Jesus was laid on the couch beneath the arch, and when Mary and Martha had drawn the sheet over his face Joseph turned to the women, saying: now do you go hence to Bethany and prepare spices and cloths for the embalmment, and come hither with them in the early morning the day after the Sabbath. The carrier, who was standing by waiting for his wage, received it thankfully. Now, Master, if you want another shoulder to help with that sealing stone, I can give it you. But Joseph, looking at the stone, said it would offer no trouble to him, for he believed in his strength to do it, though the carrier said: it looks as if two men, or more like three, would be needed. But it is as you like, Master. On this he went to his oxen, thinking of the Sabbath, and whether Joseph had forgotten how near it was to them. He hasn't blown out his lantern yet. My word, he be going back into the tomb, the carrier said; maybe he's forgotten something, or maybe to have a last look at his friend. He talks like one in a dream, or one that hadn't half recovered his wits.

And it was just in the mood which the carrier divined that Joseph entered the tomb: life had been coming and going like a dream ever since he met the masons; and asking himself if he were truly awake and in his seven senses, he returned to bid Jesus a last farewell, though he would not have been astonished if he sought him in vain through the darkness filled with the dust of freshly cut stones and the smell thereof. But Jesus was where they had laid him; and Joseph sate himself by the dead Master's side, so that he might meditate and come to see better into the meanings of things, for all meaning seemed to have gone out of life for him since he had come up from Jericho. The flickering shadows and lights distracted his meditation, and set him thinking of the masons and their pride in their work; he looked round the sepulchre and perceived it to be a small chamber with a couch at the farther end.... Martha and Mary have gone, he said to himself, and he remembered he had bidden them go hence to prepare spices, and to return after the Sabbath. Which they will do as soon as the Sabbath is over, he repeated to himself, as if to convince himself that he was not dreaming.... God did not save him in the end as he expected he would, he continued: he'd have done better to have given Pilate answers whereby Pilate would have been able to save him from the cross. Pilate was anxious to save him, but, as Nicodemus said, Jesus had come to think that it had been decreed in heaven that his blood must be spilt, so that he might rise again, as it were, out of his own blood, to return in a chariot with his Father in three days.... But will he return to inhabit again this beautiful mould? Joseph asked, and striving against the doubt that the sight of the dead put into his mind, he left the tomb with the intention of rolling the stone into the door. Better not to see him than to doubt him, he said. But who will, he asked himself, roll away the stone for Martha and Mary when they come with spices and fine linen for the embalming? His mind was divided whether he should close the tomb and go his way, or watch through the Sabbath, and while seeking to come upon a resolve he was overcome by desire to see his dead friend once more, and he entered the tomb, holding high the lantern so that he might better see him. But as he approached the couch on which the body lay he stopped, and the colour went out of his face; he trembled all over; for the sheet with which Martha and Mary covered over the face had fallen away, and a long tress of hair had dropped across the cheek. He must have moved, or angels must have moved him, and, uncertain whether Jesus was alive or dead, Joseph remembered Lazarus, and stood watching, cold and frightened, waiting for some movement.

He is not dead, he is not dead, he cried, and his joy died, for on the instant Jesus passed again into the darkness of swoon. Joseph had no water to bathe his forehead with, nor even a drop to wet his lips with. There is none nearer than my house, he said. I shall have to carry him thither. But if a wayfarer meets us the news that a man newly risen from the tomb was seen on the hillside with another will soon reach Jerusalem; and the Pharisees will send soldiers.... The tomb will be violated; the houses in the neighbourhood will be searched. Why then did he awaken only to be taken again? Jesus lay as still as the dead, and hope came again to Joseph. On a Sabbath evening, he said, I shall be able to carry him to my house secretly. The distance is about half-a-mile. But to carry a swooning man half-a-mile up a crooked and steep path among rocks will take all my strength.

He took cognisance of his thews and sinews, and feeling them to be strong and like iron, he said: I can do it, and fell to thinking of his servants loitering in the passages, talking as they ascended the stairs, stopping half-way and talking again, and getting to bed slowly, more slowly than ever on this night, the night of all others that he wished them sound asleep in their beds. Half-a-mile up a zigzagging path I shall have to carry him; he may die in my arms; and he entertained the thought for a moment that he might go for his servants, who would bring with them oil and wine; but dismissing the thought as unwise, he left the tomb to see if the darkness were thick enough to shelter himself and his burden.

But Jesus might pass away in his swoon. If he had some water to give him. But he had none, and he sat by the couch waiting for Jesus to open his eyes. At last he opened them.

The twilight had vanished and the stars were coming out, and Joseph said to himself: there will be no moon, only a soft starlight, and he stood gazing at the desert showing through a great tide of blue shadow, the shape of the hills emerging, like the hulls of great ships afloat in a shadowy sea. A dark, close, dusty night, he said, and moonless, deserted by every man and woman; a Sabbath night. On none other would it be possible. But thinking that some hours would have to pass before he dared to enter his gates with Jesus on his shoulder, he seated himself on the great stone. Though Jesus were to die for lack of succour he must wait till his servants were in bed asleep. And then? The stone on which he was sitting must be rolled into the entrance of the tomb before leaving. He had told the carrier that he would have no trouble with it, and to discover that he had not boasted he slid down the rock, and, putting his shoulder to it, found he could move it, for the ground was aslant, and if he were to remove some rubble the stone would itself roll into the entrance of the tomb. But he hadn't known this when he refused the carrier's help. Then why?... To pass away the time he fell to thinking that he had refused the carrier's aid because of some thought of which he wasn't very conscious at the time; that he had been appointed watcher, and that his watch extended through the night, and through the next day and night, until Mary and Martha came with spices and linen cloths.

The cycle of his thoughts was brought to a close and with a sudden jerk by some memory of his maybe dying friend; and in his grief he found no better solace than to gaze at the stars, now thickly sown in the sky, and to attempt to decipher their conjunctions and oppositions, trying to pick out a prophecy in heaven of what was happening on earth.

His star-gazing was interrupted suddenly by a bark. A jackal, he said. Other jackals answered the first bark; the hillside seemed to be filled with them; but, however numerous, he could scare them away; a wandering hyena scenting a dead body would be more dangerous, for he was weaponless. But it was seldom that one ventured into the environs of the city; and he listened to the jackals, and they kept him awake till something in the air told him the hour had come for him to go into the tomb and carry Jesus out of it ... if he were not dead. He slid down from the rock again, and no sooner did he reach the ground than he remembered having left Galilee to keep his promise to his father; but, despite his obedience to his father's will, had not escaped his fate. In vain he avoided the Temple and refused to enter the house of Simon the Leper.... If he were to take Jesus to his house and hide him he would become a party to Jesus' crime, and were Jesus discovered in his house the angry Pharisees would demand their death from Pilate. If he would escape the doom of the cross he must roll the stone up into the entrance of the sepulchre.... A dying man perceives no difference between a sepulchre and a dwelling-house. He would be dead before morning; before the Sabbath was done for certain; and Mary and Martha would begin the embalmment on Sunday. He would be dead certainly on Sunday morning, and dead men tell no tales, so they say. But do they say truly? The dead are voiceless, but they speak, and are closer to us than the living; and for ever the spectre of that man would be by him, making frightful every hour of his life. Yet by closing up the sepulchre and leaving Jesus to die in it he would be serving him better than by carrying him to his house and bringing him back to life. To what life was he bringing him? He could not be kept hidden for long; he could not remain in Jerusalem, and whither Jesus went Joseph would follow, and his bond to his father would be broken then in spirit as well as in fact. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and for a long time his mind seemed like a broken thing and the pieces scattered; and as much exhausted as if he had carried Jesus a mile on his shoulders, he stooped forward and entered the tomb, without certain knowledge whether he was going to kiss Jesus and close the tomb upon him or carry him to his house about a half-an-hour distant.

As he drew the cere-cloths from the body, a vision of his house rose up in his mind—a large two-storeyed house with a domed roof, situated on a large vineyard on the eastern slopes of the Mount of Olives, screened from the highway by hedges of carob, olive garths and cedars. And this house seemed to Joseph as if designed by Providence for the concealment of Jesus. The only way, he muttered, will be to lift him upon my shoulders, getting the weight as far as I can from off my arms. If he could walk a little supported on my arm. He questioned Jesus, but Jesus could not answer him; and there seemed to be no other way but to carry him in his arms out of the tomb, place him on the rock, and from thence hoist him on to his shoulders.

Jesus was carried more easily than he thought for, as easily carried as a child for the first hundred yards, nor did he weigh much heavier for the next, but before three hundred yards were over Joseph began to look round for a rock against which he might rest his burden.

