On entering, he learned that King Polemo--Berenice’s ex-husband--was awaiting an interview with him in the Ivory Hall, a saloon so called from its paneling. Florus received the news with something like a frown. “What wants he with me?” he muttered, darkly. “’Tis he who has brought me to this.” But in a moment his face cleared again. “A friend of Cæsar! Ha! he may be of help to me in this crisis,” and he accordingly directed his steps to the Ivory Hall. “Bring wine,” commanded he; and this being done, Florus was left alone with his visitor. The friendship--if, indeed, it deserved the name--existing between the two men, had begun a year previously at Rome at the time when Florus was about to proceed to Judæa in the character of procurator. The king’s sudden attachment was a fact somewhat puzzling to Florus, who, however highly he might think of himself, was nevertheless secretly conscious that his character was not such as to appeal to a man of Polemo’s stamp. However, there the fact was: Polemo was evidently anxious to ingratiate himself into Florus’ good will, for, finding that the Roman was ill-provided with money, he supplied him with a sum sufficient to enable the new procurator to make a splendid entry into Cæsarea. Since that time Florus had received additional sums from the king. Never was there a more willing and a more charming lender than Polemo. Content with receiving written acknowledgments of the amount, he did not press for repayment. Let not Florus disturb himself; he could pay at his leisure. Delighted at this easy way of obtaining money, Florus had, in the course of one short year, recklessly borrowed again and again, till in his more sober moments he trembled to think how great was his debt. If suddenly called upon to refund the whole at once, he would be a ruined man. Of late Florus had grown very uneasy; the suspicion, nay, the certainty seized him that the king was trying to establish a sinister hold over him. There was in Polemo’s grave air and peculiar smile something that seemed to say, “What I bid you do, you will do!” And Florus, feeling himself chained hand and foot, durst not resent the other’s quiet air of mastership, for these were the days, be it observed, when the Roman law ordained that, whatever his rank (unless he belonged to the imperial family, who, of course, were above all law) the debtor unable to meet his liabilities must become the bond-slave of his creditor. That Polemo had some end in view was certain, but what it could be, Florus had, so far, not the least inkling. One fact, however, became increasingly clear. Polemo, who in days gone by had submitted to the rite of circumcision in order to gain the hand of Berenice, had now no love either for Judaism or the Jews, and spoke of the latter in terms of scorn and hatred.