r, Manahem replied, returning from the door. If we do not open,
Jesus said, he will leave our door, and that will be a greater
misfortune than any that he may bring us. Hearken, Saddoc! He speaks
fair enough, Saddoc replied; but we may plead that after sunset in the
times we live in---- But, Manahem, Jesus interjected, say on which side
thou art.... We know there is but one man; and we are more than a match
for one. Put a sword in Saddoc's hand. No! Manahem! for I should seem
like a fool with a sword in my hand. Since thou sayest there is but one
man and we are three, it might be unlucky to turn him from our doors.
May I then open to him? Jesus asked, and he began to unbar the great
door, and a heavy, thick-set man, weary of limb and mind, staggered into
the gallery, and stood looking from one to the other, as if trying to
guess which of the three would be most likely to welcome him. His large
and bowed shoulders made his bald, egg-shaped skull (his turban had
fallen in his flight) seem ridiculously small; it was bald to the ears,
and a thick black beard spread over the face like broom, and nearly to
the eyes; thick black eyebrows shaded eyes so piercing and brilliant
that the three Essenes were already aware that a man of great energy had
come amongst them. He had run up the terraces despite his great
girdlestead and he stood before them like a hunted animal, breathing
hard, looking from one to the other, a red, callous hand scratching in
his shaggy chest, his eyes fixed first on Saddoc and then on Manahem and
lastly on Jesus, whom he seemed to recognise as a friend. May I rest a
little while? If so, give me drink before I sleep, he asked. No food,
but drink. Why do ye not answer? Do ye fear me, mistaking me for a
robber? Or have I wandered among robbers? Where am I? Hark: I am but a
wayfarer and thou'rt a shepherd of the hills, I know thee by thy garb,
thou'lt not refuse me shelter. And Jesus, turning to Saddoc and Manahem,
said: he shall have the mattress I was to sleep upon. Give it to him,
Manahem. Thou shalt have food and a coverlet, he said, turning to the
wayfarer. No food! he cried; but a drink of water. There is some ewe's
milk on the shelf, Manahem. Thou must be footsore, he said, giving the
milk to the stranger, who drank it greedily. I'll get thee a linen
garment so that thou mayst sleep more comfortable; and I'll bathe thy
feet before sleep; sleep will come easier in a fresh garment. But to
whose dwelling ha