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.

They were offering worship to the Roman standards upon the ancient altar of the God of Israel! Presently a figure rode before them attended by a glittering staff of officers, to be greeted with a mighty shout of "Titus _Imperator_! Titus _Imperator_!" Here on the sense of his triumph his victorious legions named their general Caesar.
Nor was the fighting altogether ended, for on the roofs of some of the burning cloisters were gathered a few of the most desperate of the survivors of the Jews, who, as the cloisters crumbled beneath them, retreated slowly towards the Gate Nicanor, which still stood unharmed.
The Romans, weary with slaughter, called to them to come down and surrender, but they would not, and Miriam watching them, to her horror saw that one of these men was none other than her grandfather, Benoni.
As they would not yield, the Romans shot at them with arrows, so that presently every one of them was down except Benoni, whom no dart seemed to touch.
"Cease shooting," cried a voice, "and bring a ladder.

That man is brave and one of the Sanhedrim.

Let him be taken alive." A ladder was brought and reared against the wall near the Gate Nicanor and up it came Romans.