Crispus, approaching the edifice upon its north side, experienced a strange thrill as he beheld, just as it had appeared in the dream, the golden-latticed window through which he had flung the incendiary torch. “Do you know, Rufus, to what room that window belongs?” he asked, pointing it out. “’Tis one of the windows of the Hall Gazith, the chamber in which the Sanhedrim meet to try those accused on a capital charge. Among others condemned there, was the founder of the sect of the Christians, who worship their Master as a god; though, methinks, if he had aught of divinity in him he should have delivered himself from his enemies.” They walked round to the east, the quarter that gave them the finest view of the edifice. It was a fabric of white marble, inferior, doubtless, in point of beauty to the graceful temples of Greece, but far superior to them in size and magnificence; and as for solidity, Rufus was careful to point out to the wondering Crispus that some of the blocks composing the external wall were no less than sixty feet in length! “A fortress within a fortress!” he murmured, viewing the fabric with the eye of a soldier. “He who captures the cloisters has but begun his work.” But the glories hidden within the Sanctuary were not for the gaze of Gentiles. Around the whole of the edifice ran a low marble balustrade--the “middle wall of partition”--whose dwarf pilasters bore inscriptions in Greek and Latin, forbidding the alien to proceed further on pain of death. Here and there, as Crispus could see, half-concealed in the shadows of the temple-wall, stood the dusky forms of sentinels, who, though to all appearances inert, were nevertheless keeping a jealous watch upon the two Romans. The floor of the Sanctuary was not upon the same level as the floor of the Court of the Gentiles, but stood at an altitude of twenty-two feet above it, upon the summit of a solid platform of masonry. This elevation was ascended by a stately flight of stairs leading up to a magnificent pylon, whose twofold gate was richly plated with Corinthian bronze, a composite metal, more esteemed in that age than silver or gold. “The Eastern or Corinthian Gate,” remarked Rufus. Though access to the temple was forbidden to the Romans, there was not wanting even upon its very forefront the sign of the Roman dominion. Over this gateway was the golden image of an eagle with extended wings, a surprising sight in view of the Jewish hatred of sculpture. “Placed there by Herod the Great out of compliment to Augustus, and though many a fiery Zealot has climbed up there with intent to hew it down, our procurators have determined to keep it there.” Having taken as close a view of the edifice as was permissible, Crispus drew back to contemplate it from a distance.