is bosom with his nails and gnawing his shoulders. Then suddenly he
ceased weeping and gnawing and gnashing his teeth, and fell into a
sombre reverie, inclining his tear-stained face to one side in the
attitude of one listening. And so he remained for a long time, doleful,
determined, from every one apart, like fate itself.

. . . . . . . .

Judas surrounded the unhappy Jesus, during those last days of His short
life, with quiet love and tender care and caresses. Bashful and timid
like a maid in her first love, strangely sensitive and discerning, he
divined the minutest unspoken wishes of Jesus, penetrating to the hidden
depth of His feelings, His passing fits of sorrow, and distressing
moments of weariness. And wherever Jesus stepped, His foot met something
soft, and whenever He turned His gaze, it encountered something
pleasing. Formerly Judas had not liked Mary Magdalene and the other
women who were near Jesus. He had made rude jests at their expense, and
done them little unkindnesses. But now he became their friend, their
strange, awkward ally. With deep interest he would talk with them of
the charming little idiosyncrasies of Jesus, and persistently asking
the same questions, he would thrust money into their hands, their very
palms--and they brought a box of very precious ointment, which Jesus
liked so much, and anointed His feet. He himself bought for Jesus, after
desperate bargaining, an expensive wine, and then was very angry when
Peter drank nearly all of it up, with the indifference of a person who
looks only to quantity; and in that rocky Jerusalem almost devoid of
trees, flowers, and greenery he somehow managed to obtain young spring
flowers and green grass, and through these same women to give them to
Jesus.

For the first time in his life he would take up little children in
his arms, finding them somewhere about the courts and streets, and
unwillingly kiss them to prevent their crying; and often it would happen
that some swarthy urchin with curly hair and dirty little nose, would
climb up on the knees of the pensive Jesus, and imperiously demand to be
petted. And while they enjoyed themselves together, Judas would walk
up and down at one side like a severe jailor, who had himself, in
springtime, let a butterfly in to a prisoner, and pretends to grumble at
the breach of discipline.

On an evening, when together with the darkness, alarm took post as
sentry by the window, Iscariot would clever