“But perhaps my fortune is not a common one-and I beg of you to calculate on Hadrian’s method what the heavens will predict on that night for the man whose horoscope my slave shall deliver to you early to-morrow morning.”

“I will do so with pleasure.”

“When can you have finished this work?”

“In four days at latest, perhaps even sooner.”

“Capital!  But one thing more.  Do you regard me as a man, I mean, as a true man?”

“If you were not, would you have given me such reason to be grateful to you?”

“Well then, conceal nothing from me, not even the worst horrors, things that might poison another man’s life, and crush his spirit.  Whatever you read in the celestial record, small or great, good or evil.  I require you to tell me all.”

“I will conceal nothing, absolutely nothing.”

The praetor offered Ben Jochai his right hand, and warmly pressed the Jew’s slender, well-shaped fingers.  Before he went away he settled with him how he should inform him when he had finished his labors.

The Alexandrian with his guests and children accompanied the praetor to the door.  Only Ben Jamin was absent; he was sitting with his companions in his father’s dining-room, and rewarding them for the assistance they had given him with right good wine.  Gamaliel heard them shouting and singing, and pointing to the room he shrugged his shoulders, saying, as he turned to his host: 

“They are returning thanks to the God of our fathers in the Alexandrian fashion.”

And peace was broken no more in the Jew’s house but by the firm tramp of lictors and soldiers who kept watch over it, under arms.

In a side street the praetor met the tailor he had knocked down, the sausage-maker, and other ringleaders of the attack on the Israelite’s house.  They were being led away prisoners before the night magistrates.  Verus would have set them at liberty with all his heart, but he knew that the Emperor would enquire next morning what had been done to the rioters, and so he forbore.  At any other time he would certainly have sent them home unpunished, but just now he was dominated by a wish that was more dominant than his good nature or his facile impulses.

CHAPTER VII.

When he reached the Caesareum the high-chamberlain was waiting to conduct him to Sabina who desired to speak with him notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, and when Verus entered the presence of his patroness, he found her in the greatest excitement.  She was not reclining as usual on her pillows but was pacing her room with strides of very unfeminine length.

“It is well that you have come!” she exclaimed to the praetor.  “Lentulus insists that he has seen Mastor the slave, and Balbilla declares—­but it is impossible!”

“You think that Caesar is here?” asked Verus.

“Did they tell you so too?”