“Come on, girl,” said a man, but a secretary, looking up from his tablets, called to him: 

“Gently there with that lot, or you will hear about it.  She is Pearl-Maiden, the captive who made the quarrel between the Caesars and Domitian, of which all Rome is talking.  Gently, I tell you, gently, for many free princesses are worth less to-day.”

Hearing this, the man bowed to Miriam, almost with reverence, and begged her to follow him to a place that had been set apart for her.  She obeyed, passing through a great number of people, of whom all she could see in the gloom of the breaking dawn was that, like herself, they were captives, to a little chamber where she was left alone watching the light grow through the lattice, and listening to the hum of voices that rose without, mingled now and again with sobs and wails of grief.  Presently the door opened and a servant entered with bread on a platter and milk in an earthenware vessel.  These she took thankfully, knowing that she would need food to support her during the long day, but scarcely had she begun to eat when a slave appeared clad in the imperial livery, and bearing a tray of luxurious meats served in silver vessels.

“Pearl-Maiden,” he said, “my master, Domitian, sends you greeting and this present.  The vessels are your own, and will be kept for you, but he bids me add, that to-night you shall sup off dishes of gold.”

Miriam made no answer, though one rose to her lips; but after the man had departed, with her foot she overset the tray so that the silver vases fell clattering to the floor, where the savory meats were spilled.  Then she went on eating the bread and milk till her hunger was satisfied.

Scarcely had she finished her meal, when an officer entered the cell and led her out into a great square, where she was marshalled amongst many other prisoners.  By now the sun was up and she saw before her a splendid building, and gathered below the building all the Senate of Rome in their robes, and many knights on horses, and nobles, and princes from every country with their retinues—­a very wonderful and gallant sight.  In front of the building were cloisters, before which were set two ivory chairs, while to right and left of these chairs, as far as the eye could reach, were drawn up thousand upon thousands of soldiers; the Senate, the Knights and the Princes, as she could see from the rising ground whereon she stood, being in front of them and of the chairs.  Presently from the cloisters, clad in garments of silk and wearing crowns of laurel, appeared the Caesars, Vespasian and Titus, attended by Domitian and their staffs.  As they came the soldiers saw them and set up a mighty triumphant shout which sounded like the roar of the sea, that endured while the Caesars sat themselves upon their thrones.  Up and up went the sound of the continual shouting, till at length Vespasian rose and lifted his hand.