gloom of the night.
Now that he was gone, quite gone, Miriam's courage seemed to leave her, and leaning her head upon the parapet she wept tears that were soft but very bitter.

Suddenly a hand was laid upon her shoulder and a voice, that of old Nehushta, spoke in her ear.
"Mourn not," it said, "since him whom you lose in the night you may find again in the daytime." "In no day that dawns from an earthly sun, I fear me, Nou.

Oh, Nou! he has gone, and taken my heart with him, leaving in its place a throbbing pain which is more than I can bear." "He will come back; I tell you that he will come back," she answered, almost fiercely; "for your life and his are intertwined--yes, to the end--a single cord bearing a double destiny.