Titus seemed genuinely troubled. Crispus had distinguished himself so well in the siege that it was hard to refuse him this favor. “Gladly would I grant your request, but that it comes too late. The Princess Berenice is desirous of obtaining possession of that damsel.” Crispus at that moment looked more dazed than when he fell from the drawbridge. “Berenice!” he murmured. “What would _she_ with Vashti?” “The princess likes to have pretty and graceful maidens about her. She made me promise that out of the spoils of the city I would give her this Vashti.” “And you will?” Titus shrugged his shoulders. “She was not content with an oral promise. She holds a parchment signed by my hand empowering her to claim Vashti as her slave.” In Crispus’ opinion it would be better, far better, for Vashti to die of slow starvation than to fall into the hands of the jealous Berenice, whose only object in this enslavement was to gratify her spirit of revenge. He said no more, knowing the uselessness of interceding, but he had quite made up his mind what he would do; and he could do it, too, in all good conscience. “Let Cæsar’s parchment bond say what it will,” said he within himself. “I will save Vashti from the doom intended for her, though it cost me my life.” CHAPTER XXI THE DYING CITY The gaunt specter of famine was stalking through Jerusalem. On the very first day of the siege the price of food had mounted so high that a bushel of wheat could not be had for less than a talent of gold,[28] but as soon as the Roman wall had cut off the Jews from all external supplies ten times ten talents could not purchase even a handful of grain. Then from ten thousand homes there rose up the cry for bread; but the heaven above was as brass; the God that had shed down manna upon their forefathers remained cold to all the wild wailings in the synagogues. He who had laid up food for himself was not certain of benefiting by his forethought, for the Zealots broke into whatsoever house they pleased, and upon those suspected of concealing food they inflicted torments so horrible as to seem rather the invention of fiends than of men. Among those hitherto preserved from the visits of the Zealots, though living in daily dread of such visits, were Vashti and her mother. The two dwelt all alone, since Miriam, in expectation of famine, had dismissed her handmaids at the beginning of the siege. Vashti had never known a more unhappy time than the present, and she had begun to doubt whether it would not have been wiser to have followed the counsel of the holy Simeon by escaping while it was possible from the doomed city.