One of the hardships of this journey was that howsoever he held Jesus he seemed to cause him great pain, and he guessed by the feel that the body was wounded in many places; but the stars did not show sufficient light for him to see where not to grasp it, and he sat in the pathway, resting Jesus across his knees, thinking of a large rock within sight of his own gates and how he would lean Jesus against it, if he managed to carry him so far. He stopped at sight of something, something seemed to slink through the pale, diffused shadows in and out of the rocks up the hillside, and Joseph thought of a midnight wolf. The wolves did not venture as near the city, but—Whatever Joseph saw with his eyes, or fancied he saw, did not appear again, and he picked up his load, thinking of the hopeless struggle it would be between him and a grey wolf burdened as he was. He could not do else than leave Jesus to be eaten, and his fear of wolf and hyena so exhausted him that he nearly toppled at the next halt. A fall would be fatal to Jesus, and Joseph asked himself how he would lift Jesus on to his shoulder again. He did not think that he could manage it, but he did, and staggered to the gates; but no sooner had he laid his burden down than he remembered that he could not ascend the stairs without noise. The gardener's cottage is empty; I will carry him thither. The very place, Joseph said, as he paused for breath by the gate-post. I must send away the two men-servants, he continued, one to Galilee and the other to Jericho. The truth cannot be kept from Esora. I need her help: I can depend upon her to cure Jesus of his wounds and keep the young girl in the house, forbidding her the garden while Jesus is in the cottage. The danger of dismissal would be too great, she would carry the story or part of it to Jerusalem, it would spread like oil, and in a few days, in a few weeks certainly, the Pharisees would be sending their agents to search the house. With Jesus hoisted on to his shoulder he followed the path through the trees round the shelving lawn and crossed the terrace at the bottom of the garden. He had then to follow a twisting path through a little wood, and he feared to bump Jesus against the trees. The path led down into a dell, and he could hardly bear up so steep was the ascent; his breath and strength were gone when he came to the cottage door.

Fortune seems to be with us, he said, as he carried Jesus through the doorway, but he must have a bed, and fortune is still with us, they haven't removed the bed; and as soon as Jesus was laid upon it he began to remember many things. He must go to the house and get a lamp, and in the house he remembered that he must bring some wine and some water. He noticed that his hand and his sleeve were stained with blood. He must have been badly scourged, he said, and continued his search for bottles, and after mixing wine and water he returned to the gardener's cottage, hoping that casual ministrations would relieve Jesus of some of the pain he was suffering till Esora would come with her more serious remedies in the morning.

He put the lamp on a chair on the opposite side of the bed and turned Jesus over and began to pick out of the wounds the splinters of the rods he had been beaten with, and after binding up the back with a linen cloth he drew Jesus' head forward and managed to get him to swallow a little wine and water. I can do no more, he said, and must leave him.... It will be better to lock the door; he must bide there till I hear Esora on the stairs coming down from her room. She is always out of bed first, and if luck is still with us she will rise early this morning.

He tried to check his thoughts, but they ran on till he remembered that he must fetch the lantern forgotten among the rocks, and that he should follow the twisting path up and down the hillside seemed more than he could accomplish. Strength and will seemed to have departed from him; yet he must go back to fetch the lantern. He had left it lighted, and some curious person might be led by the light ... the open sepulchre would attract his eye, and he might take up the light and discover the tomb to be empty. It wasn't likely, but some such curious one might be on the prowl. Now was the only safe time to fetch the lantern. He daren't leave it.... At the first light Mary and Martha would be at the sepulchre, and the finding of a lantern by the door of the empty sepulchre would give rise to—

He passed through his gates, locking them after him, too weary to think further what might and might not befall.



CHAP. XIX.

And when he returned with the lantern he had forgotten he threw himself on his bed, remembering that he must not sleep, for to miss Esora as she came downstairs would mean to leave Jesus in pain longer than he need be left. But sleep closed his eyelids. Sleep! He did not know if he had slept. The room was still quite dark, and Esora did not come down till dawn; and, sitting up in his bed, he said: God saved him from death, or raised him out of death, but he has not raised him yet into heaven. He is in the gardener's cottage! If only Esora can cure him of his wounds, he continued, he and I might live together in this garden happily.

He closed his eyes so that he might enjoy his dream of Jesus' companionship, but fell into a deeper sleep, from which he was awakened by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. It is Esora trying to descend without awakening me, he said. But nobody was on the stairs, and he stood listening on the landing, asking himself if Esora was at work so early. And then it seemed to him that he could hear somebody in her pantry.... To make sure he descended and found her before her table brushing the clothes he had thrown off. You must have been in my room and picked up my clothes without my hearing you, he said; it was not till you were on the second flight of stairs that I awoke. I didn't know that you rose so early, Esora. It is still dusk. And if I didn't, Master, I don't know how the work would get done. But the Sabbath, Joseph rejoined; and incontinently began to discuss the observances of the Sabbath with her. But even on the Sabbath there is work to be done, she answered; your clothes—a nice state you brought them home in, and if they were not cleaned for you, you could not present yourself in the synagogue to-day. But, Esora, Joseph answered faintly, I don't see why you should be up and at work at this hour and that girl, Matred, still asleep. Does she never help you in your work? Esora muttered something that Joseph did not hear, and in answer to his question why she did not rouse Matred from her bed she said that the young require more sleep than the old; an answer that surprised Joseph, for he had never been able to rid himself of his first impression of Esora. He remembered when he was a child how he hated her long nose, her long yellow neck and her doleful voice always crying out against somebody, her son, her kitchen-maid, or Joseph himself. She used to turn him out of her kitchen and larder and dairy, saying that his place was upstairs, and once raised her hand to him; later she had complained to his father of his thefts; for he brought his dogs with him and stole the larder key and cut off pieces of meat for them, and very often dipped jars into the pans of milk that were standing for cream. His father reproved him, and from that day he hated Esora, casting names at her, and playing many pranks upon her until the day he tipped a kettle of boiling water over his foot while running to scald the wasps in their nest—one of the apes was stung; it was to avenge the sting he was running, and no one had known how to relieve his suffering; his father had gone away for the doctor, but Esora, as soon as she heard what had happened, came with her balsam, and it subdued the pain almost miraculously.

After his scalding Joseph brought all his troubles to her to be cured, confiding to her care coughs, colds, and cut fingers; and, as she never failed to relieve his pain, whatever it was, he began to look upon her with respect and admiration. All the same something of his original dislike remained. He disliked her while he admired her, and his suspicion was that she loved him more for his father's sake than for his own—— It was his father who sent her from Galilee to look after him. There was no fault to find with her management, but he could not rid his mind of the belief that she was a hard task-mistress, and often fell to pitying the servants under her supervision, yet here she was up at five while Matred lay drowsing. This testimony of her kind heart was agreeable to him, for he had need of all her kindness and sympathy that morning—only with her help could Jesus be cured of his wounds and the story of his escape from the cross he kept a secret. He was in her hands, and, confident of her loyalty to him, he told her that he had left his door open because he wished to speak to her before the others were out of bed.

