Jesus in the heart
of the tumult and pain became my serenity. I was scarce moved by any
thought to save him.

On the other hand, I had gazed on too many wonders of the human in my
wild and varied years to be affected to foolish acts by this particular
wonder. I was all serenity. I had no word to say. I had no judgment to
pass. I knew that things were occurring beyond my comprehension, and
that they must occur.

Still Pilate struggled. The tumult increased. The cry for blood rang
through the court, and all were clamouring for crucifixion. Again Pilate
went back into the judgment hall. His effort at a farce having failed,
he attempted to disclaim jurisdiction. Jesus was not of Jerusalem. He
was a born subject of Antipas, and to Antipas Pilate was for sending
Jesus.

But the uproar was by now communicating itself to the city. Our troops
outside the palace were being swept away in the vast street mob. Rioting
had begun that in the flash of an eye could turn into civil war and
revolution. My own twenty legionaries were close to hand and in
readiness. They loved the fanatic Jews no more than did I, and would
have welcomed my command to clear the court with naked steel.

When Pilate came out again his words for Antipas' jurisdiction could not
be heard, for all the mob was shouting that Pilate was a traitor, that if
he let the fisherman go he was no friend of Tiberius. Close before me,
as I leaned against the wall, a mangy, bearded, long-haired fanatic
sprang up and down unceasingly, and unceasingly chanted: "Tiberius is
emperor; there is no king! Tiberius is emperor; there is no king!" I
lost patience. The man's near noise was an offence. Lurching sidewise,
as if by accident, I ground my foot on his to a terrible crushing. The
fool seemed not to notice. He was too mad to be aware of the pain, and
he continued to chant: "Tiberius is emperor; there is no king!"

I saw Pilate hesitate. Pilate, the Roman governor, for the moment was
Pilate the man, with a man's anger against the miserable creatures
clamouring for the blood of so sweet and simple, brave and good a spirit
as this Jesus.

I saw Pilate hesitate. His gaze roved to me, as if he were about to
signal to me to let loose; and I half-started forward, releasing the
mangled foot under my foot. I was for leaping to complete that
half-formed wish of Pilate and to sweep away in blood and cleanse the
court of the wretched scum that howled in it.