At this point she broke in upon him.
"Wilt thou come here?" she asked, smiling, and with gracious bend of the head to Ben-Hur.
"Take the cup and fill it, I pray thee," she said to the latter. "My father is thirsty."
"I am thy most willing servant!"
Ben-Hur turned about to do the favor, and was face to face with Messala. Their glances met; the Jew's defiant; the Roman's sparkling with humor.
"O stranger, beautiful as cruel!" Messala said, waving his hand to her. "If Apollo get thee not, thou shalt see me again. Not knowing thy country, I cannot name a god to commend thee to; so, by all the gods, I will commend thee to--myself!"
Seeing that Myrtilus had the four composed and ready, he returned to the chariot. The woman looked after him as he moved away, and whatever else there was in her look, there was no displeasure. Presently she received the water; her father drank; then she raised the cup to her lips, and, leaning down, gave it to Ben-Hur; never action more graceful and gracious.
"Keep it, we pray of thee! It is full of blessings--all thine!"
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