No sound came from the Sanctuary; its unseen sentinels moved with silent tread. Within the circumjacent cloisters, and hidden by the shadows, lay the Roman troops, sleeping on their arms, yet ready at the first blast of the trumpet to spring into life and action. Crispus and Rufus paced softly to and fro over the pavement of the Court of the Gentiles, seldom, if ever, removing their eyes from the Sanctuary, lest a sudden rush on the part of the enemy should take their troops by surprise. Crispus was thinking of the fate of the Roman Capitol which, nine months previously, in the civil war between the Vespasians and the Vitellians, had been destroyed by fire. Now the Capitol was the temple of sovereign Jupiter, and hence its fall had sent a profound sensation through the pagan world. It would be a fact more significant still, if, within the same year and by similar means, the great Jewish temple should fall. To minds intent on studying the signs of the times, the two events would seem as if foreshadowing the doom of two religions, that of heathendom, and that of Jewry. And doomed they were! They had played their preparatory part in the history of human progress, and were now to give place to a loftier and more spiritual faith. “Titus holds high council to-night,” remarked Rufus, suddenly breaking in upon Crispus’ thoughts. “He is for preserving the temple. Every man knows why. He is moved by love for the new Cleopatra. She and her brother Agrippa visited his quarters yesterday, and remained there for some time. We can guess what their talk was about. Now if this temple be permitted to stand, we shall continue to have the annual gatherings of treasonable Jews breathing defiance to Roman rule. The result will be another war, and we shall have all our work over again. And what a work it has been! Was there ever in all history a siege like this?” “And it is by no means over yet,” commented Crispus. “All our previous work will appear but as child’s play when we come to deal with the taking of Zion.” “My fear, too,” responded Rufus moodily. “This stubborn people, refusing to see that they are beaten, will go on fighting to the end. But as to this temple, my opinion is that since the Jews choose to turn it into a fortress it should be treated as such, and razed to the ground. If I were Titus,” he added emphatically, “I would destroy both city and temple, exclude all Jews from Judæa, and colonize it with Romans. Thus only shall we have peace.” Crispus fell into a reverie. He had, when a pagan, seen reasons to wish the temple at an end, and now, as a Christian, he could add to his reasons. It was thus that he argued within himself.