“Good, most noble Saturius, and for both our sakes—­remember that the palace floor is slippery, and do not get another fall, for it might finish you.”

“I am in deep waters, but I think that I can swim well,” reflected Caleb as the door closed behind his visitor.  “At any rate it gives me a chance who have no other, and that prince is playing for revenge, not love.  What can Miriam be to him beyond the fancy of an hour, of which a thief has robbed him?  Doubtless he wishes to kill the thief, but kings do not care for faded roses, which are only good enough to weave the chaplet of a merchant of Alexandria.  So I cast for the last time, let the dice fall as it is fated.”

Very shortly afterwards in the palace of Domitian the dice began to fall.  Humbly, most humbly, did that faithful chamberlain, Saturius, lay the results of his mission before his august master, Domitian, who suffering from a severe bilious attack that had turned his ruddy complexion to a dingy yellow, and made the aspect of his pale eyes more unpleasant than usual, was propped up among cushions, sniffing attar of roses and dabbing vinegar water upon his forehead.

He listened indifferently to the tale of his jackal, until the full meaning of the terms asked by the mysterious Eastern merchant penetrated his sodden brain.

“Why,” he said, “the man wants Pearl-Maiden; that’s his share, while mine is the life of the fellow who bought her, whoever he may be.  Are you still mad, man, that you should dare to lay such a proposal before me?  Don’t you understand that I need both the woman and the blood of him who dared to cheat me out of her?”

“Most divine prince, I understand perfectly, but this fish is only biting; he must be tempted or he will tell nothing.”

“Why not bring him here and torture him?”

“I have thought of that, but those Jews are so obstinate.  While you were twisting the truth out of him the other man would escape with the girl.  Much better promise everything he asks and then——­”

“And then—­what?”

“And then forget your promises.  What can be simpler?”

“But he needs them in writing.”

“Let him have them in writing, my writing, which your divine self can repudiate.  Only the pardon to Caleb, who I suppose is this Demetrius himself, can be signed by Titus.  It will not affect you whether a Jew more or less has the right to trade in the Empire, if thereby you can win his services in an important matter.  Then, when the time comes, you can net both your unknown rival and the lady, leaving our friend Demetrius to report the facts to her relatives in Judaea, for whom, as he states, he is alone concerned.”