THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
GIFT OF
Dr. Waldemar Westergaard
BAR ABB AS
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY
BY
MARIE CORELLI
AUTHOR OP
'VENDETTA!" "A ROMANCE OF Two WORLDS," "ARDATH," ETC., ETC.
"And they consulted how they might take him by
ubtilty." ST. MATT. xxvi. v. 4
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1896
COPYRIGHT, 1893,
BY
|. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
ElECTROTVPED AND PRINTED BY J. B. LlPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A.
" And they had then a notable prisoner called Barabbas."
Matthew xxvii. v. 16.
" One named Barabbas which lay bound with them that had
made insurrection with him." Mark xv. v. 7.
"Barabbas, who for a certain sedition made in the city and
for murder was cast into prison." Luke xxiii. v. 18, 19.
" Now Barabbas was a robber."; John xviii. v. 40.
BARABBAS
CHAPTER I.
A LONG sultry Syrian day was drawing near its close.
The heavy heat was almost insupportable, and a poisonous
stench oozed up from the damp earth-floors of the Jewish
prison, charging what little air there was with a deadly sense
of suffocation. Down in the lowest dungeons complete dark-
ness reigned, save in one of the cells allotted to the worst
criminals ; there, all through the slow hours a thin white line
of light had persistently pierced the thick obscurity. It was
the merest taper-flame reflection of the outside glowing East-
ern sky, yet narrow as it was, it had vexed the eyes of the
solitary prisoner on whom it fell, and he had turned from its
hot flash with a savage curse and groan. Writhing back as
far as his chains would allow, he covered his face with his
manacled hands, pressing his eyelids down, and gnawing his
lips in restless fury till his mouth was bitter with the taste of
his own blood. He was seized with such impotent rages
often. He mentally fought against that poignant light-beam
cutting like a sword through deep darkness, he regarded it
as a positive foe and daily source of nervous irritation. It
marked for him the dismal time, when it shone he knew
it was day, when it vanished, it was night. Otherwise,
whether minutes or hours passed, he could not tell. His
existence had merged into one protracted phase of dull suffer-
ing, varied with occasional fits of maniac ferocity which only
relieved him for the moment and left him more stupefied and
brutish than before. He had no particular consciousness of
anything except of that needle-pointed ray which, falling
obliquely upon him, dazzled and hurt his eyes. He could
have endured the glare of the Syrian sun in the free and
open country, no one better than he could have turned a
1* 6
6 BARABBAS
bold gaze to its amber flame radiating tbrougb the vast blue
dome of ether, but here and now, that thin shaft of bright-
ness pouring slantwise through the narrow slit in the wall
which alone served as an air-passage to the foul den in which
he was caged seemed an aggression and a mockery. He made
querulous complaint of it, and huddling on his bed of dirty
straw in the furthest darkness refreshed himself anew with
curses. Against God and Fate and man he railed in thick-
throated blasphemies, twisting and turning from side to side
and clutching now and again in sheer ferocity at the straw on
which he lay. He was alone, yet not altogether lonely, for
close beside him where he crouched like a sullen beast in the
corner there was a crossed grating of thick iron bars, the only
air-aperture to the neighbouring cell, and through this there
presently came a squat grimy hand. After feeling about for
a while, this hand at last found and cautiously pulled the edge
of his garment, and a faint hoarse voice called him by name.
" Barabbas !"
He turned with a swift savage movement that set his chains
clanking dismally.
" What now ?"
"They have forgotten us," whined the voice. "Since
early morning they have brought no food. I am perishing
with hunger and thirst ! Ah, I would I had never seen thy
face, Barabbas, or had aught to do with thine evil plotting 1"
Barabbas made no answer.
" Knowest thou not," went on his invisible fellow-felon,
" what season this is in the land ?"
"How should I know!" retorted Barabbas disdainfully.
" What are seasons to me ? Is it a year or years since we
were brought hither? If thou can'st tell, I cannot."
" 'Tis eighteen months since thou did'st slay the Pharisee,"
replied his neighbour with marked malignity of accent,
" And had it not been for that wicked deed of thine, we
might have missed this present wretchedness. Verily it is a
marvel we have lived so long, for look you, now it is Pass-
Barabbas uttered no word, either of surprise or interest.
" Reraemberest thou the custom of the Feast?" pursued
the speaker, " How that one captive chosen by the people
shall be set at liberty? Would that it might be one of us,
(arabbas ! There were ten of our company ,ten as goodly
nen as ever were born in Judaea, always excepting thee.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 7
For thou wert mad for love, and a frenzied lover is the worst
of fools."
Barabbas still kept silence.
" If innocence hath any merit," continued the voice behind
the grating anxiously, " then perchance the choice will fall
on me ! For am I not an innocent man ? The God of my
fathers knoweth that my hands are not stained with the blood
of the virtuous ; I slew no Pharisee ! A little gold was all I
sought"
" And did'st thou not take it ?" rejoined Barabbas suddenly
and with scorn, " Thou hypocrite ! Did'st thou not rob the
Pharisee of all he had upon him even to his last jewel ? Did
not the guard capture thee in the very act of breaking with
thy teeth the gold band from his arm ere the breath left his
body ? Cease thy prating ! Thou art the worst thief in
Jerusalem and thou knowest it !"
There was a sound behind the bars as of something between
a grunt and a snarl, and the squat hand thrust itself through
with vicious suddenness, to be as suddenly withdrawn. A
pause ensued.
" No food all day !" moaned the voice again presently
" And not a drop of water ! Surely if they come not I shall
die ! I shall die in this darkness, this dense pitch black-
ness" and the faint accents grew feebly shrill with fear
"Dost thou hear me, thou accursed Barabbas? I shall
die!"
" And so there will be an end of thee," returned Barabbas
indifferently "And those who hoard gold in the city can
sleep safely henceforth with open doors !"
Out came the ugly hand again, this time clenched, giving
in its repulsive shape and expression a perfect idea of the
villainous character of its unseen owner.
" Thou art a devil, Barabbas!" and the shadowy outline
of a livid face and wild hair appeared for an instant against
the grating " And I swear to thee I will live on, if only in
the hope of seeing thee crucified !"
Barabbas held his peace, and dragged himself and his
clanking chains away from his spiteful fellow-prisoner's vicinity.
Lifting his eyes distrustfully he peered upward with a smart-
ing sense of pain, then heaved a deep sigh of relief as he
saw that the burning arrow line of white radiance no longer
lit the cell. It had changed to a beam of soft and dusky
crimson.
g BARABBAS
Sunset !" he muttered. " How many times hath the sun
gone down and risen since I beheld her last ! This is the
hour she loves, she will go with her maidens to the well
behind her father's house, and underneath the palm-trees she
will rest and rejoice, while I, I, God of vengeance !
I may never look upon her face again. Eighteen months
of torture 1 Eighteen months in this tomb and no hope of
respite !' '
With a savage gesture he rose and stood upright ; his
head almost touched the dungeon ceiling and he stepped
warily, the heavy fetters on his bare legs jangling harshly as
he moved. Placing one foot on a notch in the wall he was
able to bring his eyes easily on a level with the narrow aper-
ture through which the warm fire-glow of the sunset fell, but
there was little to be seen from such a point of observation.
Only a square strip of dry uncultivated land belonging to the
prison, and one solitary palm-tree lifting its crown of feathery
leaves against the sky. He stared out for a moment, fancy-
ing he could discern the far-off hazy outline of the hills sur-
rounding the city, then, too faint with long fasting to retain
his footing, he slipped back and returned to his former corner.
There he sat, glowering darkly at the rose-light reflected on
the floor. It partially illumined his own features, bringing
into strong prominence his scowling brows and black resent-
ful eyes, it flashed a bright life-hue on his naked chest that
heaved with the irregular and difficult breath of one who
fights against long exhaustion and hunger-pain, and it glit-
tered with a sinister coppery tint on the massive iron gyves
that bound his wrists together. He looked much more like a
caged wild beast than a human being, with his matted hair
and rough beard, he was barely clothed, his only garment
being a piece of sackcloth which was kept about his loins by
means of a coarse black rope, twisted twice and loosely knot-
ted. The heat in the cell was intense, yet he shivered now
and then as he crouched in the stifling gloom, his knees
drawn nearly up to his chin, and his shackled hands resting
on his knees, while he stared with an owl-like pertinacity at
the crimson sunbeam which with every second grew paler and
dimmer. At first it had been an ardent red, as red as the
blood of a slain Pharisee, thought Barabbas with a dark
smile, hut now it had waned to a delicate wavering pink
like the fleeting blush of a fair woman, and a great shudder
cized him as this latter fancy crossed his sick and sulleD
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 9
mind. With a smothered cry he clenched his hands hard as
though assailed by some unendurable physical pang.
"Judith! Judith!" he whispered, and yet again "Ju-
dith!"
And trembling violently, he turned and hid his face, press-
ing his forehead close against the damp and slimy wall. Aud
thus he remained, motionless, his massive figure looking
like a weird Titanesque shape carved in stone.
The last red flicker from the sunken sun soon faded and
dense darkness fell. Not a sound or movement betrayed the
existence of any human creature in that noxious gloom.
Now and again the pattering feet of mice scurrying swiftly
about the floor made a feeble yet mysterious clamour, other-
wise, all was intensely still. Outside, the heavens were put-
ting on all their majesty; the planets swam into the purple
ether, appearing to open and shine like water-lilies on a lake,
in the east a bar of silvery cloud showed where the moon
would shortly rise, and through the window slit of the dun-
geon one small star could be just discerned, faintly glittering.
But not even an argent ray flung slantwise from the moon
when at last she ascended the skies could illumine the dense
thicket of shadows that gathered in that dreary cell, or touch
with a compassionate brightness the huddled form of the
wretched captive within. Invisible and solitary, he wrestled
with his own physical and mental misery, unconscious that
the wall against which he leaned was warm and wet with
tears, the painful tears, worse than the shedding of blood,
of a strong man's bitter agony.
CHAPTER II.
HOURS passed, and presently the heavy silence was
broken by a distant uproar, a hollow sound like the sudden
inrush of a sea, which began afar off, and gathered strength
as it came. Rolling onward and steadily increasing in volume,
it appeared to split itself into a thousand angry echoes close
by the dungeon walls, and a confused tumult of noisy tongues
arose, mingling with the hurried and disorderly tramping of
many feet and the clash of weapons. Voices argued hoarsely,
there were shrill whistlings, and now and then the flare
10 BARABBAS
of tossing torches cast a fitful fire-gleam into the den where
Barabbas lay. Once a loud laugh rang out above the more
indistinct hubbub followed by a shout
" Prophesy ! Prophesy I Who is he that smote thee ?"
And the laughter became general, merging itself swiftly
into a frantic chorus of yells and groans and hisses. Then
came a brief pause, in which some of the wilder noises
ceased, and an angry disputation seemed to be going on be-
tween two or three individuals in authority, till presently the
ocean-like roar and swell of sound recommenced, passed slowly
on, and began to die away like gradually diminishing peals of
thunder. But while it remained yet within distinct hearing,
there was a slow dragging of chains inside the dungeon and
a feeble beating of manacled hands at the interior grating,
and the voice that had called before now called again :
" Barabbas !"
No answer was returned.
" Barabbas ! Hearest thou the passing multitude?"
Still silence.
" Barabbas ! Dog ! Assassin 1" and the speaker dealt an
angry blow with his two fists at the dividing bars, " Art
thou deaf to good news? I tell thee there is some strife in
the city, some new sedition, it may be that our friends
have conquered where we have failed ! Down with the law I
Down with the tyrant and oppressor 1 Down with the Phar-
isees ! Down with everything !" And he laughed, his
laughter being little more than a hoarse whisper, " Barab-
bas ! We shall be free ! Free ! think of it, thou villain 1
A thousand curses on thee ! Art thou dead or sleeping that
thou wilt not answer me ?"
But he exhausted his voice in vain, and vainly beat his fists
against the grating. Barabbas was mute. The moonlight,
grown stronger, pierced the gloom of his cell with a silvery
radiance which blurred objects rather than illumined them,
so that the outline of his figure could scarcely be discerned
by his fellow-captive who strove to see him through the bars
of the lower dungeon. Meanwhile the noise of the crowd in
the streets outside had retreated into the distance, and only a
faint murmur arose from time to time like the far-off surge
of waves on a rocky shore.
" Barabbas 1 Barabbas 1" and the vexed weak voice grew
suddenly loud with an access of spite and fury " An' thou
wilt not respond to good tidings thou shalt listen to evil 1
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY U
Hear me ! hear thy friend Hanan, who knows the wicked
ways of women better than thou ! Why did'st thou kill the
Pharisee, thou fool ? 'Twas wasted pains, for his boast was
a true one, and thy Judith is a"
The opprobrious term he meant to use was never uttered,
for with a sudden spring, fierce and swift as that of an en-
raged lion leaping from its lair, the hitherto inert Barabbas
was upon him, clutching at the two hands he had thrust
through the grating to support himself, and squeezing and
bending them against the bars with a terrific ferocity that
threatened to snap the wrists asunder.
" Accursed Hanan ! Dog ! Breathe but her name again
and I will saw thy robber hands off on this blunt iron and
leave thee but the bleeding stumps wherewith to steal 1"
Face to face in the faintly moonlit gloom, and all but in-
visible to one another, they writhed and wrestled a little space
with strange impotence and equally strange fury, the chains
on their fettered arms clashing against the bars between, till
with a savage scream of pain, Hanan tore his maimed fingers
and lacerated wrists from the pitiless grasp that crushed them,
and fell helplessly downward into the darkness of his own
den, while Barabbas flung himself away and back on his bed
of straw, breathing hard and heavily, and shuddering through
every fibre of his frame.
" If it were true," he whispered between his set teeth
"if it were true, if she were false, if the fair flesh and
blood were but a mask for vileness, God ! she would be
worse than I, a greater sinner than I have ever been !"
He buried his head in the hollow of his arm and lay quite
still, striving to think out the problem of his own wild nature,
his own blind and unbridled passions. It was a riddle too
dark and difficult to solve easily, and gradually his mind
wandered, and his thoughts began to lose themselves in a
dizzy unconsciousness that was almost pleasure after so much
pain. His clenched hands relaxed, his breathing became
easier, and presently, heaving a deep sigh of exhaustion, he
stretched himself out on the straw like a tired hound and
slept.
The night marched on majestically. The moon and her
sister planets paced through their glorious circles of harmo-
nious light and law ; and from all parts of the earth, prayers
in every form and every creed went up to heaven for pity,
pardon, and blessing on sinful humanity that had neither
12 BARABBAS
pity, pardon, nor blessing for itself, till, with a magic sud-
denness the dense purple skies changed to a pearly grey,
the moon sank pallidly out of sight, the stars were extin-
guished one by one like lamps when a feast is ended, and
morning began to suggest its approach in the freshening air.
But Barabbas still slept. In his sleep he had unconsciously
turned his face upward to what glimmering light there was,
and a placid smile smoothed the fierce ruggedness of his
features. Slumbering thus, it was possible to imagine what
this unkempt and savage-looking creature might have been
in boyhood ; there was something of grace in his attitude
despite his fettered limbs, there were lines of tenderness
about his mouth, the curve of which could be just seen through
his rough beard ; and there was a certain grave beauty about
the broad brow and closed eyelids. Awake, he fully ap-
peared to be what he was, a rebellious and impenitent crimi-
nal, but in that perfect tranquillity of deep repose he might
have passed for a brave man wronged.
With the first faint light of the dawn, a sudden unwonted
stir and noise began in the outer courts of the prison. Ba-
rabbas, overpowered by slumber as he was, heard it in a semi-
conscious way, without realising what it might mean. But
presently, as it grew louder, he opened his eyes reluctantly,
and raising himself on one arm, listened. Soon he caught in
the distance the sound of clashing weapons and the steady
tramp of men, and while he yet wondered, vaguely and
sleepily, at the unusual commotion, the clashing and jangling
and marching drew nearer and nearer, till it came to an
abrupt halt outside his very cell. The key turned in the lock,
the huge bolts were thrust back, the door flew open, and
such a blaze of light flared in that he put up his hands to
shield his eyes as if from a blow. Blinking like a scared owl,
he roused himself and struggled into a sitting posture, staring
stupidly at what he saw, a group of glittering soldiery
headed by an officer who, holding a smoking torch aloft,
peered into the drear blackness of the dungeon with a search-
ing air of command.
" Come forth, Barabbas !"
Barabbas gazed and gazed, dreamily and without apparent
comprehension.
Just then a shrill voice yelled,
" I, also ! I, Hanan, am innocent! Bring me also before
the Tribunal 1 Give me justice ! Barabbas slew the Phari-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 13
Bee, not I ! The mercy of the Feast for Hanan ! Surely ye
will not take Barabbas hence and leave me here?"
No heed was paid to these clamourings, and the officer
merely repeated his command.
" Come forth, Barabbas !"
Growing more broadly awake, Barabbas stumbled up on his
feet and made an effort to obey, but his heavy chains pre-
vented his advance. Perceiving this, the officer gave order
to his men, and in a few minutes the impeding fetters were
struck off, and the prisoner was immediately surrounded by
the guard.
"Barabbas! Barabbas!" shrieked Hanan within.
Barabbas paused, looking vaguely at the soldiers who
pressed him in their midst. Then he turned his eyes upon
their commander.
" If I go to my death," he said faintly, " I pray thee give
yonder man food. He hath starved and thirsted all day and
night, and he was once my friend."
,.. The officer surveyed him somewhat curiously.
"Is that thy last request, Barabbas?" he inquired. "It
is Passover, and we will grant thee anything in reason 1"
He laughed, and his men joined in the laughter. But
Barabbas only stared straight ahead, his eyes looking like
those of a hunted animal brought to bay.
" Do thus much for charity," he muttered feebly ; " I have
also starved and thirsted, but Hanan is weaker than I."
Again the officer glanced at him, but this time deigned no
answer. Wheeling abruptly round he uttered the word of
command, placed himself at the head of his men, and the
whole troop, with Barabbas in their centre closely guarded,
strode onward and upward out of the dark dungeon precincts
to the higher floors of the building. And as they tramped
through the stone passages, they extinguished the torches
they carried, for the night was past and the morning had
14 BARABBAS
CHAPTER IIL
MARCHING into the courtyard of the prison, the party
halted there, while the heavy gates were being unfastened to
allow an exit. Outside was the street, the city, freedom !
and Barabbas, still staring ahead, uttered a hoarse cry and
put his manacled hands to his throat as though he were
choking.
"What ails thee?" demanded one of the men nearest
him, giving him a dig in the ribs with the hilt of his
weapon, " Stand up, fool ! Never tell me that a breath of
air can knock thee down like a felled bullock !"
For Barabbas reeled and would have fallen prone on the
ground insensible, had not the soldiers caught at his swaying
figure and dragged him up, roughly enough, and with much
coarse swearing. But his face had the pallor of death, and
through his ragged beard his lips could be seen, livid and
drawn apart over his clenched teeth like the lips of a corpse,
his breathing was scarcely perceptible.
The commander of the troop advanced and examined him.
" The man is starved," he said briefly, " Give him wine."
This order was promptly obeyed, and wine was held to the
mouth of the swooning captive, but his teeth were fast set
and he remained unconscious. Drop by drop however, the
liquid was ungently forced down his throat, and after a couple
of minutes, his chest heaved with the long laboured sighs of
returning vitality, and his eyes flashed widely open.
" Air, air!" he gasped, " The free air, the light"
He thrust out his chained hands gropingly, and then, with
a sudden rush of strength induced by the warmth of the
wine, he began to laugh wildly.
" Freedom 1" he exclaimed, " Freedom 1 To live or die,
what matter ! Free ! Free !"
" Hold thy peace, thou dog!" said the commanding officer
sharply " Who told thee thou wert free? Look at thy
fettered wrists and be wise 1 Watch him closely, men 1
March !"
The prison-gates fell back on their groaning hinges and
the measured 'tramp, tramp of the little troop awakened
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 15
echoes of metallic music as they defiled across the stony street
and passed down a steep flight of steps leading to a subter-
ranean passage which directly communicated with the tri-
bunal of justice or Hall of Judgment. This passage was a
long vaulted way, winding in and out through devious twists
and turnings, and was faintly lit up by oil lamps placed in
sconces at regular distances, the flickering luminance thus
given only making the native darkness of the place more pal-
pable. Gloom and imprisonment were as strongly suggested
here as in the dungeons left behind, and Barabbas, his
heart sickening anew with vain dread, shrank and shivered,
stumbling giddily once or twice as he strove to keep pace
with the steady march of his escort. Hope died within him ;
the flashing idea of liberty that had stirred him to such a
sudden rapture of anticipation, now fled like a dream. He
was being taken to his death ; of that he felt sure. What
mercy could he expect at the hands of the judge by whom
he knew he must be tried and condemned ? For was not
Pontius Pilate governor of Judaea ? and had not he, Barabbas,
slain, in a moment of unthinking fury, one of Pilate's friends ?
