They turned, uneasily,
reflecting that to-morrow they would have their revenge.
Antipater had dined with but a single guest--a young priest, who,
arriving that very day from Damascus, had sought the palace of his
countryman. The service at his table had not pleased the prince.
Leaping from his couch, he struck down a slave and ordered his
crucifixion. It was a luckless Arab, who many times had unwittingly
offended his master.
Now the son of Herod lay asleep where, a little time ago, he had been
feasting. Manius, who had just entered the palace of his friend, came
into the banquet-hall. He touched the arm of Antipater, who started
with a curse and rose with an apology.
"I was dreaming of foes and I see a friend," he muttered. "Forgive me,
noble Manius."
The prince pulled a golden bell-cord that shone against the green
pargeting of the wall.
"Now to our business," he whispered, turning to the officer.
They crossed the atrium, descended a stairway, and threw open a barred
door. They were now in a gloomy passage between walls of marble.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82