Before his departure, however, he did Crispus a good service by introducing him to a brave and worthy Roman, Terentius Rufus by name. He was the captain of the garrison stationed at Jerusalem, and had come with his cohort to Cæsarea to aid in the work of suppressing the riots that were almost certain to arise upon the coming publication of Nero’s edict relative to the precedency claimed by the Jews and the Greeks. Terentius Rufus, like Crispus, had received an invitation to the banquet of Florus, and so, at the appointed time, the two presented themselves at the Prætorium. Upon making their way to the hall appropriated to the feast, a hall called Neronium after the reigning emperor, they paused a moment at the entrance to contemplate the sight. The marble saloon, supported by porphyry columns and blazing with the radiance of a thousand lamps, was a scene of glitter, movement, and color. Sweet spices burned in gilded tripods; the rarest flowers glowed from sculptured vases; the ivory triclinia with their purple cushions, the lavish display of gold and silver plate, the rich dresses and jewels of the ladies, made a picture destined to live long in the memory of Crispus. He marveled to see such splendor in the hall of a provincial governor. “Whence does Florus obtain the wealth that enables him to make such a display?” he asked. “There are others who would like an answer to that question,” replied Rufus, mysteriously. “Where _is_ Florus?” asked Crispus, glancing around, and not seeing the procurator. “Probably tickling his throat with a feather to produce a vomit,” answered Rufus, referring to the disgusting custom practiced by many Romans of that age for the purpose of creating an appetite. “You may trust him to do full justice to the banquet.” Crispus was not slow to recognize among the guests that type of physiognomy which, graved on Egyptian monuments long ere Rome was founded, has continued almost unchanged to the present day. “There are many Jews here to-night,” remarked he. “And Jewesses, too,” replied Rufus; “and here comes the fairest of them all, leaning upon the arm of Florus. For a wonder he’s sober!” There was a sudden cessation of tongues as a curtain that draped a certain archway was lifted by two bowing slaves to give entrance to the procurator. Glancing around, Florus immediately caught sight of Crispus, and advanced to give him welcome. He was accompanied by a lady, none other than the Princess Berenice, and as Crispus quietly surveyed her, he thought it no wonder that Titus should have fallen in love with her at first sight. She had dark hair and dark starry eyes, and a face which, when radiant with a smile as it was at that moment, was perfectly dazzling in its loveliness. Her figure, which was as beautiful as her face, was appareled in a robe of purple silk, embroidered with flowers of gold and adorned with the costliest pearls. She greeted Crispus with a sweet smile of recognition.