the putting away of much wine, even as is
the business of Pilate?"

"Yea. But Tiberius doth have a deputy to satisfy the demands for him."

"And some are as insistent as itch."

"Yea, like the broad Jew whose foot caught in the blue and purple cloak
he let drag in his desire to be heard."

"His business was urgent by the glittering eagerness of his two small
eyes."

"Yea, and the gold he held forth did glitter better than his Jew eyes
as he said, 'My mission is urgent! One hath arisen against the Empire
yet doth Pontius Pilate not come forth nor give audience to message
bearers.'"

"'He seeth neither god nor man until his business of importance to
Tiberius is finished, since first of all he is Caesar's friend,' did I
make answer, straight-faced and solemn, for who would feel the fire of
the branding iron for a bit of gold? Then it was his countenance
became entangled in anger as his foot became entangled in his blue
cloak, and he did breathe out a curse."

"The curse of a Jew is no curse since it must be swallowed if it is
against Rome. But look thee toward the steps. On my life a messenger
cometh."

While the two soldiers of the Legion were gossiping on the outside of
the door the two guards on the inside were leaning heavily on their
spears.

"My eyes--but sleep pricketh me," the first guard said.

"Sleep then," the second replied. "But no dreaming."

"Nay--no dreaming."

"Listen! Pilate is gone until the new day."

On the stillness the sound of heavy snoring was heard. The guards
leaned against the wall, spears in hand, and were soon asleep. A
trumpet from the street below sounded the hours of night. The snores
of Pilate were answered by the snoring of the two guards and the palace
seemed given to slumber, when the tramp of feet and knocking of
standards was heard outside.

"Methinks I dream," the first guard said drowsily. "Yea, I dream there
is a great commotion."

"It is the troops rushing to war!" the second guard answered sleepily.

"Troops rushing to war." The words were feebly uttered.

The knocking continued at the door, growing quicker and harder.

"Who knocks?" the guard shouted.

"Open thou the door," was shouted back.

"Who cometh?"

"A message from the Tower of Antonio. We would see Pilate," the voice
outside answered.

The door was opened and the messenger with a number of soldiers
entered. "A message for the Procurator, Pontius Pilate."

"My Lord Pilate is