She lifted her face till he saw her dim eyes, perhaps for the first time: but ye haven't been in bed, and there be dust on thy garments, and blood upon thy hands and sleeves. Yes, Esora, my cloak is full of dust, and the blood on my sleeve is that of a man who lies wounded in the gardener's cottage belike to death. But thou canst cure him and wilt keep the secret of his burial if we have to bury him in the garden. It may be that some day I'll tell thee his story, but think now only how thou mayst relieve his suffering. Another time thou shalt hear everything; but now, Esora, understand nobody must know that a man is in the gardener's cottage. It is a matter of life and death for us. I am here to serve you, Master, and it matters not to me what his story may be; but tell how he is wounded; are the wounds the clean wounds of the sword or the torn wounds of rods? If he have been scourged—— A cruel scourging it must have been, Joseph answered. Now, before we go, Esora, understand that I shall send the two men away, one to Galilee and one to Jericho. Better both should go to Jericho, she said. I'd trust neither in Jerusalem. Let them go straight from here as soon as the Sabbath is over, the journey is shorter, and they'll be as well out of the way in one country as in the other. Esora is wiser than I, Joseph thought, and together they shall go to Jericho, and with an important message. But to whom? Not to Gaddi, who might come up to Jerusalem to see me. I'll send a letter to Hazael, the Essene, and after having delivered the message they can remain at the caravanserai in Jericho. Some excuse that will satisfy Gaddi must be discovered, Esora. I shall find one later. Both the men are now in bed, but if for some reason one of them should come down to the gardener's cottage! It isn't likely, Esora answered. Not likely, Joseph replied; but we must guard against anything. If thou knewest the risk! I'll lock the door of the passage leading to their rooms, and I'll do it at once. Give me the keys. She handed him the keys, and, having locked the men in, he returned, saying: the wounded man, whom thou'lt cure, Esora, may be here for a month or more, and till he leaves us thou must watch the girl and see she doesn't stray through the garden. I can manage her, Esora answered. But now about the poor man who is waiting for attendance in the gardener's cottage. What have ye done for him, Master? I picked from his back the splinters I could see by the light of the lamp, and gave him some wine and water, and laid him on a linen cloth. The old woman muttered that the drawing of the cloth from the wound would be very painful. I dare say it will, Joseph returned, but I knew not what else to do, and it seemed to relieve him. Can you help him, Esora? Yes, I can; and she began telling him of her own famous balsam, the secret of which was imparted to her by her mother, who had it from her mother; and her great-grandmother learnt it from an Arabian. But knowledge of the balsam went back to the Queen of Sheba, who brought the plant to King Solomon. Thou must have seen the bush in the garden in Galilee. It throws a white flower, like the acacia, and the juice when drawn passes through many colours, honey colour and then green. The Egyptians use it for many sicknesses, and it heals wounds magically. The sweet liquor pours from cuts in the branches, and care must be taken not to wound them too sorely. This plant fears the sword, for it heals sword wounds, so the cuts in the tree are best made with a sharp flint or shell, these being holier than steel. If thou hast missed the bush in Magdala, Master, thou must have seen it in Jericho, for I brought some seeds from Galilee to Jericho and planted them by the gardener's cottage. Esora, all that thou tellest me about the balsam is marvellous. I could listen to thee for hours, and thou'lt tell me about thy grandmother and the Arabian who taught her how to gather the juice of the plant, but we must be thinking now of my friend's agony. Hast any of thy balsam ready, or must thou go to Jericho for the juice?—you draw the juice from the tree? No, Master, Esora answered him, I have here in my press a jar of the balsam, and, going to her press, she held the jar to Joseph, who saw a white, milky liquid, and after smelling and liking its sweet smell he said: let us go at once. But thou mustn't hurry me, Master; I'm collecting bandages of fine linen and getting this kettle of water to boil; for this I learnt from a man who learnt it from the best surgeons in Rome: that freshly boiled water holds no more the humours that make wounds fructify, and if boiled long enough the humours fall to the bottom. I strain them off, and let the water cool. Thou mustn't hurry me; what I do, I do well, and at my own pace; and I'll not touch a wound with unclean things. Now I'll get some oil. Some hold Denbalassa is best mixed with oil, but I pour oil upon the balm after I have laid it on the wound, and by this means it will stick less when it is removed. But is thy friend a patient man? Wounds from scourging heal slowly; the flesh is bruised and many humours must come away; wounds from rods are not like the clean cut of a sword, which will heal under the balm when the edges have been brought together carefully, so that no man can find the place. This balm will cure all kinds of coughs, and will disperse bile as many a time I have found. Some will wash a wound with wine and water, but I hold it heats the blood about the wound and so increases the making of fresh humours. Now, Master, take up the pot of water and see that ye hold it steady. I'll carry the basket containing the oil and the balm.... It was the Queen of Sheba who first made the balm known, because she gave it to Solomon. But we must keep the flies from him; and while I'm getting these things go to him and take with thee a fine linen cloth; thou'lt find some pieces in that cupboard, and a hammer and some nails. I'm thinking there are few flies in the gardener's cottage, half of it being underground; but hasten and nail up the linen cloth over the window, for the first sun ray will awaken any that are in the cottage, and, if there aren't any, flies will come streaming in from the garden as soon as the light comes, following the scent of blood. No, not there, a little to the right, he heard her crying, and, finding a piece of linen and a hammer and some nails, he went out into the greyness still undisturbed by the chirrup of a half-awakened bird.

On either side of the shelving lawn or interspace were woods, the remains of an ancient forest that had once covered this hillside; paths wound sinuously through the woods, and, taking the one he had followed overnight, he passed under sycamore boughs, through some woodland to the terrace that he had crossed last night with a naked man on his shoulders. And he remembered how hard it had been to keep to the path overnight, and how fortunate it was that the gardener's cottage was not locked, for if he had had to lay Jesus down he would never have been able to lift him up again on to his shoulder. He had done all he could to relieve his suffering. But Jesus, he said to himself, is lying in agony, and if he has regained consciousness he may believe himself buried alive. I must hasten. Yet when he arrived at the cottage he did not enter it at once, but stood outside listening to the moans of the wounded man within, which were good to hear in this much that they were an assurance that he was still alive. At last he pushed the door open and found Jesus moving his head from side to side, unable to rid himself of a fly that was crawling about his mouth. Joseph drove it away and gave Jesus some more weak wine and water, which seemed to soothe him, and feeling he could do no more he sat down by the bedside to wait for Esora. A few minutes after he heard her steps and she came into the cottage with balsam and bandages in a basket, divining before any examination Jesus' state. He is in a bad way; you've given him wine and water, but he'll need something stronger, and, taking a bottle from her basket, she lifted Jesus' head so that he might drink from it. It will help him to bear the pain of the dressing, she said. Now, Master, will you roll him over on to his side, so that I may see his back. The pain, she said, looking up, when we remove this cloth on which you have laid him will almost kill him, but we must get it off. The water with which I'll cleanse the wound, you'll find it in that basket: it is cool enough now to use. Take him by the wrists and pull him forward, keeping him in a sitting position. Which Joseph did, Esora washing his back the while and removing the splinters that Joseph missed overnight. And, taking pleasure in her ministrations, she steeped a piece of linen in the balm, and over the medicated linen laid a linen pad, rolling a bandage round the chest; and the skill with which she wound it surprised Joseph and persuaded him that the worst was over and there was no cause for further fear, a confidence Esora did not share. He'll rest easier, she said, and will suffer no pain at the next dressing; for the oil will prevent the balm from sticking. We can roll him on his back now, and without asking any question she dressed his hands and feet.

Joseph thanked her inwardly for her reticence, and he nailed up the fine linen cloth before the window, saying: now he is secure from the flies. But one or two have got in already, Esora answered, and one or two will trouble the sick man as much as a hundred. We can't leave him alone; one of us must watch by his side; for he is still delirious and knows not yet what has befallen him nor where he is. If he were to return to clear reason and find the door locked he might lose his reason for good and all, and if we left the door open he might run out into the garden. It isn't safe to leave him.

And perceiving all she said to be sound sense, Joseph took counsel with her, and his resolve was that the two men-servants should remain in their house till the sunset That I should send them away to Jericho on my own horses will surprise them, he said to himself, but that can't be altered. A long, weary day lies before us, Esora, and we shall have to take it in turns, and neither can be away for more than two hours at a time from the house. Matred will be asking for instructions whether she is to feed the poultry or to kill a chicken. Though it be the Sabbath, she'll find reasons to be about because we would have her indoors. And when I'm watching by the sick man, Esora returned, she'll be asking: where, Master, is Esora? Thou'lt have to invent excuses. We've forgotten the servants, Esora. Give me the key. I must run with it and unlock the door of the passage. Do you wait here till I return.

He hoped to find his servants asleep, and his hopes were fulfilled; and after rousing them with vigorous reproof for their laziness, he descended the stairs, thinking of the letter he would devise for them to carry to Jericho. These men, Sarea and Asiel, were his peril. Once they were away on their journey to Jericho he would feel easier. But all these hours I shall suffer, he said. But, Master, they know the cottage to be empty. One never can think, my good Esora, whither idle men will be wandering, and the risk is great. Having gone so far we must have courage, Esora answered. Now give me the key, and I'll lock myself in with him; we'll take it in turns, and the day will not be as long passing as you think for. It is now six o'clock, he answered: twelve hours will have to pass away before the men start for Jericho. And then the night will be before us, replied Esora. I hadn't thought of the night, Joseph answered, and she reminded him that it might be days before his friend, who had been scourged, could recover sufficiently for him to leave. For he won't always remain here, she added. No! no! Joseph replied, and gave her the key of the cottage, and returned to the house to tell Sarea and Asiel that he hoped they would remain indoors during the Sabbath, for he wished them to start for Jericho as soon as the Sabbath was over. They shall ride my horses, he said to himself, and bear letters that will detain them in Jericho for some weeks, and if Jesus be not well enough to leave me, another letter will delay their return. It can be so arranged, with a little luck on our side!

The lantern suddenly flashed into his mind. He had left it on the table in his room and Esora would see it. But why shouldn't she see the lantern? The centurion and the carrier and Martha and Mary all knew that he had brought from Jerusalem a sheet in which to wrap the body of Jesus, and a lantern to light their way into the tomb. It would be in agreement with what he had already said to tell that he brought the lantern back with him, nor would it have mattered if he had not returned to the tomb to fetch the lantern. The lantern would not cast any suspicion upon him. But he had done well to refrain from closing the sepulchre with the stone, for the story of the resurrection would rise out of the empty tomb, and though there were many among the Jews who would not believe the story, few would have the courage to inquire into the truth of a miracle.

A faint smile gathered on his lips, and he began to wonder what the expression would be on the faces of Martha and Mary when they came to him on the morrow with the news that Jesus had risen from the dead.



CHAP. XX.

He said to himself that they would start at dawn, and getting to the sepulchre soon after three, and finding it empty, would come running to him, and, so that himself might open the gate to them, he ordered his watch (it should have ended by midnight) to continue till four o'clock. And, sitting by the sick man's side, he listened expectant for the hush that comes at the end of night. At last it fell upon his ear. The women are on their way to the sepulchre, he said, and in about an hour and a half I'll hear the bell clang. But the bell clanged sooner than he thought for; and so impatient was he to see them that he did not remember to draw his cloak about him as if he were only half dressed (a necessary thing to do if he were to deceive them) till he was in the middle of the garden. But feigning of disordered raiment was vanity, for the women were too troubled to notice that he had not kept them waiting long enough to testify of any sudden rousing from his bed, and began to cry aloud as he approached: he has risen, he has risen from the dead as he promised us. Joseph came towards them yawning, as if his sleep were not yet dispersed sufficiently for him to comprehend them; and he let them through the gate, inviting them into his house; but they cried: he's risen from the dead. The sepulchre is empty, Mary cried, anticipating her sister's words, and we have come to you for counsel. Are we to tell what we have seen? Seen! said Joseph. Forthwith both began to babble about a young man in a white raiment. His counsel to them was neither to spread the news nor to conceal it. Let the apostles, he began—but Martha interrupted him, saying: they are all in hiding, in great fear of the Pharisees, who have power over Pilate, and he will condemn them all to the cross, so they say, if they do not escape at once into Galilee. But since we can vouch that we found the stone rolled away and a young man in white garments in the sepulchre, we are uncertain that they may not take courage and delay their departure, for they can no longer doubt the second coming of the Lord in his chariot of fire by the side of his Father, the Judgment Book upon his lap. Those that have already gone will return, Mary answered; and our testimony will cause the wicked Pharisees to repent before it be too late. His words were that his blood was the means whereby we might rise into everlasting life.

