"We must be alone."
Antipas turned around to his stewart. "Begone!" he commanded. When the door had closed behind him, Zador's host with burning eyes whispered, "A plot? Hast thou heard in Rome of a plot against the life of Pilate?"
"Whether plot I know not. But by evil omens is the day marked for him, deadly as the Ides of March."
"Evil omens? From an oracle?"
"From an oracle under the wings of a raven and bat. Came the omen from the entrails of a falcon which, when spread before the oracle, did lift themselves one against the other. Then did they tremble without touch of hand and did wrap themselves in a knot and struggle together until they did burst asunder. And from that which was hidden therein came forth the hind foot of a hare."
"The meaning thereof?" and Antipas waited.
"That which be hidden is no Roman. That which hideth it shall meet death by strangulation. Then shall that which hath been swallowed come forth to run a swift race."
Antipas reflected a moment. His anger was leaving him, but the tips of his teeth were not yet showing.
Zador Ben Amon turned to his cloak and from a wallet took out three leather cases, two of which he opened and placed on the table. The first contained a ring, the second a frontlet. "Of so excellent a nature hath been thy entertainment," said the Jew, "thou makest me to forget my gifts," and taking up the frontlet he handed it to Antipas. "This is a gift for the High Priest. Look thou at the filigree work around the amethyst, and the hyacinth color of the ribbon."
Antipas took it and Zador noticed that his fingers seemed to stick as he relinquished his hold.