But presently there came across the considerable distance that lay between him and Jerusalem, a sound remarkably distinct because of the utter stillness that prevailed. It was the jingle of harness and the ring of hoof-beats upon stones embedded in the gray earth. A Roman in armor polished like gold, with a floating mantle significantly bordered in purple, rode slowly into the open space, drew up his horse and stopped. The Maccabee looked at him sharply, then quitted his shelter and walked down toward the rider. At sight of him, the horseman clapped his hand to his short sword, but the Maccabee put up his empty hands and smiled at the man of all superior advantage. Then the light of recognition broke over the Roman's face. "You!" he cried. "I, Cæsar," the Maccabee responded. For a moment there was silence in which the Jew watched the flickering of amazement and perplexity on Titus' face. "What do you here, away from Ephesus, and worse, attempting to run my lines?" he demanded finally. The Maccabee signed toward the walls. "My wife is there," he said briefly. The Roman made an exclamation which showed the sudden change to enlightenment. "Solicitous after these many years?" he demanded. "She has two hundred talents," the Maccabee replied. Titus smiled and shook his head. "I ought to keep her there. Rome must get treasure enough out of that rebellious city to repay her for her pains in subjugating it." "Pay yourself out of another pocket than mine. It will take two hundred talents to repay me for all that I have suffered to get it. I want the countersign, Titus. You owe me it." "Will you come out of there, at once?" the Roman demanded. "Not that I suspect you will make the city harder to take, but I should dislike to make war on an old comrade in my Ephesian revels." The Maccabee looked doubtful. "I can not promise," he said. "At least do not hold off the siege until you see me again without the walls. It might lose you prestige in Rome." Titus swung his bridle while he gazed at the Maccabee. "I wish Nicanor were here," he said finally. "He might be able to see harm in you; but I never could. You will have to promise me something--anything so it is a promise--before I can let you in. Something to appease Nicanor, else I shall never hear the last of this." The Maccabee laughed, the sudden harsh laugh of one impelled to amusement unexpectedly. "Assure Nicanor, for me, that I shall come out of Jerusalem one day. Dead or alive, I shall do it! You need not add that I did not specify the date of my exodus. What is the word?" "Berenice. And Jove help you! Farewell." Titus rode on. A little later, after a parley with the Roman sentries and again with the sentries at the Gate of Hippicus, the Maccabee was admitted to the Holy City.