Martha then broke in with much discourse, which Joseph interrupted with a question: had the young man they saw in the tomb spoken to them? The sisters were taken aback, and stood asking each other what he said, Martha saying one thing and Mary another; and so bewildered were they that Joseph bade them return to Bethany and relate to Lazarus, and any others of their company they might meet, all they had seen and heard: if you've heard anything, he added. Then thou believest Jesus to be risen from the dead, they cried through the bars as he locked the gates. Yes, I believe that Jesus lives. Will he return to us? Martha cried; and Joseph as he crossed the garden heard Mary crying through the dusk: shall we see him again? A fine story they'll relate, one which will not grow smaller as it passes from mouth to mouth. Sooner or later it will reach Pilate, and Pilate's first thought will be: the centurion told me that Jesus died on the cross after three hours; and I believed him, though it was outside of all reason to suppose the cross could kill a man in three hours. But if the Pharisees should go to Pilate and say to him: the rumour is about that Jesus has risen from the dead. Will you, Pilate, cause a search to be made from house to house? Pilate would answer that the law had been fulfilled, and that the testimony of his centurion was sufficient; for he hated the Pharisees and would refuse any other answer; but Pilate might send for him, Joseph; and Joseph fell to wondering at the answers he would make to Pilate, and at the duplicity of these, for he had never suspected himself of cunning. But circumstances make the man, he said, and before Jesus passes out of my keeping I shall have learnt to speak even as he did in double meanings.

He lay down to sleep, and when he rose it was time to go to help Esora to change the bandages, and while they were busy unwinding them (it was towards the end of the afternoon) they were interrupted suddenly in their work by Matred's voice in the garden calling: Esora, where are you? and, not getting an answer from Esora, she cried: Master! Master! A moment after her voice came from a different part of the garden, and Joseph said to Esora: she'll be knocking at the door in another minute; she mustn't come hither. Go and meet her, Esora, and as soon as the girl is safe come back to me. It shall be as thou sayest, Master; but meanwhile hold the man forward; let him not fall back upon the pillow, for it will stick there and my work will be undone. To which Joseph obeyed, himself quaking lest the Pharisees had come in search of Jesus, saying to himself: the Pharisees might be persuaded that Jesus is risen from the dead, but the Sadducees do not believe in the resurrection. What answer shall I give to them?

At last he heard Esora's voice outside: fear nothing, Master, for friends have come; one named Cleophas and another are here with a story of a miracle, and, unable to rid myself of them without rudeness, I asked them into the house, saying that you had business (meaning that we must finish dressing this poor man's wounds), but as soon as your business was finished you would go to meet them. You spoke as you should have spoken, Joseph answered her, and went towards the house certain and sure that they too came to tell Jesus' resurrection; and the moment he entered it and saw his guests, their faces and demeanour told him that he guessed rightly. Leaning towards them over the table familiarly, so as to help them to narrate simply, he heard Cleophas, whom the friend elected as spokesman, say they heard Martha and Mary telling they had found the stone rolled away, and a young man in white raiment seated where Jesus was overnight, and from him they had learnt that he whom they sought was risen from the dead. So we said to one another: if he sent an angel to tell these women of his resurrection he will not forget us, for we loved him; and in hopes of getting news of him in the country, and that we might better think of him, we agreed to walk together to Emmaus; for when a man is sad he likes to be with another one who may share his sadness, and Khuza and I have always loved the same Jesus of Nazareth.

We walked sadly, without speech, indulging in recollections of Jesus, and were half-way on our journey when a wayfarer approached us and asked us the cause of our grief. We asked him in reply if he were the only one in Jerusalem that had not heard speak of Jesus of Nazareth, a great prophet before God and the people. Do you not know that our priests and our rulers condemned him who we hoped would deliver Israel and to-day is the third day since all that has befallen? Some women of our company told us this morning that they had been to the sepulchre at daybreak and found nobody, but had seen angels, who told them that he lived; and then others of our company went to the sepulchre and they found that the women spoke truthfully; the tomb was empty of all but the cere-cloths. So did we tell the story to the wayfarer, who then asked us whither our way was, and we told him to Emmaus, and that our hope was our Master might send an angel to us with news of himself. It was with that hope that we left the city. And your way, honoured Sir? and he answered me, to Emmaus, and perceiving him as we walked thither to be a pious man, and more learned than ourselves in the Scriptures, we begged him to remain with us. He seemed averse, as if he had business farther on, but myself and my friend here, Khuza, persuaded him to stay and sup with us, so that we might tell our memories of him that was gone. But he seemed to know all we related to him of Jesus, interrupting us often with: as was foretold in the Scriptures, giving us chapter and verse; and enlivened by a glass of good wine, he spoke to us of the fruit of the vine which Jesus would drink with us in the Kingdom of his Father; and he broke bread and shared it with us, as it was meet that the head of the house should, and the gesture with which he broke it is one of our memories of Jesus. We fell to dreaming ourselves back in Galilee, and the intonations of Jesus' voice and the faces of the apostles were all remembered by us. We don't know for how long we dreamed, but when our eyes were opened to reality again we saw that our friend, who was anxious to continue his journey, had risen and gone away without bidding us good-bye, belike not wishing to disturb the current of our recollections. Did we not feel something strange while he was with us? my friend asked me, so to my friend here I put the question: did not our hearts burn while he spoke to us on the road hither? and I cited prophecies that were testimony that the Messiah must suffer before he entered into glory. And Khuza answered: did you not recognise him, Cleophas, by the way in which he broke bread? Now you speak of it, I replied—

Our eyes that had not seen saw, and we knew that Jesus had been with us, and hurried to Jerusalem to tell the apostles that we had seen him. But their hearts are hard and narrow and dry, as Jesus himself well knew, and as he said would be evinced at the striking of the hour, and when we told Peter that Martha and Mary had been to the sepulchre and found the stone rolled away he answered: I too have visited the sepulchre and saw nothing. It was open, but I saw no young man sitting in white raiment, nor did an angel greet me. John said: three days have now passed away since he was put on the cross, and in three days he was to have returned in a chariot of fire by the side of his Father and made a great Kingdom of happiness and peace in this country. But he hasn't come; he has deceived us and put our lives in jeopardy, for if the Pharisees find us here they'll bring us before Pilate, who is a man without mercy, and eleven more will hang on crosses.

Salome, mother of John and James, too, got in her word and railed against Jesus for having brought them all from Galilee for naught. John and James, he promised me, were to sit on either side of him in Kingdom Come. Whereupon Peter said: thou liest, woman. I was to sit on his right hand. And while these disciples disputed on Jesus' words Bartholomew praised Judas, who had withdrawn as soon as Jesus began to talk of the angels that would surround the chariot. Thomas reproved Bartholomew, saying that Jesus never said that there would be angels; and they all began to wrangle, asking each other how many angels would be required to match a Roman legion. Nor were they sure that Jesus said he was God's own son, and equal to God; at which many were scandalised and turned away their faces; nor could they say that they had not desired to find a god in him on account of the chairs. I'm not speaking of James and John. And then the ugly twain turned upon us, saying that we—myself and Khuza—were but disciples and could baptize with water, but not with the holy breath, which was reserved for the apostles; nor with fire. At his words the lightning flashed into the room, and John said: we are in the midst of a great miracle—the baptism by fire of the apostles. And when the storm ceased they were all mixed in a dispute about the imposition of hands; of this right they were the inheritors, so they said, and all were resolved to practise it as soon as they got back to Galilee, from whence they had foolishly strayed, abandoning their boats and nets. On the morrow they would return thither and pray that the Lord, who is the only god of Israel, would forgive them and send them a great draught of fish, which they hoped your father, Sir, would pay for at more than ordinary price to recompense them for what they lost by following the Master hither.

