By Deborah's side was a Greek. He was in full uniform of a Captain in the King's service. Judas quickly confronted him. The contrast between the two men was extreme. The Greek was the model for an Apollo, such was his grace of pose and motion. His muscles were full, yet long, exquisitely moulded by the practice of the gymnasium and by the fencer's art. The Jew was a Hercules of gigantic stature; "badly put together," would have been the comment of a gymnasiarch; long arms, legs short, muscles knotted. The Greek was clean-shaven, his locks oiled; the Jew's head covered with reddish hair bleached by exposure. The Greek was handsome, a woman's ideal. The Jew's face, overhung by heavy brows, based in a broad, square chin, and covered with short, untrimmed beard, might have been an unpleasant one, but for the kindly brightness of his eyes, which would have won the confidence of a child.
The Greek made obeisance to the conqueror.
"Judas, son of Mattathias, I, though esteemed a heathen, have made a vow before your God, that, if Jehovah granted you victory in this battle, I would serve Him and you."
"I am not commissioned to receive the service of any but the men of Israel," replied Judas firmly, but with a courtesy that could awaken no resentment.
"Then know that Dion, son of General Agathocles of Macedon, forswears the service of Antioch, and vows loyalty only to the cause of the Jewish people."
Judas glanced at Deborah. "Is this the friend of the house of Elkiah? For thy sweet sake, daughter, it shall be as he wills."
He grasped the hand of Dion.
While this scene was transpiring at the western gate a very different one might have been witnessed at the south gate. The street within was packed with a motley multitude impeding one another's way in their eagerness to escape from the city. Men and women, rich and poor, young and old; some bruising the backs of their neighbors with the chests they carried upon their shoulders; others with their palanquins forcing the crowd asunder, commanding, entreating, shouting imprecations, and crying with hurts, choked the gateway.
"Way! way for the High Priest!" sounded above the din.
A giant Nubian with his gnarled arms threw the people to right and left and opened a passage for Menelaos and Lydia, whose blanched faces peered out from the purple curtains of their vehicle.