That accursed Pharisee ! His sleek manner, his self-right-
eous smile, his white hand with the glittering blazon of a
priceless jewel on the forefinger, and all the trifling details
of costume and deportment that went to make up the inso-
lent and aggressive personality of the man, these things
Barabbas remembered with a thrill of loathing. He could
almost see him as he saw him then, before with one fierce
stab he had struck him to the earth, dead, and bleeding hor-
ribly in the brilliant moonlight, his wide open eyes glaring to
the last in dumb and dreadful hate upon his murderer. And
a life must always be given for a life ; Barabbas admitted the
stern justice of this law. It was only what he knew to be
the ordained manner of death for such criminals as he, that
caused his nerves to wince with fear and agony. If, like the
Pharisee, he could be struck out of existence in a moment,
why, that were naught, but to be stretched on beams of
wood there to blister for long hours in the pitiless sun, to
feel every sinew strained to cracking, and every drop of blood
turning first to fire and then to ice, this was enough to
make the strongest man shudder ; and Barabbas, weakened
by long fasting and want of air, trembled so violently at
times that he could scarcely drag his limbs along. His head
swam and his eyes smarted ; there were dull noises in his ears
16 B ARABS AS
caused partly by the surging "blood in his brain, and partly by
the echo of a sound which with every onward step grew
more distinct, a clamour of angry voices and shouting in
the midst of which he fancied he heard his own name,
" Barabbas ! Barabbas 1"
Startled, he looked inquiringly into the faces of the soldiers
that surrounded him, but their impassive bronze-like features
betrayed no intelligence. Vainly he strove to listen more at-
tentively, the clanking weapons of his guard and the meas-
ured thud of their feet on the stone pavement prevented him
from catching the real purport of those distant outcries. Yet
surely, surely there was another shout
" Barabbas ! Barabbas !"
A sickening horror suddenly seized him, a swift and
awful comprehension of his true position. The mob, relent-
less in all ages, were evidently clamouring for his death, and
were even now preparing to make sport of his torments.
Nothing more glorious to a brutal populace than the physical
agony of a helpless fellow-creature, nothing more laughter-
moving than to watch the despair, the pain, and the writhing
last struggle of a miserable human wretch condemned to
perish by a needlessly slow and barbarous torture. Thinking
of this, great drops of sweat bathed his brow, and as he
staggered feebly on, he prayed dumbly for some sudden end,
prayed that his hot and throbbing blood might rush in
merciful full force to a vital centre of his brain that so he
might fall into oblivion swiftly like a stone falling into the
sea. Anything anything, rather than face the jeers and
the mockery of a pitiless multitude trooping forth as to a
feast to see him die !
Closer and closer came the hubbub and roar, interspersed
with long pauses of comparative stillness, and it was during
one of these pauses that his enforced journey came to an end.j
Turning sharply round the last corner of the underground,
passage, the soldiers tramped out into the daylight, and as-
cended several wide marble steps, afterwards crossing an
open circular court, empty and cool in the silver-grey hues
of early dawn. Finally passing under a columnar arch, they
entered a vast Hall, which was apparently divided into two
square spaces, one almost clear, save for a few prominent
figures that stood forth in statuesque outlines against a back-
ground of dark purple hangings fringed with gold, the
other densely crowded with people who were only kept from
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 17
rushing into the judicial precincts by a line of Roman
soldiery headed by their centurion.
On the appearance of Barabbas with his armed escort,
heads were turned round and hurried whispers were ex-
changed among the crowd, but not one look of actual interest
or compassion was bestowed upon him. The people's mind
was centred on a far weightier matter. Such a trial was
pending as had never yet been heard within the walls of a
human tribunal, and such a captive was being questioned as
never before gave answer to mortal man. With a sudden
sense of relief, Barabbas, stupefied though he was, began
dimly to realise that perhaps after all his terrors had been
groundless ; there was no sign here, at least, not at present,
of his death being wanted to make an extra holiday for the
mob, and, infected by the prevailing spirit of intense cusiosity
and attention, he craned his neck forward eagerly in order
to obtain a view of what was going on. As he did so, the
people directly in front of him shrank away in evident
aversion, but he paid little heed to this mutely expressed
repugnance, as their unanimous recoil made a convenient
opening through which he could plainly see the judgment
dais and all its imposing surroundings. There were seated
several members of the Sanhedrim, several o/ whom he
knew by sight, among them the high-priest Caiaphas, and
his colleague Annas, a few scribes occupied lower benches
and were busily engaged in writing, and among these digni-
fied and exalted personages, he perceived, to his astonishment,
a little lean, wrinkled, crouching money-changer, a man well
known and cursed throughout all Jerusalem for his high
rates of usury and cruelty to the poor. How came so mean
a villain there ? thought Barabbas wonderingly ; but he could
not stop to puzzle out the problem, for the chief person his
eyes involuntarily sought for and rested upon was the Roman
judge, that very judge of whose stern sad face he had
dreamed in the darkness of his dungeon, Pilate the calm,
severe, yet at times compassionate arbiter of life and death
according to the codes of justice administered in Judaea.
Surely to-day he suffered, or was weary ! for did ever legal
" tyrant" before look so sick at heart ? In the grey morning
light his features seemed to have an almost death-like rigidity
and pallor his hand played absently with the jewelled signet
depending from his breast, and beneath the falling folds of
his robe of office, one sandalled foot beat impatiently upon
6 2*
18 BARABBAS
the floor. Barabbas stared at him in dull fascination and
f ear> he did not look a cruel so much as a melancholy man,
and yet there was something in his classic profile, and in
the firm lines of his thin closely compressed lips that augured
little softness of character. What was likely to be his
verdict on an assassin who had slain one of his friends?
And while Barabbas vaguely pondered this, an irrepressible
cry rose up all at once frwm the multitude around him, like
the noise of breaking waters roaring in thunderous repeti-
tions through the vaulted Hall,
" Crucify him ! Crucify him !"
The wild shout was furious and startling, and with, its
thrilling clamour, the lethargic torpor that had held Barabbas
more or less spell-bound was suddenly dispersed. With a
swift shock he came to himself like one roughly shaken from
sleep.
" Crucify him !"
Crucify whom? Whose life was thus passionately de-
manded ? Not his ? No, not his, most surely, for the people
scarcely heeded him. Their looks were all turned another
way. Then if he were not the offender, who was ?
Pushing himself yet more to the front, he followed the
angry glances of the mob and saw, standing patiently below
the judgment-seat one Figure, saw, and seeing, held his
breath for very wonderment. For that Figure seemed to
absorb into itself all the stateliness, all the whiteness, all the
majesty of the lofty and spacious Tribunal, together with all
the light that fell glimmeringly through the shining windows,
light that now began to form itself into the promise rays
of the rising sun. Such radiance, such power, such glorious
union of perfect beauty and strength in one human form,
Barabbas had never seen or imagined before, and he gazed
and gazed till his soul almost lost itself in the mere sense of
sight. Like one in a trance he heard himself whisper
"Who is yonder Man?"
No one answered. It may be no one heard. And he re-
peated the query softly over and over again in his own mind,
keeping his eyes fixed on that tall and god-like Being whose
sublime aspect seemed to imply an absolute mastery over men
and things, but who nevertheless waited there silently in
apparent submission to the law, with a slight dreamy smile
on the beautiful curved lips, and a patient expression in the
down-dropt eyelids, as of one who mutely expected the publio
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 19
declaration of what he had himself privately decreed. Still
as a statue of sunlit marble He stood, erect and calm, His
white garments flowing backward from His shoulders in even
picturesque folds, thus displaying His bare rounded arms,
crossed now on His breast in a restful attitude of resignation,
yet in their very inertness suggesting such mighty muscular
force as would have befitted a Hercules. Power, grandeur,
authority, and invincible supremacy were all silently expressed
in His marvellous and incomparable Presence, and while
Barabbas still stared, fascinated, awed, and troubled in mind,
though he knew not why, the shouts of the populace broke
forth again with hoarser reiteration and more impatient fe-
rocity,
" Away with him ! Away with him ! Let him be cruci-
fied !"
And far back from the edge of the crowd, a woman's voice,
sweet and shrill and piercing, soared up and rang out with a
cruel music over all the deeper uproar,
" Crucify him 1 Crucify him !"
CHAPTER IV.
THE clear vibration of the woman's cry acted like a strange
charm to stimulate afresh the already feverish excitement of
the people. A frenzied hubbub ensued, shrieks, yells,
groans, and hisses filled the air, till the noise became abso-
lutely deafening, and Pilate, with an angry and imperious
gesture suddenly rose and faced the mob. Advancing to the
front of the dais, he lifted up his hand authoritatively to
command silence. Gradually the din decreased, dying off in
little growling thuds of sound down to a few inaudible mut-
terings, though before actual stillness was restored, the sweet
soprano voice rang forth again melodiously, broken by a bub-
bling ripple of laughter,
"Crucify him !"
Barabbas started. That silvery laugh struck to his heart
coldly and made him shiver, surely he had heard an echo of
such scornful mirth before? It sounded bitterly familiar.
Pilate's keen eyes flashed a vain search for the unseen speaker,
20
BARABBAS
then, turning towards the people with an air of pacific
dignity, he demanded,
" Why, what evil hath he done ?"
This simple question was evidently ill-timed, and had a
disastrous effect. The sole answer to it was a bellowing roar
of derision, a thunderous clamour of wild rage that seemed
to shake the very walls of the Tribunal. Men, women, and
little children alike joined in the chorus of " Crucify him !
Crucify him 1" and the savage refrain was even caught up by
the high-priests, elders, and scribes, who, in their various dis-
tinctive costumes and with their several attendants, were
grouped behind Pilate on the judgment dais. Pilate heard
them, and turned sharply round, a dark frown knitting his
brows. Caiaphas, the chief priest, met his eyes with a bland
smile, and repeated under his breath "Crucify him!" as
though it were a pleasing suggestion.
" Of a truth it were well he should die the death," mur-
mured Annas, his portly colleague, casting a furtive glance at
Pilate from under his pale eyelashes ; " The worthy governor
seemeth to hesitate, yet verily this traitor is no friend of
Caesar's."
Pilate vouchsafed no answer save a look of supreme and
utter scorn. Shrugging his shoulders, he re-seated himself
and gazed long and earnestly at the Accused. " What evil
hath he done ?" It might have been more justly asked, what
evil could He do ? Was there any mark of vileness, any line
of treachery on the open beauty of that fair and lustrous
Countenance? No. Nobleness and truth were eloquently
declared in every feature ; moreover there was something in
the silent Presence of the Prisoner that made Pilate tremble,
something unspoken yet felt, a vast and vague Mystery
that seemed to surround and invest Him with a power all the
more terrific because so deeply hidden. And while the
troubled procurator studied His calm and dignified bearing,
and wondered doubtfully what course it were best to pursue,
Barabbas from his coign of vantage stared eagerly in the
same direction, growing more and more conscious of an un-
usual and altogether wonderful fascination in the aspect of
this Man the people sought to slay. And presently his vivid
curiosity gave him courage to address one of the soldiers near
him.
"Prithee tell me," said he, "what captive King stands
yonder?"
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 21
The soldier gave a short contemptuous laugh.
" King ! Ay, ay ! He calls himself King of the Jews,
a sorry jest, for which his life will pay forfeit. He is
naught but a carpenter's son, known as Jesus of Nazareth.
He hath stirred up rebellion, and persuadeth the mob to dis-
obey law. Moreover he consorteth with the lowest rascals,
thieves and publicans and sinners. He hath a certain skill
in conjuring; the people say he can disappear suddenly when
most sought for. But he made no attempt to disappear last
night, for we trapped him easily, close by Gethsemane. One
of his own followers betrayed him. Some there be who deem
him mad, some say he hath a devil. Devil or no, he is
caught at last and must surely die."
Barabbas heard in incredulous amazement. That royal-
looking Personage a carpenter's son? a common working-
man, and one of the despised Nazarenes? No, no! it was
not possible ! Then, by degrees he began to remember that
before he, Barabbas, had been cast into prison for robbery
and murder, there had been strange rumours afloat in the
country of Judaea, concerning one Jesus, a miracle-worker,
who went about healing the sick and the infirm, giving sight
to the blind, and preaching a new religion to the poor. It
was even asserted that He had on one occasion raised a man
named Lazarus from the dead after three days' burial in the
ground, but this astounding report was promptly suppressed
and contradicted by certain scribes in Jerusalem who made
themselves generally responsible for the current news. The
country people were known to be ignorant and superstitious,
and any one possessing what was called " the gift of healing"
in provinces where all manner of loathsome physical evils
abounded, could obtain undue and almost supernatural influ-
ence over the miserable and down-trodden inhabitants. Yet
surely if this Man were He of whom rumour had spoken,
then there seemed no reason to doubt the truth of the miracu-
lous powers attributed to Him. He was Himself an em-
bodied Miracle. And what were His powers actually ? Much
had been said concerning the same Jesus of Nazareth of
which Barabbas had no distinct recollection. His eighteen
months of imprisonment had obliterated many things from
his memory, and what he had chiefly brooded upon in his
dreary dungeon had been his own utter misery, and the tor-
turing recollection of one fair woman's face. Now, strange
to say, he could find no room for any thought at all, save the
22 BARABBAS
impending fate of Him on whom Ms eyes were fixed. And
as he looked, it seemed to him that all suddenly the judgment-
hall expanded hugely and swam round in a circle of oright
flame through which he saw that angelic white Figure shine
forth with a thousand radiations of lightning-like glory ! A
faint cry of terror broke from his lips,
"No, no!" he stammered "No, I tell you! You can-
not, you dare not crucify Him ! Yonder is a Spirit ! . . .
no man ever looked so ... He is a god ! "
As he uttered the word, one of the Roman soldiers hearing,
turned and struck him fiercely on the mouth with his steel
gauntlet.
" Fool, be silent ! Wilt thou too be one of his disciples ?"
Wincing with pain, Barabbas strove to wipe the trickling
blood from his lips with his fettered hands, and as he did so,
caught a straight full look from the so-called Jesus of Naza-
reth. The pity and the tenderness of that look pierced him
to the soul ; no living being had ever given him a glance so
instantly comprehensive and sympathetic. With a quick
reckless movement, he thrust himself more to the front of
the crowd to gain a closer view of One who could so gently
regard him. A passionate impulse of gratitude moved him
to rush across the whole width of the hall, and fling himself
in all his rough brute strength in front of this new-found
Friend to serve as a human buckler of defence in case of
need. But bristling weapons guarded him, and he was too
closely surrounded for escape. Just at that moment, one of
the scribes, a tall lean man in sober-coloured raiment, rose
from his place in the semi-circle of priests and elders grouped
on the judicial platform, and, unfolding a parchment scroll,
began to read in a monotonous voice the various heads of the
indictment against the Accused. These had been hastily
summed up by the Sanhedrim, during the brief trial which
had taken place in the house of Caiaphas the high-priest on
the previous evening. A great stillness now reigned in lieu
of the previous uproar ; a deep hush of suspense and atten-
tion, in which the assembled mob seemed to wait and pant
with expectation, as a crouching beast waits and pants for its
anticipated prey. Pilate listened frowningly, one hand cover-
ing his eyes. During the occasional pauses in the scribe's
reading, the noise of traffic in the outside stony streets made
itself distinctly audible, and once the sound of a little child's
Voice singing came floating merrily upward like the echo of
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 23
a joy-bell. The skies were changing rapidly from pearl-grey
hues to rose and daffodil ; the sun was high above the hori-
zon, but its light had not yet found a way through the lofty
windows of the judgment-hall. It beamed on the crowd be-
yond the barrier with iridescent flashes of colour, now flash-
ing on a red erchief tying up a woman's hair, or on the
glittering steel corslet of a Roman soldier, while the Tribunal
itself was left in cold and unillumined whiteness, relieved only
by the velvet hangings pertaining to it, which in their sombre
purple tint suggested the falling folds of a funeral pall.
The reading of the indictment finished, Pilate still remained
silent for some minutes. Then, lifting his hand from his
eyes, he surveyed, somewhat satirically, his companions in
authority.
" Ye have brought me this man as one that perverteth the
people," he said slowly. " What accusation bring ye against
him ?"
Caiaphas, and Annas, who was then vice-president of the
Sanhedrim, exchanged wondering and half indignant glances.
Finally Caiaphas, with an expression of offended dignity,
looked around appealingly upon his compeers.
"Surely ye have all heard the indictment," he said, "And
the worthy governor's question seemeth but vain in this mat-
ter. What need we of further witnesses ? If yonder man
were not a malefactor would we have brought him hither?
He hath blasphemed ; for last night we did solemnly adjure
him in the name of the living God, to declare unto us
whether he were the Christ, the Son of the Blessed, and he
answered boldly and said ' / am I And hereafter ye shall see
the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of Power and coming
in the clouds of heaven!' What think ye? Is he not
worthy of death?"
An emphatic murmur of assent went round the semi-circle
of the priests and elders. But Pilate gave a gesture of con-
tempt and flung himself restlessly back on the judgment-seat.
"Ye talk in parables, and do perplex the ends of justice.
If he himself saith he is the Son of Man, how do ye make
him out to be the Son of God?"
Caiaphas flushed an angry red, and was about to make
some retort, but on a moment's reflection, suppressed his feel-
ings and proceeded, smiling cynically
" Of a truth thou art in merciful mood, Pilate, and thine
Emperor will not blame thee for too much severity of rule !
24 ' BARABBAS
In our law, the sinner that blasphemeth shall surely die.
Yet if blasphemy be not a crime in thy judgment, what of
treason ? Witnesses there are who swear that this man hath
said it is not lawful to give tribute unto Caesar ; moreover he
is an evil boaster, for he hath arrogantly declared that he will
destroy the Holy Temple. Yea verily, even unto the Holy
of Holies itself, he saith he will destroy, so that not one stone
shall remain upon another, and in three days, without the
help of hands, he will build up a new and greater tabernacle !
Such mad ranting doth excite the minds of the populace to
rebellion, moreover he deceiveth the eyes of the vulgar and
uninstracted by feigning to perform great miracles when all
is but trickery and dissimulation. Finally, he hath entered
Jerusalem in state as a King ;" here he turned to his col-
league in office " Thou, Annas, can' st speak of this, for thou
wert present when the multitude passed by."
Annas, thus appealed to, moved a little forward, pressing
his hands together, and casting down his pale-coloured treach-
erous eyes with a deferential air of apologetic honesty.
" Truly it would seem that a pestilence in this man's shape
doth walk abroad to desolate and disaffect the province," said
he, " For I myself beheld the people, when this traitor en-
tered the city by the road of Bethphage and Bethany, rush
forth to meet him with acclamations, strewing palm-branches,
olive-boughs, and even their very garments in his path, as
though he were a universal conqueror of men.* And shouts
of triumph rent the air, for the multitude received him both
as prophet and king, crying ' Hosanna ! Blessed is he that
cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest?
Whereat I marvelled greatly, and being troubled in^ mind,
returned unto Caiaphas to tell him straightway those things
which I had seen and heard concerning the strange frenzy of
the mob which of a surety is dangerous to the maintenance of
law and order. 'Tis an unseemly passion of the vulgar to
thus salute with royal honour one of the accursed Nazarenes."
"Is he in truth a Nazarene?" inquired one of the elders
suddenly, with a dubious air, " I have heard it said that
he was born in Bethlehem of Judaea, and that the late King
Herod was told of certain marvels at his birth"
" An idle rumour," interrupted Annas hastily ; " We took
him before the tetrarch yesternight, where, had he chosen, he
could have made his own defence. For Herod asked him
many questions wlriih he could not or would not answer, till
A DREAM. OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 25
the noble tetrarch's patience failing, he sent him on to Pilate
to be sentenced. He is known to be of Nazareth, for his
parents have their home and calling in the village so named."
Pilate listened, but said nothing. He was ill at ease. The
statements of Caiaphas and Annas seemed to him a mere
babble of words without meaning. He was entirely opposed
to the members of the Sanhedrim ; he knew they were men
who chiefly sought their own interest and advancement, and
he also knew that the real cause of their having denounced
the so-called " prophet of Nazareth," was fear, fear of
having their theories shaken, their laws questioned, and their
authority over the people denied. He saw in the dignified
Prisoner before him, one, who, whatever He was, or wherever
He came from, evidently thought for Himself. Nothing
more terrorising to sacerdotal tyranny than liberty of thought !
nothing more dangerous than freedom of conscience and
indifference to opinion ! Pilate himself was afraid, but not
with the same dread as that which affected the Jewish priests,
his misgivings were vague and undefined, and all the more
difficult to overcome. He was strangely reluctant to even
look at the " Nazarene," whose tall and radiant form appeared
to shine with an inward and supernatural light amid the cold
austerity of the judicial surroundings, and he kept his eyes
down, fixed on the floor, the while he hesitatingly pondered
his position. But time pressed, the Sanhedrim council were
becoming impatient, he was at last compelled to act and to
speak, and slowly turning round in his chair he fully con-
fronted the Accused, who at the same instant lifted His noble
head and met the anxious, scrutinising regard of His judge
with an open look of fearless patience and infinite tenderness.
