"Stand a moment, son of Varro," said the king, with an impatient gesture. An attendant approached him and spoke in a low tone. Herod, snarled like a huge cat when the lance threatens.
"Break him on the rack," he muttered; "and unless he tell, crucify him—crucify him. He shall do me no further injury. That priest Lugar, bring him back to me. Quickly now, bring him to me!"
The attendant hurried away, soon returning with him who had retired as
Vergilius entered the king's chamber.
"Saw you the men of learning in Ascalon?" the king demanded.
"I did."
"What said they?"
There was a moment of silence.
"Out with it," said the king, fiercely. "Must I put every man upon the rack? Speak, and that you may tell the truth I shall not demand their names."
"They, also, look for the new king," said Lugar. "Many believe he is already born. They say that on your death he will declare himself."
"And they, too, pray for my death?"