At length Titus came, the Senate, which long before his arrival had decreed him a Triumph, meeting him outside the walls, and there, after some ancient formalities communicating to him their decision.  Moreover, it was arranged that Vespasian, his father, should share in this Triumph, because of the great deeds which he had done in Egypt, so that it was said everywhere that this would be the most splendid ceremony which Rome had ever seen.  After this Titus passed to his palace and there lived privately for several weeks, resting while the preparations for the great event went forward.

One morning early Gallus was summoned to the palace, whence he returned rubbing his hands and trying to look pleased, with him, as Julia had said, a sure sign of evil tidings.

“What is it, husband?” she asked.

“Oh! nothing, nothing,” he answered, “except that our Pearl-Maiden here must accompany me after the mid-day meal into the august presences of Vespasian and Titus.  The Caesars wish to see her, that they may decide where she is to walk in the procession.  If she is held to be beautiful enough, they will grant to her a place of honour, by herself.  Do you hear that, wife—­by herself, not far in front of the very chariot of Titus?  As for the dress that she will wear,” he went on nervously, since neither of his auditors seemed delighted with this news, “it is to be splendid, quite splendid, all of the purest white silk with little discs of silver sewn about it, and a representation of the Gate Nicanor worked in gold thread upon the breast of the robe.”

At this tidings Miriam broke down and began to weep.

“Dry your tears, girl,” he said roughly, although the thickness of his voice suggested that water and his own eyes were not far apart.  “What must be, must be, and now is the time for that God you worship to show you some mark of favour.  Surely, He should do so, seeing how long and how often you pray to Him in burrows that a jackal would turn from.”

“I think He will,” answered Miriam, ceasing her sobs with a bold up-lifting of her soul towards the light of perfect faith.

“I am sure He will,” added Julia, gently stroking Miriam’s dark and curling hair.

“Then,” broke in Gallus, driving the point to its logical conclusion, “what have you to fear?  A long, hot walk through the shouting populace, who will do no harm to one so lovely, and after that, whatever good fate your God may choose for you.  Come, let us eat, that you may look your best when you appear before the Caesars.”

“I would rather look my worst,” said Miriam, bethinking her of Domitian and his bleared eyes.  Still, to please Gallus, she tried to eat, and afterwards, accompanied by him and by Julia, was carried in a closed litter to the palace.

Too soon she was there, arriving a little before them, and was helped from the litter by slaves wearing the Imperial livery.  Now she found herself alone in a great marble court filled with officers and nobles awaiting audience.