“That is no answer to my question. The Jews have always had special privileges in this city, and one of them is to refuse worship to every god but their own. Again I ask, has this privilege been recalled by the emperor since yesterday: for yesterday I received a personal letter from him in which he promised to abate nothing from our privileges.”
The Roman made no answer, but conferred with one of his men in a low voice. After a moment’s delay, Alexander continued:
“It is plain that you have no authority from the emperor for this outrage. Have you for it the authority of the governor, or of the prefect of the city? I await your careful reply.”
“We are carrying out the wishes of the representatives of Rome in Alexandria,” said the fellow sullenly.
“And that is no answer to my question. Are we to understand that Avilleus Flaccus, or Urbanus Civicus, undertakes on his own responsibility to set aside the decrees of kings and emperors for four hundred years, those of the reigning emperor included, and has expressly sent you here to-day for this purpose?”
“We did not come here,” said the officer with a face that was fast becoming purple, “to be catechised.”
“You came here,” said Alexander sternly, “to commit an outrage—came as a private venture of yourself and a few mischievous companions, and without authority from your superiors. You deserve heavy punishment, and I hope will get it. Now begone from the sanctuary which you have profaned.”
“Begone!” echoed the elders. “Begone!” shouted and screamed the mob from behind.
“Whatever privileges you cursed Jews may have, they certainly do not belong to these men”—pointing at Cimon and Aleph. “These are no more Jews than I am. And for aught I know the same is true of this woman. We will see”—and he stepped toward Rachel to lift her veil.
“Stand back,” said Aleph sternly, as he placed his hand on the breast of the man and sent him staggering back on his men.