rabble spoil thy reason. No conspirator is this Jew. He is a
teacher of the Truth. Quell thou this uproar and come thou back to
bed. Hearest thou my words?"

"Nay. No words I hear save the words 'He is not Caesar's friend.'
Caesar's friend would I be though all the Jews in Palestine are hung on
wooden crosses. Farewell, Claudia. Thou art the wife of Caesar's
friend."

Pilate turned to go, but Claudia lay hold of him saying, "Nay, my Lord
Pilate, thou shalt not go until my words thou hearest. Forever will
Rome bear the brand of shame should it stretch on a wooden cross one
who teacheth such wisdom as doth this Jew. Thou shalt not go until a
promise is made me."

"What promise?" he asked hurriedly.

"If he come before thy judgment seat, judge him of the words of his own
mouth and by the words of his own mouth free or condemn him."

"I promise, Claudia--I promise."

"Thou understandest that out of the mouth of the Jew thou wilt free or
condemn him?"

"Yea--yea! Let me go! I am a friend of Caesar!" and he loosed himself
and hurried down the long corridor.

CHAPTER XXVIII

ROSES AND IRIS AND TEARS

In full vestments of the Sanhedrin, Joseph of Arimathea stood beside
the moonlit pool in the garden of Lazarus. The hand-washing and
hymn-singing and feasting on roast lamb in bitter sauce, was over for
another twelvemonth. With a glance prophetic, Joseph looked into this
new year and shook his head saying slowly, "The signs are full of
portent. Darkness doth seem to gather over Israel."

"Thy heart hath a burden?" Lazarus asked, coming from the house.

The patriarch lifted his face to the young man. For a moment there was
no answer. The voice of Joseph was grave when he said, "Yea, more than
a burden doth lie on my heart. Fear hath clutched it and while my lips
made merry at the feast I did suffer, knowing the young man's life is
in danger--aye, the life of Jesus. Doth not thy heart feel it? And
the heart of thy sister Mary, doth not her heart suffer the torture of
fear?"

"Perchance it is weariness that Mary suffereth. The feast maketh much
labor."

"As we did sing the Pascal hymn, lo, did the lips of Mary shape a
prayer. Twice did tears, which she did try to hide, drop from her
cheek, and thrice did she choke in the throat. Is this weariness?"

"She was disappointed. The heart of Mary did want the Master by her
side, but it had seemed good to him to eat the Passover with his
dis