“This noble lord—­may the blessing of the Most High be on him—­staked his life to save us.  This beautiful robe he let be rent for our sakes, and every daughter of Israel should fervently kiss this torn chiton, which in the eyes of God is more precious than the richest robe—­as I do.”

And the old woman pressed the praetor’s dress to her lips, and tried to make Ismene do the same; but the praetor would not permit this.

“How can I allow my garment,” he exclaimed, laughing, “to enjoy a favor of which I should deem myself worthy—­to be touched by such lips.”

“Kiss him, kiss him!” cried the old woman, and the praetor took the head of the blushing girl in his hands, and pressing his lips to her forehead with a by no means paternal air, he said gaily: 

“Now I am richly rewarded for all I have been so happy as to do for you, Apollodorus.”

“And we,” exclaimed Gamaliel.  “We—­myself and my brother’s first-born son-leave it in the hands of God Most High to reward you for what you have done for us.”

“Who are you?” asked Verus, who was filled with admiration for the prophet-like aspect of the venerable old man and the pale intellectual head of his nephew.

Apollodorus took upon himself to explain to him how far the Rabbi transcended all his fellow Hebrews in knowledge of the law and the interpretation of the Kabbala, the oral and mystical traditions of their people, and how that Simeon Ben Jochai was superior to all the astrologers of his time.  He spoke of the young man’s much admired work on the subject called Sohar, nor did he omit to mention that Gamaliel’s nephew was able to foretell the positions of the stars even on future nights.

Verus listened to Apollodorus with increasing attention, and fixed a keen gaze on the young man, who interrupted his host’s eager encomium with many modest deprecations.  The praetor had recollected the near approach of his birthday, and also that the position of stars in the night preceding it, would certainly be observed by Hadrian.  What the Emperor might learn from them would seal his fate for life.  Was that momentous night destined to bring him nearer to the highest goal of his ambition or to debar him from it?

When Apollodorus ceased speaking, Verus offered Simeon Ben Jochai his hand, saying: 

“I am rejoiced to have met a man of your learning and distinction.  What would I not give to possess your knowledge for a few hours!”

“My knowledge is yours,” replied the astrologer.  “Command my services, my labors, my time—­ask me as many questions as you will.  We are so deeply indebted to you—­”

“You have no reason to regard me as your creditor,” interrupted the praetor, “you do not even owe me thanks.  I only made your acquaintance after I had rescued you, and I opposed the mob, not for the sake of any particular man, but for that of law and order.”

“You were benevolent enough to protect us,” cried Ben Jochai, “so do not be so stern as to disdain our gratitude.”