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.
Antipater halted, presently, and tapped with his seal ring on a metal door.