Chapter 22 - Page 2

mercy. He struggled, cursing,
but they bore him down, binding him hand and knee to an open litter, so
he stood, like a beast, upon all fours, for such, indeed, was the order
of the king. Then they put on him the skin of a wild ass and carried
him up and down, jeering as the long ears flapped. Vergilius,
returning, removed the skin of the ass and loosed the fetters a little,
and forbade the soldiers any further revenge.

"The skin of a leopard would become you better," said Vergilius to
Antipater, as he unlashed the coat of shame.

The wrathful Jew, still cursing, tried to bite the friendly hand of his
keeper. "My noble prince," said Vergilius, "you flatter me; I am not
good to eat."

Those crowding near laughed loudly, but Vergilius hushed them and
signalled to the trumpeter. Then a call and a rush of horses into
line. The litter was lifted quickly and lashed upon the backs of two
chargers. In a little time the cohort was on its way to Jerusalem.

Arriving, it massed in front of the royal palace. Vergilius repaired
to the king's chamber. The body of Herod was now become as an old
house, its timbers sagging to their fall, its tenant trembling at dim
windows while the storm beat upon it. Shame and sorrow and remorse
were racking him down. King and kingdom were now swiftly changing.

"At last!" he piped, with quivering hands uplifted. "Slow-footed
justice! come--come close to me."

Eagerly he grasped the hands of the young Roman and kissed them. Then
he spoke with bitter irony, his words coming fast. "You met the great
king?"

"Yes, good sire."

"You put him in chains and brought him hither?"

"And I commend him to your mercy."

"Ha, ha!" the king shrieked, caressing the hand of the Roman. Now his
head rose, and for a little his old vigor and menacing voice returned
to him. "He has run me through with the blade of remorse and put upon
me the chains of infirmity," he complained, an ominous, croaking rattle
in his throat. "To-day, to-day, my wrath shall descend upon him and my
gratitude upon you! These forty years have I been seeking a man of
honor. At last, at last, here is the greatest of men! I, Herod,
surnamed the Great, king of Judea, conqueror of hosts, builder of
cities, bare my head before you!"

He removed his jewelled crown; he drew off his purple tarboosh, and
bowed before the young tribune. Tenderly Vergilius replaced them on
the gray head.

"O king," said he, bowing low, "you do me great honor."

Herod closed his eyes and muttered feebly. Again remorse and age had
flung their weight upon him. His