"Lower away the basket with the shekels of silver!"--here shouted a Roman soldier in a hoarse, rough voice, which appeared to issue from the regions of Pluto--"lower away the basket with that accursed coin which it has broken the jaw of a noble Roman to pronounce! Is it thus you evince your gratitude to our master Pompeius, who, in his condescension, has thought fit to listen to your idolatrous importunities? The God Phœbus, who is a true God, has been charioted for an hour--and were you not to have been on the ramparts by sunrise? Ædepol! do you think that we, the conquerors of the world, have nothing better to do than stand waiting by the walls of every kennel, to traffic with the dogs of the earth? Lower away! I say--and see that your trumpery be bright in color, and just in weight!" "El Elohim!"--ejaculated the Pharisee, as the discordant tones of the centurion rattled up the crags of the precipice, and fainted away against the Temple--"El Elohim!--_who_ is the God Phœbus?--_whom_ doth the blasphemer invoke? Thou, Buzi-Ben-Levi! who art read in the laws of the Gentiles, and hast sojourned among them who dabble with the Teraphim!--is it Nergal of whom the idolater speaketh?--or Ashimah?--or Nibhaz?--or Tartak?--or Adramalech?--or Anamalech?--or Succoth-Benoth?--or Dagon?--or Belial?--or Baal-Perith?--or Baal-Peor?--or Baal-Zebub?" "Verily, it is neither--but beware how thou lettest the rope slip too rapidly through thy fingers--for should the wicker-work chance to hang on the projection of {314} yonder crag, there will be a woful outpouring of the holy things of the Sanctuary." * * * * * By the assistance of some rudely-constructed machinery, the heavily-laden basket was now lowered carefully down among the multitude--and, from the giddy pinnacle, the Romans were seen crowding confusedly around it--but, owing to the vast height and the prevalence of a fog, no distinct view of their operations could be obtained. A half-hour had already elapsed. "We shall be too late"--sighed the Pharisee, as, at the expiration of this period, he looked over into the abyss--"we shall be too late--we shall be turned out of office by the Katholim." "No more"--responded Abel-Shittim--"no more shall we feast upon the fat of the land--no longer shall our beards be odorous with frankincense--our loins girded up with fine linen from the Temple." "Raca!"--swore Ben-Levi--"Raca!--do they mean to defraud us of the purchase-money?--or, Holy Moses! are they weighing the shekels of the tabernacle?" "They have given the signal at last"--roared the Pharisee--"they have given the signal at last!--pull away! Abel-Shittim!--and thou, Buzi-Ben-Levi! pull away!--for verily the Philistines have either still hold upon the basket, or the Lord hath softened their hearts to place therein a beast of good weight!" And the Gizbarim pulled away, while their burthen swung heavily upwards through the still increasing mist.