During these political crises Vespasian was under the necessity of having his position as commandant in Judæa successively recognized and confirmed by each new Cæsar, and as this was a matter requiring much time, it led to frequent pauses in the campaign, a state of affairs very much to the advantage of the revolutionary factions in Jerusalem. The Roman army destined to act against the holy city had formed a huge camp upon the seashore at a point a few miles to the north of Cæsarea, and here day by day with unfailing regularity the iron warriors of Rome went through those evolutions and exercises that had made them the masters of the world. This similitude of war naturally attracted crowds from the neighboring region. It became quite a custom with the fashionable Greeks of Cæsarea to take their morning promenade along the seashore for the purpose of witnessing a spectacle as thrilling almost as the contests at Olympia or the combats of the amphitheater. One fair, sunny morning in the month of June, just as the legions were beginning their daily drill, under the personal inspection of Vespasian and his son Titus, there drove up a magnificent chariot, which, by the grace of the lictors, was given a place considerably nearer to the exercising troops than was allowed to the ordinary spectator, for the occupant of the chariot was none other than the fair princess Berenice, who was paying her first visit to the Roman camp. No sooner had Titus detected her presence upon the field than he at once made his way to her side. His look and voice alike told how much he was enamored of the fascinating princess, who at the age of forty had, like Cleopatra, all the grace and beauty of youth. “Princess, you seem sad to-day,” said he, after an interval of silence. “Of what are you thinking?” “Perhaps,” she replied, with a tantalizing little sigh, “perhaps of Crispus.” “Why do you torment me with the name of a rival who is dead?” “_Is_ he dead?” said Berenice. “True, nothing has been heard of him since he parted from Terentius Rufus at Antipatris.” “And that is more than two years ago. The ban put upon him by Nero has been revoked. If he be alive why does he not show himself, since he has nothing now to fear?” “Except the being claimed by a wife whom he does not like,” said Berenice with a silvery laugh, and a glance at the house called Beth-tamar, which, seated on a lofty crag, was plainly visible from the camp. “Princess,” said Titus, with a tender look, “if Crispus should ever return it will mean to me----” Berenice raised her finger with a witching smile. “Ah me! Now you are going to make love again. We shall never be friends, if you do that. Let me watch your Romans. They interest me.” The air at that moment was all alive with the crisp, sharp commands of tribune, and centurion, and decurion.