Meeting that look, Pilate trembled, but anon, forcing him-
self to assume an air of frigid composure, he spoke aloud in
grave authoritative accents :
" Answerest thon nothing? Hearest thou not how many
things are witnessed against thee ? '
Then and only then, the hitherto immovable white-robed
Figure stirred, and advancing with slow and regal grace,
approached Pilate more nearly, still looking at him. One
bright ray of the risen sun fell slantingly through a side-
window and glistened star-like on the bronze-gold of the rich
hair that clustered in thick waves upon His brow, and as He
kept His shining eyes upon His judge, He smiled serenely
even as one who pardons a sin before hearing its confession.
26 BARABBAS
But no word passed His lips. Pilate recoiled, an icy cold
chilled the blood in his veins, involuntarily he rose, and fell
back step by step, grasping at the carved gold projections of
his judicial throne to steady his faltering limbs, for there was
something in the quiet onward gliding of that snowy-gar-
mented Shape that filled his soul with dread, and suggested
to his mind old myths and legends of the past, when Deity
appearing suddenly to men, had consumed them in a breath
with the lightning of great glory. And that one terrific
moment while he stood thus face to face with the Divine Ac-
cused seemed to him an eternity. It was a never-to-be-for-
gotten space of time in which all his life, past and present,
appeared reflected as a landscape is reflected in a drop of dew,
moreover, the premonition of a future, dark and desolate,
loomed indistinctly upon his mind, like a shadow on the hori-
zon. All unconsciously to himself his countenance paled to
a ghastly haggardness, and scarcely knowing what he did, he
raised his hands appealingly as though to avert some great
and crushing blow. The learned Jews who were grouped
around him stared at his terror-stricken attitude in wonder-
ment, and exchanged glances of vexation and dismay, while
one of the elders, a dark- eyed crafty- visaged man, leaned for-
ward hastily and touched him on the shoulder, saying in a
low tone
"What ails thee, Pilate? Surely thou art smitten with
palsy, or some delusion numbs thy senses ! Hasten, we be-
seech thee, to pronounce sentence, for the hours wear on
apace, and at this season of the Passover, 'twere well and
seemly that thou should'st give the multitude their will.
What is this malefactor unto thee ? Let him be crucified,
for he is guilty of treason, since he calls himself a King.
Full well thou knowest we have no King but Caesar, yet
yonder fellow boldly saith he is King of the Jews. Ques-
tion him, whether or no he hath not thus boasted falsely of
power !"
Pilate gazed round at his adviser bewilderedly, he felt as
though he were entangled in the mazes of an evil dream
where demons whispered dark hints of unworded crimes.
Sick and cold to the very heart, he. yet realised that he must
make an effort to interrogate the Prisoner as he was bidden,
and, moistening his parched lips, he at last succeeded in
enunciating the necessary query, albeit his accents were so
faint and husky as to be scarcely audible.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 27
"Art thou the King of the Jews .*"
An intense silence followed. Then a full, penetrating
Voice, sweeter than sweetest music, stirred the air.
" Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee
of me?"
Pilate's face flushed, and his hand grasped the back of his
chair convulsively. He gave a gesture of impatience, and
answered abruptly, yet tremulously,
" Am I a Jew f TJiine own nation and the chief priests
have delivered thee unto me ; what hast thou done ? ' '
A light as of some inward fire irradiated the deep lustrous
eyes of the " Nazarene ;" a dreamy, meditative smile parted
His lips. Looking so, and smiling thus, His glorious aspect
made the silence eloquent, and Pilate's authoritative demand
" What hast thou done ?" seemed answered without speech.
And the voiceless response might have been rendered into
words like these,
" What have I done ? I have made Life sweet, and robbed
Death of bitterness ; there is honour for men and tenderness
for women ; there is hope for all, Heaven for all, God for
all ! and the lesson of Love, Love divine and human as
personified in Me, sanctifies the Earth for ever through My
Name!"
But these great facts remained unuttered, for, as yet they
were beyond dull mortal comprehension, and, with the faint
dreamy smile still giving a poetic languor of deep thought to
every line of His countenance, the Accused answered slowly,
every word He spoke vibrating melodiously through the still-
" My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were
of this world then would my servants fight that I should not
be delivered to the Jews. But now is my kingdom not from
hence ! " <
And, drawing His majestic figure up to its full height,
He raised His head and looked up towards the loftiest window
of the Hall, now glittering diamond-like in the saffron-tinted
rays of the swiftly ascending sun. His attitude was so un-
speakably grand and suggestive of power, that Pilate again
recoiled, with that sickening sense of helpless terror clutch-
ing at his heart anew. He stole a furtive and anxious glance
at the chief priests and elders, who were leaning forward on
their benches listening attentively, they all appeared un-
moved and coldly indifferent. Caiaphas smiled satirically
28 HARABBAS
and exchanged a side-whisper with Annas, but otherwise no
one volunteered to speak. Sorely against his will, Pilate
continued his examination. Feigning an unconcern he was
far from feeling, he asked his next question half carelessly,
half kindly,
" Art thou a King, then?"
With a sublime gesture, the Accused flashed one burning
glance upon all who waited breathlessly for His reply, then
looked straightly and steadily, full into Pilate's eyes.
" Thou sayest!"
And, as he uttered the words, the sun, climbing to the
topmost arch of the opposite window, beamed through it in
a round blaze of glory, and flooded the judgment-hall with
ripples of gold and crimson, circling the Divine brows with a
glittering rainbow radiance as though the very heavens had
set their crown and signet upon the splendour of a Truth
revealed I
CHAPTER V.
THERE was a moment's pause.
Pilate sat dumb and irresolute, but among the assembled
members of the Sanhedrim there ran various broken mur-
murs of indignation and impatience. " What need we of fur-
ther vritness ?" " He is convicted out of his own mouth !"
"He hath spoken treason!" " Let him die the death!"
The sunlight, showering its prolific gold on the white gar-
ments of the Prisoner, flashed into prismatic glimmerings now
and again as though it had encountered some other light
with which it joyously played and harmonised. And Pilate's
sight grew misty and strained, his temples throbbed and
ached. He was tired, confused, pained, and perplexed ; the
extraordinary beauty of the Figure confronting him was too
singularly unique to be otherwise than powerfully impressive,
and he knew as thoroughly as ever mortal judge knew any-
thing, that to condemn this Man to a hideous and unmerited
death would be to commit a crime the consequences of which
he could not quite foresee, but which he instinctively dreaded.
He was perfectly aware of the active part the high-priests
Caiaphas and Annas had played in the work of hunting down
the " Nazarene" and bringing Him before the Tribunal, and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 29
he also realised the manner in which they had laid their
plans. A certain wild and lawless young man named Is-
cariot, the only son of his father, had banded himself with
the disciples of this Jesus of Nazareth, and the elder Is-
cariot, a wealthy usurer, was a close friend and confidant of
Caiaphas. It was therefore not difficult to perceive how the
father, prompted by the high-priest, and himself displeased at
his son's sudden fanaticism for a stranger, had brought all
the weight of religious and parental authority to bear in per-
suading the young man to give up his so-called " Master" to
justice. There were other far more deeply hidden motives
than these of which Pilate was ignorant, but what little he
knew, or thought he knew, was sufficient to make him dis-
trust the unsupported witness of the priests and elders alone.
Pondering the matter within himself a while, he presently
turned to the council and demanded,
" Where is Iscariot?"
Anxious looks were exchanged, but no reply was offered.
" Ye tell me it was he who brought the guard to where
this Nazarene lay hidden," proceeded Pilate slowly "An'
he hath taken so chief a part in the capture, he should be
here. I would fain know what he hath to say concerning the
doings of the man whom first he chose to follow and then
forsake. Let him be brought before me."
Annas leaned forward with an air of apologetic servility.
" The young man hath fled from the city out of fear," said
he ; " he hath been seized with some fool's panic, for lo, he
came to us at late midnight, madly bemoaning his sins and
bringing back the silver which we had given him as guerdon
for his service and obedience to the law. Some evil fever
surely worked within his blood, for while we yet gently rea-
soned with him in hope to calm his frenzy, all suddenly he
dashed the money down before us in the Temple and departed
in haste, we know not whither."
" Strange !" muttered Pilate abstractedly. The absence of
Iscariot from the present scene of trial vexed him sorely.
He had a strong desire to ask the man who had betrayed his
Master the cause of his sudden disaffection, and now that this
was impossible, he felt more jaded and worn-out than before.
His head swam, and in the confused trouble of his mind, a
great darkness seemed to grow up out of the air and envelop
him swiftly and resistlessly. And in that darkness he fancied
he saw a ring of fire which swung round and round like a
3*
30 BARABBAS
rolling wheel, becoming narrower with every rotation and
binding him in closely as with a burning zone. The horrible
sensation increased, stifling his breath and blinding his eyes
till he felt he must leap from his chair and cry aloud in order
to save himself from suffocation, when, all at once, his
nameless inward suffering ceased, a cool breath seemed to
be wafted across his brow, and looking up, he saw that the
deep and loving gaze of the Accused was fastened upon him
with an infinity of tenderness and pity that opened to him, as
it were, a new and exquisite and wondrous sense of life and
limitless desire. For that one moment all his perplexities
were swept away, and his course seemed clear. Turning
to the chief priests and elders he said in firm emphatic
tones,
"I find no fault in this man ! "
His words were received with a general movement of in-
dignation, and Caiaphas losing all his wonted dignity, rose up
in wrath exclaiming loudly,
" No fault ! No fault ? Art thou mad, Pilate ? He stir-
reth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry , beginning
from Galilee to this place"
"And look you," interposed Annas, craning his thin neck
and ill-favoured visage forward, " He consorteth with none
but outcasts, publicans and sinners, and against all the virtu-
ous he pronounceth openly the damnation of hell. Here sit-
teth the Rabbi Micha who hath heard him make outcry in
the public streets, and hath taken note of certain sayings
wherewith he seeketh to mislead the people. For he is one
that perverteth truth while feigning most boldly to proclaim
it. Speak, Micha, for it seemeth that the worthy governor
needeth more witness than ours against this rogue and blas-
phemer."
Micha, an elderly Jew, with a keen, dark, withered face
and hard cold eyes, rose at once and drew a set of tablets from
his breast.
" These words," said he in a dry even tone, " are veritably
set down here as I received them with mine own ears while
standing in the Temple itself. For this misguided and fanat-
ical young man hesitated not to preach his unscrupulous
theories in the established place of holy doctrine. Judge ye
for yourselves whether such language be not violent," and
bringing his memoranda close to his eyes, he read slowly
"Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 31
shut up the kingdom of heaven against men, and ye neither
go in yourselves, nor suffer them that are entering to go in.
li Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites I for ye
devour widows' houses, for pretence making long prayer,
therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation.
" Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye
compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is
made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than your-
selves !
" Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees ! hypocrites ! for ye
are lilce unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beau-
tiful outward, but are within full of dead mens bones and
all uncleanness.
" Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape
the damnation of hell!"
Here pausing, Micha looked up.
" Of a truth," he remarked in the same monotone, "for
one whom the country folk strive to screen by the spreading
of false rumours concerning his gentle and harmless charac-
ter, such words as these are mere raving devilry, and full of
bitterness, spite, and malice prepense, set forth as wilful on-
slaughts upon those who do maintain virtue, law, and order.
Little gentleness will ye find in them, but much misguided
vanity and spleen."
A slight dawning smile lifted the rigid corners of Pilate's
stern mouth. In his heart he secretly admired the magnifi-
cent physical aud moral courage of a man who could boldly
enter the Temple itself and thus plainly and publicly denounce
hypocrisy in the very place where it was most practised.
" I tell thee, good Micha. and thou, Caiaphas, and Annas
also," he said decisively, " I find no fault in him at all, touch-
ing those things whereof ye accuse him. No, nor yet Herod,
for ye went to him last night, and lo, nothing worthy of
death is found in him"
" Stay, noble Pilate ! listen to me /" interrupted a queru-
lous, cracked voice, and the little ape-like figure of the old
usurer whom Barabbas had, to his surprise, perceived occu-
pying a prominent place on one of the judgment-benches,
rose up in tremulous excitement " Listen I pray thee ! for
art not thou set here to administer justice to the wronged and
oppressed in Judaea? Look you, most excellent sir! this
malefactor, this accursed devil, this vile traitor and deceiver"
here the wrinkled old wretch gasped and sputtered for
32 BARABBAS
breath in the sheer extremity of rage, " this pretended
prophet came insolently into the Temple two days agone and
saw me there at my accustomed place, thou knowest, noble
Pilate, I am an honest poor man ! and lo, like a furious
madman he seized me, ay, and he hath a clutch like iron !
and taking up a whip of knotted cords scourged me, great
Pilate ! scourged me, me!" and his voice rose to a shrill yell
of fury " out of the holy place ! And his mouth was full
of blasphemy and cursing, for be said, ' My house is called
the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves /'
Mark that, worthy Pilate ! he did claim the very Temple as
his own, even as he hath claimed to be King of the Jews, and
hath sought to reign over all Judaea. Crucify him, noble
governor ! crucify him in the name of God ! And scourge
him ! scourge him till the proud and sinful blood flows in
torrents from his veins ! scourge him, for he hath scourged
one of the children of Levi, yea, he hath scourged me, even
me! 1 ' Here he stopped, half choked with malice and fury,
while Pilate regarded him, coldly smiling.
" Verily, Zacharias, thou tellest me of one good service
this man hath rendered the state," he said, deliberately
"Long hast thou merited a whipping, and that thou hast at
last received it will help to satisfy some few of thy money
clients in Jerusalem !" An involuntary murmur of approving
laughter broke from some of the members of the council, but
was quickly suppressed as the high-priest frowned darkly upon
the offenders. Zacharias shrank back, scowling and mutter-
ing, while Pilate calmly continued " More than ever am I
persuaded that there is no evil in this youthful preacher to
the poor, and no fault at all worthy of death, wherefore as ye
have a custom at this Feast requiring the liberation of a
prisoner, I will release him unto you and let him go."
"The multitude will rend thee, Pilate, for an act so im-
politic !" exclaimed Caiaphas hotly " What ! shall an inno-
cent man like this aged Zacharias, who hath no fault save the
common fault of his trade, be publicly scourged, and thou
the governor of Judaea find no remedy ? Thou art no friend
to Caesar if thou let this man go. Moreover they demand
the release of Barabbas, who hath been imprisoned for more
than a year, and whose sin of rebellion was one of impulse,
not of malignant intention. He hath been brought hither by
my order, and waits below the barrier, guarded, but prepared
for freedom."
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 33
" Then he is ill prepared !" declared Pilate sharply " For
by all the gods of Rome he shall be crucified 1 Freedom for
Barabbas ? Have ye no memory ? Did he not raise an in-
surrection against Roman law, and harangue the people in the
open streets far more wildly and arrogantly than this harm-
less Nazarene hath done? And did he not slay all unpro-
vokedly one of your own tribe, Gabrias the Pharisee, a man
of excellent learning and renown ? Go to ! Envy doth
prompt ye to demand the nobler life and give liberty to the
vile, and ye have sorely misguided the mob in this matter.
But now will I myself address them, and release unto them
him whom they call King of the Jews."
And, rising from his chair he prepared to descend from the
Tribunal. Caiaphas made a hasty step forward as though to
prevent his movements, but Pilate waved him aside disdain-
fully, and he stood rooted to the spot, the picture of baffled
rage and dismay, his thin white hands nervously clenched,
and the great jewel on his breast heaving up and down with
the passionate quickness of his breathing. Annas sat still
in his place, utterly taken aback by the governor's decision,
and stared fixedly in front of him as though he found it diffi-
cult to believe the evidence of his senses. Zacharias the
money-lender alone pave violent vent to his feelings by throw-
ing up his hands wildly in the air and anon beating his breast,
the while he loudly bewailed himself
" Ai ! ai ! There is no justice left in Jerusalem ! Woe,
woe unto the children of Abraham who are ground down be-
neath the iron heel of Rome ! Woe unto us who are made
the spoil of the heathen tyrant and oppressor!"
And as he thus raved and rocked his lean body to and fro,
the Divine Prisoner suddenly turned and regarded him steadily.
A rapid change came over his wicked features, he ceased
yelling, and drawing himself together in a wrinkled heap
till he looked like some distorted demon, he began to mutter
curses in a thick whisper that was more awful than any au-
dible speech. The "Nazarene" watched him for a moment,
a noble wrath clouding the fairness of His brows, but the
shadow of righteous indignation passed even more swiftly
than it had come, leaving His face serene and smiling and
patient as before. Only the bright pure Eyes were more
steadily uplifted to the sunlight, as though they sought to
drink in glory for sustenance. Meanwhile, an old, white-
bearded man, a prominent and much-respected member of the
34 SARABBAS
Sanhedrim, interposed, and pulling the mouthing Zacharias
back to his place with a stern injunction to be silent, he him-
self ventured to address Pilate in calm conciliatory accents.)
" Believe me, worthy Pilate, thou art not altogether wise
in this matter. Why, for the sake of one man wilt thou give
cause of offence to both the priests and people ? A rebellious
rogue and murderer such as Barabbas hath proved himself to
be, is far less dangerous to the community than yonder young
Teacher of new doctrines, who out of very arrogance, arising
perchance from the consciousness of a certain superior physi-
cal force and outward beauty, doth maintain himself thus
boldly, striving to terrorise thee and avert true justice. Lo,
there are many such as he among the wandering Egyptian
aliens, who, by reason of an imposing presence, and a certain
vague sublimity of speech, do persuade the less crafty to be-
lieve in their supernatural powers. Look you, even Barabbas
himself hath assumed this same imperial attitude when ha-
ranguing the mob and inciting the idle and disaffected to riot-
ing and disorder, for he hath been a student of many books
and speaketh with the tongue of eloquence. Nevertheless
none of the rebellious have presumed so far as this misguided
Nazarene, who, forsaking his trade, and collecting about him
the veritable scum of Judaea (witli the exception of Iscariot
who is well connected, and whose fanaticism for this man
hath sorely grieved his father) doth pretend to open Heaven
only to the poor and vile. He hath declared it easier for a
oamel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man
to enter the Kingdom of God ! Wherefore, by such exag-
gerated parable he doth imply that even imperial Caesar shall
not escape damnation. Should such teachings prevail there
will be an end of all restraint in Judaea, and thine Emperor
will most surely blame thee for thy lack of discipline. Take
heed, good Pilate ! mercy is nobly becoming in thee, but
with mercy, forget not judgment!"
Pilate listened to this little homily with manifest reluc-
tance and impatience, and his level brows drew together in a
worried frown. After a pause ho said irritably,
" Take ye him then and judge him according to your law ! "
Caiaphas turned upon him indignantly.
" It is not lawful for us to put any man to death,' 1 he
answered haughtily "Thou are the governor, and to thee
we are compelled to look for justice."
At that moment there was a slight stir and movement in
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 35
the waiting crowd beyond the barrier, and people were seen
to be making way for the entrance of a new-comer. Thi^
was a slim, dark-eyed youth of a graceful form and delicate
beauty, he was gorgeously attired in a silken garment of
pale blue, bound about him with a scarlet girdle and richly
embroidered in gold and silver. He advanced in haste, ye\,
timidly, and as he crossed the judgment-hall, cast an anxious
and awe-stricken look at the stately figure of the " Nazarene."
Pilate watched his approach with a good deal of surprise and
impatience, he recognised his wife's favourite page, and won-
dered what had brought him thither at such a time and in so
unaccustomed a place. Arriving at the judgment dais the
youth dropped on one knee and proffered a folded scroll.
Snatching it in haste, Pilate opened it and uttered a smoth-
ered exclamation. It was from his wife, one of the most
beautiful of Roman women, known in the city for her haughty
and fearless disposition, and for her openly pronounced con-
tempt for the manners and customs of the Jews. And what
she had written now ran simply thus,
" Have thou nothing to do with that just man, for I have
suffered many things this day in a dream because of him."
With an abrupt sign of dismissal to the page, who at once
retired by the way he had come, Pilate crushed the missive
in his hand and sat lost in thought. Hound the Tribunal,
the sunshine spread in a sea of gold, a bell striking the hour,
slowly chimed on the deep stillness, the white-robed figure
of the Accused stood waiting as immovably as a sculptured
god in the midst of the dazzling beams of the morning,
and through Pilate's brain the warning words of the woman
he loved more than all the world sent jarring hammer-strokes
of repetition
"Have thou nothing to do with that just man!"
CHAPTER VI.
