"Unpleasant truth always is," Joseph retorted.
One of the tribunes laughed impulsively and Titus looked around at him reproachfully.
"Come, come, Carus," he said.
"Thy pardon, Cæsar," the tribune replied, "but we'll be whipped in this wordy battle. And even a small defeat were an unpropitious sign on this expedition."
"To Hades with your signs! If I am whipped with six hundred back of me, I ought to be! Boy, we have your sheep by conquest; you will have to take them back the same way."
Joseph's face fell.
"I have had them since I was nine years old. I've tended them since they were lambs and their mothers before them. It is like surrendering so many children," he said dejectedly. "In truth I can fight for them even if it be but to lose, and I am bidden not to fight at that."
"By Hector, that is not a Jewish tenet!" Titus exclaimed.
Joseph said nothing. He stood still in the path of the Roman six hundred with his curly head sunk on his breast. There was silence.
"Is it?" Titus demanded uncomfortably.