the depths of the cavern. A winding path
descended and turned abruptly. The group followed it, and soon arrived
at the threshold of a kind of grotto, somewhat larger than the other
subterranean cells.

An arched window at the back of this chamber gave directly upon
a precipice, which formed a defence for one side of the castle. A
honeysuckle vine, cramped by the low-studded ceiling, blossomed bravely.
The sound of a running stream could be heard distinctly. In this place
was a great number of beautiful white horses, perhaps a hundred. They
were eating barley from a plank placed on a level with their mouths.
Their manes had been coloured a deep blue; their hoofs were wrapped in
coverings of woven grass, and the hair between their ears was puffed out
like a peruke. As they stood quietly eating, they switched their tails
gently to and fro. The proconsul regarded them in silent admiration.

They were indeed wonderful animals; supple as serpents, light as birds.
They were trained to gallop rapidly, following the arrow of the rider,
and dash into the midst of a group of the enemy, overturning men and
biting them savagely as they fell. They were sure-footed among rocky
passes, and would jump fearlessly over yawning chasms; and, while ready
to gallop across the plains a whole day without tiring, they would stop
instantly at the command of the rider.

As soon as Jacim entered their quarters, they trotted up to him, as
sheep crowd around the shepherd; and, thrusting forward their sleek
necks, they looked at him with a gaze like that of inquiring children.
From force of habit, he emitted a raucous cry, which excited them; they
pranced about, impatient at their confinement and longing to run.

Antipas, fearing that if Vitellius knew of the existence of these
creatures, he would take them away, had shut them up in this place, made
especially to accommodate animals in case of siege.

"This close confinement cannot be good for them," said Vitellius, "and
there is a risk of losing them by keeping them here. Make an inventory
of their number, Sisenna."

The publican drew a writing-tablet from the folds of his robe, counted
the horses, and recorded the number carefully.

It was the habit of the agents of the fiscal companies to corrupt the
governors in order to pillage the provinces. Sisenna was among the most
flourishing of these agents, and was seen everywhere with his claw-like
fingers and his eyelids continually blinking.