Joseph would have asked him if Nathaniel and Thomas and Bartholomew denied Jesus as well as Peter and James and John: if there was not one among the eleven that had faith that he might return. But prudence restrained him from putting needless questions, for Cleophas was loquacious, and he had only to listen to hear that Peter and James and John were eager that it should be known that they no longer believed Jesus to be the true Messiah that the Jews were waiting for. It is said, Khuza interrupted, becoming suddenly talkative in his turn, it is said that they are afraid lest the agents of the Pharisees should discover them. Many left for Galilee on the Friday evening, and in three days the fishers he brought hither will be letting down their nets again and the publican Matthew will start on his round asking for the taxes. All will be—

But, said Joseph, whose thoughts had gone back to the great draught of fish which Peter and John hoped his father would pay for above the usual price so that they might be recompensed for their journey to Jerusalem, you did not come to me to pray me to write to my father that he may punish the apostles for their lack of faith by refusing to buy their fish? No, it wasn't for that we came hither, Khuza answered quickly, and Cleophas looked at him, wondering if he would have the courage to put into words the cause of their visit. We thought that because Pilate had given the body of Jesus to you to lay in your sepulchre, and as you were the last to see him, you might come into Jerusalem with us and declare the miracle to the people. You see, Sir, Martha and Mary have testified to the rolling back of the stone, and no more is needed than your word for all to believe. Joseph looked in their faces for some moments, unable to reply to them; and then, collecting his thoughts as he spoke, he impressed upon Cleophas and Khuza that for him to go down to Jerusalem and proclaim his belief in the resurrection would only anger the Pharisees and give rise to further persecutions. It will be better, he said, to let the truth leak out and convince men naturally, without suspicion that we are attempting to deceive them with testimony which their hearts are already hardened against. This answer, which showed a knowledge of men that Joseph did not know he possessed, satisfied both Cleophas and Khuza, and perceiving that they were detaining Joseph they rose to go. On the way to the gate Joseph's words lighted up in their minds: he said it would be not well for him to go down to Jerusalem and proclaim his belief in the resurrection; therefore he believed in the resurrection, and, unable to restrain his curiosity, Khuza besought him to answer if Jesus ever said that it would be his corruptible body or a spiritual body (a sort of spirit of sense) that would ascend. It could not be the fleshy body which eats and drinks and passes soil and water, for unless there be in heaven corners where one can loosen one's belt the body would be gravely incommoded; and he began to argue, placing his foot so that Joseph could not close the gate, saying that if the corruptible body had not ascended into heaven it must be upon earth. But where—

Joseph's cheek paled, and Cleophas, noticing the pallor and interpreting it to mean Joseph's anger against his friend for his insistence in putting questions which Joseph could not answer—for had he not rolled up the stone of the sepulchre and sealed it and gone his way?—took his friend by the arm and said: we must leave Joseph of Arimathea some time to attend to his business. We are detaining him. Come, Khuza, we are trespassing on his time. Joseph smiled in acquiescence; but Khuza, who was still anxious to learn how many Roman soldiers equalled one angel, hung on until Joseph's patience ran dry. At last Cleophas got him away, and no sooner were their backs turned than Joseph forgot them completely as if they had never been: for Esora had said that she hoped to be able to get Jesus to swallow a little soup, and he hastened his steps, anxious to know if she had succeeded.

I got him to swallow two or three spoonfuls, she said, and they seem to have done him good. Dost think he seems to be resting easier? Yes; but the fever hasn't left him. His brain is still clouded and feeble. This is but the third day, she replied. Truthfully I can say that I've never seen any man scourged like this one. It is more than the customary scourging; the executioners must have gotten an extra fee. As she had seen men crucified in Tiberias and Caesarea, he asked her if it were common for the crucified to live after being lifted from the cross. Those that haven't been on the cross more than two days are brought back frequently, but the third day ends them, so great are the pains in the head and heart. But I knew one—and she began to relate the almost miraculous recovery of a man who had been on the cross for nearly three days, and had been brought back by strong remedies to live to a good old age. But none die on the first day? Joseph said, and Esora answered that she never heard of anyone that died so quickly; without, however, asking Joseph if the man before them had been lifted down from the cross the first, second or third day.

He expected her to ask him if Cleophas had come to warn him that inquiries were on foot regarding the disappearance of the body of one of the crucified, but she asked no questions, and he knew not whether she refrained from discretion or because her interest in things was dying. Not dying but dead, he said to himself as he scanned the years that her face and figure manifested, and judged them to be eighty.

Now Esora, I'll go and lie down for a little while, and lest I should oversleep myself I'll tell the girl to call me. But how shall I recompense thee for this care, Esora? I am too old, Master, to hope for anything but your pleasure, she answered, and when he returned she told him that Jesus was fallen into another swoon, and they began talking of the sick man. His mind wanders up and down Galilee, she said. And now I'll leave you to him. I've that girl on my mind. And while Jesus slept, Joseph pondered on the extraordinary adventure that he found himself on, giving thanks to God for having chosen him as the humble instrument of his will.



CHAP. XXI.

It was after she had persuaded him to take a little soup, which he did with some show of appetite, that Esora began to think she might save him: if his strength does not die away, she said. But will it? Joseph inquired. Not if he continues to take food, she replied; and two hours later she returned to the bedside to feed him again, and for a few seconds he was roused from his lethargy; but it was not till the seventh day that his eyes seemed to ask: who art thou, and who am I? And how came I hither? Thou'rt Jesus of Nazareth, and I am Joseph of Arimathea, whom thou knewest in Galilee, and it was I that brought thee hither, but more than that I dare not tell lest too much story should fatigue thy brain. I do not remember coming here. Where am I? Is this a holy place? Was a prophet ever taken away to heaven from here? Afraid to perplex the sick man, Joseph answered that he never heard that anything of the sort had happened lately. But thou canst tell me, Jesus continued, why thou'rt here? Thou'rt the rich man's son. Ah, yes, and my sorrow for some wrong done to thee brought thee hither. His eyelids fell over his eyes, and a few minutes afterwards he opened them, and after looking at Joseph repeated: my sorrow brought thee here; and still in doubt as to what answer he should make, Joseph asked him if he were glad he was by him. Very glad, he said, and strove to take Joseph's hand. But my hand pains me, and the other hand likewise; my feet too; my forehead; my back; I am all pain. Thou must have patience, Esora broke in, and the pain will pass away. Who is that woman? A leper, or one suffering from a flux of blood? Tell her I cannot impose my hands and cast out the wicked demon that afflicts her. He mustn't be allowed to talk, Esora said; he must rest. And on these words he seemed to sink into a lethargy. Has he fallen asleep again? It is sleep or lethargy, she answered, and they went to the door of the cottage, and, leaning against the lintels, stood balancing the chances of the sick man's recovery.

We can do no more, she said, than we are doing. We must put our trust in my balsam and give him food as often as he'll take it from us. Which they did day after day, relieving each other's watches, and standing over Jesus' bed conferring together, wondering if he cared to live or would prefer that they suffered him to die....

For many days he lay like a piece of wreckage, and it was not till the seventh day that he seemed to rouse a little out of his lethargy, or his indifference—they knew not which it was. In answer to Esora he said he felt easier, and would be glad if they would wheel his bed nearer to the door. Outside is the garden, he whispered, for I see boughs waving, and can hear the bees. Wilt thou let me go into the garden? As soon as I've removed the dressing thou shalt have a look into the garden, Esora replied, and she called upon Joseph to pull Jesus forward. All this, she said, was raw flesh a week ago, and now the scab is coming away nicely; you see the new skin my balsam is bringing up. His feet, too, are healing, Joseph observed, and look as if he will be able to stand upon them in another few days. Wounds do not heal as quickly as that, Master. Thou must have patience. But he'll be wanting a pair of crutches very soon. We might send to Jerusalem for a pair. There is no need to send to Jerusalem, he answered. I think I'd like to make him a pair. Anybody can make a pair of crutches, however poor a carpenter he may be; and every evening as soon as his watch was over he repaired to the wood-shed. They won't be much to look at, Esora reflected, but that won't matter, if he gets them the right length, and strong.

Come and see them, he said to her one evening, and when she had admired his handiwork sufficiently he said: tell me, Esora, is a man's mind the same after scourging and crucifixion as it was before? Esora shook her head. I suppose not, Joseph continued, for our minds draw their lives from our bodies. He'll be a different man if he comes up from his sickness. But he may live to be as old as I am, or the patriarchs, she returned. With a different mind, he added. So I've lost him in life whom I saved from death.

Esora did not ask any questions, and fearing that her master might tell her things he might afterwards regret having said, she remarked that Jesus would be needing the crutches in about another week.

And it was in or about that time, not finding Jesus in the cottage, they came down the pathway in great alarm, to be brought to a sudden stop by the sight of Jesus sitting under the cedars. How did he get there? Esora cried, for the crutches were in the wood-shed. They were, Esora, but I took them down to the cottage last night, and seeing them, and finding they fitted him, he has hobbled to the terrace. But he mustn't hobble about where he pleases, Esora said. He is a sick man and in our charge, and if he doesn't obey us he may fall back again into sickness. The bones have not properly set—— We don't know that any bones were broken, do we, Esora? We don't; for the nails may have pierced the feet and hands without breaking any. But, Master, look! Didst ever see such imprudence? Go! drive away my cat, or else my work will be undone.

Her cat, large, strong and supple as a tiger, had advanced from the opposite wood, and, unmindful of a bitch and her puppies, seated himself in the middle of the terrace. As he sat tidying his coat the puppies conceived the foolish idea of a gambol with him. The cat continued to lick himself, though no doubt fully aware of the puppies' intention, and it was not till they were almost on him that he rose, hackle erect, to meet the onset in which they would have been torn badly if Jesus had not hopped hastily forward and menaced him with his crutches. Even then the puppies, unmindful of the danger, continued to dance round the cat. You little fools, he will have your eyes, Jesus cried, and he caught them up in his arms, but unable to manage them and his crutches together, he dropped the crutches and started to get back to his seat without them.