IP he could have prolonged his deliberations thus for ever
it would have seemed to him well. He was not actually con-
scious of time. Something vast, indefinite, and eternal ap-
peared to surround and make of him but a poor, helpless,
stupid block of perishable humanity, unfit to judge, unfit to
36 BARABBAS
rule. He felt as though he had aged suddenly, as though
a score of years had passed in withering haste over his head
since the " Nazarene" had confronted him as a prisoner wait-
ing to be condemmed. And with this mysterious sense of
inward age and incapacity freezing his very blood, he had
the goading consciousness that all the members of the Sanhe-
drim council were watching him, wondering at his indecision
and impatiently expecting judgment on what to them was a
matter of perfectly plain common-sense and social justice,
but which to him had assumed almost gigantic proportions of
complexity and trouble. At last, with an effort, he arose,
and gathering his robes about him, again prepared to descend
from the Tribunal. With a half-appealing, half authoritative
gesture he beckoned the Accused to follow him. He was
instantly obeyed, and the Man of Nazareth walked patiently
yet proudly after His judge whose trailing garment served to
sweep the ground for the passing of His footsteps. In the
rear of the twain came all the priests and elders, whispering
together and shaking their heads over the Roman governor's
incomprehensible conduct, and after them in turn the crooked-
limbed and evil-visaged usurer, Zacharias, shuffled along, sup-
porting himself on a stick of which the knob was heavily
encrusted with gold and jewels, this one piece of gorgeous-
ness being in curious contrast to the rest of his otherwise
beggarly attire. And as the whole vari-coloured group
moved forward, a murmur of satisfaction and interest hummed
through the expectant multitude, at last the long-deferred
sentence was to be finally pronounced.
Arrived within a few feet of the barrier which divided the
judicial precincts from the common hall, Pilate paused.
Lifting up his voice so that it might be heard on the very
outskirts of the throng, he addressed himself to the people,
at the same time pointing to the regal Figure standing a little
way behind him.
" Behold your King /"
Yells of derisive laughter answered him, intermingled
with hooting and hisses. Caiaphas smiled disdainfully, and
Annas appeared to be convulsed with a paroxysm of silent
mirth. Pilate's glance swept over them both with a supreme
and measureless scorn. He loathed the Jewish priests, their
ritual and their doctrine, and made no secret of his ab-
horrence. Holding up one hand to enjoin silence he again
appealed to the irritated and impatient mob.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 37
" / have examined this man before you" he said, in de-
liberate far-reaching accents, " and I find in Mm no fault
worthy of death."
Here he paused, and a sudden hush of stupefaction and
surprise fell on the listening crowd. The governor resumed,
" But ye have a custom that I should release unto you one
at the Passover ; will ye therefore that I release unto you the
4 King of the Jews ? "
A roar of furious denial interrupted and drowned his voice.
" Not this man .'"
" Not this man, but Barabbas /"
"Barabbas!" "Barabbas!"
The name was caught and taken up by the people as
though it were a shout of triumph, and echoed from mouth
to mouth till it died away of itself in the outer air. Pilate
stepped back, disappointed and irate, he realised the position.
The populace had evidently been intimidated by the priests,
and had come prepared to stand by their monstrous demand,
the life of a notorious criminal in place of that of an
innocent man. And they had a certain right to enforce their
wishes at the season of Passover. With a short vexed sigh,
Pilate flashed a searching glance over the now closely serried
ranks of the people.
" Where is Barabbas ?" he demanded impatiently " Bring
him forth 1"
There was a moment's delay, and then Barabbas, wild-
eyed, uncouth, half starved and almost naked, yet not with-
out a certain defiant beauty in his fierce aspect, was thrust
to the front between two armed soldiers of the Roman guard.
Pilate eyed him with strong disfavour, Barabbas returned
him scornful glance for glance. Conscious that the attention
of the mob was now centred upon him, the whole soul of the
long-imprisoned and suffering man rose up in revolt against
the " Roman tyrant," as Pilate was not unfrequently called
by the disaffected Jews, and the old pride, rebellion, and
lawlessness of his disposition began to make new riot in his
blood. If it had not been for the wondrous, almost luminous
Figure that maintained such an attitude of regal calm close
at hand, Barabbas felt that he would have willingly struck
his judge on the mouth with the very gyves that bound his
wrists together. As it was, he remained motionless, his
eyes blazing forth anger, his bare brown chest heaving
quickly with the irregular fluctuations of his passionate
4
38 B ARABS AS
breath, and in that attitude he might have stood as a repre-
sentative type of strong, barbaric, untaught, untamed Hu-
manity. Facing him was the sublime contrast, Divinity,
the grand Ideal, the living symbol of perfect and spirit-
ualised Manhood, whose nature was the nearest akin to God,
and who for this very God-likeness was deemed only worthy
of a criminal's death. Some glimmering idea of the mon-
strous incongruity between himself and the silent Accused,
struck Barabbas forcibly even while he confronted Pilate
with all that strange effrontery which is sometimes born of
conscious guilt ; and the thought crossed his brain that, if in
agreement to the public voice he were indeed released, the
first use he would make of his liberty would be to persuade
the people to mercy on behalf of this kingly-looking Man,
whose noble aspect exerted on his dark and tortured soul
a secret, yet potent spell. And while this idea was in his
mind, Pilate, steadily regarding him, spoke out with harsh
brevity
" So ! Thou did'st slay Gabrias the Pharisee ?"
Barabbas smiled disdainfully.
" Yea ! And so would I slay another such an one, could
there be found in all the city so great a liar !"
Pilate turned to the high-priests and elders.
" Hear ye him ? Yet" this is the man ye would set at
liberty? Impenitent and obstinate, he hath no sense of
sorrow for his crime, how then doth he merit pardon ?"
Caiaphas, vaguely embarrassed by the question, lowered
his eyes for a second, then raised them, conveying into his
long thin face an admirably affected expression of serious
pity and forbearance.
" Good Pilate," he replied blandly and in a low tone,
" Thou knowest not the whole truth of this affair. Barabbas
hath indeed been guilty of much sin, but look you, his evil
passions were not roused without a cause. We, of the Holy
Temple, are prepared to instruct him how best his crime may
be expiated in the sight of the Most High Jehovah, and his
offering shall not be rejected but received at the altar. For
the ill-fated Gabrias, though eminent in learning and of good
renown, had a hasty and false tongue, and it is commonly
reported that he did most vilely slander a virtuous maiden of
this city whom Barabbas loved."
Pilate lifted his eyebrows superciliously.
" These are but base pandering matters," he said, " where-
A DREAM OF THE WORLDS TRAGEDY 39
with thou, Caiaphas, should' st have nought to do. And
Gabrias surely was not the only possessor of a false tongue !
Thy words savour of a woman's tale-bearing and are of idle
purport. Murder is murder, theft is theft, excuses cannot
alter crimes. And this Barabbas is likewise a robber."
And again confronting the multitude, he reiterated his
previous demand in a more directly concise form.
" Which will ye that I release unto you ? Barablas or
Jesus which is called Christ ? "
With one accord the populace responded tumultuously,
"Barabbas!" " Barabbas !"
Pilate gave a gesture which might have meant despair or
indignation or both, and turned a wistful look over his
shoulder at the " Nazarene," who at the moment seemed
absorbed in grave and tranquil meditation, of which the
tenor must have been pleasing, for He smiled.
Once more Pilate addressed the crowd.
" What will ye tlien that I do unto Him whom ye call the
King of the Jews ?"
" Crucify him /" " Crucify him /"
The answer came in yells and shrieks of rage, but above all
the frantic din, there rose that one silver flute-like woman's
voice that had been heard before
"Crucify Jam!"
Barabbas started at the sound as a race-horse starts at
the prick of a spur. Wildly he looked about him, with an
almost ravenous glitter in his eyes he scanned the shouting
throng, but could discover no glimpse of the face he longed
yet feared to see. And, yielding to a nameless attraction, he
brought his wandering glances back, back to the spot where
the sunlight seemed to gather in a fiery halo round the form
of Him who as Pilate had said was "called Christ." What
was the meaning of the yearning love and vast pity that was
suddenly reflected in that fair Countenance ? What delicate
unspoken word hovered on the sensitive lips, arched like a
bow and tremulous with feeling? Barabbas knew not, but
it suddenly seemed to him that his whole life with all its
secrets good and evil, lay bare to the gaze of those soft yet
penetrating eyes that met his own with such solemn warning
and tender pathos.
"No, no!" he cried loudly on a swift inexplicable impulse
" She did not speak ! She could not thus have spoken !
Women are pitiful, not cruel, she seeks no man's torture !
40 BARABBAS
people of Jerusalem !" he continued, his deep voice gath-
ering a certain sonorous music of its own, as, turning him-
self about he faced the crowd " Why do ye clamour for
this prophet's death ? Surely he hath not slain a man among
ye, neither hath he stolen your goods nor broken into your
dwellings. Rumour saith he hath healed ye in your sick-
ness, comforted ye in your sorrows, and performed among ye
many wondrous miracles, so ye yourselves report, wherefore
then for these things should he die? Are ye not just?
have ye not the gift of reason ? Lo, it is I who merit pun-
ishment ! I, who slew Gabrias and rejoice in mine iniquity !
and look you, I, blood-stained, guilty, and impenitent, de-
serve my death, whereas this man is innocent 1"
Shouts of derisive laughter and applause and renewed
cries of " Barabbas I Barabbas ! Release unto us Barabbas !"
were the only result of his rough eloquence.
" Stop his mouth !" exclaimed Annas angrily " He must
be mad to prate thus !' '
" Mad or no, ye have yourselves elected him for freedom"
observed Pilate composedly " Mayhap ye will now re-
tract, seeing he hath shown a certain generosity towards yon
defenceless Nazareue 1"
While he spoke, there was a threatening movement of the
mob towards the bairier, the line of Roman soldiery swayed
as though it were likely to be broken through by superior
force, and a multitude of hands were tossed aloft in air and
pointed at the unmoved patient figure of the Christ.
' ' Crucify him ! Crucify him !' '
Pilate advanced swiftly, close to the ranks of the turbulent
populace, and demanded sternly,
"Shall I crucify your King ?"
Amid a chorus of groans and hisses, more than a hundred
voices gave reply,
" We have no king but Caesar !"
_ " Verily, by thy hesitancy, Pilate, thou wilt have the whole
city in tumult !" said Caiaphas reproachfully. " Seest thou
not the mob are losing patience?"
At that moment a tall man whose grizzled head was
adorned with a showy scarlet turban, detached himself from
the rest of the throng and stood boldly forward, exclaiming
in loud excited tones
" We have a law, and by that law he ought to die, because
me made himself the Son of God!"
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 41
As he heard these words, Pilate retreated some few steps
away from the barrier, with the strange stunned sense of
having been struck a sharp blow from an invisible hand !
The Son of God ! Such an assertion was assuredly blasphe-
mous, if indeed the Accused had asserted it. But this was
just what Pilate doubted. When Caiaphas had previously
spoken of it, he had received the report with contempt, be-
cause he knew the high-priest would stop at no falsehood,
provided his own immediate ends were thereby attained. But
now that one of the populace had come forward with the same
accusation, Pilate was forced to look at it in a different light.
After all, he was set in his place to administer justice to the
Jews, and in the Jewish law blasphemy was regarded as a
crime almost worse than murder. He, Pilate himself, as a
citizen of Rome, took a different and much lighter view of
the offence. For the Roman deities were all so mixed, and
so much worse than human in their vengeances and illicit
loves, that it was not always easy to perceive anything more
lofty in the character of a god than in that of a man. Any
warrior who had won renown for fierce brute courage and
muscular prowess, might report himself in Rome as the son
of a god without affronting popular feeling, and in time,
many-mouthed Tradition would turn his lie into a seeming
truth. And in that mysterious land through which the Nile
made its languid way, did not travellers speak with awe and
wonderment of the worship of Osiris, the incarnate god in
human semblance ? The idea was a popular one, it arose
from an instinctive desire to symbolise the divine in humanity,
and was a fable common to all religions, wherefore there
seemed to be little actual harm in the fact of this dreamy-
looking poetic young philosopher of Nazareth seeking to as-
sociate himself with the favourite myths of the people, if
indeed, he did so associate himself. And Pilate, his thoughts
still busy with the romances told of the gods in Egypt, beck-
oned the Accused towards him. His signal was complied
with, and the " Nazarene" moved quietly up to within reach
of His judge's hand. Pilate surveyed Him with renewed
interest and curiosity, then in a low tone of friendly and
earnest appeal, asked,
"From whence art thou ?"
No verbal answer was vouchsafed to him, only a look;
and in the invincible authority and grandeur of that look
there was something of darkness and light intermingled,
4*
42 BARABBAS
something of the drear solemnity of the thunder-cloud before
the lightning leaps forth, sword-like, to destroy. A great
anguish and foreboding seized Pilate's soul, with all the
force of his being he longed to cry out, to give voice to his
secret trouble, and to openly express before priests and people
his abhorrence and rejection of the judicial task he was set
to do. But all words seemed strangled in his throat, and a
desperate sense of hopelessness and helplessness paralysed his
will.
"Speakest thou not unto me?" he continued, in accents
that were hoarse and tremulous with excess of feeling ;
"Knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and
power to release thee T '
Still steadily the large lustrous eyes regarded him, with
something of compassion now in their glance, and after a
moment's pause, the rich full voice once more cast music on
the air.
" Thou couldest have no power at all against me except it
were given thee from above /" Then, with a slight sigh of
pity and pardon: "Therefore, he that delivered me unto thee
hath the greater sin."
And the penetrating look flashed upward from Pilate to
the tall rigid form of Caiaphas, who shrank from it as though
suddenly scorched by a flying flame. Pilate, more than ever
impressed by the air of command, power, and entire fearless-
ness expressed in the whole demeanour of the Prisoner, once
again began to puzzle his brain with the recollection of the
various stories that were current concerning Egypt, stories
of exiled monarchs, who, banished from their realms by an
untoward series of events or for some self-imposed religious
intention, went wandering about in all the countries of the
world, teaching the mystic wisdom of the East, and perform-
ing miracles of healing. Was it not probable that this young
Preacher, so unlike the Jewish race in the fair openness and
dignity of His countenance, the clear yet deep dark blue of
His eyes, and the wonderfully majestic yet aerial poise of His
figure, might, notwithstanding the popular report of His ple-
beian origin, after all be one of these discrowned nomads ?
This idea gained on Pilate's fancy, and impelled by its influ-
ence he asked for the second time,
"Art thou a King?"
And by marked accentuation of the question he sought to
imply that if such were the original distinction of the Cap-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 43
tive, release might yet be obtained. But the " Nazarene"
only gave a slight sigh of somewhat wearied patience as He
replied,
" THOU sayest that I am a King /" Then, apparently moved
by commiseration for the vacillating perplexity of His judge,
He continued gently, " To this end was I born and for this
end came I into the world, That I should bear witness unto
the Truth! Every one that is of the Truth knoweth my
voice."
While He thus spoke, Pilate gazed upon Him in solemn
astonishment. Here was no traitor or criminal, but simply
one of the world's noblest madmen ! More convincing than
all the other accusations brought against Him by priests and
people was His own unqualified admission of folly. For
whosoever sought to " bear witness unto the Truth" in a
world kept up by lies could not be otherwise than mad ! Had
it not always been thus? And would it not always be thus?
Had not the Athenian Socrates met his death nearly five
hundred years agone for merely uttering the Truth ? Pilate,
more instructed than the majority in Greek and Roman phi-
losophy, knew that no fault was so reprehensible in all classes
of society as simple plain-speaking ; it was almost safer to
murder a man than tell the truth of him ! Thus thinking
he gave a hopeless gesture of final abandonment to destiny ;
and with an ironical bitterness he was scarcely conscious
of, uttered the never to-be-forgotten, never-to-be-answered
query
" What is Truth?"
Then, glancing from the Accused to the accusers, from the
priests to the people, from the people in turn to Barabbas,
who waited before him sullenly expectant, he sighed impa-
tiently, and with the desperately resolved air of one compelled
to perform the very act his soul most abhorred, he beckoned
to a clerk in attendance and gave him a whispered order.
The man retired, but returned almost immediately bearing a
large silver bowl filled with pure water. Flinging back his
rich robe of office and allowing it to trail in voluminous folds
behind him, Pilate, closely followed by the attendant carrying
the silver vessel, stepped forward again to confront the populace
who were becoming more contentious aud noisy with every
moment's delay. On perceiving the governor's advance, how-
ever, they ceased their turbulent murmurings and angry dis-
putations, and concentrated all their attention upon him, the
44 BARABBAS
more particularly as his movements were somewhat strange
and unexpected. Rolling up his gold-embroidered sleeves
well above his wrists, he raised his bare hands aloft and
showed them, palms outward, to the multitude, the great
jewels on his fingers flashing like stars in the morning sun.
He held them so uplifted for a minute's space, while the
people, wondering, looked on in silence, then, slowly lower-
ing them, he dipped them deep in the shining bowl, rinsing
them over and over again in the clear cold element which
sparkled in its polished receptacle like an opal against fire.
And as he shook the bright drops away from him, he cried in
a loud penetrating voice
" lam innocent of the blood of this Just person ! See ye to
it!"
The multitude shouted and yelled. They understood and
accepted the position. Their Roman judge publicly declined
all responsibility in the matter, even so let it be ! but they,
they the elect of God, the children of Judaea, eagerly em-
braced, and not for the first time in their annals, the right-
eous opportunity of slaying the innocent. And with one
mighty roar they responded, men and women alike,
" His blood be upon us and on our children /"
The hideous, withering, irrevocable Curse rose shudder-
ingly up to Heaven, there to be inscribed by the Recording
Angel in letters of flame as the self-invoked Doom of a
people.
CHAPTER VII.
AFTER this nothing more could be said. An ignorant and
callous mob has neither justice, reason, nor pity, yet the pop-
ular verdict had to be accepted as final. No appeal could b&
made against such a grimly resolved and unanimous decision.
Pilate saw that had he still ventured to plead the cause of
the Divine Accused, the impatience of the crowd, strained to
its last limit, would probably break out in riot and bloodshed.
He therefore, like a man driven along by a resistless whirl-
wind, sacrificed his own will to the desire of the people, and
Caiaphas, seeing that he had at last yielded to the force of
necessity, heaved a sigh of relief. Hesitation was at an end,
Man of Naiareth was to die the death. And the great
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 45
high-priest murmured his satisfaction in the ear of his friend
Annas, who listened servilely, rubbing his fat hands together
and every now and then rolling up his small treacherous eyes
in pious thanksgiving, thanksgiving that the Holy City of
Jerusalem was to be finally freed from the troublous and
alarming presence of the " Nazarene."
" Once dead," whispered Caiaphas, with a contemptuous
side-glance at the fair-faced enemy of his craft, the silent
" Witness unto the Truth" " and, moreover, slain with dis-
honour in the public sight, he will soon sink out of remem-
brance. His few disciples will be despised, his fanatical
foolish doctrine will be sneered down, and we, we will take
heed that no chronicle of his birth or death or teaching re-
mains to be included in our annals. A stray street preacher
to the common folk ! how should his name endure ?"
" Nay, it shall not endure," returned Annas with an unctu-
ous air of perfect assurance " Thou, most holy and exalted
Caiaphas, hast ever dwelt too ardently upon this fellow's
boasting. Many there are, such as he, who thus idly vaunt
themselves, and swear that though unknown and all un-
honoured by their own generation, they shall be acclaimed
great and wonderful hereafter. Arrogant philosophers prate
thus, mad poets who string rhymes as children string beads,
and call such fool's work valuable, heretical thinkers too of
all degrees, yet lo, their vaunting comes to naught ! Verily,
if History make no mention of this man, who will believe
he ever lived !"
Caiaphas smiled coldly.
"Little word will there be of him in History," said he.
" For his crazed followers are ignorant of letters, and our
scribes must write only what we shall bid them !"
Part of this low-toned conversation was overheard by
Zacharias, the old usurer, and he nodded emphatic approval,
laughing silently the while. The condemnatory sentence
passed on the immortal Captive by the Jewish populace was
balm to his mean and miserable soul, he rejoiced in it as in
some excellent and satisfying jest, and he struck his jewelled
stick now and then on the pavement, with an ecstatic thump,
by way of giving outward expression to his inwardly gratified
feeling. Pilate, meantime, having, by the washing of his
hands before the people, openly signified his repugnance and
refusal to personally participate in the crime (for so he truly
considered it) about to be committed, proceeded with the rest
46 BARABBAS
of his enforced duty in feverish haste and something of horror.
Nothing could now be done quickly enough to please him,
he grew nervous and excited, a shamed flush at times burned
in his cheeks, and anon he grew ghastly pale again, every
line of his features becoming drawn and livid as the features
of the dead, and in all his hurried movements he carefully
avoided turning his eyes towards the Man Condemned. At
his abrupt signal some twenty soldiers with drawn weapons
surrounded the grand white Figure that stood, divinely silent,
in the glory of the morning sun, coarse-visaged, squat-bodied
men who laughed and swore among themselves as they eyed
their Prisoner up and down and made mocking comments on
His stately and unmoved bearing. He Himself appeared
to be almost unconscious of their proximity, some happy
fancy seemed to hover, spirit-like, across His mind, for judging
by His radiant aspect, He might have been a crowned Apollo
dreaming of realms wherein His smile alone created light and
sound and life. And in the same moment that the military
cohort thus fenced Him in with their bristling spears, the two
soldiers who had guarded Barabbas until now retired to the
rear, leaving their man to receive his formal release at the
hands of the governor. Alone, facing Pilate, Barabbas
waited, the iron manacles still weightily dragging down his
arms and showing where their long and corroding pressure
had bruised and cut the flesh beneath. He was giddy with
fatigue and excitement, but his black eyes were brilliant, and
every nerve and muscle in his body thrilled to the rapturous
thought of liberty. His suspense did not last long, for Pilate
was now in no humour for delays. Snatching from an attend-
ant officer the implement used for such purposes, he struck at
the heavy links of the rescued criminal's chains with such
irate violence that they were soon parted asunder and fell,
clanging harshly on the marble pavement. The noise made
by their fall was sufficient to excite the populace to a burst
of triumphant shouting.
