cted his straight, sharp look, like a knife, into His calm, darkened
eyes.

"Hail, Master!" he said loudly, charging his words of usual greeting
with a strange and stern meaning.

But Jesus was silent, and the disciples looked at the traitor with
horror, not understanding how the soul of a man could contain so much
evil. Iscariot threw a rapid glance at their confused ranks, noticed
their quiver, which was about to turn into a loud, trembling fear,
noticed their pallor, their senseless smiles, the drowsy movements
of their hands, which seemed as though fettered in iron at the
shoulders--and a mortal sorrow began to burn in his heart, akin to
the sorrow Christ had experienced before. Outstretching himself into a
hundred ringing, sobbing strings, he rushed over to Jesus and kissed
His cold cheek tenderly. He kissed it so softly, so tenderly, with such
painful love and sorrow, that if Jesus had been a flower upon a thin
stalk it would not have shaken from this kiss and would not have dropped
the pearly dew from its pure petals.

"Judas," said Jesus, and with the lightning of His look He illumined
that monstrous heap of shadows which was Iscariot's soul, but he could
not penetrate into the bottomless depth. "Judas! Is it with a kiss you
betray the Son of Man?"

And He saw how that monstrous chaos trembled and stirred. Speechless
and stern, like death in its haughty majesty, stood Judas Iscariot, and
within him a thousand impetuous and fiery voices groaned and roared:

"Yes! We betray Thee with the kiss of love! With the kiss of love we
betray Thee to outrage, to torture, to death! With the voice of love
we call together the hangmen from their dark holes, and we place a
cross--and high over the top of the earth we lift love, crucified by
love upon a cross."

Thus stood Judas, silent and cold, like death, and the shouting and
the noise about Jesus answered the cry of His soul. With the rude
irresoluteness of armed force, with the awkwardness of a vaguely
understood purpose, the soldiers seized Him and dragged Him
off--mistaking their irresoluteness for resistance, their fear for
derision and mockery. Like a flock of frightened lambs, the disciples
stood huddled together, not interfering, yet disturbing everybody, even
themselves. Only a few of them resolved to walk and act separately.
Jostled from all sides, Peter drew out the sword from its sheath with
difficulty, as though he had lost all his strength, and faintly lo