It was this last imprudence that compelled Esora to cry out to Joseph that her work would be undone if Joseph did not run at once to Jesus and give him his crutches: now, Master, I hope ye told him he must leave cats and dogs alone, she said as soon as Joseph returned to her. If he doesn't we shall have him on our hands all the winter. All the winter! Joseph repeated. It is for thee to say, Master, how long he is to stay here; three weeks, till he is fit to travel, or all the winter, it is for you to say. Fit to travel, Joseph repeated. Why should he leave when he is fit to travel? he asked. Only, Master, because it will be hard to keep him in hiding much longer. Secrets take a long time to leak out, but they leak out in the end. But I may be wrong, Master, in thinking that there is a secret. I hardly know anything about this man, only that thou broughtest him back one night. So thou'rt not certain then that there is a secret, Esora? Joseph said. I won't say that, Master, for I can see by his back that he has been scourged, and cruelly, she answered. His hands and feet testify that he has been on the cross. Therefore, Joseph interposed, thou judgest him to be a malefactor of some sort. Master, I would judge no one. He is what thou choosest to tell me he is. Come then, Esora, Joseph replied, and I will tell thee his story and mine, for our stories have been strangely interwoven. But the telling will take some time. Come, let us sit in the shade of the acacia-trees yonder; there is a seat there, and we shall be in view of our sick man, ready to attend upon him should he require our attention.

She sat listening, immovable, like a figure of stone, her hands hanging over her knees. And when he told how Jesus opened his eyes in the tomb, and how he carried him through the rocks, seeking perhaps to astonish her a little by his account of the darkness, and the wild beasts, he said: now tell me, Esora, if I could have done else but bring him here on my shoulders. True it is that Pilate believed he was giving me not a live but a dead body; but Pilate wouldn't expect me to go to him with the tidings that Jesus was not dead, and that he might have him back to hoist on to a cross again. Pilate did not want to give him up for crucifixion. He found no fault with him. Dost understand, Esora? I understand very well, Master, that Pilate would think thee but a false friend if you had acted differently. He would not have thanked thee if thou hadst brought back this man to him. But, Esora, thy face wears a puzzled look. One thing puzzles me, she answered, for I cannot think what could have put it into his head that he was sent into the world to suffer for others. For are we not all suffering for others?

The simplicity of her question took Joseph aback, and he replied: I suppose thou'rt right in a way, Esora. Thou hast no doubt suffered for thy parents; I have suffered for my father. I left Galilee to keep my promise not to see Jesus; when I heard he was going to ride into Jerusalem in triumph on an ass from Bethany I ran away to Jericho. Could a man do more to keep his promise? But it was of no avail, for we may not change in our little lives the fate we were branded with a thousand years before we were born.

Thou'rt of one mind with me, Esora, that I couldn't have left him to die in the sepulchre? Thou couldst not have done such a thing and remained thyself; and it was God that gave you those fine broad shoulders for the burden. I saw thee a baby, and thou hast grown into a fine image like those they've put up to Caesar in Tiberias; and then, as if abashed by her familiarity, she began: Master, I wouldn't wish him to return to Jerusalem, for they would put him on the cross again, but he had better leave Judea. Art thou weary, Esora, of attendance on him? Joseph asked, and the servant answered: have I ever shown, Master, that I found attendance on him wearisome? He is so gentle and patient that it is a pleasure to attend on him, and an honour, for one feels him to be a great man. The highest I have met among men, Joseph interposed, and I have searched diligently, wishing always to worship the best on earth. He is that, and maybe there's no better in heaven; after God comes Jesus.

It wouldn't be a woman then that thou wouldst choose to meet in heaven, but a man? Men love women, Joseph said, for their corruptible bodies, and women love men for theirs; but even the lecher would choose rather to meet a man in heaven, and the wanton another woman. If we would discover whom we love most, we can do so by asking ourselves whom we would choose to meet in heaven. Heaven without Jesus would not be heaven for me. But if he be not the Messiah after all? Esora asked. Should I love him less? he answered her. None is as perfect as he. I have known him long, Esora, and can say truly that none is worthy to be the carpet under his feet.

I have never spoken like this before, but I am glad to have spoken, for now thou understandest how much thou hast done for me. Thou and thy balsam and thy ministration. My balsam, she answered, has done better than I expected it would do. Thou sawest his back this morning. One can call it cured. His hands and feet have mended and his strength is returning. In a few days he will be fit to travel. This is the third time, Esora, that thou hast said he'll be able to travel soon—yet thou sayest he is so patient and gentle that it is a pleasure to attend on him; and an honour. But, Master, the danger is great, and every day augments the danger. Secrets, as I've said, take a long time to leak out, but they leak out in time. Her words are wise, he thought to himself, and he overlooked her, guessing her to have shrunken to less than her original size; she seemed but a handful of bones and yellow skin, but when she looked up in his face her eyes were alive, and from under a small bony forehead they pleaded, and with quavering voice she said: let him go, dear Master, for if the Pharisees seek him here and find him, he will hang again on the cross. Thou wouldst have me tell him, Esora, that rumours are about that he did not die on the cross and that a search may be made for him. I wouldn't have thee speak to him of Pilate or his crucifixion, Master, for we don't know that he'd care to look back upon his troubles; he might prefer to forget them as far as he is able to forget them. But thou canst speak to him of his health, Master, which increases every day, and of the benefit a change would be to him. Speak to him if thou wouldst of a sea voyage, but speak not of anything directly for fear of perplexing him. Lead rather than direct, for his mind must be a sort of maze at present. A great deal has befallen, and nothing exactly as he expected. Nor would I have thee speak to him of anything but actual things; speak of what is before his eyes as much as possible; not a word about yesterday or of to-morrow, only so far as his departure is concerned. Keep his thoughts on actual things, Master: on his health, for he feels that, and on the dogs about his feet, for he sees them; he takes an interest in them; let him speak to thee of them, which will be better still, and in your talk about dogs many things will happen. The hills about Caesarea may be mentioned; see that they are mentioned; ask him if they are like the hills above Jericho. I cannot tell thee more, Master, but will pray that thou mayest speak the right words.

A shrewd old thing, Joseph thought, as he went towards Jesus, looking back once to see Esora disappearing into the wood. She'd have me keep his thoughts on actual things, he continued, and seeing that Jesus had called the puppies to him and was making himself their playmate, he asked him if he were fond of dogs; whereupon Jesus began to praise the bitch, saying she was of better breeding than her puppies, and that when she came on heat again she should be sent to a pure Thracian like herself. Joseph asked, not because he was interested in dog-breeding, but to make talk, if the puppies were mongrels. Mongrels, Jesus repeated, overlooking them; not altogether mongrels, three-quarter bred; the dog that begot them was a mongrel, half Syrian, half Thracian. I've seen worse dogs highly prized. Send the bitch to a dog of pure Thracian stock and thou'lt get some puppies that will be the sort that I used to seek.

Joseph waited, for he expected Jesus to speak of the Essenes and of the time when he was their shepherd; but Jesus' thoughts seemed to have wandered from dogs, and to bring them back to dogs again Joseph interposed: thou wast then a shepherd? But Jesus did not seem to hear him, and as he was about to repeat his question he remembered that Esora told him to keep to the present time. We do not know, she said, that he remembers, and if he has forgotten the effort to remember will fatigue him, or it may be, she had added, that he wishes to keep his troubles out of mind. A shrewd old thing, Joseph said to himself, and he sat by Jesus considering how he might introduce the subject he had come to speak to Jesus about, the necessity of his departure from Judea. But as no natural or appropriate remark came into his mind to make, he sat like one perplexed and frightened, not knowing how the silence that had fallen would be broken. It is easy, he thought, for Esora to say, speak only of present things, but it is hard to keep on speaking of things to a man whose thoughts are always at ramble. But if I speak to him of his health an occasion must occur to remind him that a change is desirable after a long or a severe illness. It may have been that Joseph did not set forth the subject adroitly; he made mention, however, of a marvellous recovery, and as Jesus did not answer him he continued: Esora thought that thou wouldst be able to get as far as the terrace in another week, but thou'rt on the terrace to-day. Still Jesus did not answer him, and feeling that nothing venture nothing win, he struck boldly out into a sentence that change of air is the best medicine after sickness. Jesus remaining still unresponsive, he added: sea air is better than mountain air, and none as beneficial as the air that blows about Caesarea.

