uld see the open top of the barred
space, but the beast was beyond their vision.

Another trumpet-call. A band of prisoners have entered the court.
Antipater, tall and erect in exomis of plain gray, right arm and
shoulder bare, walked in the centre of the front rank. Traitors of the
betrayed council were there beside him. Slowly they about to die came
forth and stood in even rank and bowed low before the king. Herod beat
his palms upon the golden rail before him and muttered hoarsely. Then
with raised finger and leering face he taunted them.

"Outlaws!" he croaked. "I doubt not ye be also cowards."

All drew back save Antipater and a huge Scythian bandit. They drew
broadswords and rushed together, fighting with terrific energy. The
Scythian fell in a moment. One after another four conspirators came to
battle with their chief, but each went down before his terrible attack.
Some asked for mercy as they fell, but all perished by the hand of him
they had sought to serve. Held for the battle of the pit, the young
Roman whom Vergilius had recognized in the council chamber advanced to
meet Herod's son. He had won his freedom in the arena and lost it in
the conspiracy of the prince. He was a tall, lithe, splendid figure of
a man. The heart of the young commander was touched with pity as he
beheld the comely youth. This game, invented by Antipater himself, was
a test of strength and quickness. Nets were the only weapons, strong
sinews and a quick hand the main reliance of either. Each tried to
entangle the other in his net and secure a hold. Then he sought to
rush or drag his adversary to the edge of the pit and force him down.
Weapons lay on every side of the arena below. The unfortunate had,
therefore, a chance to defend himself against the lion.

On the signal to begin, Jew and Roman wrestled fiercely, their weapons
on their arms, but neither fell. Suddenly Antipater broke away and
flung his net. Nimbly the other dodged. Down came the net, grazing
his head. Swiftly he sprang upon the Jew, striving to entangle him.
Antipater pulled away. Again the Roman was upon his enemy and the two
struggled to the very noses of the cohort. Hard by the centre of the
column, where sat Vergilius on his charger, the powerful prince threw
his adversary, and, choking him down, secured the net over his head.
Swiftly he began to drag the fallen youth. Vergilius, angered by the
prince's cruelty, could no longer hold his p