r, his voice
aglow with feeling. "When I heard you speak treason I cut off the end
of your girdle. But you left by some unguarded way and escaped the
fate of your fellows. You have not seen them since, and shall not.
When you see them die in the arena think what you escaped, although
deserving it more than they. Vile serpent! you brought the king, and
hoped to send me also to Hades. You are a traitor, and that I know.
Traitor to friend and country! Dare to provoke me further and I shall
slay you!"

"What would you, son of Varro?" said the other, sullenly.

"Wretch! If you would save your life, hide as becomes the asp. Creep
away from them who would put their feet upon you. Go live and die with
the wild men of the far deserts."

"Traitor to the gods!" said Manius, threatening with his sword. "Roman
Jew! I am of noble birth, and claim the right of combat."

"I give it, though you have no better right than dogs. Well, it would
please my hand to slay you. I know the name and father you have
dishonored, and you are grandnephew of the good Lady Claudia--noble
mother of Publius. For their sake I give you the right of combat. By
the wayside near Bethlehem are lonely hills. There, the seventh day
before the kalends, in the middle hour of the night, you shall see a
beacon-fire and near it my colors. Three friends may go with each, and
you and I will draw swords in the fire-light."

"I shall meet you there," said Manius. Vergilius, putting away his
weapon, turned quickly, and, without speaking, left the traitor's
palace with firm faith in the one God--that he was ever on the side of
the just who humbly sought his favor.

CHAPTER 24

The festival of games, in honor of Augustus, were about to begin at
Caesarea. Lately the highway from north to south, which passed the
gates of Jerusalem, had been as a fair of the nations. A host had
journeyed far to amuse the great king or to enjoy his holiday. Gayer
and more given to proud speech than they who came to the festivals of
the Temple, beneath the skull-bone there was yet a more remarkable
unlikeness.

These were mostly the children of Hatred, each heart a lair of wild
passions, each brain teeming with catlike gods. Here were they to be
lifted up by the power of love--the heathen, the debased. What a
gathering of the enemies of God and man! Crowding at the gates were
gladiators from Greece and Rome; Arab chiefs upon camels, with horses
trained for