The soldiers parted the throng as the wind chases the clouds, and the young Israelite pressed forward with his heavy thyrsus fought and pushed his way so valiantly and resolutely through the panic-stricken mob, that he reached the door of his father’s house but a few moments later than the soldiers. The lictors battered at the door and as no one opened it, they forced it with the help of the soldiers in order to set a guard in the beleaguered house, and protect it against the raging mob. Verus and the officer entered the Jew’s dwelling with the armed men, and behind them came Benjamin and his friends--young Greeks with whom he was in the habit of consorting daily, in the bath or the gymnasium. Apollodorus and his guests expressed their gratitude to Verus, and when the old Jewish house-keeper, who had seen and heard from a hiding-place under the roof all that had taken place outside her master’s house, came into the men’s hall and gave a full report of the uproar from beginning to end, the praetor was overwhelmed with thanks; and the old woman embroidered her narrative with the most glowing colors. While this was going on Apollodorus’ pretty daughter, Ismene, came in, and after falling on her father’s neck and weeping with agitation the house keeper took her hand and led her to Verus, saying: “This noble lord--may the blessing of the Most High be on him--staked his life to save us. This beautiful robe he let be rent for our sakes, and every daughter of Israel should fervently kiss this torn chiton, which in the eyes of God is more precious than the richest robe--as I do.” And the old woman pressed the praetor’s dress to her lips, and tried to make Ismene do the same; but the praetor would not permit this. “How can I allow my garment,” he exclaimed, laughing, “to enjoy a favor of which I should deem myself worthy--to be touched by such lips.” “Kiss him, kiss him!” cried the old woman, and the praetor took the head of the blushing girl in his hands, and pressing his lips to her forehead with a by no means paternal air, he said gaily: “Now I am richly rewarded for all I have been so happy as to do for you, Apollodorus.” “And we,” exclaimed Gamaliel. “We--myself and my brother’s first-born son-leave it in the hands of God Most High to reward you for what you have done for us.” “Who are you?” asked Verus, who was filled with admiration for the prophet-like aspect of the venerable old man and the pale intellectual head of his nephew. Apollodorus took upon himself to explain to him how far the Rabbi transcended all his fellow Hebrews in knowledge of the law and the interpretation of the Kabbala, the oral and mystical traditions of their people, and how that Simeon Ben Jochai was superior to all the astrologers of his time. He spoke of the young man’s much admired work on the subject called Sohar, nor did he omit to mention that Gamaliel’s nephew was able to foretell the positions of the stars even on future nights.