Miriam watched till
she could bear the sight no longer. The glare blinded her, the heat of
the incandescent furnace shrivelled her up, her white dress scorched and
turned brown. She crouched behind the shelter of her pinnacle gasping
for breath. She prayed that she might die, and could not. Now she
remembered the drink that remained in the leathern bottle, and swallowed
it to the last drop. Then she crouched down again against the pillar,
and lying thus her senses left her.
When they came back it was daylight, and from the heap of ashes that
had been the Temple of Herod and the most glorious building in the whole
world, rose a thick cloud of black smoke, pierced here and there by
little angry tongues of fire. The Court of Israel was strewn so thick
with dead that in places the soldiers walked on them as on a carpet,
or to be rid of them, hurled them into the smouldering ruins. Upon the
altar that stood on the Rock of Sacrifice a strange sight was to be
seen, for set up there was an object like the shaft of a lance wreathed
with what seemed to be twining snakes and surmounted by a globe on which
she stood a golden eagle with outspread wings. Gathered in front of it
were a vast number of legionaries who did obeisance to this object.
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