Her long hair had broken loose and fell about her, the cloak she wore was torn, and there were blood and foam upon her lips.

She stood gasping, since speak she could not for breathlessness, supporting herself with one hand upon the side of the chariot and with the other pointing to the bend in the road.

At last a word came, one only.

It was: "Murder!" "She means that she is going to be murdered," said the Prince to me.
"No," she panted, "you--you! The Hebrews.

Go back!" "Turn the horses!" I cried to the charioteer.
He began to obey helped by the two guards, but because of the narrowness of the road and the steepness of the banks this was not easy.