DAWN IN THE HILLS It was a night that the Maccabee did not readily forget.

Since the girl had moved on to avoid him, he had become alive to a delinquency that was more of a sensation than an admission.

His thought of her, that had been a diversion before, now seemed to be a transgression.

An incident of this nature during the fourteen years of his life in Ephesus would have engaged his conscience only a moment if at all, but at this last hour it amounted to a deflection from his newly resolved uprightness.
Julian rode in a constant air of expectancy and increasing irritation.
The slightest sound from the haunted hills elicited a start from him and his intense attention until the origin of the sound proved itself.
Many Passover pilgrims who had proceeded by night passed under his close scrutiny and from time to time he stopped the Maccabee in a speech with a peremptory command to listen.

All this engaged the Maccabee's interest, but he made no comment until, on occasion of his casual word in praise of the fidelity of Aquila, Julian flew into a rage and reviled the emissary until the Maccabee brought him up with a sharp word.
"Enough of that!" he exclaimed.