“There was but one way; the Jewish people must be goaded into war, a war in which their capital must sink in flames. “This is the key to Polemo’s frequent visits to Judæa; to his friendship with successive procurators--Felix, Festus, Albinus. With these, however, he failed to effect his purpose, but at last in Florus he found the tool he wanted. While you, princess, were on one side of that procurator, winning him to acts of clemency, Polemo was on the other, urging him to deeds of blood; all the provocative acts of Florus were due to the secret, the wicked policy of the Pontic king.” These words caused a deepening of Vashti’s horror. To think that she was the daughter of a king so coldblooded as deliberately to plan the extirpation of a whole nation, and all, so it seemed, on her account! At this point Titus intervened. “This secret history is doubtless interesting, but what hath it to do with Beth-tamar?” “I am coming to it, O Cæsar. It chanced in course of time that the Princess Berenice met my lord Crispus at a banquet at Antioch and became enamored of him.” Berenice gave a scornful laugh; but the statement was true, and her laugh deceived no one. “Polemo suspected this. Now, he had already in mind selected the son of his friend, Cestius the Legate, to be his successor in the sovereignty of Pontus, and it did not suit his policy that Berenice should marry Crispus, and thus again wear the crown that she had once despised. He therefore resolved to thwart her aim. While thinking how he might best succeed in this matter, he happened to pay a visit to Jerusalem, and there, by a singular turn of destiny, he saw one day in the temple-courts a maiden who immediately arrested his attention from the marvelous resemblance she bore to his mother Pythodoris in her youthful days. Avoiding the maiden herself, he made inquiries of others, and learned that her name was Vashti, and that she was the ward of him who now addresses you. He sought me out with eager questionings, and I was forced to admit that the supposed daughter of Hyrcanus was in reality a foundling, nor were proofs wanting to convince him beyond all doubt that in Vashti he had found his daughter Athenaïs, long supposed by him to be dead.” A strange sound broke from Berenice; amazement caused her figure to stiffen into a rigid attitude; for a few moments she sat thus, motionless and wordless; then slowly, mechanically, she turned her head and looked at Vashti. And of all the looks that Vashti had ever received none frightened her more than this; it was a look without a trace of maternal love--cold, disdainful, cruel; a look that said, as plainly as words could say, that she would never acknowledge the Nazarene apostate as a daughter of hers.