He had been hunting for a pretext ever since they had left Caesarea, but this one, suddenly opened to him, startled him.

He admitted now that it would not be wise to force a fight.
Whatever must be done should be done with least danger to himself.

It were better, he believed, to allay suspicion.
He spoke.
"How far is it to Jerusalem ?" "About eighty furlongs." "Then if we continue, we shall approach the gates after nightfall." "We shall not continue," Philadelphus remarked.

"We shall halt at Emmaus." "Do you think it would be better for us to camp here in the hills rather than to stop without the walls of Jerusalem between the city forces and the winter garrison of Titus and await the opening of the Gates ?" Julian asked after thought.
"We shall wait in Emmaus," the Maccabee repeated, his soul too filled with dream to note the change in his companion's manner.
"You have already lost three days," Julian charged him irritably.
"Jerusalem may be besieged; it may be long before I can ride in the wilderness again," the Maccabee answered.
"Right; your next journey through this place may be afoot--at the end of a chain," Julian averred.
The Maccabee raised his brows.
"Losing courage at the last end of the journey ?" he inquired.
"No! I never have believed in this project," Julian declared.
"Why ?" "Who believes in the prospects of a man determined to leap into Hades ?" But the Maccabee was already riding on with his head lifted, his eyes set upon the blue shadows on the western slopes of hills, lifted against the early morning sun.

Julian went on.
"You go, cousin, on a mission mad enough to measure up with the antics of the frantic citizens of Jerusalem.