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.

After a time the party returned to the court.  Heavy, round bronze lids, sunk in the stones of the pavement, covered the cisterns of the palace.  Vitellius noticed that one of these was larger than the others, and that when struck by his foot it had not their sonority.  He struck them all, one after another; then stamped upon the ground and shouted: 

“I have found it!  I have found the buried treasure of Herod!”

Searching for buried treasure was a veritable mania among the Romans.

The tetrarch swore that no treasure was hidden in that spot.

“What is concealed there, then?” the proconsul demanded.

“Nothing—­that is, only a man—­a prisoner.”

“Show him to me!”

The tetrarch hesitated to obey, fearing that the Jews would discover his secret.  His reluctance to lift the cover made Vitellius impatient.

“Break it in!” he cried to his lictors.  Mannaeus heard the command, and, seeing a lictor step forward armed with a hatchet, he feared that the man intended to behead Iaokanann.  He stayed the hand of the lictor after the first blow, and then slipped between the heavy lid and the pavement a kind of hook.  He braced his long, lean arms, raised the cover slowly, and in a moment it lay flat upon the stones.  The bystanders admired the strength of the old man.

Under the bronze lid was a wooden trap-door of the same size.  At a blow of the fist it folded back, allowing a wide hole to be seen, the mouth of an immense pit, with a flight of winding steps leading down into the darkness.  Those that bent over to peer into the cavern beheld a vague and terrifying shape in its depths.

This proved to be a human being, lying on the ground.  His long locks hung over a camel’s-hair robe that covered his shoulders.  Slowly he rose to his feet.  His head touched a grating embedded in the wall; and as he moved about he disappeared, from time to time, in the shadows of his dungeon.