pointed out to each other the necklace about her throat.  Many, too, had heard something of her story, and looked eagerly at the picture of the gate Nicanor blazoned upon her breast.  But the greater part concerned themselves only with her delicate beauty, passing from mouth to mouth the gossip concerning Domitian, his quarrel with the Caesars, and the intention which he had announced of buying this captive at the public sale.  Always it was the same talk; sometimes more brutal and open than others—­that was the only difference.

Once they halted thus in the street of palaces through which they passed near to the Baths of Agrippa.  Here the endless comments began again, but Miriam tried to shut her ears to it and looked about her.  To her left was a noble-looking house built of white marble, but she noticed that its shutters were closed, also that it was undecorated with garlands, and idly wondered why.  Others wondered too, for when they had wearied of discussing her points, she heard one plebeian ask another whose house that was and why it had been shut up upon this festal day.  His fellow answered that he could not remember the owner’s name, but he was a rich noble who had fallen in the Jewish wars, and that the palace was closed because it was not yet certain who was his heir.

At that moment her attention was distracted by a sound of groans and laughter coming from behind.  She looked round to see that the wretched Jewish general, Simon, had sunk fainting to the ground, overcome by the heat, or the terrors of his mind, or by the sufferings which he was forced to endure at the hands of his cruel guards, who flogged him as he walked, for the pleasure of the people.  Now they were beating him to life again with their rods; hence the laughter of the audience and the groans of the victim.  Sick at heart, Miriam turned away from this horrid sight, to hear a tall man, whose back was towards her, but who was clad in the rich robes of an Eastern merchant, asking one of the marshals of the Triumph, in a foreign accent, whether it was true that the captive Pearl-Maiden was to be sold that evening in the auction-mart of the Forum.  The marshal answered yes, such were the orders as regarded her and the other women, since there was no convenient place to house them, and it was thought best to be rid of them and let their masters take them home at once.

“Does she please you, sir?  Are you going to bid?” he added.  “If so, you will find yourself in high company.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” answered the man with a shrug of his shoulders.

Then he vanished into the crowd.

Now, for the first time that day, Miriam’s spirit seemed to fail her.  The weariness of her body, the foul talk, the fouler cruelty, the cold discussion of the sale of human beings to the first-comer as though they were sheep or swine, the fear of her fate that night, pressed upon and overcame her mind, so that she felt inclined, like Simon, the son of Gioras, to sink fainting to the pavement and lie there till the cruel rods beat her to her feet again.  Hope sank low and faith grew dim, while in her heart she wondered vaguely what was the meaning of it all, and why poor men and women were made to suffer thus for the pleasure of other men and women; wondered also what escape there could be for her.