“That last is in the nature of a threat!” exclaimed Florus fiercely. “Yours is just the sort of speech one would expect from a man who has plotted against the life of a Roman citizen,” he continued, with a fine forgetfulness of his own delinquencies. “Disorders more grave will undoubtedly ensue, if the guilty are allowed to walk unpunished. Say without periphrases whether you will, or will not, give up these malefactors.” Ananias hesitated, but Johanan ben Zacchai was bolder than the ex-high priest. “We cannot,” said he, “consent to give up these youths.” At this there came a shout of approval from the people assembled before the tribunal. Florus glared at them for a moment, and then resumed: “And yet refuse to make a grant to Cæsar of seventeen talents from the Corban?” “Shall man rob God?” exclaimed Eleazar, fiercely. “This, too, we will not do.” Again a shout of applause, this time louder, from the populace. Florus accepted it for what it was meant, defiance of himself. Turning to the troops in his rear, he cried: “Put these rebels to the rout. Plunder the Upper Market. Slay all who oppose.” Plunder! What more agreeable order for the soldier? They required no second bidding. Like tigers suddenly let loose they raced across the bema, sweeping the helpless Sanhedrim aside, and drawing their trenchant broadswords they precipitated themselves upon the defenseless people, striking out right and left, and using not the flat of the blade, but the point and edge. It was all the work of a moment. Taken completely by surprise, and without arms to defend themselves, the front ranks, hideously gashed, sank moaning to the ground. The rest of the crowd, aghast at the sight, and suddenly realizing that a massacre was intended, strove to avoid the Roman blades. But for those nearest the bema flight was impossible owing to the density of the throng. Then began a horrible struggle for life; he who fell in that crowd never rose again, but was trampled to death, trampled out of all recognition; moved by the instinct of self-preservation everyone strove to thrust his body forward betwixt his neighbors, or failing this, tried to drag his fellow back in the attempt to interpose something between himself and the terrible swords that were steadily coming on from behind. With the flight of those farthest from the bema, the mass became gradually loosened, and finally breaking into detached groups, fled in all directions, pursued by the shouting and triumphant legionaries.