that Judas heard the breathing
of the soldier in front of him, and how, at each breath, a strap creaked
somewhere about his body.

"Yes, it will soon be over! They will understand immediately," thought
Judas, and suddenly something strange, like the dazzling joy of
falling from a giddy height into a blue sparkling abyss, arrested his
heart-beats.

Contemptuously drawing his lips down to his rounded well-shaven chin,
Pilate flung to the crowd the dry, curt words--as one throws bones to a
pack of hungry hounds--thinking to cheat their longing for fresh blood
and living, palpitating flesh:

"You have brought this Man before me as a corrupter of the people, and
behold I have examined Him before you, and I find this Man guiltless of
that of which you accuse Him...."

Judas closed his eyes. He was waiting.

All the people began to shout, to sob, to howl with a thousand voices of
wild beasts and men:

"Put Him to death! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" And as though in
self-mockery, as though wishing in one moment to plumb the very depths
of all possible degradation, madness and shame, the crowd cries out,
sobs, and demands with a thousand voices of wild beasts and men:

"Release unto us Barabbas! But crucify Him! Crucify Him!"

But the Roman had evidently not yet said his last word. Over his proud,
shaven countenance there passed convulsions of disgust and anger.
He understood! He has understood all along! He speaks quietly to his
attendants, but his voice is not heard in the roar of the crowd. What
does he say? Is he ordering them to bring swords, and to smite those
maniacs?

"Bring water."

"Water? What water? What for?"

Ah, lo! he washes his hands. Why does he wash his clean white hands all
adorned with rings? He lifts them and cries angrily to the people, whom
surprise holds in silence:

"I am innocent of the blood of this Just Person. See ye to it."

While the water is still dripping from his fingers on to the marble
pavement, something soft prostrates itself at his feet, and sharp,
burning lips kiss his hand, which he is powerless to withdraw, glue
themselves to it like tentacles, almost bite and draw blood. He looks
down in disgust and fear, and sees a great squirming body, a strangely
twofold face, and two immense eyes so queerly diverse from one another
that, as it were, not one being but a number of them clung to his hands
and feet. He heard a broken, burning whisper:

"O wise and noble... wise and no