The bravery exhibited by Crispus throughout the siege of the Prætorium had created in Eleazar a feeling, not of admiration, but of rage; and this rage was now enhanced by the serene and fearless bearing of the captive. Drawing his sword he walked over to Crispus. “Cursed polytheist, what is the name of your chief god?” “He is called Jupiter.” “Then curse the name of Jupiter, if you would save your soul alive.” Eleazar’s sneering and insulting menace drove Crispus to a foolish, yet heroic, defiance. “Men,” said he, turning to the Romans behind him, “the end has come. Let us die bravely.” Then, raising his hand aloft to heaven, he cried, “Sovereign Jupiter, all hail!” “Swine that thou art!” exclaimed Eleazar; and, grinding his teeth with rage, he plunged his sword to the very hilt into the side of Crispus, who sank to the ground as one dead. Quickened by Eleazar’s example, the Levites and Zealots began a massacre of the defenseless captives. But Crispus’ words had not been without effect upon the Romans. How bravely they died let that historian say who was contemporary with the event. “They neither defended themselves, nor asked for mercy, but only reproached their slayers for breaking their oath and the articles of capitulation. And thus were all these men barbarously murdered, all excepting”--alas! that it should be written of a Roman!--“all excepting Metilius; for when he entreated for mercy and promised that he would turn proselyte and be circumcized, they saved him alive, but none else.” * * * * * Thus was Roman rule extinguished in Jerusalem in the year 66 A.D., a little more than a century after its capture by the great Pompey. On that same Sabbath, the high priest Matthias, in view of the great triumph, decreed that the evening sacrifice should partake of a thanksgiving character; and that, to enhance the dignity of the occasion, the water used in the service should be taken, not from the ordinary draw-well in the southern court of the sanctuary, but from the hallowed Pool of Siloam outside the city wall. But the Levitical train dispatched on that errand returned with dismayed faces and empty urns. Siloam would take no part in the wicked thanksgiving. _Its waters had ceased flowing!_[17] CHAPTER XIII A GOOD SAMARITAN “He is opening his eyes! _He lives!_” So spoke Vashti as she knelt beside the silent and recumbent form of Crispus. The unmistakable rapture in her tone seemed to displease the woman standing beside her. “Why should you be glad, child? He is an enemy to our race.” “Mother!” said the girl, reproachfully. “Did he not save me from scourging?” “Is that any reason why we should imperil our lives on his account? We shall be stoned to death if the Zealots learn that we are hiding a Roman in our house. Better for us that he were dead.” “O, mother, hush! lest he should hear your unkind words.”