Belisarius nodded, and the sentry called in a little Jewish-looking man. "Ah! Jochem, the architect!" said Belisarius. "I knew you at Byzantium. You were to rebuild the church of St. Sophia. What became of that project?" "By your leave, general, nothing." "Why not?" "My plan only amounted to a million centenaria of gold; that was too little for his Imperial Majesty. For the more a Christian church costs, the more holy and pleasing to God. A Christian asked double the amount, and got the order." "But still I saw you building in Byzantium?" "Yes, general, my plan pleased the Emperor. I changed it a little, took out the altar-place, and afterwards built from it a riding-school." "You know Neapolis thoroughly--outside and inside?" "Outside and inside--as well as my moneybag." "'Tis well. You will direct the machines for the strategist against the walls and into the city. The houses of the friends of the Goths must come down first. Forward! Mind and do your business well, or else you will be impaled! Away!" "The poor city!" sighed Martinus. "But you will see, Jochem, how exact are the pyrobalistæ; and they work so easily, a child could manage them. And they act so splendidly!" And now in all the camp began a monstrous and danger-pregnant activity. The Gothic sentinels upon the ramparts saw how the heavy machines, drawn by twenty to thirty horses, camels, asses, or oxen, were brought before the walls, and divided along the whole line. Totila and Uliaris went anxiously to the walls and tried to meet this new danger with effectual means of defence. Sacks filled with earth were let down before the places threatened by the rams; firebrands were laid ready to set the machines on fire as they approached; boiling water, arrows, and stones were to be directed against the teams and drivers; and already the Goths laughed at the cowardly enemy when they noticed that the machines halted far out of the usual range of shot, and completely out of the reach of the besieged. But Totila did not laugh. He was alarmed to see the Byzantines quietly unharness the teams and arrange their machines. Not a projectile had yet been hurled. "Well," mocked young Agila, who stood near Totila, "do they mean to shoot at us from _that_ distance? They had better do it at once from Byzantium, across the sea! That would be still safer!" He had not ceased to speak, when a forty-pound stone knocked him, and a portion of the rampart upon which he stood, to pieces. Martinus had increased the range threefold. Totila saw that they were completely without defence against these terrible projectiles.