At a distance it
could not be seen that any of those inwalled splendors lacked;
Jerusalem appeared intact, but the multitudes at the gate were absent
and the voice of the city was stilled.
For one expecting to find Jerusalem animated and beholding it still
and lifeless, how quickly its white walls, its white houses and its
sparkling Temple became haunted, dead crypts and sepulchers.
But presently there came across the considerable distance that lay
between him and Jerusalem, a sound remarkably distinct because of the
utter stillness that prevailed. It was the jingle of harness and the
ring of hoof-beats upon stones embedded in the gray earth.
A Roman in armor polished like gold, with a floating mantle
significantly bordered in purple, rode slowly into the open space,
drew up his horse and stopped. The Maccabee looked at him sharply,
then quitted his shelter and walked down toward the rider. At sight of
him, the horseman clapped his hand to his short sword, but the
Maccabee put up his empty hands and smiled at the man of all superior
advantage. Then the light of recognition broke over the Roman's face.
"You!" he cried.
"I, Caesar," the Maccabee responded. For a moment there was silence in
which the Jew watched the flickering of amazement and perplexity on
Titus' face.
"What do you here, away from Ephesus, and worse, attempting to run my
lines?" he demanded finally.
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