"Barabbas!"
" Freedom for Barabbas !"
" Hail Barabbas !"
Barabbas meanwhile stared at the cast-off fetters with a
stupefied air as though they had all at once become curious
and unfamiliar objects. He had worn them day and night for
eighteen months yet now it seemed he knew them not. He
lifted his arms and swung them to and fro with a sense of
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 47
bodily ease and lightness, but where was the buoyancy of
spirit that had but a moment before elated him ? It was
gone, and gone quite suddenly, he knew not how. He had
hoped and longed and prayed for freedom, his hope was ful-
filled, and now, with fulfilment, hope was dead. A heavy
despondency overcame him, and he stood dully inert, while
he heard Caiaphas say,
" Wilt thou not fasten yon bracelets upon the Nazarene,
good Pilate ? Who knoweth but that in going to his death
he may not prove rebellious?"
Pilate frowned.
" What now ! Hath he fought with the guard ? Hath he
moved? Hath he murmured? Hath he spoken aught of
violence ? He disputeth not judgment, he doth most mutely
accept the fate ye give him. Therefore why bind that which
maketh no resistance ? Let Jews be what they will, ye shall
not make a coward of a Roman!"
And with this he turned abruptly to Barabbas.
"Why dost thou wait there, fellow? Get thee hence!"
and the suppressed irritation he felt quivered in his usually
calm voice " Impenitent murderer and thief as thou art, the
laws of thy nation set thee free to slay and steal again at thy
pleasure !"
Barabbas winced, and his dark face flushed. The scathing
words cut him deeply, but he found nothing to say in reply.
His head drooped somewhat wearily on his chest, he fully
understood he was at liberty, yet liberty did not now bring
with it the complete sense of joy he had thought to find in
its possession. Beyond the barrier the people outside waited
to receive him with triumphant acclamations, but his limbs
seemed to be fastened to the spot where he stood, and for the
life of him he could not help gazing wistfully and remorse-
fully at the One condemned in his stead.
" It would have been better," he said within himself, " to
have died for yonder Man, than live on, free."
As this thought crossed his mind, it seemed to him that a
sudden soft light shone round the uplifted head of the " Naza-
rene," a ring of pale and misty radiance that gradually
deepened into a warm glow of golden flame. He gazed at
this phenomenon affrighted, surely others saw the glory as
well as himself? Judge, priests, soldiers and people, could it
be possible they were blind to what was so distinctly visible ?
He tried to speak and tell them, but his tongue clove to th
48 BAR ABB AS
roof of his mouth, and he could only stare like one distraught,
striving to utter words that refused to become audible. Caia-
phas, impatient at his apparent stupidity and unwillingness to
move, stepped up to him.
" Did'st thou not hear the governor's command, thou fool ?
Get thee hence quickly ! Take heed to thy ways, and see
thou venture not near the house of Iscariot I"
This injunction pronounced in an angry whisper, roused
Barabbas from his amazed contemplation of the Christ to a
sudden silent access of personal fury. The glory-light van-
ished from the brows of the prophet of Nazareth, there
was no more wonder, no more mystic terror ; material life
and its demands rose paramount in his mind. With a look
of indignant scorn and rebellion flashed full in the face of
the great high-priest, he straightened himself proudly to
his full height, and turning his back on the Hall of
Judgment strode swiftly towards the barrier dividing him
from the populace, the Roman soldiers making way for him
to pass. A moment more, and he had sprung into the midst
of the crowd where he was received with frenzied yells of
delight and prolonged cheering. An exultant mob gathered
round him, shouting his name, men embraced him, women
caught his grimy hands and kissed them, little children
danced about him whooping and shrieking with joy, not
knowing why they did so, but simply infected by the excite-
ment of their elders, one man in the height of enthusiasm
tore off a rich upper mantle from his own shoulders and
flung it around the half-naked, half-starved form of the
newly-released criminal, shedding tears of emotion the while.
Not a trace was left of the previous aversion shown towards
him when first he had been marched into the Tribunal, a
prisoner under armed escort, the public, more fickle than
the wind, were full of rejoicing over the fact that their word
and their will had obtained his release, and, to judge by
their jubilant cries, the once notorious murderer might have
been a king returning to throne and country after long exile.
A large section of the crowd forgot for the moment that
Other, who was left to His fate and condemned to die, they
were content to press round their own rescued man with
joyous greeting and laughter, praying him to partake of food
and wine with them at the nearest inn, or urging him to
accompany them in turn to their several homes. Breathless
and bewildered, and incongruously clad in the silk and gold-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 49
threaded garment his philanthropic admirer had wound about
him, Barabbas looked from right to left, wondering how best
he might elude the enthusiastic attentions which threatened
to overwhelm his small stock of patience. For he himself
was not elated with his triumph ; he knew, better than most
men, the true value of " friends" as this world goes ; and he
felt more weariness and impatience than anything else as his
eyes roved anxiously over the surging sea of heads in search
of one face that he fancied was sure to be there, a face that
for him was all he realised of heaven. But he failed to dis-
cover what he sought, and, chilled by his disappointment, he
scarcely heard the various items of news and gossip some of
his former acquaintances were pouring into his ears. All at
once a murmur ran from lip to lip,
" Look you, they scourge him !"
Like an ocean wave rolling inshore, the crowd, moved by
one instinct, turned, swaying impetuously back towards the
Hall of Judgment. Standing on tip-toe they craned their
necks over each other's shoulders to see what was going on,
men lifted tiny children in their arms, some few, princi-
pally women, uttered smothered exclamations of pity, but
on the whole a mercilessly pleased air of expectation pervaded
the throng. Barabbas, carried along by the force of the
mob, found himself facing the Tribunal once more, and being
a tall man he was able to command a better view than most
of those immediately around him.
"Brutes!" he muttered as he saw " Dogs ! Devils! To
strike a man defenceless ! coward bravery !"
And with strained eyes and heavily beating heart he
watched the scene. The Tribunal seemed now to be well-
nigh possessed by the Roman guards, for several extra
soldiers had been summoned to aid in the pitiless deed about
to be done. In the centre of a ring of bristling spears and
drawn battle-axes stood the " Nazarene," offering no resist-
ance to the rude buffetings of the men who violently stripped
Him of His upper garments, leaving His bare shoulders and
breast exposed to view. An officer meantime handed the
scourge to Pilate, a deadly-looking instrument made of sev-
eral lengths of knotted whip-cord, fringed with small nail-
like points of sharpened iron. It was part of the procurator's
formal duty to personally chastise a condemned criminal,
but the unhappy man upon whom in this dreadful instance
the allotted task now fell, shuddered in every limb, and,
c d 6
50
BARABBAS
pushing away the barbarous thong, made a faint mute ges-
ture of denial. The officer waited, his dull heavy face ex-
hibiting as much surprise as discipline would allow. The
soldiers waited, staring inquisitively. And in equable sweet
ness and silence the Man of Nazareth also waited, the sun-
light giving a polished luminance to His bared shoulders and
arms, dazzling in their whiteness, statuesque in their symme-
try, the while He lifted His deep pensive eyes, and regarded
His miserable judge with a profound and most tender pity.
Caiaphas and his father-in-law exchanged vexed glances.
"Dost thou yet delay justice, Pilate?" questioned the
high-priest haughtily " Time presses. Do what thy duty
bids thee, strike !"
CHAPTER VIII.
BUT Pilate still hesitated, gazing blankly out into nothing-
ness. His face was pallid, his lips were set hard, his erect
figUre, clothed in rich attire, looked curiously stiff and lifeless
like that of a frozen man. Would that the sick qualm at
his heart might overcome him altogether, he thought, so that,
falling in a senseless swoon, he might escape the shame and
horror of striking that kingly Gentleness, that embodied Pa-
tience ! But life and consciousness throbbed through him,
albeit painfully and confusedly ; the people whom he was set
to govern, demanded of him the full performance of his work.
Mechanically he at last stretched forth his hand and grasped
the scourge, then, with a faltering step and downcast eyes
approached the Condemned. The soldiers, anticipating the
scourging, had notwithstanding Pilate's objection to bind
"that which maketh no resistance" tied their passive Cap-
tive's hands with rope, lest He should attempt to defend
Himself from the falling blows. On these needless and un-
merited bonds, Pilate first of all fixed his glance, a great
wrath and sorrow contending within him. But he was pow-
erless to alter or soften the conditions of the law, he was
the wretched tool of destiny, and with a bitter loathing of
himself and the shameful thing he was compelled to do, he
turned away his eyes and, . . . lifted the lash. It dropped
heavily with a stinging hiss on the tender flesh, again and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 51
again it rose, . . . again and again it fell, . . . till the bright
blood sprang from beneath its iron points and splashed in red
drops on the marble pavement. . . . But no sound passed
the lips of the Divine Sufferer, not so much as a sigh of
pain, and no prophetic voice uplifted itself to proclaim the
truth, " He was wounded for our transgressions, and by His
stripes are we healed !"
Meanwhile, a strange and unaccountable silence possessed
the people watching outside, pressing close against one
another, they peered with eager curious eyes at the progress
of the punishment, till at last, when the scourge caught in
its cruel prongs a strand of the Captive's gold-glistening hair,
and, tearing it out, cast it, wet with blood, on the ground, a
girl in the crowd broke out into hysterical sobbing. The
sound of woman's weeping scared Pilate in his dreadful
task, he looked up, flushed and fevered, with wild eyes and
a wilder smile and paused. Zacharias, the usurer, hobbled
forward excitedly waving his jewelled staff in the air.
" To it again, and harder, most noble governor !" he yelled
in his cracked and tremulous voice, " To it again, with better
will ! Such blows as thine would scarcely hurt a child ! He
scourged others, let him taste of the thong himself! Ldok
you, he hath not winced nor cried out, he hath not yet felt
the lash. To it again in justice, excellent Pilate! in simple
justice! He hath scourged me, an aged man and honest,
verily it is right and fitting he should receive the sting in
his own flesh, else shall he die impenitent. Again, and yet
again, most worthy governor, but let the stripes be heavier !"
As he spoke, gesticulating violently, his stick suddenly
slipped from his shaking hand and dropped on the marble
floor, and a great pearl, loosened from its setting in the jew-
elled handle, flew out, rolled away like a bead and disap-
peared. With a shriek of anguish, the miserable man fell
on his knees and began to grope along the pavement with his
yellow claw-like fingers, shedding maudlin tears, while he en-
treated the impassive soldiers standing by to aid him in look-
ing for the precious lost gem. A grim smile went the round
of the band, but not a man moved. Moaning and whimper-
ing, the wretched usurer crept slowly on all-fours over the
floor of the Tribunal, keeping his eyes close to the ground,
and presenting the appearance of some loathly animal rather
than a man, the while he every now and again paused and
prodded with his filthy hands into every nook and corner in
52 BARABBAS
hope to find the missing jewel. The loss was to him irrep-
urable, and in his grief and rage he had even forgotten his
desire of vengeance on the "Nazarene." Pilate, watching
him as he crawled about weeping childishly, was moved by
such a sense of pleasure at his discomfiture as to feel almost
light-hearted for the moment, and, breaking into a loud laugh
of unnatural hilarity, he flung away the blood-stained scourge
with the relieved air of one whose disagreeable task was now
finished. But Caiaphas was by no means satisfied.
" Thou hast given yon condemned malefactor but the
mildest scourging, Pilate," he said " Why hast thou cast
aside the lash so soon?"
Pilate's eyes flashed fire.
" Press not my humour too far, thou vengeful priest !" he
muttered breathlessly"! have done my accursed work.
See ye to the rest!"
Caiaphas retreated a step or two, somewhat startled. There
was something in the expression of Pilate's face that was
truly terrifying, a dark and ghastly anguish that for the
moment disturbed even the high-priest's cold and self-satisfied
dignity. After a brief pause, however, he recovered his
wonted composure, and by a sign to the centurion in com-
mand, intimated that the scourging was over and that the
Prisoner was now abandoned to His fate. And, this culmi-
nating point having been reached, all the members of the
Sanhedrim, together with the scribes and elders present,
saluted the governor ceremoniously and left the Tribunal,
walking slowly down two by two into the lower hall called
" Prsetorium." Thither too, the soldiers were preparing to
lead or drag the doomed Nazarene. Filing away in solemn
and dignified order, the sacerdotal procession gradually disap-
peared, and only Pilate lingered, chained to the spot by a sort
of horrible fascination. Sheltering himself from the public
view behind a massive marble column, he leaned against that
cold support in utter weariness, broken in body and mind by
the fatigue and, to him, inexplicable anguish of the morn-
ing's trial. In his dazed brain he strove hard to realise
what it was, what it could be, that made him feel as if the
most unutterable crime ever committed on earth was about to
be perpetrated this very day in this very city of Jerusalem.
He had become a torturing problem to himself, he could
not understand his own overwhelming emotion. His wife's
message had greatly disturbed him ; he had thrust the scroll
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 53
hurriedly in his breast, but now he drew it out and once more
re-read the strange injunction,
"Have thou nothing to do with that just man, for I have
suffered this day many things in a dream because of him"
Mysterious words ! what could they mean ? What could
she, Justitia, the proud, fearless and beautiful woman of
Rome have " suffered" ? In a dream, too, she who scarcely
ever dreamed, who laughed at auguries and omens, and
had even been known to say satirical things against the
gods themselves ! She was totally unimaginative ; and to a
certain extent her nature was hard and pitiless, or what her
own people would have termed " heroic." She would look
on, pleased and placid, at the most hideous gladiatorial con-
tests and other barbarous spectacles then in vogue in her
native city, when she was but twelve years of age she had
watched unmoved the slow torturing of a slave condemned to
be flayed alive for theft and perjury. Hence, this action of
hers in protesting against the condemnation of any particular
criminal, was sufficiently unusual and unlike her to be re-
markable. "Have thou nothing to do with that just man!"
What would she say if she could see that same ''just man"
now ! Pilate, looking fearfully round from his retired coign
of vantage, turned sick and cold at the horror of the scene
that was being enacted, but though he would have given
his life to interfere he knew that he dared not. The people
had declared their will, and that will must needs be done.
There was no help and no hope for a Truth unanimously con-
demned by this world's liars. There never has been, and
there never shall be !
The previous intense silence of the multitude had given
way to fierce clamour ; the air resounded with discordant bel-
lowings as though a herd of wild beasts had broken loose to
ravage the earth. The soldiery, no longer restrained by the
presence of sacerdotal authority, and moreover incited to out-
rage by the yells of the mob, were violently pushing their
Prisoner along with the but-ends of their weapons in a brutal
endeavour to make Him lose His footing and fall headlong
down the steps that led into the Praetorium. Their savage
buffetings were unprovoked assaults, dealt out of a merely
gratuitous desire to insult the sublime Sufferer, for He Him-
self gave them no cause of affront, but went with them
peaceably. His shoulders still bare, were bleeding from the
scourge, His hands and arms were still tightly bound, yet
6*
9 4 BARABBAS
neither pain nor humiliation had lessened the erect majesty
of His bearing or the aerial pride of his step, and His beau-
tiful eyes kept the lustrous, dreamy splendour of a thought
and a knowledge beyond all human ken. Pressing close about
Him His ruffianly guards derided Him with mocking ges-
tures and laughter, shouting obscenities in His ears and sing-
ing scraps of ribald songs. A scarlet mantle had been left
by chance on one of the benches in the hall, and this was
spied out by one of the men who snatched it up in haste and
flung it across the Captive's wounded shoulders. It trailed
behind Him in regal flowing folds ; and the fellow who had
thrown it thus in position, gave a wild shout, am 1 pointing
with his pike exclaimed derisively,
" Hail, King of the Jews /"
Shrieks of applause and bursts of laughter answered this
ebullition of wit, and Barabbas alone, out of all the callous
crowd made protest.
" Shame !" he cried, " Shame on you, Romans ! Shame
on you, people of Jerusalem 1 Why mock that which is con-
demned ?"
But his voice was lost in the uproar around him, or if not
utterly lost, it fell unheeded on the ears of those who did not
choose to hear. And anon, a fresh burst of taunting merri-
ment split the air into harsh echoings, a new phase of bitter
jesting moved the crowd, the " King" was being crowned !
A spearman acting on the initiative given by his fellow, had
leaped into the outer garden-court, and had there torn from
the wall three long branches of a climbing rose, thick with
thorns. Pulling off all the delicate buds, blossoms and leaves,
he twisted the prickly stems into a coronal and with this ap-
proached the silent Christ, his companions greeting him with
hoarse yells of approving laughter.
" Hail, King of the Jews /" he cried, as he placed it on the
Divine brows, pressing the spiky circlet fiercely down into the
tender flesh till the pained blood sprang beneath its pressure
"Hail, all hail!"
And he struck the fair and tranquil face with his steel
gauntlet
" A sceptre I A sceptre for the King !" shouted a little
lad, running out from the crowd excitedly, and waving a light
reed aloft as he came. The soldiers laughed again, and
snatching the reed, set it upright between the bound wrists
of their blameless Captive. Then with devilish howlings
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 55
and wild gestures a group of disorderly ruffians rushed for-
ward pell-mell and dropped on their knees, turning up their
grirny grinning faces in pretended worship and mocking ser-
vility the while they yelled in frantic chorus,
" Hail ! Nail, King of the. Jews !"
They might as well have stormed the Sun, or flung insults
at a Star. Mystically removed above and beyond them all
was the Man of Sorrows, His lips, close set in that won-
drous curve of beauty such as sculptors give to the marble
god of song, opened not for any utterance of word or cry ;
scarcely indeed did He appear to breathe, so solemn and
majestic a stillness encompassed Him. That tranquil silence
irritated the mob, it implied perfect courage, indifference
to fate, heroic fortitude, and sublime endurance, and thus
seemed to be a dignified, dumbly declared scorn of the foolish
fury of the people.
" A curse on him !" cried a man in the crowd " Hath he
no tongue ? Hath he no more doctrines to teach before he
dies ? Make him speak !"
" Speak, fellow !" roared a soldier, striking him heavily on
the shoulder with the handle of his spear, " Thou hast bab-
bled oft of both sin and righteousness, how darest thou
now hold thy peace ?"
But neither taunt nor blow could force an answer from the
immortal " King." His noble features were composed and
calm, His luminous eyes looked straight ahead as though
beholding some glory afar off in shining distance, and only
the slow drops of blood starting from under the sharp points
of His thorny crown, and staining the bright hair that clus-
tered on His temples, gave any material evidence of life or
feeling.
"He hath a devil!" shouted another man "He is hard-
ened in impenitence and feels nothing. Away with him!
Let him be crucified! 1 '
While this incessant clamour was going on, Pilate had
stood apart, watching the scene with the doubtful and con-
fused sensations of a man in delirium. As in some horrid
vision, he beheld the stately Figure, draped in the scarlet
robe and crowned with thorns, being hustled along the Prae-
torium towards the open court outside which had to be
reached by yet another descending flight of steps, and,
yielding to a sudden impulse he moved quickly forward, so
that he came in the way of the advancing guard. Seeing
56 BARABBAS
him appear thus unexpectedly, the centurion in command
paused. The soldiers too, somewhat taken aback at being
caught in their brutal horse-play by no less a personage than
the governor himself, ceased their noisy shouts abruptly and
rested on their weapons, sullenly silent. Once more, and for
the last time on earth, Pilate ventured to look straight at the
Condemned. Bruised, bound and bleeding, the twisted rose-
thorns setting their reluctant prongs ever more deeply into
his brows, the "Nazarene" met that questioning, appealing,
anguished human gaze with a proud yet sweet serenity ; while
Pilate, staring wildly in terror and wonderment, saw that
above the crown of thorns there glittered a crown of light,
light woven in three intertwisted rays of dazzling gold and
azure, which cast prismatic reflections upward, like meteor-
flames flashing between earth and heaven. A Crown of Light !
... a mystic Circle, widening, ever widening into burning
rings that seemed endless, . . . how came such glory there ?
What could it mean ? . . . Like a drowning man desperately
clutching at a floating spar while sinking in the depths of
the sea, Pilate clutched vaguely and half blindly at the flow-
ing scarlet mantle which, as a symbol of the world's mockery
robed the regal form of the world's Redeemer, and dragged
at it as though he sought to pull its wearer forward. The
clamorous touch was obeyed ; the Man of Nazareth sufiered
Himself to be led by His judge to the summit of the last
flight of steps leading downwards and outwards from the
Praetorium. There, He fully faced the assembled multitude
in all His sorrowful sublimity and tragic splendour, and for a
moment deep silence ruled the throng. Then, suddenly heart-
stricken and overwhelmed at the sight of such pure and pite-
ous majesty, Pilate dropped the edge of the scarlet robe as
though it had scorched his flesh.
