"And for thee crucifixion," said Lysias. "Fear not for me. Thou art as I am, and we are one with the jarl and his company."
The place of the procurator's abiding was at hand. It was an ancient palace, which was also a fort, and they who occupied it were of high degree. Of them the two Jews and Lysias might see or know but little, but they had quarters assigned them. In the morning orders came to Lysias only, and he was quickly in the saddle with a message for Cornelius, the centurion. If he found him not at Jerusalem, he was to ride on after him, even to Cæsarea.
"O to be in the procurator's house!" thought Lysias, "for she will be there and I shall see her."
Even as he rode away from the palace gate, however, bright eyes were upon him from a window above and a young girl said in a low, musical voice:
"O Lysias! Lysias! Do I not know that he is in search of me? Woe to him and woe to me if he should find me! What is this which is come? Am I not happy as I am? Surely I do love him. He is very beautiful. He loveth me. But what have I, the favorite of the wife of Pontius, to do with him? What have I to do with a love that I lost so long ago and that is gone? It were but a sharp peril now. If I meet him, I can but tell him that I am no longer his. He is but a swift messenger of the procurator; a fellow to ride horses and to be scourged if he rideth not speedily. I am one to dwell in palaces, wearing gay apparel and jewels and having the favors of the great."
Full of pride was her fair face as she spoke, and in it was a scorn for any who were lowly. To her the apparel of her servitude was more worth than was the love of a youth who had been robbed of his patrimony and whose rank was lost. She sat at the window watching him as he rode away, and she sighed deeply.
"Yes," she said, "I love him, and it is pleasant to love. He is a good horseman. So are all my Roman lovers. What is he compared with a Roman? Even the Jews, if they are rich and of power, are better than a poor Greek boy, fit only for errands."
She arose and walked away, but a mirror was near and she gazed long at her reflection, admiring it greatly.
"I am as beautiful as Aphrodite, they tell me," she said. "I will sacrifice to her this day, and to Juno. There are no gods upon whom Lysias may call for great gifts. He can bring them no rich offerings, while I can have oxen slain before the altar. Aye, and I have had men sent to prison and to the arena if they offended me. I sent that foolish Jew girl to the lions at Jerusalem. I taught her better than to interfere with me."
Her red lips tightened cruelly, and her eyes were terrible and her movements were lithe as those of a young panther as she walked on along a corridor. But Lysias galloping northward was alone upon the highway, and he shouted aloud: