strengthen his arm. He fought as one having power
above that of men. On and on he forced his foe with increasing energy.
He gave him no chance to stop or turn aside. Yells of fury drowned the
clash of steel. The tumult grew. The son of Herod was near the pit.
He seemed to tempt the Roman to press him. Suddenly he leaped backward
to the very edge. The Roman rushed upon him. Before their swords met,
Antipater sprang aside with the quickness of a leopard. In cunning he
had outdone his foe. Unable to check his onrush, Vergilius leaped
forward and fell out of sight. A booming roar from the startled lion
rose out of the pit and hushed the tumult of the people. Herod,
pointing at his son, shrieked with rage as he bade the soldiers of the
cohort to seize and put him in irons.

A score of slaves hastened to the mouth of the pit. They caught the
ropes and quickly lifted the arena. As it came into view the tumult
broke out afresh. There far spent, resting on his bloody weapon, near
the middle of the arena stood Vergilius, and the lion lay dead before
him.

Slaves opened the iron gate. Vergilius ran to the still form of the
slave-girl. He knelt beside her and kissed her lifeless hand.

"Poor child of God!" he whispered. "If indeed you loved me, I have no
wonder that you knelt here to die."

The master brought a wreath of laurel to the young tribune, saying:
"'Tis from the king." Vergilius seemed not to hear. Tenderly he
raised the lifeless body of Cyran in his arms. The spectators were
cheering. "Hail, victor!" they shouted.

"Hail, victor!" he whispered, looking into the dead face. "Blessed be
they who conquer death."

CHAPTER 25

The day was near its end. Soldiers of the cohort, bearers of the dead,
harpers and singers filed through the gate of Herod's palace. Hard by,
in Temple Street, were many people. An old man stood among them, his
white beard falling low upon a purple robe, his face turned to the sky.
He sang as if unconscious of all around him. Often he raised his hand,
which trembled like a leaf in the wind. Horses, maidens, and men
halted to hear the words:

"Now is the day foretold of them who dwell in
the dust of the vineyard.
Bow and be silent, ye children of God and ye of
far countries.
Consider how many lie low in the old, immemorial vineyard.
Deep--fathom deep--is the dust of the dead
'neath the feet of the living.

"Gone are they and th