The word Caesarea brought a change of expression into Jesus' face, and Joseph, interpreting it to mean that Jesus was prejudiced against those coasts, hastened to say that a sick man is often the best judge of the air he needs. But, Joseph, I have none but thee, Jesus said; and the two men sat looking into each other's eyes, Joseph thinking that if Jesus were to recover his mind he would be outcast, as no man had ever been before in the world: without a country, without kindred, without a belief wherewith to cover himself; for nothing, Joseph said to himself as he sat looking into Jesus' eyes, has happened as he thought it would; and no man finds new thoughts and dreams whereby he may live. I did not foresee this double nakedness, or else might have left him to die on the cross. Will he, can he, forgive me? A moment afterwards he recovered hope, for Jesus did not seem to know that the hills beyond the terrace were the Judean hills, and then, as if forgetting the matter in hand (his projected residence in Caesarea), he began to speak of Bethlehem, saying he could not think of Bethlehem without thinking of Nazareth, a remark that was obscure to Joseph, who did not know Nazareth. It was to make some answer—for Jesus seemed to be waiting for him to answer—that Joseph said: Nazareth is far from Caesarea, a remark that he soon perceived to be unfortunate, for it awakened doubts in Jesus that he was no longer welcome in Joseph's house. Why speakest thou of Caesarea to me? he said. Is it because thou wouldst rid thyself of me? Whereupon Joseph besought Jesus to lay aside the thought that he, Joseph, wished him away. I would have thee with me always, deeming it a great honour; but Esora has charge of thy health and has asked me to say that a change is needed.

My health, Jesus interrupted. Am I not getting my strength quickly? do not send me away, Joseph, for I am weak in body and in mind; let me stay with thee a little longer; a few days; a few weeks. If I go to Caesarea I must learn Greek, for that is the language spoken there, and thou'lt teach me Greek, Joseph. Send me not away. But there is no thought of sending thee away, Joseph answered; my house is thy house for as long as thou carest to remain, and the words were spoken with such an accent of truth that Jesus answered them with a look that went straight to Joseph's heart; but while he rejoiced Jesus' mind seemed to float away: he was absent from himself again, and Joseph had begun to think that all that could be said that day had been said on the subject of his departure from Judea, when a little memory began to be stirring in Jesus, as Esora would say, like a wind in a field.

I remember thee, Joseph, as one to whom I did a great wrong, but what that wrong was I have forgotten. Do not try to recall it, Joseph said to him, no wrong was done, Jesus. Thou'rt the rich man's son, he said, and what I remember concerning thee is thy horse, for he was handsomer than any other. His name was Xerxes. Dost still ride him? Is he in the stables of yon house? He was sold, Joseph answered, to pay for our journey in Syria, and some of the price went to pay for thy cloak. The cloak on my shoulders? Jesus asked. The cloak on thy shoulders is one of my cloaks. Thou earnest here naked. I was carried here by an angel, Jesus replied, for I felt the feathers of his wings brush across my face. But why that strange look, Joseph?—those curious, inquisitive eyes? It was an angel that carried me hither. No, Jesus, it was I that carried thee out of the sepulchre up the crooked path. What is thy purpose in saying that it was no angel but thou? Jesus asked; and Joseph, remembering that he must not say anything that would vex Jesus, regretted having contradicted him and tried to think how he might mend his mistake with words that would soothe Jesus; but, as it often is on such occasions, the more we seek for the right words the further we seem to be from them, and Joseph did not know how he might plausibly unsay his story that he had carried him without vexing Jesus still further: he is sure an angel carried him, Joseph said: he felt the feathers of the wings brush across his face, and he is now asking himself why I lied to him.

As Joseph was thinking that it might be well to say that Bethlehem was like Nazareth, he caught sight of Jesus' face as pale as ashes, more like a dead face than a living, and fearing that he was about to swoon again or die, Joseph called loudly for Esora, who came running down the pathway.

Thou mustn't call for me so loudly, Master. If Matred had heard thee and come running—— But, Esora, look. As likely as not it is no more than a little faintness, she said. He has been overdoing it: running after puppies, and talking with thee about Caesarea. But it was thyself told me to ask him to go to Caesarea for change of air. Never mind, Master, what I told thee. We must think now how we shall get him back to bed. Do thou take one arm and I'll take the other.



CHAP. XXII.

Jesus did not speak about angels again, and one morning at the end of the week before going away to Jerusalem to attend to some important business Joseph, after a talk with Esora, turned down the alley with the intention of asking Jesus to leave Judea. It would have been better, she said to herself, if he had waited till evening; these things cannot be settled off-hand; he'll only say the wrong thing again, and she stood waiting at her kitchen door, hoping that Joseph would stop on his way out to tell her Jesus' decision, but he went away without speaking, and she began to think it unlikely that anything was decided. He is soft-hearted and without much will of his own, she said.... Jesus is going to stay with us, so we may all hang upon crosses yet, unless, indeed, Master comes to hear something in Jerusalem that will bring him round to my way of thinking. He believes, she continued, that Jesus is forgotten because the apostles have returned to their fishing, but that cannot be; the two young women that came here one Sunday morning with a story about an empty sepulchre have found, I'll vouch, plenty of eager gossips, and a smile floated round her old face at the additions she heard to it yester morning at the gates. But no good would come of my telling him, she meditated, for he'd only say it was my fancies, though he has to acknowledge that I am always right when I speak out of what he calls my fancies. In about three weeks, she muttered, the stories that are going the round will begin to reach his ears.

The old woman's guess was a good one. It was about that time the camel-drivers, assembled in the yard behind the counting-house, began to tell that Jesus had been raised from the dead, and their stories, being overheard by the clerk, were reported to Joseph. The Pharisees are angry with Pilate for not having put a guard of soldiers over the tomb, the clerk was saying, when Joseph interjected that a guard of soldiers would be of no avail if God had wished to raise Jesus from the dead. The point of their discourse, the clerk continued, is that no man but Jesus died on the cross in three hours; three days, Sir, are mentioned as the usual time. It is said that a man, Sir, often lingers on until the end of the fourth day. Joseph remained, his thoughts suspended, and the clerk, being a faithful servant, and anxious for Joseph's safety, asked if he might speak a word of counsel, and reading on Joseph's face that he was permitted to speak, he said: I would have you make an end of these rumours, Sir, and this can be done if you will attend the next meeting of the Sanhedrin and make plain your reason for having gone to Pilate to ask him for the body. As it seemed to Joseph that his clerk had spoken well, he attended the next meeting of the Council, but the business that the councillors had come together for did not admit of interruption for the sake of personal explanation, however interesting, and the hostility of everybody to him was notable from the first. Only a few personal friends spoke to him; among them was Nicodemus, who would not be dismissed, but went away with him at the close of the meeting, beseeching him not to cross the valley unarmed, and if thou wouldst not draw attention to thyself by the purchase of arms, he said, I will give thee the arms thou needest for thyself and will arm some camel-drivers for thee. I thank thee, Nicodemus, but if I were to return home accompanied by three or four armed camel-drivers I should draw the attention of Jerusalem upon me, thereby quickening the anger of the Pharisees, and my death would be resolved upon. But art thou sure that the hirelings of the priests haven't been told to kill thee? Nicodemus asked. Pilate's friendship for me is notorious, Joseph replied. I'm not afraid, Nicodemus, and it is well for me that I'm not, for assassination comes to the timorous. That is true, Nicodemus rejoined, our fears often bring about our destiny, but thou shouldst avoid returning by the valley; return by the eastern gate and on horseback. But that way, Joseph answered, is a lonely and long one, and thinking it better to put a bold face on the matter, though his heart was beating, he began to speak scornfully of the Pharisees who, seemingly, would have consented to a desecration of the Sabbath. He had done no more than any other Jew who did not wish the Sabbath to be desecrated, and remembering suddenly that Nicodemus would repeat everything he said, he spoke again of Pilate's friendship, and the swift vengeance that would follow his murder. Pilate is my friend, and whoever kills me makes sure of his own death. I do not doubt that what thou sayest is true, Joseph, but Pilate may be recalled, and it may suit the next Roman to let the priests have their way. I am going to Egypt to-morrow, he said suddenly. To Egypt, Joseph repeated, and memories awoke in him of the months he spent in Alexandria, of the friends he left there, of the Greek that he had taken so much trouble to perfect himself in, and the various philosophies which he thought enlarged his mind, though he pinned his faith to none; and reading in his face the pleasure given by the word Egypt, Nicodemus pressed him to come with him: all those who are suspected of sympathy with Jesus, he said, will do well to leave Judea for a year at least. Alexandria, as thou knowest, having lived there, is friendly to intellectual dispute. In Alexandria men live in a kingdom that belongs neither to Caesar nor to God. But all things belong to God, Joseph replied. Yes, answered Nicodemus; but God sets no limits to the mind, but priests do in the name of God. Remember Egypt, where thou'lt find me, and glad to see thee....

