On the previous day Nero’s edict had been posted up in the public places of Cæsarea; it gave the precedency to the Greeks. Now, though it was plain to the least observant that the city was seething with excitement caused by the triumph of the one faction and the mortification of the other, Rufus and his cohort had been commanded by the procurator to return to Jerusalem on the ground that all was quiet at Cæsarea! “And Florus himself,” remarked Rufus, “is withdrawing to Sebaste with his legion, so that the city will be entirely denuded of troops. Pluto take me!” he continued, knitting his brows in perplexity, “if I can understand his conduct save upon the supposition that he wants to kindle the torch of war.” The two rode on in silence for a while. Then Crispus, who from time to time had been glancing back at the marching troops, said, with a somewhat perplexed air: “Rufus, there is something lacking in thy cohort. What is it? Ah! I have it. The eagle! Where is it?” “Purposely left behind in the Prætorium at Cæsarea.” “Name of Mars!--why?” “In going through Judæa we have to pay respect to the Jewish superstition, which, as you know, regards all images with abhorrence.” Crispus was for the moment dumb with indignation. “What!” cried he. “We must not carry our standards in a country conquered by us? Doth Rome rule Judæa, or Judæa Rome?” “Judæa doth, in this matter at least, rule Rome.” “I pray you, Rufus,” said Crispus, reining in his steed, “bid a centurion return for the eagle.” But Rufus shook his head. “Pontius Pilate was of like mind with you. He made his first entry into Jerusalem with figured banners. For three days and two nights the Jewish populace howled, raged, and wept round his Prætorium. At the end of the third day he sent his troops among them with drawn swords. The Jews flung themselves prostrate, bared their necks, and cried that they would rather die than see their laws broken. “What could dismayed Pilate do? He couldn’t massacre a whole people in the first week of his government. Compelled sullenly to yield, he sent the ensigns back to Cæsarea. Since that day no troops dare venture into Jerusalem save with plain banners.” “Forbidden to carry the eagles,” muttered Crispus wrathfully. “How long shall this be?” “Till our next war with them, when we shall more thoroughly vindicate the supremacy of Rome, and be masters in our own house.” “When will that be?” “’Tis but a matter of days, in my opinion.” Days! To Crispus this was startling news, and yet not unwelcome.