But the Romans were not to have it all their own way. Many of the Jews, escaping to the streets adjacent to the square, took refuge in the first houses they came to, and having barred the gates, they ascended to the roofs and proceeded to assail the enemy below with tiles and stones. Others who had fled farther afield, procuring weapons or whatever implements might serve as such, retraced their steps, and favored by their knowledge of the narrow and winding streets, ventured to give battle to the Romans, and what is more, contrived for a time to hold them in check. The streets of Zion rang with the clang of arms, and the shouts of the combatants. News of what was happening came quickly to the ears of Berenice, producing in her mind not only consternation, but an agonizing sense of self-reproach. She felt herself to be indirectly the cause of it all. It was Florus’ revenge for her rejection of him. Her first impulse was to fly to the procurator, and appeal to him to stay his hand. Her pride revolted from this step. But, as the sound of the fray grew louder and fiercer, she became more agitated; casting her pride away she resolved to hasten to his tribunal and intercede on behalf of her people. As a royal princess, she deemed herself secure from molestation by the Roman soldiery; but, forgetful of the fact that she was unknown by sight to the majority of them, she ran forth from her palace without a single attendant. Fortunately she was seen by her master of the horse, who, collecting as many of her household troops as he conveniently could at a moment’s notice, went after her with all speed. On coming within sight of the tribunal Berenice paused aghast. Hell itself seemed to be let loose that day. The Jews, captured in the neighboring streets, were being dragged into the square to be ruthlessly slaughtered before the very eyes of Florus. No distinction was made as to age or sex. Even infants, torn from the arms of shrieking mothers, were tossed aloft and caught upon the points of spears. Young girls, tied naked to stakes, were exposed to the brutal jests of the soldiery, who offered their captives liberty if they would but consent to taste a morsel of swine’s flesh. As Berenice, with reeling brain, stepped forward, she caught sight of a group of drunken soldiers, standing around a bright-eyed Jewish boy, whose age could not have exceeded twelve years. “Tell us the name of your God?” exclaimed a soldier. “He is called the Lord,” answered the boy, nothing daunted by the ring of fierce faces around him. “Well, curse the Lord and you shall live,” said a second soldier, menacing the lad with his spear. But the little fellow had been too well drilled in the shibboleths of Judaism to do their bidding. “Cursed be all they that serve graven images,” he replied defiantly. “This wolfling will grow up into a brave wolf,” laughed the first soldier.