On these words the men parted, and Joseph descended into the valley a little puzzled, for the traditionalism of Nicodemus seemed to have undergone a change. But more important than any change that may have happened in Nicodemus' mind was the journey to Egypt, that he had proposed to Joseph. Joseph would like to go to Egypt, taking Jesus with him, and as he walked he beheld in imagination Jesus disputing in the schools of philosophy, but if he were to go away to Egypt the promise to his father would be broken fully. If his father were to fall ill he might die before the tidings of his father's illness could reach him; a year's residence in Egypt was, therefore, forbidden to him; on the top of the Mount of Olives he stopped, so that he might remember that Nicodemus' disposition was always to hear the clashing of swords; spears are always glittering in his eyes for one reason or another, he said, and though he would regret a friend's death, he would regard it as being atoned for if the brawl were sufficiently violent. He has gone to Egypt, no doubt, because it is pleasing to him to believe his life to be in danger. He invents reasons. Pilate's recall! Now what put that into his mind? He may be right, but this Mount of Olives is peaceful enough and the road beyond leading to my house seems safe to the wayfarer even at this hour. He followed the road in a quieter mood, and it befell that Esora opened the gates to him, for which he thanked her abruptly and turned away, wishing to be alone; but seeing how overcast was his face, she did not return to her kitchen as she had intended, but remained with him, anxious to learn if the rumours she knew to be current had reached his ears. She would not be shaken off by silence, but followed him down the alley leading to Jesus' cottage, answering silence by silence, certain in this way to provoke him thereby into confidences. They had not proceeded far into the wood before they came upon Jesus in front of a heap of dead leaves that he had raked together. A great many had fallen, he said, and the place was beginning to look untidy, so I thought I would gather them for burning. Thou must not tire thyself, Joseph answered, as he passed on with Esora, asking her as they went through the autumn woods if Jesus found the rake for himself or if she gave it to him. He asked me if he might be allowed to feed the chickens, she said, and I would have let him if Matred's window did not overlook the yard. Master, the hope of getting him out of Judea rests upon the chance that he may recover his mind, and staring at the desert all day won't help him. He musn't brood, and as there is no work like raking up leaves to keep a man's thought off himself, unless, indeed, it be digging, I thought I had better let him have the rake. But if Matred should meet him? Joseph asked. She will see the new gardener in him, that will be all. I told her last night, Esora continued, that we were expecting the new gardener, and she said it would be pleasant to have a man about the house again. But he musn't attempt any hard work like digging yet awhile; he has done enough to-day; I'll go and tell him to put away the rake and pass on to his supper. She waited for Joseph to answer, but he was in no humour for speech, and she left him looking at the hills.

A cloud lifts, and we are; another cloud descends, and we are not; so much do we know, but we are without sufficient sight to discover the reason behind all this shaping and reshaping, for like all else we ourselves are changing as Heraclitus said many years ago.

And while thinking of this philosopher, whose wisdom he felt to be more satisfying than any other, he paced back and forth, seeking a little while longer to untie the knot that all men seek to untie, abandoning at last, saying: fate tied it securely before the beginning of history, and on these words he ran up the steps of his house, pausing on the threshold to listen, for he could distinguish Esora's voice, and Matred's; afterwards he heard Jesus' voice, and he said: Jesus eats with my servants in the kitchen! This cannot be, and he very nearly obeyed the impulse of the moment, which was to call Jesus and tell him to come and eat his supper with him. To do this, however, would draw Matred's attention to the fact that Jesus was not of her company but of her master's, and distinctions between servants and master, he continued, are not for him, who thinks in eternal terms.

He sat at table, his thoughts suspended, but awakening suddenly from a reverie, of which he remembered nothing, he rose from his seat and went to the kitchen door, regretting that he was not with Jesus, for to miss his words, however slight they might be, seemed to him to be a loss that could not be repaired. They are listening to him, he said, with the same pleasure that I used to do, watching his eyes lighting his words on their way.

At that moment a shuffling of feet sent him back to his seat again, and he put food into his mouth just in time to escape suspicion of eavesdropping. I thought, Master, that thy supper was finished, and that I might take away the plates. I've hardly begun my supper, Esora. Your voices in the kitchen prevented me from eating. We are sorry for that, Master, she replied. Make no excuses, Esora. I said it was the voices in the kitchen that disturbed me, but in truth it was my own thoughts, for I have heard many things to-day in Jerusalem. Esora's face brightened and she said to herself: my words to him are coming true. Sit here, Esora, and I'll tell thee what I've heard to-day. And while Matred listened to Jesus in the kitchen Esora heard from Joseph that the camel-drivers had been talking of the resurrection in the yard behind the counting-house, and that his clerk's advice to him had been to attend the Sanhedrin, and make plain that his reason for going to Pilate to ask for the body of Jesus was because he did not wish a desecration of the Sabbath. But he had only met a show of dark faces, and left the meeting in company with Nicodemus. Esora, is our danger as great as this young man says it is? Master, I have always told thee that as soon as Jesus leaves Judea he will be safe from violence, from death, and we shall be safe too, but not till then. But how are we to persuade him to leave Judea, Esora? Thou must try, Master, to persuade him, there is no other way. He is talking now with Matred in the kitchen. Ask him to come here, and thou'lt see, Esora, the sad face that uplifts when I speak to him of Caesarea. I'll speak for thee, Master, she answered, and going to the door she called Jesus to them, and when he stood before them she said: have I not proved a good physician to thee? To-day thy back gives thee no trouble. Only aching a bit, he answered, from stooping, but that will pass away. And my balsam having cured thy feet and hands is it not right that I should take a pride in thee? And, smiling, Jesus answered: had I voice enough I would call the virtue of thy balsam all over the world. My balsam has done well with thee, but a change is needed to restore thee to thyself, and seeing a cloud come into his face, she continued: we weren't talking of sending thee to Caesarea, for it is of little use to send a man in search of health whither he is not minded to go. Our talk was not of Caesarea. But of what city then? Jesus asked, and Esora began to speak of Alexandria, and Joseph, thinking that she repeated indifferently all that she had heard of that city from him, interrupted her and began to discourse about the several schools of philosophy and his eagerness to hear Jesus among the sages. But why should thy philosophers listen to me? Jesus asked. Because thou'rt wise. No man, he replied, is wise but he who would learn, and none is foolish but he who would teach. If there are learners there must be teachers, Joseph said, and he awaited Jesus' answer eagerly, but Esora, fearing their project would be lost sight of in argument, broke in, saying: neither teaching nor learning avails, but thy health, Jesus, and to-morrow a caravan starts for Egypt, and we would know if thou'lt join it, for one whom thou knowest goes with it, a friend, one Nicodemus, a disciple, whose love for thee is equal to my master's.

Jesus' face darkened, but he said nothing, and Esora asked him if he did not care to travel with Nicodemus, and he answered that if he went to Egypt he would like to go with Joseph. But my master has business here, and may not leave it easily. Is this so, Joseph? Jesus asked, and Joseph answered: it is true that I have business here, but there are other reasons, and weightier ones than the one Esora has put before thee, why I may not leave Jerusalem and go to live in Egypt. But wouldst thou have me go to Egypt with Nicodemus, Joseph? Jesus asked, and Joseph could not do else than say that the companion he would choose would not be one whose tongue was always at babble. But wilt thou go to Egypt, he asked, if I tell thee that it is for thy safety and for ours that we propose this voyage to thee? And Jesus answered: be it so.

Then, Jesus, we'll make plans together, Esora and myself, for thy departure; and having thanked him, Jesus returned to Matred in the kitchen, and they could hear him talking with her while they debated, and as soon as the kitchen door closed Joseph told Esora that he could not break the promise he gave to his father, and it was this very promise that she strove to persuade him to forgo. For it is the only way, she said, and he, agreeing with her, said: though I have promised my father not to keep the company of Jesus, it seems to me that I should be negligent in my duty towards Jesus if I did not go with him to Egypt; and Esora said: that is well said, Master, and now we will go to our beds. God often counsels us in sleep and warns us against hasty promises.

And it was as he expected it would be: he was that night disturbed by a dream in which his father appeared to him wearing a distressful face, saying: I have a blessing that I would give to thee. There were more words than this, but Joseph could not remember them; but the words he did remember seemed to him a warning that he must not leave Judea; and Jesus was of one mind with him when he heard them related on the terrace. A son, he said, must be always obedient to his father, and love him before other men.

Whereupon Esora, who was standing by when these words were spoken, was much moved, for she, too, believed in dreams and their interpretation, and she could put no other interpretation upon Joseph's dream than that he was forbidden to go to Egypt. But Joseph might write, she said, to some of his friends in Egypt, and they could send a friend, if they wished it, who would meet Jesus at Jericho; and this plan was in dispute till all interest in Egypt faded from their minds, and they began to talk of other countries and cities; of Athens and Corinth we were talking, Joseph said to Esora, who had come into the room, and of India, of Judea. But if Jesus were to go to India we should never see him again, she answered. It is thy good pleasure, Master, to arrange the journey, and when it is arranged to thy satisfaction thou'lt tell me, though I do not know why thou shouldst consult me again. I came to tell thee that one of thy camel-drivers has come with the news that the departure of the caravan for Egypt has been advanced by two days. But if thou'rt thinking of Egypt no longer I may send him away. Tell him to return to the counting-house, and that there is no order for to-day, Joseph replied. You will settle the journey between you, Esora said, turning back on her way to the kitchen to speak once more. She would have me go, Jesus said. Put that thought out of thy mind, Joseph replied quickly, for it is not a true thought. Thou shouldst have guessed better; it is well that thou goest, but we must find the country and the city that is agreeable to thee, and that will be discovered in our talk in the next few days, to which Jesus answered nothing; and at the end of the next few days, though much had been said, it seemed to Joseph that Jesus' departure was as far away as ever. It has become, he said to Esora, a little dim. I know nothing, he continued, of Jesus' mind.