There was so much challenge in his manner that Julian accepted it. He
reached into his tunic and drew forth a pair of dice.
"We will play for her," he said.
The Maccabee put the tesserae aside.
"We will not use them," he said. "I know them to be cogged. Let us
have the judgment of a coin."
A bronze coin of Agrippa was produced. Julian in getting at his purse
brushed against the sleeping girl and as the pair glanced at her
before they tossed, her large eyes opened full in Julian's face. A
moment, almost breathless for the two, and terror flared up in her
eyes. She started up, but Julian's hand dropped on her.
"Peace, Phryne!" he said.
She shrank from his touch, literally into the arms upon which
Philadelphus rested his weight. She looked up into his eyes, and saw
them soften with a smile, and moved no farther. Philadelphus took the
coin.
"Let Vespasian decide for me," he said.
"For me Fortunatus," said Julian.
Philadelphus filliped the coin and flung out a strong and fending hand
against his fellow covering it. Under the brightening day, the
lowering profile of the old plebeian emperor Vespasian showed
distinctly on the newly minted bronze.
Julian made a sharp menacing sound, and with clenched hands rose on
his knees. But Philadelphus looked at him steadily, half-amused at the
implied threat, half-inviting its fulfilment, and under his gaze,
Julian rose slowly and drew away. Philadelphus tossed the coin after
him. His cousin picked it up and put it in his purse.
[Illustration: Philadelphus looked down upon his prize.] Philadelphus looked down at his prize.
She had not flinched from him when she had found him beside her, with
Julian threatening her. But now her wide open eyes fixed upon his
brimmed with an agony of appeal. Innocent of the world's wickedness,
she could only sense supreme peril in this mysterious game without
understanding the stake. Momus was not in sight--dead for all she
knew--and the desert was an ally against her. Over her, now, bent a
face characteristic of a great spirit, yet one which was coeval with
the times--times of violence and the supremacy of force. His lips were
thin, the contour of his face angular at the jaw, the nose straight
and long, his brows black and low over dark blue eyes of a fathomless
depth, the forehead strongly molded, and marked with deep
perpendicular lines between the eyes. He was dark, heavy-haired,
young, lean, broad and of fine height even as he knelt beside her.
Laodice did not note any of these things. She was only conscious of
the immense power her terror and her helplessness had to combat. Back
of all this iron selfishness, she hoped that somewhere was a
gentleness, even if inert and useless. All her strength was
concentrated in the effort to bring it to life.