" ECCE HOMO !" he exclaimed, tossing up his arms as he
shrieked the words out in his native tongue, careless as to
whether they were understood or not by the startled Jewish
crowd" ECCE HOMO !"
And breaking into a wild fit of delirious laughter and
weeping, he flung his mantle desperately across his mouth to
stifle the agonized convulsion, and swerving aside giddily, fell,
face forward on the ground, insensible.
A DREAM. OF THE WORLDS TRAGEDY
CHAPTER IX.
A LOUD cry went up from the multitude, and in the con-
sternation and confusion which ensued, the crowd swiftly
divided itself into various sections. Some rushed to proffer
assistance in lifting the unconscious governor and carrying him
to his palace ; others gathered once more around the released
Barabbas with fresh adulation and words of welcome, but
by far the larger half of the mob prepared to follow the
Divine Condemned and see Him die. Fearful and unnatural
as it seems, it is nevertheless true that in all ages the living
have found a peculiar and awful satisfaction in watching the
agonies of the dying. To be alive and to look on while a
fellow-creature gasps out in torture the last reluctant breath,
is a position that has always given a mysteriously horrible
pleasure to the majority. And on this particular day more
than the customary morbid diversion was expected, for a
rumour had gone the round of the populace that two notori-
ous thieves were to be executed at the same time as the
young " prophet' ' out of Galilee. Such a spectacle was as-
suredly worth waiting for ! and accordingly they waited, a
motley-garbed, restless, expectant mass of men and women,
the perpetual hum of their voices sounding like the noise
made by thousands of swarming bees, the while they occa-
sionally varied the monotony of speech by singing, stamping
and whistling. The Roman soldiers, greatly disconcerted by
Pilate's sudden and inexplicable illness, and in their own mind
superstitiously connecting it with some spell they imagined
to have been secretly wrought by the " Nazarene," were now
in no mood for trifling. Dragging off the scarlet robe from
their Prisoner, they hastily flung His own raiment upon Him,
and with many dark and threatening looks, led him forth,
closely guarded.
The morning was intensely hot and bright, in the outer
court a fountain was in full play, casting up a silvery column
of foam-dust to the burning blue of the sky. The whole
band of soldiers halted while their centurion conferred apart
with the criminal executioner, whose duty it was to provide
crosses suitable for the legal mode of punishment then in
58 BARABBAS
vogue, and who also was bound to assist in nailing those
condemned in the barbarous position needful to ensure a
lingering and horrible death. Three crosses were required
that day, he said, and he was in doubt as to whether any
that he had were sufficiently strong enough to sustain the
powerful and splendid figure of the Captive now pointed out
to him.
" I' faith I am sorry he is condemned," he muttered with a
touch of commiseration in his rough accents " He hath a
noble presence, and of a surety to slay him thus shamefully
is an error, Petronius. Believe me, so thou wilt find it !
llememberest thou not how one of thine own calling, dwell-
ing in Capernaum, had his servant sick of a palsy, and yonder
man did heal him without so much as visiting the house
where he lay ? I tell thee, mischief will come of his death.
And now I look at thee, thou hast a sober air, thou art not
in tune with this deed, methinks?"
Petronius lowered his eyes, and meditatively traced out the
pattern of the pavement with the point of his drawn weapon.
" Our governor hath not condemned him" he said in a
low tone " And therefore Rome is not responsible. Pilate
would have saved him. but the Jews have willed otherwise."
" Ay, ay !" grumbled the executioner, himself a native of
Apulia, " The Jews, the Jews ! Dark and bloody are their
annals, Jove knoweth ! and they have been known to murder
their own children to please the savage deity they worship.
Look you, the fat priests devour the firstlings of a flock in
their own houses, pretending 'tis their God who hath such
greedy appetite, and those among them who accumulate
more gold than is lawful will swear that even high rates of
usury are the divine blessing on the righteous ! Hypocrites
all, Petronius ! but yonder Prisoner is not a Jew ?"
The centurion looked wistfully at the Condemned, now re-
clothed in His own white garments, but still wearing the
crown of thorns. A smile irradiated His fair face, His soft
eyes were watching with tenderness the dainty caperings of a
butterfly that fluttered for mere joyous caprice just near enough
to the fountain to catch a drop or two on its azure wings, and
then danced off again high up into the sunshine. Eiren so
absorbed and gentle might have been His aspect when He
said, " Behold the lilies of the field! They toil not, neither
do they spin, and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all
his glory was not arrayed like one of these /"
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 59
"He is not, he cannot be a Jew?" repeated the execu-
tioner questioningly.
" Yea verily he is a Jew," replied Petronius at last with a
slight sigh " Or so it is reported. He is of that vile Naza-
reth ; the son of Joseph the carpenter there, and Mary hia
mother is, or was, here, a while ago with the women."
The executioner shook his head obstinately.
" Thou wilt never make me believe it !" he said " He
hath the air of an alien to this land. Look you, there is no
face like his in the crowd, he is neither Greek nor Roman
nor Egyptian, but though I cannot fix his race I would
swear his father was never a Jew ! And as for the cross, ye
will all have to wait while I go and test which is the strongest
and least worn, for, on my life, it must lift up a Hercules 1
Seest thou not what height and muscle ? what plenitude of
vigour ? By Jupiter ! an' I were he I would make short work
of the guard !"
Chuckling hoarsely at what he considered an excellent jest,
he disappeared on his gruesome errand, taking three or four
of the soldiers with him. The rest of the troop remained
surrounding the " Nazarene," while the crowd of spectators
increased every moment, extending itself far into the street
beyond. All the people were growing more and more excited
and impatient, some of them were conscious of a certain
vague disappointment and irritation. There was no amuse-
ment in seeing a Man condemned to death if He refused to be
interested in His own fate, and stood waiting as resignedly and
patiently as this " prophet of Nazareth" who looked more
happy than pained. Several minutes elapsed, and the cross
had not yet been brought. The enforced delay seemed likely
to be prolonged, and several thirsty souls edged themselves out
of the crush to get refreshment while they had time and
opportunity. Among these was Barabbas. Some former old
acquaintances of his had taken possession of him, and now
insisted upon his accompanying them, somewhat against his
will, into an inn close by, where they drank his health with
boisterous acclamations. Barabbas ate and drank with them,
and the natural avidity of an almost starving man enabled
him to assume the air of a boon companionship he was far
from feeling, but when his appetite was moderately appeased,
he pushed away the remaining morsels and sat silent and ab-
stracted in the midst of the loud laughter and jesting around
him.
60 B ARABS AS
4 ' What ails thee, man?" cried one of his entertainers
presently u Thou art duller than a dying dog ! Where is
thy once reckless merriment ?"
" Gone !" answered Barabbas harshly, his black eyes grow-
ing more sombre and serious as he spoke, " In the old days I
was merry, and I knew not why, now I am sad, and know
not the cause of my sadness. I have suffered long, I am
weary ! and, . . . and, . . . methinks it is a crime to slay
yon Nazarene 1"
His words were met with laughter.
" By my soul, Barabbas," exclaimed one man, clanking his
pewter goblet on the table as a sign that he desired it refilled.
" Thou hast come out of prison with the sentiments of a
woman ! Thou, the wolf, hast crawled forth a lamb ! Ha ha
ha ha ! Who would have thought it ? Thou that didst so
neatly slip thy knife into the mealy maw of Gabrias, thou, of
all men whimperest for another death which concerns thee not,
and is, by all the laws, deserved."
"'Tis not deserved!" muttered Barabbas "The Man is
innocent !"
He paused, and rose from his seat involuntarily. His com-
panions stopped drinking and stared at him.
"I tell ye all," he continued firmly " there is no sin in
that young Prophet. He hath done many good things by
your own report, and, looking at him a while since I
saw"
He broke off, there was a strange terror in his eyes and
he shuddered.
" What?" cried his friends in chorus " Surely thou hast a
devil, thou also ! What sawest thou ?"
" Nothing !" and Barabbas turned upon them with a chill
smile " Nothing that ye would have seen or cared to see !"
They all regarded him in open-eyed wonderment. Was this
indeed Barabbas ? this meditative, wistful, thinking man ?
Was this the lawless, wild associate of the roystering band of
rebels who, with a little surface knowledge and bombastic
prating in the open streets had actually succeeded, not so very
long ago, in disturbing the peace of the city of Jerusalem?
And while they remained silent, dumbfoundered and perplexed,
a calm voice, melodious yet ironical, suddenly addressed them
" Pardon me, excellent sirs, for breaking in upon cheerful
converse, but I seek to pay homage where homage is due,
and I would fain give humble greeting, I also, to him who is
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 61
elected of the people. Great are the children of Israel, be-
loved in all ages of the one true God who naturally hath no
sort of interest in the fates of other nations ! great is their
verdict on every question , and for ever unerring their decision I
Great must he be who fortunately wins their favour, there-
fore, great is Barabbas, and to him I proffer salutation !"
No language could adequately describe the various inflections
of tone in which this little speech was given. Every note in
the gamut of delicate satire seemed sounded, and instinctively
all present turned to look at the speaker. And as they looked,
many shrank back in evident apprehension, Barabbas how-
ever, being unacquainted with the new-comer, regarded him
indifferently as he would any other stranger, though not with-
out a certain touch of curiosity. He saw before him an olive-
complexioned man of rather small stature, slight in build, yet
apparently wiry and vigorous, with a somewhat long oval face,
straight black brows, and eyes so glittering and strangely-
coloured that they might have been iridescent jewels set in
his head rather than organs of vision. They were dark eyes
apparently, but there was a curious dull gold tint in the iris
like clouded amber, that made them look almost light at times
and gave them a singularly unearthly lustre and expression.
Their owner was clad in a foreign garb of soft, yellowish
material girded about him with a broad band of flexible gold,
the upper part of his loose mantle formed a kind of hood
or cowl which was partially pulled over his thick black hair,
and fastened at his throat with a clasp of opals. He seemed
discreetly amused at the disquieting effect his appearance had
on most of the men assembled at the inn, but he advanced
nevertheless and bowed profoundly to Barabbas, who gave him
no other response than a stare.
" Excellent Barabbas !" he continued in the same curiously
cold yet perfectly sweet accents, " Deny me not I pray thee,
the satisfaction of thy friendship ! I am but a wanderer and
an alien in these provinces of Judaea so specially favoured by
a discriminating Jehovah, a veritable barbarian in my ways,
knowing little, though studying much, but in matters pertain-
ing to thy welfare, thou shalt perchance find me useful, whether
thy quest be of war or love !"
Barabbas started, one of his friends pulled him aside, whis-
pering,
" 'Tis Melchior. Best humour him ! He hath an evil nama
and holdeth sovereignty over devils !"
62 BARABBAS
" I know him not" said Barabbas aloud, disdaining the
warniug nods and winks of the various members of the com-
pany present, "And therefore his greeting profiteth me
nothing."
The stranger smiled.
" I love honesty !" he said suavely, " And thou, Barabbas,
art honest!" A rough ripple of subdued mirth went the
round of the men, and Barabbas winced as though the point
of a lash had stung his flesh. " True it is that thou knowest
me not ; equally true it is that thou shall know me. Melchior
is my name as thy ear-whisperer hath stated, but of sovereignty
over devils I am innocent, inasmuch as I rule no men !" His
eyes lightened and flashed a topaz brilliancy under the heavy
blackness of his brows as he continued " What motley garb
is this?" and he felt between finger and thumb the texture of
the embroidered mantle which had been flung round Barabbas
on his release from prison " Thou art all but naked beneath
this glistering show, a noble emblem of humanity in very
truth 1 Even thus did I expect to find thee, robed as a king
without, but within, the merest squalid nudity ! Follow me
and be cleansed of thy prison foulness, I have my dwelling
for the present here in this hostelry, and in mine upper cham-
ber thou can'st prank thyself out in fitting attire to meet the
eyes of thy beloved, for as thou art, most surely she will laugh
at thee ! Hath she not laughed at thee before ? Come and be
garmented for festival !"
But Barabbas held his ground, though his dark cheek flushed
at the stranger's familiar allusions to his " beloved." Drawing
the rich robe he wore more closely about him, he gave a ges-
ture of haughty refusal.
" I obey no man's bidding," he said, " I have not been so
lately set at liberty that I should now become a slave. Think
me not churlish that I refuse thy proffered service, time passes
swiftly and behold, in the space of .moments I go hence with
the multitude, I fain would see the death of the condemned
Nazarene."
Melchior's face changed. A dark shadow swept across his
features, an expression of mingled sorrow and solemnity.
" Thou shalt most assuredly behold that death !" he said,
" For will not all the world be there? 'Tis Humanity's great
Feast of Slaughter 1 the apotheosis of the Jews ! A true
gala ! a thing to remember ! mark me, a thing to remember
I tell thee 1 For in ages to come perchance, the story of how
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 63
this Man of Nazareth was slain to satisfy the blood-thirstiness
of the God-elected children of Israel, may serve as a wonder
and terror of time !" He paused, his countenance cleared,
and he resumed his former ironical tone, " Yea, thou shalt
see the prophet die, but believe me when I tell thee that she
whom thou lovest will also be there, and hast thou the look of
a lover ? clad thus foolishly, and uncouth as an escaped bear ?"
He laughed lightly. " Yet nevertheless I will not ask thee to
do my bidding, most self-reliant and excellent Barabbas 1 I do
but tell thee that in my upper chamber here thou can'st be
decently garbed if so thou wiliest. And maybe thou shalt hear
private news of import. Please thy humour ! Follow, not
me, but thine own inclination 1"
He nodded carelessly to the staring company, and passing
through the room with a soft almost cat-like tread, he began
to ascend a dark and narrow flight of stone stairs leading to
the second floor of the inn. Startled and bewildered by his
mysterious words and manner, Barabbas watched the yellow
glimmer of his garments vanishing upward by degrees till he
had quite disappeared, then, like a man driven by some irre-
sistible necessity, he muttered an incoherent excuse to his
amazed companions, and in a blind, unreasoning, unconquerable
impulse, rushed after him.
CHAPTER X.
" HE is mad !"
" Melchior, or Barabbas, which ?"
" Both !"
These and other similar exclamations broke from most of
the men assembled in the common room of the inn. Melchior's
sudden entrance, his conversation with the newly-liberated
criminal, and finally, his departure followed by the headlong
exit of Barabbas himself had all taken place within a few
minutes, and the incident had left an impression of stupefied
wonderment on those who had witnessed it.
" Who is this Melchior ? what is his calling ?" demanded
one man suspiciously " What country is he of? how cometh
he here in Jerusalem ?"
There was a silence. No one seemed ready with a reply.
64 BARABBAS
The keeper of the inn, a middle-aged Jew 01 servile and pro
pitiatory manners, edged himself gradually within the circle of
his customers, and coughing softly to attract attention, said
" Methinks, good sirs, ye mistake him greatly in giving him
an evil repute merely for the unexplained frequency of his
visits to the city. He is assuredly a man of wealth and wis-
dom, though as to what land he journeyed from, none can
say truly, though of my own poor opinion, I would deem his
birthplace in Egypt. Concerning his business here he hath
none save the following of his own pleasure, he comes and
goes, and hath ever left some poor man the richer for his
sojourn."
" Like enough thou speakest well of him, Ben Ezra !"
laughed one of his auditors " Thou knowest the trick of
lining thy pouch with gold ! 'Twould be but a fool's error to
wag thy tongue against this alien whom thou shelterest while
thou dost charge him double fees for food and lodgement !
Go to! Thou can'st not judge of him fairly, good ready
money doth quickly purchase good opinion !"
Ben Ezra smiled amicably and began to clear away some of
the emptied pewter flagons.
" Doubtless ye are all well-skilled in such matters" he re-
plied indifferently " No host maligns a paying customer.
Nevertheless, the worthy Melchior comporteth himself with
such excellent good discretion that I see no cause wherein ye
should take fear of him, he hath done no man harm."
" Not that thou knowest of, belike" said a surly fellow,
rising from his seat, and preparing to depart " But they that
are reported harmless, often by spells and incantations, inflict
most deadly injuries. Witness yon crazed and sinful Prophet
of Nazareth ! hath he not the face of an angel ? and yet he
hath cursed the Holy Temple, and sworn that not one stone
shall remain upon another to show what it hath been 1 Lo,
for such evil boasting his death shall scarce atone ! And did
not his mere glance this morning send Pilate almost mad, and
plunge him in a deadly swoon ?"
" Ay, ay ! Thou sayest truly !"
And, reminded of the impending triple execution about to
take place, the whole company rose up to leave the inn, and
began to pay their various reckonings with the landlord.
While they were thus engaged, a great roar went up from the
waiting multitude outside, a hoarse discordant sound of sav-
agery and menace. Glancing comprehensively at one another
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 65
the party of wine-drinkers hastily settled their accounts and
made a general rush from the inn, out into the street, where,
though they knew it not, the most strangely imposing and
wondrous spectacle that was ever seen or would ever be seen
in the world awaited them, the spectacle of a God led forth
to die !
The crowd had increased so enormously that the road was
completely blocked. Tradesmen with hand- carts and pedlars
leading pack-mules could not pass, and had to turn back and
find their way through the dark and tortuous by-streets of the
city to their various destinations. Children lost themselves in
the crush, and went about crying, in search of their parents,
a party of travellers newly arrived from Damascus by the
caravan route, got wedged with their worn-out horses and
mules in the thick of the mob and could not move an inch.
As far as the eye could see, the vari-coloured throng heaved
restlessly to and fro under the blaze of the brilliant sun, and
moving slowly and majestically in the midst of all, came the
thorn-crowned " Nazarene." His hands and arms had been
newly and more strongly bound, and were now tied behind
Him so that He could not touch anything, or attempt by so
much as a gesture to awaken the sympathies of the people.
Soldiers encircled Him with a ring of glittering spears, and
following Him closely came four men, of whom one was the
executioner, labouring under the cumbrous weight of a huge
Cross some ten feet in height, the lower end of which scraped
gratingly along in the dust, the thick beam being too heavy to
lift up completely. As they caught sight of the cruel instru-
ment of death, the populace set up an ecstatic yell of ferocious
applause and satisfaction, and turned their faces all with one
accord towards the place of execution, which they understood
to be a small hill outside the town, sometimes called Golgotha,
and sometimes Calvary. At the moment when the huge
human mass thus began to move in one pre-determined direc-
tion, two additional spectators joined the swarming rabble,
they were Barabbas and Melchior. Barabbas, clad in tunic,
vest and mantle of a dense blackish purple, bordered with
gold, his rough beard combed and trimmed, and a loose hood
of white linen pulled over the thick mass of his wild black hair,
looked a very different personage to the half-naked, reckless
ruffian who had been set free of the criminal dungeons that
very morning. He kept close beside his mysterious new ac-
quaintance, watching him anxiously from time to time a*
6*
66 BARABBAS
though afraid to lose sight of him. His countenance was
grave and composed and not without a certain harsh beauty of
expression, and he walked with an informal grace and ease
that was almost dignity. Now and then his eyes wandered over
the crowd in front of him to the white figure of the condemned
"King of the Jews," whose shining head, circled with the
prickly coronal, rose visibly like a featured Star above all the
rest of the surging thousands.
" 'Tis a crime to slay the innocent," he muttered. " Con-
done it as they will, it is a crime."
Melchior gave him a keen critical glance.
" Nothing is a crime if the people swear by it" he said
" And to slay the innocent hath ever been man's delight.
Doth he not trap the singing-birds and draw his knife across
the throat of the fawn ? Doth he not tear up the life of a
blameless tree and choke the breath of flowers in the grasp of
his hand? What would'st thou, thou meditative black-browed
son of Judaea ? Physically or morally, the innocent are always
slain in this world. No one believes in a pure body still less
do they believe in a pure soul. Pure soul and pure body are
there in yonder thorn- crowned Monarch of many lands, and
lo you how we all troop forth to see him die !"
Barabbas was silent, troublously revolving in his own mind
the phrase " Monarch of many lands."
" What is death ?" pursued Melchior, " Why doth it seem
so hard a matter? "Tis the end of all men. Yet whosoever
slays the guilty shall be punished, witness thyself, Barabbas,
who did'st rid the world of a lying knave. Clad in the skin
of hypocrisy was the eminent Gabrias, and thou did'st send him
into outer darkness with one thrust of thy blade ! That was
not wisely done, thou fierce-blooded rascal ! for he was an evil
man, protected by the law, whereas a good and just Man walk-
eth yonder to His death, condemned by the Jews, and the
Jews are not punished yet !"
As he finished speaking there was a loud crashing noise and
a shout, and the march of the multitude suddenly stopped.
