“Who art thou?” he asked. “Ananus, Simon’s chief captain,” was the proud answer. “Ah! And are all Simon’s captains as ugly as thou?” With a snarl of rage--for he knew himself to be illfavored, and nothing touched his vanity more than to be reminded of the fact--the slayer of the last high priest leaped fiercely up the stairs towards Crispus, who, at that moment, caught the welcome peal of Asaph’s trumpet. Then, to the amazement of the gazing crowd, Crispus, stepping backwards, actually sheathed his sword. They saw the reason a moment afterwards. At his feet lay a huge post, similar to those upon which Simon’s crucified victims hung. Crispus lifted this long beam in his arms, carefully adjusting its balance; and, as soon as Ananus appeared at the top of the stairs, he sent the head of this improvised battering-ram full tilt into the Zealot’s stomach with so tremendous an impact that not only did Ananus fly backwards, gasping and helpless, but in his fall he also carried with him the rest of the file that were coming up behind. The indignant howls of the bruised crew were as music to the ears of Crispus. Dropping the log, he instantly turned and fled, an act that naturally made the crowd below dash at once up the stairway in pursuit. But never did Grecian runner skim over the Olympic stadium more fleetly than did the Roman Crispus along that wall of Ophel. Ere the foremost of the Zealots had come tumbling over the top stair, he had reached the place where the rope hung, and, pausing for a moment to fling a gesture of defiance at his pursuers, he swung himself over the battlement, and made a rapid hand-over-hand descent to the foot of the ramparts, where stood the three Jews and the trembling Vashti. “Are you hurt?” she asked. “No, but I warrant Ananus is,” laughed Crispus. “For some days to come he’ll have no stomach for the fight. And now, away! See, they are opening a gate on our left.” Lifting Vashti--how thin and light she was!--he sped down the slope of Ophel with her, and succeeded in safely reaching the Roman lines. Determined to forestall any attempt on the part of Titus to detain her he dispatched Vashti that same hour of the night, under the care of two Christian soldiers, to the saints that dwelt at Pella. CHAPTER XXIII CLOSING IN The long blockade had failed to bring about the surrender of the city; and Titus was beginning to grow weary of the delay; in fancy he could hear the patricians of Rome laughing at the plebeian-born general, and declaring that a city taken by famine was not a very brilliant way of inaugurating the new dynasty of Flavian emperors. So it came to pass that on the day following Vashti’s departure for Pella, the mighty Roman host at a word from Titus roused itself to toil again like a giant refreshed by a long sleep. As the fortress Antonia was the key to the temple, Titus began by raising opposite this fortress four huge aggeres.