The Jewish multitude, pale-eyed and anxious, trooped to the city walls. To their surprise the encircling lines of legionaries that had been posted to the east, and to the west, and to the south, of the city were all in motion, taking their way to the camp at Scopus. Conjecturing what this new movement should mean, the Jews came to the conclusion that Cestius was massing all his troops for the final assault, to be delivered from the north. This was likewise the opinion of Crispus; his father was purposely leaving three sides of the city unguarded in the belief that the Jews would fight with less desperation, as knowing that a way of retreat was open to them both on flank and rear. By noontide all the various sections of the Roman army were seen to be concentrated upon the northern heights of Scopus. Not a cohort, not a maniple, not a single legionary, was visible elsewhere. Even those strategic points which on the previous day had been won at the cost of so much toil and blood were all relinquished, the troops that held them having withdrawn to join the common host. This last movement was, in the eyes of the Jewish multitude, a very mysterious one. What did it mean? They looked on in silent and breathless wonder. Suddenly, the shrill note of a trumpet rang out upon the morning air. The distant notes were borne by the breeze in faint cadence to the ears of Crispus. With a sudden thrill at his heart he listened, doubtful as to whether he could have heard aright. Again the trumpet sang out. The same strain as before. There was no mistaking its meaning, and Crispus sank back with a groan of despair. _It was the signal for retreat!_ The great army that had set out from Antioch burning to redeem Roman honor by recovering Jerusalem was now actually moving off again, at the very moment when it might have successfully accomplished its work; moving off--to quote the contemporary historian--“without any reason in the world!”[18] Silently the people stared, scarcely able to believe their eyes. Then, as each successive evolution made the truth more and more plain, there burst from a hundred thousand voices a yell that seemed to rend the very firmament. “THE ROMANS ARE RETREATING!” “It’s a stratagem to lure the Jews from the city,” said the bewildered Crispus, trying to delude himself with false hopes. “They will follow, and he will fall upon them.” He was right in saying that the Jews would follow. The gates of the city clanged wide, and an armed multitude, Simon at their head, poured forth with intent to harass the retreating foe. Crispus, watching with mournful and rueful visage, took his last look at the soldiers of the Roman rearguard as they stood in glittering splendor upon the sky-line. They had faced about on the very summit of Scopus to discharge a flight of arrows at the foremost column of the pursuing Jews; a few moments afterwards and they had disappeared behind the heights.