The great Cross had slipped from the grasp of the men sup-
porting it, and its huge weight falling heavily sideways had
well-nigh crushed one of the crowd who had ventured too near
it. It was a matter of some difficulty to get it up from the
ground again, and when the bearers had at last succeeded in
partially raising it, they paused to take breath, and looked
about them for assistance. At that moment a huge, broad-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 67
shouldered, black -haired, tawny-skinned fellow was seen to be
elbowing his way along in a contrary direction to that in which
the mob were pressing, and as he came, many of the people
shouted noisy and derisive greetings. His great height made
him conspicuous, for he towered above all the heads of the
throng except that of the " Nazarene" and the long almond
shape of his eyes, his dark skin, and manner of dress bespoke
him of a very different race to the elect of Judaea. As he
pushed through the press like a giant thrusting aside pig-
mies, some of the soldiers recognised him, and shouted his
name.
" Simon !"
" Come hither, Simon ! Lend thine aid ! Hast thou Rufus
and Alexander with thee?"
" What news from Cyrene ?"
" Thou art here in good time, Simon ! For once we shall
find use for thee !"
Hearing these and sundry other vociferations, the black-
browed Cyrenian paused and looked scornfully about him.
"What is this fool's feast of howling?" he demanded in
an angry tone " Are you emptying Jerusalem of her thieves
and rascals ? Then shall the city be left desolate ! Whither
go ye ?" Then, as his fiery eyes roved over the throng and
he caught sight of the fair face of the doomed Captive
" What enslaved Prince have ye there ?"
Wild yells and execrations drowned his voice, and a con-
siderable portion of the mob closed in and began to hustle
him roughly.
" Art thou drunken with new wine that thou dost see a
prince in a malefactor ? Thieves and rascals dost thou call
us, thou dog !"
" Let him bear the Cross of the Nazarene !" shouted one
of the roughs, " He hath often boasted he hath the strength
of four men !"
" Ay, ay ! Let him carry the Cross ! 'Tis fitting toil for
a Cyrenian jack-ass such as he !"
And they continued to press round him with much hooting
and swearing. The huge Simon was about to strike out with
his fists and fight his way free of them all, when suddenly,
right across the heads of the multitude, he met the straight,
luminous, penetrating look of the Christ. Something shot
through his veins like fire, his strong limbs trembled, a
strange surprise and fear benumbed his mental faculties,
68 BARABBAS
and he mechanically allowed himself to be pushed along to
the spot where the bearers of the Cross still rested, taking
breath, and wiping the sweat from their brows."
" Welcome, Simon !" said one of them with a grin " Thy
broad back shall for once do us good service ! Where are thy
sons?"
" What need ye of them ?" growled Simon roughly,
" Surely they have been in Jerusalem these many days."
" Rufus hath been wine-bibbing," piped a lad standing
by, " And Alexander hath been seen oft at the money-
changers' !"
" And thou art a prating infant," retorted Simon " Who
gave thee leave to note the actions of grown men? In
Gyrene thou would'st be whipped for opening thy mouth
before thy betters."
" Callest thou thyself my betters !" said the boy derisively,
" Thou mud-skinned rascal ! Take up the Cross and see
thou stumble not !"
For one second Simon looked as though he were about to
strike the lad to the earth, but he was surrounded by the
Jewish mob and the Roman soldiers, and there was the mag-
netic impression upon him of two splendid sorrowful Eyes
that had, in one lightning glance, expressed a silent wish, a
dumb yet irresistible command ; and therefore he stood mute,
displaying no resentment. Nor did he make the least attempt
to resist when, with jeers and laughter, the soldiers lifted the
great Cross and laid its entire, unsupported weight upon his
shoulders.
" How likest thou that, thou giant of the mountain and
the sea!" screamed an excitable old woman in the crowd,
shaking her wrinkled fist at him, " Wilt vaunt again of thy
city set on a hill, and the vigour thou inhalest from thy tufts
of pine? Shall we not hear thy sinews crack, thou ruffian
of Gyrene, who doth dare to mock the children of Israel 1"
But Simon replied not. He had settled the Cross steadily
in position, and now, clasping its lower beam with both mus-
cular arms, appeared to carry its massive weight with extraor-
dinary and even pleasurable ease. The soldiers gathered
round him in amaze, such herculean vigour was something
of a miracle, and awakened their reluctant admiration. Pe-
tronius, the centurion, approached him.
" Can'st thou in very truth bear the Cross?" he asked, he
was a mercifully-minded man, and of himself would neither
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY &9
have incited a mob to cruelty nor soldiers to outrage " 'Tis
some distance yet to Calvary, wilt venture thus far?"
Simon lifted his black leonine head, his eyes had grown
soft and humid, and a faint smile trembled on his bearded lips.
" I will venture with this burden to the end of the world !"
he answered, and there was a deep thrill of tenderness in his
voice that made its roughness musical ; " 'To me 'tis light as a
reed newly plucked by the river ! Waste no words concerning
my strength or my body's ableness, lead on with yonder
crowned Man I follow 1"
Petronius stared at him in undisguised wonderment, but said
no more. And once again the multitude began to move, crush-
ing onward like the troublous waves of a dark sea, all flowing
in one direction, and illumined only by the golden beacon
splendour of that Divine Glory in their midst, the god-like
visage, the stedfast eyes and radiant head of the " King of the
Jews." And the tramping feet of the hurrying thousands
awakened from the stones of the road a sullen continuous echo
of thunder, as with shouts and shrieks and oaths and laughter
they pressed forward, athirst for blood, forward, and on to
Calvary !
CHAPTER XL
THE sun now rode high in the heavens, and the scorching
heat became almost unendurable. The morning's trial had
begun earlier and lasted longer than in ordinary cases, owing to
Pilate's indecision, and after the final pronouncement of the
people's verdict, there had still been delays, so that time had
worn on imperceptibly till it was past mid-day. The perfect
blue of the sky was of such a deep and polished luminance
that it suggested a dome of bright burning metal rather than
air, from which the vertical light-rays darted, sharp as needles,
plunging their hot points smartingly into the flesh. Jerusalem
lay staring up at the brilliant glare, its low white houses look-
ing almost brittle in the blistering flames of noon, here and
there tall palms shot up their slender brown stems and tufts of
dusty green against the glassy dazzle of the clear ether, and,
hanging over the roofs of some of the best-built dwellings, the
large loose leaves of the fig-trees lolled lazily, spreading wide
and displaying on their branches ripe fruit ready to break into
fO BARABBAS
crimson pulp at a touch. Full in the hlaze of the sunshine the
splendid Temple of Solomon on Mount Moriah glistened like
a huge jewel, its columns and porticoes defined with micro-
scopical distinctness and clearly visible from every quarter of
the city, while at certain glimmering points of distance the
monotonous outlines of buildings and street corners were re-
lieved by the pink flush of cactus-flowers and the grey-green
of olive-boughs. Over all the scene there brooded a threaten-
ing stillness as of pent-up thunder, and this heavy calm of
the upper air presented itself in singular opposition to the
tumultuous roaring of the crowd below, whose savage irrita-
bility and impatience were sensibly increased by the parching
dry ness of the atmosphere. Pouring through the streets in a
lever of excitement that rose higher with every onward step,
the heat and fatigue of their march seemed to swell their fury
rather than diminish it, and they bellowed like wild beasts as
they scrambled, pushed and tore along, each man ravenously
eager to be among the first to arrive at the place of execution.
And by and by, when the soldiers began to halt at various
wine-shops on their way to quench the devouring thirst induced
by the choking dust and the stifling weather, the multitude
were not slow in following their example. Drink was pur-
chased and passed about freely in cups and flagons, and its
effect was soon seen. Disorderly groups of men and women
began to dance and sing, some pretended to preach, others
to prophesy, one of the roughs offered a goblet of wine to
Simon of Gyrene, and because he steadily refused it, dashed it
violently on the Cross he carried. The red liquid trickled off
the wood like blood, and the fellow who had cast it there gave
a tipsy yell of laughter.
" Lo 'tis baptized !" he cried to the applauding mob, " With
a better baptism than that of headless John !"
His dissolute companions roared their appreciation of the
jest, and the discordant hubbub grew more and more deafen-
ing. With that curious fickleness common to crowds, every
one seemed to have forgotten Barabbas, for whose release they
had so recently and eagerly clamoured. They were evidently
not aware of his presence among them, probably they did not
recognise him, clad as he was in sober and well-ordered apparel.
He was in the thick of the press however, and watched the
coarse half-drunken antics of those around him with a pained
and meditative gravity. Occasionally his eyes grew restless
and wandered over the heaving mass of people in troubled
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 71
search, as though looking for something lost and incalculably
precious. Melchior, always beside him, observed this and
smiled somewhat satirically.
" She is not there," he said " Thinkest thou she would
mingle with this vulgar swarm ? Nay, nay ! She will come,
even as the high- priests will come, by private by-ways, per-
chance the excellent Caiaphas himself will bring her."
" Caiaphas !" echoed Barabbas doubtfully" What knoweth
she of Caiaphas ?"
" Much !" replied Melchior. " His wife is one of her friends
elect. Have I not told thee, thou siraple-souled barbarian, to
remember that thou hast been lost to the world for eighteen
months? To a woman 'tis an ample leisure wherein to work
mischief ! Nay, be not wrathful ! 'tis my alien way of speech,
and I am willing to believe thy maiden a paragon of all the
virtues till"
" Till what?" demanded Barabbas suspiciously.
" Till it is proved otherwise !" said Melchior. " And that
she is beauteous is beyond all question, and beauty is all that
the soul of a man desireth. Nevertheless, as I told thee awhile
agone, 'twas her brother that betrayed the ' Nazarene.' "
" I marvel at it !" murmured Barabbas " Judas was ever
of an open candid nature."
" Thou did'st know him well ?" questioned Melchior with
one of his keen looks.
" Not well, but sufficiently" and Barabbas flushed a shamed
red as he spoke " He was one of my fellow- workers in the
house of Shadeen, the merchant I told thee of"
" The Persian dealer in pearls and gold ? Ah !" and Mel-
chior smiled again, " And, all to please the sister of this so
candid Judas, thou did'st steal jewels and wert caught in thy
theft ! Worthy Barabbas ! Methinks that for this Judith of
thine, thou did'st commit all thy sins!"
Barabbas lowered his eyes.
" She craved for gems," he said, in the tone of one prof-
fering suitable excuse, " And I took a necklet of pure pearls.
They were suited to her maidenhood, and seemed to me better
placed round her soft dove's throat than in the musty coffer of
Shadeen."
" Truly a notable reason for robbing thy employer ! And
thy plea for the right to commit murder was equally simple,
Gabrias the Pharisee slandered the fair one, and thou with a
knife-thrust did'st silence his evil tongue ! So ! to speak hon-
72 BARABBAS
estly 'tis this Judith Iscariot is the cause of all thy sufferings
and thy imprisonment and yet thou lovest her !"
" If thou hast seen her" murmured Barabbas with a sigh.
" I have !" returned Melchior tranquilly " She is willing to
be seen ! Is she not the unrivalled beauty of the city, and
wherefore should she be chary of her charms ? They will not
last for ever ; best flourish them abroad while yet they are fresh
and fair. Nevertheless they have made of thee both thief and
murderer."
Barabbas did not attempt to contradict the truth of this piti-
less statement.
" And if all were known" pursued Melchior, " the sedition
in which thou wert concerned perchance arose from her per-
suasion ?"
" No, no !" averred Barabbas quickly " There were many
reasons. We are under tyranny ; not so much from Home as
from our own people, who assist to make the laws. The priests
and the Pharisees rule us, and many are the abuses of au-
thority. The poor are oppressed, the wronged are never
righted. Now I have read many a Greek and Roman scroll,
and have even striven to study somewhat of the wisdom of the
Egyptians, and I have the gifts of memory and ready speech,
so that I can, if needful, address a multitude. I fell in with
some of the disaffected, and gave them my service in their
cause, I know not how it chanced, but surely there is a
craving for freedom in the breast of every man ? and we,
we are not free."
" Patience ! ye shall have wondrous liberty ere long !" said
Melchior, a dark look flashing from his eyes " For the time is
coming when the children of Israel shall rule the land with
rods of iron ! The chink of coin shall be the voice of their
authority, and yonder thorn-crowned Spirit will have lived on
earth in vain for those who love gold more than life. The
triumph of the Jews is yet to be ! Long have they been the
captive and the conquered, but they shall make captives in
their turn, and conquer the mightiest kings. By fraud, by
falsehood, by cunning, by worldly-wisdom, by usury, by every
poisoned arrow in Satan's quiver they shall rule ! Even thy
name, Barabbas, shall serve them as a leading title ; 'tis thou
shalt be < King of the Jews' as far as this world holds, for
He who goeth before us is King of a wider nation a nation
of immortal spirits over whom gold has no power !"
Barabbas gazed at him in awe, understanding little of what
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 73
he meant, but chilled by the stern tone of his voice which
seemed to have within it a jarring note of menace and warn-
ing.
" What nation dost thou speak of" he murmured, " What
wor ld"
"What world?" repeated Melchior, "No single world,
but a thousand million worlds! There, far above us" and
he pointed to the dazzling sky, " is the azure veil which hides
their courses and muffles their music, but they are existent
facts, not dreamer's fancies, huge spheres, vast systems
sweeping onward in their appointed ways, rich with melody,
brimming with life, rounded with light, and yonder Man of
despised Nazareth, walking to His death, knows the secrets
of them all !"
Stricken with a sudden terror, Barabbas stopped abruptly
and caught the impassioned speaker by the arm.
"What sayest thou?" he gasped "Art thou mad? or
hast thou too, beheld the Vision? For I have thought
strange and fearful things since I looked upon His face and
saw Nay, good Melchior, why should this crime be visited
upon Judsea? Let me harangue the people, perchance it
is not yet too late for rescue !"
" Rescue !" echoed Melchior " Rescue a lamb from wolves,
a fawn from tigers, or more difficult still a Faith from
priestcraft ! Let be, thou rash son of blinded passion, let be !
What is designed must be accomplished."
He was silent for a little space, and seemed absorbed in
thought. Barabbas walked beside him, silent too, but full of
an inexplicable horror and fear. The surging mob howled
and screamed around them, their ears were for the moment
deaf to outer things. Presently Melchior looked up and the
amber gleam in his eyes glittered strangely, as he said
" And Judas, Judas Iscariot, thou sayest, was of a simple
nature ?"
" He seemed so when I knew him" answered Barabbas
with an effort, for his thoughts were in a tangle of distress
and perplexity " He was notable for truth and conscientious-
ness, he was much trusted, and kept the books of Shadeen.
At times he had wild notions of reform, he resented tyranny,
and loathed the priests. Yea, so much did he loathe them
that he never would have entered the synagogue, had it not
been to please his father, and more specially Judith, his only
sister whom he loved. So much he once told me. One day
74 BARABBAS
he left the city in haste and secrecy, none knew whither h
went, and after that"
"After that thou did'st steal Shadeen's pearls for thy
love and slay thy love's slanderer," finished his companion
serenely, " and thou wert plunged in prison for thy follies ;
and narrowly hast thou escaped being crucified this day."
Barabbas looked up, his black eyes firing with a sudden
ardour.
" I would have died willingly to save yon kingly Man !' '
he said impulsively.
Melchior regarded him steadily, and his own eyes softened.
" Breaker of the law, thief and murderer as thou art con-
victed of being," he said, " thou hast something noble in thy
nature after all ! May it count to thy good hereafter ! And
of Judas I can tell thee somewhat. When he departed
secretly from Jerusalem, he journeyed to the borders of the
Sea of Galilee, and there did join himself in company with
the Prophet of Nazareth and His other disciples. He wan-
dered with Him throughout the land, I myself saw him
near Capernaum, and he was ever foremost in service to his
Master. Now, here in Jerusalem last night, he gave Him
up to the guard, and lo, the name of ' Judas' from hence-
forth will stand for ' traitor' to the end of time !"
Barabbas shuddered, though he could not have told why.
" Doth Judith know of this ?" he asked.
A fleeting cold smile hovered on Melchior's lips.
" Judith knoweth much, but not all. She hath not seen
her brother since yesterday at sundown."
" Then, hath he fled the city ?"
Melchior looked at him strangely for a moment. Then he
answered
Yea, he hath fled."
" And those others who followed the Nazarene," inquired
Barabbas eagerly " Where are they?"
" They have fled also" returned Melchior. " What else
should they do ? Is it not natural and human to forsake the
fallen?" '
" They are cowards all 1" exclaimed Barabbas hotly.
" Nay !" replied Melchior " They are men !"
And noting his companion's pained expression he added,
" Knowest thou not that cowards and men are one and the
same thing, most excellent Barabbas ? Did'st ever philoso-
phise ? If not, why did'st thou read Greek and Roman scrolls
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 75
and puzzle thy brain with the subtle wisdom of Egypt? No
man was ever persistently heroic, in small matters as well as
great, and famous deeds are ever done on impulse. Study
thyself, note thine own height and breadth thou hast so
much bone and muscle and sinew, 'tis a goodly frame, well
knit together, and to all intents and purposes thou art Man.
Nevertheless a glance from a woman's eyes, a smile on a
woman's mouth, a word of persuasion or suggestion from a
woman's tongue, can make thee steal and commit murder.
Wherefore thou, Man, art also Coward. Too proud to rob, too
merciful to slay, this would be courage, and more than is in
man. For men are pigmies, they scuttle away in droves
before a storm or the tremor of an earthquake, they are
afraid for their lives. And what are their lives ? The lives
of motes in a sunbeam, of gnats in a mist of miasma,
nothing more. And they will never be anything more, till
they learn how to make them valuable. And that lesson will
never be mastered save by the few."
Barabbas sighed.
" Verily thou dost love to repeat the tale of my sins" he
said " Maybe thou dost think I cannot hear it too often.
And now thou callest me coward ! yet I may not be angered
with thee, seeing thou art a stranger, and I, despite the law's
release, am still no more than a criminal, wherefore, because
thou seemest wise and of singular powers, I forbear with thy
reproaches. But 'tis not too late to learn the lesson thou dost
speak of, and methinks even I may make my recovered life of
value?"
" Truly thou mayest" responded Melchior " For if thou
so dost choose, not all the powers of heaven and earth can
hinder thee. But 'tis a business none can guide thee in. Life
is a talisman, dropped freely into thy bosom, but the fitting use
of the magic gift must be discovered by thyself alone."
At that moment, the moving crowd came to a sudden abrupt
halt. Loud cries and exclamations were heard.
" He will die ere he is crucified !"
" Lo ! he faints by the way !"
" If he can walk no more, bind him with ropes and drag him
to Calvary !"
" Bid Simon carry him as well as the Cross 1"
" Support him, ye lazy ruffians !" cried a woman in the
crowd, " Will ye have Caesar told that the Jews are nothing
but barbarians ?"
76 BARABBAS
The clamour grew louder, and the excited mob rolled back
upon itself with a force that was dangerous to life and limb.
People fell and were trampled or bruised, children screamed,
and for a few moments the confusion was terrific.
" Now would be the time to attempt a rescue !" muttered
Barabbas, with some excitement, clenching his fists as though
in eagerness to begin the fray.
Melchior laid a restraining hand on his arm.
" As well try to pluck the sun out of heaven !" he said pas-
sionately " Control thyself, rash fool ! Thou can'st not rescue
One for whom death is the divine fulness of life ! Press for-
ward with me quickly, and we shall discover the cause of this
new delay, but say no word, and raise not a hand in opposi-
tion to Destiny. Wait till the end !"
CHAPTER XII.
WITH these words, and still holding Barabbas firmly by the
arm, he plunged into the thickest part of the crowd which ap-
peared to yield and give mysterious way to his passage, and
presently reached a place of standing-ioom where it was possi-
ble to see what had occasioned the halt and uproar. All the
noise and fury surged round the grand figure of the " Naza-
rene" who stood erect as ever, but nevertheless seemed even in
that upright position to have suddenly lost consciousness. His
face had an unearthly pallor and His eyes were closed, and
it appeared to the soldiers and people as if Death had laid a
merciful hand upon Him ere there was time to torture His life.
In response to sundry calls and shouts for water or some other
cool beverage to rouse the apparently swooning Captive, a man
came out of the dark interior of his dwelling with a goblet con-
taining wine mingled with myrrh and handed it to the centu-
rion in charge. Petronius, with a strange sinking at the heart
and something of remorse and pity, advanced and lifted it to
the lips of the Divine Sufferer, who as the cold rim of the cup
touched Him, opened His starry eyes and smiled. The infi-
nite beauty of that smile and its pathetic tenderness, the vast
pardon and sublime patience it expressed, seemed all at once
to flash a sudden' mysterious light of comprehension into the
hearts of the cruel multitude, for, as if struck by a spell, their
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 77
cries and murmurings ceased, and every head was turned towards
the great Radiance which shone upon them with such intense
and undefinable glory. Petronius staggered back chilled with
a vague horror, he returned the cup of wine and myrrh to
the man who had offered it, the " Nazarene" had not tasted
it, He had merely expressed His silent acknowledgment by
that luminous and exquisite smile. And strangely awful did
it suddenly seem to the bluff centurion that such an One as
He should express gratitude to any man, even by a glance,
though why it appeared unnatural, he, Petronius, could not
tell. Meanwhile some of the women pressing closer and gazing
full into the calm fair face of the Condemned, were touched
into awe and admiration and began to utter exclamations of
regret and compassion, others, more emotional, and encour-
aged by at last hearing an unmistakable murmur of sympathy
ripple wave-like through the throng, broke into loud weeping,
and beat their breasts with frenzied gesticulations of mourning
and despair.
