He flung over a stone; at its sudden and startling descent a black cloud of ravens and vultures, gorged with human flesh, rose on the wing, high above the battlements, their slow-sailing shadows darkening the face of the sky. Vashti, as they passed, drew back with a shudder, and as she did so, her eyes fell upon a sight still more startling and awful. _Now_ she knew the origin of the weird and midnight cries! There, beyond the ravine, under the cold light of the pitiless stars, were rows upon rows of crosses; and to every cross was nailed a naked human form! The number of these crosses was past all counting; they circled the whole city, extending as far back as the Roman wall, whose castellated outline was dimly visible from the battlements. How many of the crucified victims were dead; how many were bearing their sufferings in heroic silence; how many had reached the sullen stupor that is the immediate precursor of death, it was impossible to tell. Vashti might have thought all dead, but that every now and then some poor wretch, now in this quarter and now in that, lifting his hitherto bowed head would shiver convulsively, and would break the stillness of the night by a long-drawn mournful cry of pain, a cry that might have caused the coldest, sternest nature to weep, but seemed to have no effect upon Simon. “In God’s name, who are these?” gasped Vashti. “Jewish deserters. It is thus that Titus receives those that come to him from the city, nor do I pity them. Let them die; they deserve their doom. Mark,” he continued, “mark the ill-fortune that has attended all who have deserted the holy cause! In the early days of the siege Titus was wont to receive such renegades with favor, a favor, however, that proved the doom of many, who, eating too freely of the food given to them, burst, and so died.” He paused, with a vindictive smile, and then resumed. “They were succeeded by other deserters, who, ere leaving the city, swallowed gold pieces and precious stones, thinking to recover them after they had passed the Roman lines. Fatal avarice! The secret became known to the Syrian and Arabian allies deputed to take charge of these deserters; they slew them and cut open their bodies to get at the treasures. In this way were two thousand of them killed in one night.” Again he smiled vindictively. “At last Titus, growing stern, as he saw the little progress made by his arms, sent to our walls a herald to proclaim that he would receive no more deserters; let the whole body of the people come forth, or none. Regardless of this decree, fresh parties made their way to the Roman camp, to be sent back to the city, a shrieking train of victims, with their hands lopped off.” Again that vindictive smile. “And now,” added Simon, pointing to the ghastly scene before them, “now he hath taken to this way of dealing with them. _They are crucified to the number of five hundred a day!_” The vengeance of history!