The spot was treeless and marked with broad low hummocks of new sod.
Julian halted.
"Shall we camp here ?" he asked.
"It hath the recommendation of variety," the Maccabee said wearily.
"Eheu! How I shall miss the greensward of Ephesus! Yes, we'll camp!" They dismounted and while Julian unpacked their blankets, the Maccabee collected dead reeds and cedar twigs and built a fire.

Then he stretched himself by the sweet-smelling flame.
"She can not have kept up with our horses; indeed it is unlikely that they moved far," he thought, and thus assured that there was no danger to the girl for whom he had become a self-constituted guardian, he ate a piece of bread, drank a cup of wine and fell asleep.
His slumber was not entirely unconscious.

So long as the movements of his cousin continued regular about him, he lay still, but once, when Julian approached too near, his eyes opened full in the face of the man about to lean over him.

The Ephesian raised himself hastily and the Maccabee's eyes closed again.
"A pest on an eye that only half sleeps!" Julian said to himself.

"He hasn't lost count on the minutes since he left Caesarea!" The morning broke, the sun mounted, the deserted road became populous with all the previous day's host of pilgrims, and the silence in the hills failed before the procession that should not cease till night fell again.