When, during the night which preceded the praetor’s birthday, the Emperor should study the heavens with special reference to the position of the stars at his birth, he would find that, as far as till the end of the second hour after midnight all the favorable planets promised Verus a happy lot, success and distinction.  But, with the commencement of the third hour—­so said Ben Jochai—­misfortune and death would take possession of his house of destiny; in the fourth hour his star would vanish, and anything further that might declare itself in the sky during that night would have nothing more to do with him, or his destiny.  The Emperor’s star would triumph over his.  Verus could make out but little of the signs and calculations in the tables annexed by the Jew, but that little confirmed what was told in the written statement.

The praetor’s horses carried him swiftly along while he reflected on what remained for him to do under these unfavorable circumstances, in order not to be forced to give up entirely the highest goal of his ambition.  If the Rabbi’s observations were accurate—­and of this Verus did not for a moment doubt—­all his hopes of adoption were at an end in spite of Sabina’s support.  How should Hadrian choose for his son and successor a man who was destined to die before him?  How could he, Verus, expect that Caesar should ally his fortunate star with the fatal star of another doomed to die?

These reflections did nothing to help him, and yet he could not escape from them, till suddenly his charioteer pulled up the horses abruptly by the side of the footway to make room for a delegation of Egyptian priests who were going in procession to Lochias.  The powerful hand with which his servant had promptly controlled the fiery spirit of the animals excited his approbation, and seemed to inspire him to put a clog boldly on the wheels of speeding fate.  When they were no longer detained by the Egyptian delegates he desired the charioteer to drive slowly, for he wished to gain time for consideration.

“Until the third hour after midnight,” said he to himself, “all is to go well; it is not till the fourth hour that signs are to appear in the sky which are of evil augury for me.  Of course the sheep will play round the dead lion, and the ass will even spurn him with his hoof so long as he is merely sick.  In the short space of time between the third and fourth hours all the signs of evil are crowded together.  They must be visible; but”—­and this “but” brought sudden illumination to the praetor’s mind, “why should Caesar see them?”

The anxious aspirant’s heart beat faster, his brain worked more actively, and he desired the driver to make a short circuit, for he wanted to gain yet more time for the ideas that were germinating in his mind to grow and ripen.