" They will change their minds, these Jews," said one of the
soldiers sullenly, aside to Petronius " With all these wailings
and halts by the way, our work will never be done. Best press
on quickly."
" Hold thy peace !'' retorted Petronius angrily " Seest thou
not the Man faints with fatigue and maybe with the pain of
the scourging ? Let him pause a while."
But He of whom they spoke had already recovered Himself.
His lips parted a little, they trembled and were dewy, as
though some heavenly restorative had just touched them. The
faint colour flowed back to His face, and He looked dreamily
about Him, like a strayed Angel who scarcely recognises the
sphere into which it has wandered. The weeping women
gathered near Him timidly, some carrying infants in their
arms, and, undeterred by the frowns of the soldiers, ventured
to touch His garments. One young matron, a woman of Rome,
lifted a small fair-haired nursling close up to Him that He
might look at it, the little one stretched out its dimpled arms
and tried to clutch first the crown of thorns, and then the
glittering golden hair. The sweet encouragement and strong
tenderness of expression with which the Divine Immortal met
the child's laughing eyes and innocently attempted caresses,
melted the mother's heart, and she gave way to uncontrollable
sobbing, clasping her loved and lovely treasure close, and letting
her tears rain on its nestling head. The other women round
78 BARABBAS
her, sympathetically infected by her example, renewed their
lamentations with such hysterical passion that presently the
gradual mutterings of impatience and discontent that had for
some minutes proceeded from the male portion of the crowd,
swelled into loud remonstrance and indignation.
" What fools are women !" " Press forward !" " We shall
have these whimpering souls preventing the law's fulfilment 1"
"Why delay thus?"
But these angry outcries were of little avail, and the women
still wept and clustered about the " Nazarene," till He Himself
turned His eyes upon them with a look of love and invincible
command which like a charm suddenly hushed their clamour.
At the same moment, a low voice, rendered faint with weari-
ness, dropped on their ears melodiously like a sweet and in-
finitely sad song.
" Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for
yourselves and for your children /" Here a deep sigh inter-
rupted speech ; then the mellow accents gathered strength and
solemnity. " For behold the days are coining in the which they
shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never
bare, and the breasts which never gave suck. Then shall they
begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us ! and to the hills,
Cover us!"
The rich voice faltered for a moment, and the beautiful
eyes of the captive " King" filled with a deep meditative pity
as He added ; " For if they do these things in a green tree,
what shall be done in the dry ?"
The listening women looked up at Him in tearful astonish-
ment, quieted, yet understanding nothing of His words. The
last sentence seemed to them particularly vague and meaning-
less, they could not comprehend that He who thus spoke to
them was thinking of the whole world merely as " a green
tree" or a planet in its prime, and that He foresaw little but
sorrow from the wilful disbelief and disobedience of its inhabi-
tants when it should become old and like the sapless tree,
"dry" Dry of faith, dry of love, dry of all sweet, pure,
holy and unselfish emotion, a mere withered husk of a world
ready to be scattered among the star-dust of the Universe,
having failed to obey its Maker's will, or to accomplish its
nobler destiny. Such premonitory signs are given to thinkers
and philosophers alone, the majority of men have no time
and less inclination to note or accept them'. There is time to
eat, time to steal, time to lie, time to murder, time to become
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 79
a degradation to the very name of Man ; but there is no time
to pause and consider that after all our petty labours and selfish
ambitions, this star on which we live belongs, not to us, but to
God, and that if He but willed it so, it could be blotted out of
space in a second and never be missed, save perhaps for the
one singular distinction that the Divine Christ dwelling upon
it from birth to death, has made it sacred.
None among the Jewish populace that morning were able to
imagine the vast wonder and mystery investing the sublime
Figure which moved amongst them with such tranquil dignity
and resignation, none could foresee the tremendous results
which were destined to spring from the mere fact of His exist-
ence upon earth. All that they saw was a Man of extraordi-
nary physical beauty, who for bold and open teaching of new
doctrines pronounced by the priests to be blasphemous, was
being led to His death. Thrust violently back by the guards,
the frightened group of women who had wept for His suffer-
ings, got scattered among the crowd, and, drifting hither and
thither like blown leaves in a storm, forgot their tears in their
anxiety to protect their children from the reckless pushing and
buffeting of the onward swarming rabble. The disorder was
increased by the terrified starting and plunging of horses and
mules that got entangled in the crowd during the progress of
the procession through the narrow and tortuous streets, but
at last one sharp turn in the road brought them in full view of
Calvary. The people set up a wild unanimous shout, and
Simon of Gyrene carrying the Cross looked up startled and
pained by the discordant roar. For he had been lost in a
dream. Unconscious of the weight he bore, he had seemed
to himself to walk on air. He had spoken no word, though
many around him had mocked him and striven to provoke him
by insolent jests and jeers, he was afraid to utter a sound
lest he should disturb and dispel the strange and delicious
emotion he experienced, emotion which he could not explain,
but which kept him in a state of bewildered wonderment and
ecstasy. There was music everywhere about him, high above
the mutterings and murmurings of the populace, he heard
mysterious throbs of melody as of harps struck by the air,
the hard stones of the road were soft as velvet to his sandalled
feet, the Cross he carried seemed scented with the myrtle and
the rose, and there was no more weight in it than in a gathered
palm-leaf plucked as a symbol of victory. He remembered
now in his youth he had once carried the baby son of a king
80 BARABBA8
on his shoulders down one of the Cyrenian hills to the edge
of the sea, and the child, pleased with the swiftness and ease
of ita journey, had waved aloft a branch of vine in sign of
triumph and joy. The burden of the Cross was no heavier
than that of the laughing child and tossing vine ! But now,
now the blissful journey must end, the rude cries of the
savage multitude aroused him from his reverie, the harp-like
melodies around him rippled away into minor echoes of deep
sadness, and as his eyes beheld the hill of Calvary, he, for
the first time since he began his march, felt weary unto death.
He had never in all his years of life known such happiness as
while carrying the Cross of Him who was soon to be nailed
upon it ; but now the time had come when he must lay it
down, and take up the far more weighty burdens of the world
and its low material claims. Why not die here, he thought
vaguely, with the Man whose radiant head gleamed before him
like the sun in heaven ? Surely it would be well, since here,
at Calvary, life seemed to have a sweet and fitting end ! He
was only a barbarian, uninstructed and ignorant of heavenly
things, he could not analyse what he felt or reason out his
unfamiliar sensations, but some singular change had been
wrought in him, since he lifted up the Cross, thus much he
knew, thus much he realised, the rest was mere wonder and
worship.
As the multitude poured itself towards the place of execu-
tion a party of horsemen dashed through a side-street and
careered up the hill at full gallop, the hoofs of their spirited
steeds tearing up and scattering morsels of the sun-baked turf
like dust in the air as they passed. They were Roman nobles,
visitors to Jerusalem, who hearing of what was about to take
place, had come out to see this singular Jewish festival of
blood. After them followed another group of persons on foot,
and glittering in raiment of various costly hues, these were
Caiaphas, Annas, and many of the members of the Sanhedrim,
accompanied by a select number of the retinue of their vari-
ous households. Meanwhile Barabbas was being guarded and
guided forward by the astute Melchior who with wonderful
dexterity and composure, piloted him through the thickest of
the crush and brought him to a clear space at the foot of the
hill. Just as they reached the spot, several richly -attired
women, some of them veiled, came out of the shady avenues
of a private garden close by and began the ascent at a slow
and sauntering pace. They were laughing and talking gaily
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 81
mong themselves ; one of them, the tallest, walked with a dis-
tinctive air of haughtiness and a swaying suppleness of move-
ment, she had a brilliant flame-coloured mantle thrown over
her head and shoulders.
" Lo, there !" whispered Melchior, grasping Barabbas firmly
by the arm to keep him prisoner " Yonder she goes ! Seest
thou not yon poppy -hued gala garb ? 'Tis the silken sheath
of the flower whose perfume drives thee mad ! the dove-like
desirer of stolen pearls ! the purest and fairest virgin in
Judaea, Judith Iscariot !"
With a fierce cry and fiercer oath, Barabbas strove to wrench
himself from his companion's hold.
" Eelease me !" he gasped " Detain me not thus, or by my
soul, I will slay thee !"
His efforts were in vain ; Melchior's hand, though light, was
firm as iron and never yielded, and Melchior's eyes, flashing
fire, yet cold as ice in expression, rested on the heated angry
face of the man beside him, unswervingly and with a chill
disdain.
" Thou infatuated fool !" he said slowly " Thou misguided
barbarian ! Thou wilt slay me ? ' By thy soul' thou wilt ?
Swear not by thy soul, good ruffian, for thou hast one, strange
as it doth seem ! 'Tis the only positive thing about thee,
wherefore take not its name in vain, else it may visit vengeance
on thee! Judgest thou me as easy to kill as a Pharisee?
Thou art in serious error ! The steel of thy knife would melt
in my flesh, thy hands would fall withered and benumbed
did'st thou presume to lay them violently upon me. Be warned
in time, and pervert not my friendship, for believe me thou
wilt need it presently."
Barabbas looked at him in wild appeal, a frozen weight
seemed to have fallen on his heart, and a sense of being mas-
tered and compelled vexed his impatient spirit. But he was
powerless, he had, on a mere sudden impulse, put himself, he
knew not why, under the control of this stranger, he had
only himself to blame if now his own will seemed paralysed
and impotent. He ceased struggling, and cast a longing glance
after the flame-coloured mantle that now appeared to be float-
ing lightly up the hill of Calvary like a stray cactus-petal on
the air.
" Thou knowest not," he muttered " thou can'st not know
how I have hungered for her face"
"And thou shalt feed on it ere long" rejoined Melchior
82 BARABBAS
sarcastically, " And may it quell thy vulgar appetite ! But
assume at least the appearance of a man, betray not thyself
before her maidens, they will but scoff at thee. Moreover,
bethink thee thou art here as witness of a death, a death far
greater than all love !"
Barabbas sighed, and his head drooped dejectedly on his
breast. His strong harsh features were convulsed with passion,
but the strange force exercised over him by his companion
was too subtle for resistance. Melchior watched him keenly
for a moment ere he spoke again, then he said more gently,
but with earnestness and solemnity
" Lo, they ascend Calvary ! Seest thou not the Condemned
and His guards are already half way up the hill ? Come, let
us follow ; thou shall behold the world agonised and the sun
fade in heaven ! thou shalt hear the conscious thunder roar
out wrath at this symbolic slaughter of the Divine in Man !
No worse murder was ever wrought, none more truly repre-
sentative of humanity ! and from henceforth the earth rolls
on its appointed way in a mist of blood, saved, may-be, but
stained ! stained and marked with the Cross, for ever !"
CHAPTER XIII.
BARABBAS trembled as he heard. Full of apprehensive
trouble and dreary foreboding, he followed his inscrutable new
acquaintance. Some strange inward instinct told him that
there was a terrible truth in Melchior's words, though why
a stranger and alien to Judaea should know more concerning
the mystic " Nazarene" than the Jews themselves was a prob-
lem he could not fathom. Nevertheless he began the brief
ascent of Calvary with a sinking heart, and a sensation that
was very like despair. He felt that something tremendous and
almost incomprehensible was about to be consummated, and
that on the children of Israel for evermore would rest the
curse invoked by themselves. Could God Himself alter tho
deliberately self-chosen fate of a man or a nation ? No ! Even
the depraved and ill-taught Barabbas was mentally conscious
of the awful yet divine immutability of Free-will.
The dry turf crackled beneath the tread as though it wera
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 83
on fire, for the heat was more than ever overpoweringly intense.
Time had worn on till it was nearly three o'clock in the after-
noon, and the broad unshadowed glare of the sun streamed
pitilessly down upon the hill of execution which now presented
the appearance of a huge hive covered thickly with thousands
of swarming, buzzing bees. The crowd had broken up on all
sides, each section of it striving to attain the best point of view
from whence to watch the progress of the dire tragedy about to
be enacted. The fatal eminence sloped upward very gently,
and on cooler days the climb would have scarcely been percep-
tible, but at this fierce hour, when all the world seemed staring
and aflame with wonder, the way appeared difficult and long.
Melchior and Barabbas however, walking side by side, managed
to keep up a moderately swift and even pace, despite the vin-
dictive blaze and dazzle of the sky, and never paused to take
breath till, as they neared the summit, they came upon a little
group of women surrounding the unconscious form of one of
their companions. Barabbas, with a wild idea that his Judith
might be amongst them, sprang eagerly forward, and this time
Melchior let him go. But he was quickly disappointed, no
silken-robed beauty was there, they were all poor, footsore,
sad-faced, ill-clad creatures, some of whom were silently weep-
ing, while only one of them seemed, by her singular dignity
of bearing, to be of a higher rank apart, but she was closely
veiled so that her features were not visible. Their whole at-
tention was centred on the woman who had swooned, and she
appeared, from her exterior condition, to be the poorest of them
all. Clothed only in a rough garment of coarse grey linen
bound under her bosom with a hempen girdle, she lay on the
ground where she had suddenly fallen, like one newly dead, and
the piteous still loveliness of her was such that Barabbas,
though his wild soul mirrored another and far more brilliant
face, could not help but be moved to compassion, as he bent
forward and saw her thus prone and senseless. The chief glory
that distinguished her was her hair, it had come unbound,
and rippled about her in lavish waves of warm yet pale gold,
her features were softly rounded and delicate like those of a
child, and the thick lashes that fringed the closed eyes, being
more darkly tinted than the hair, cast a shadow beneath, sug-
gestive of pain and the shedding of many tears.
" What aileth her ?" asked Barabbas gently.
One or two of the women eyed him doubtfully but offered
uo reply. Melchior had approached to within a certain dis-
54 BARABBAS
tance of the group and there he waited. Barabbas beckoned
him, but seeing he did not stir, went hastily up to him.
" Shall we not be of some service here ?" he demanded
" 'Tis a wondrous fair virgin whom sorrow or pain hath surely
overcome."
" Do as it eeemeth unto thee well," responded Melchior
quietly, looking him full in the face as he spoke ; " neverthe-
less thou must be advised in this matter. Yon ' wondrous
fair virgin,' as thou callest her, is but a woman of ill-fame, a
golden-haired wanton of the city ways called Mary Magdalene."
Barabbas started as if he had been stung. A dark frown
gathered on his brows.
"Mary Magdalene!" he muttered "Of a truth she is a
sinner ! I have heard sundry evil things of her, yet of my-
self I would not be merciless, I could not stone a woman,
. . . but if to-day I see and speak with Judith"
" Enough 1" interrupted Melchior disdainfully " I under-
stand thee ! Thou would'st not sully thyself, good thief, with
even so much as a look from a wanton, Judith being pure as
heaven and Mary black as hell ! Leave her where she lies,
thou moralising murderer, thou true type of the men who
make such women ! leave her to the ministrations of hef own
sex. She whom thou, assassin, dost scorn, hath been brought
to penitence and pardoned by Him who dieth presently, yet
what of that ? 'Tis naught, 'tis naught ! for He must be
crucified, but thou canst lire ! wondrous world that thus
pronounceth equity ! Come, let us onward !"
Barabbas listened, sullenly ashamed.
" If she be penitent 'tis well" he muttered " but why
then goest thou not thyself to her ?"
A sudden gravity clouded the ironical glitter in Melchior's
eyes.
" Why ?" he echoed pensively, then after a pause, " Were
I to tell thee truly why, thou would'st learn more than is yet
fitting to thy nature. Let it suffice to thee to know that
among those women there is One, whom I may not venture to
approach save in worship, for where she treads is holy ground.
For her sake from henceforth, Woman is made Queen ! nay,
look not thus strangely ! thou shalt hear more of this anon."
He resumed his walk sedately, and Barabbas more and moro
troubled and perplexed, gave a disquieted glance backward
over his shoulder at the group now left behind. He saw that
the fainting Magdalene had revived sufficiently to be lifted
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 85
partially to her feet, and he caught the flash of the daziling
sunlight on the falling masses of her luxuriant hair. Then
he turned his eyes away, and bent his looks downward to the
ground, and a silence fell between him and Melchior. AH at
once a shriek of agony tore the air into sharp echoes, followed
by another and yet another. Barabbas stopped, his blood
freezing at the hideous outcry. Unable to speak, he gazed at
his companion in affrighted inquiry.
" 'Tis the first taste of pain such as thou mightest this day
and at this moment have suffered," said Melchior, answering
his look " They are nailing down two thieves. Hearest thou
not the clang of the hammers ? A few paces more and we
shall see the work."
They quickened their steps, and in a couple of minutes
reached the summit of the hill. There they found themselves
in full view of the terrible scene of execution, a pageant of
such tremendous import, such sublime horror, that the imagi-
nation of man can scarcely grasp it, scarcely realise the
consummate bitterness of the awful and immortal tragedy.
The multitude had formed into a complete ring, circling un-
brokenly round the crest of Calvary, while the soldiery had
divided into two lines, one keeping to the right, the other to
the left. At a signal from the centurion, Simon of Cyrene
laid down with tender and lingering reluctance the great Cross
he had so lightly carried, and as he did so, the Man of Naza-
reth, moving tranquilly to the spot indicated to Him by His
guards, took up His position beside the intended instrument
of His death, and there waited patiently for the accomplish-
ment of His fate. The executioners were already busily occu-
pied with part of their dreadful task, for, at the crafty sug-
gestion of Caiaphas the two thieves who had been brought
out from the prison that morning were nailed on their re-
spective crosses first. This was to satisfy the refined cruelty
of the Jewish priests, who by this means sought to overpower
the "Nazarene" with terror by forcing Him to witness the
agonies of those who were destined to suffer in His sacred
company. But herein the bloodthirsty chiefs of the Sanhe-
drim were doomed to disappointment. No shadow of fear
blanched the serene visage of the Divine, not a tremor of
horror or anxiety quivered through that stately frame of heroic
stature and perfect mould. He stood erect, as a king of a
thousand worlds might stand, conscious of power and glory, -
His tall white-robed figure was fully outlined against the burn-
86 BARABBAS
ing sky, and seemed to have gathered from the sun-ray? a
dazzling luminance of its own, every prickly point in His
crown of thorns glistened as with drops of dew, His fair
calm face shone with a beauty not of mortals, and so lightly
did His sandalled feet seem poised on the hot and arid soil
beneath Him, that He scarcely appeared to touch the earth
more than a sunlit cloud may do ere rising again into its na-
tive ether. The land, the sky, the air, the sun, all seemed to
be a part of Himself and to share mysteriously in the knowl-
edge of His presence ; had He spoken one word, one word
of thunderous command, it would have shaken the Universe.
But with that inward force known only to God and the angels,
He held His peace, and His radiant eyes, in their poetic
wistfulness and wonder, seemed saying silently " I go to lift
the curtain from this Death, which all My foolish creatures
fear ! I pass through torturing pain to give weak human
nature courage ! And I descend into the grave as Man, to
prove that Man, though seeming dead, shall rise to life
again !"
Meanwhile the shrieks and cries that had startled Barabbas
were growing louder and wilder. They all proceeded from
one of the doomed thieves, the other was silent. With a
mingling of morbid curiosity and nervous dread, Barabbas
went shrinkingly towards the spot where the executioners were
at work, and gazing at the distorted features of the struggling
criminal gave an irrepressible cry of amazement.
" Hanan !"
Hanan indeed it was, his former fellow-prisoner, with whom
he had fought through iron bars the previous night, and whom
he had left yelling after him that very morning. Hearing
Barabbas speak his name, the wretched man turned his pro-
truding eyes round with a hideous expression of rage and
envy.
" Thou, Barabbas ! Thou, free ? Dog ! Accursed
devil ! What evil conspiracy hast thou worked in to get thy-
self released and me condemned ? Through thee I sinned !
through thee have I come to this ! Coward ! I spit on thee !
Justice ! I will have j ustice ! Thou lying hypocrite ! Did' st
thou not swear to stand by thy friends ? Let be, ye brutes !"
and with a yell he tore his arm away from the men who had
seized it to nail it against the left-hand beam of the cross on
which he was stretched " Thou, thou Barabbas, art thief as
well as I thou art worse than I, for thou art murderer I
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 87
Come thou hither and be tormented in my stead! This
morning thou didst leave me in my cell starved and athirst,
and lo, they came and brought me forth to die, while thou
art here pranked out in soft attire, free free 1 Thou ruffian !
And this is Rome's justice for he Jews! Ah!" and he
screamed furiously, as two or three soldiers beckoned forward
by the executioners came and by force tied his arms with
strong rope to the cross-beams of the instrument of death,
while the great sharp nails were driven remorselessly through
the centre of his palms, " Take ye Barabbas and crucify
him !" he yelled, " He murdered Gabrias, he stole the jewels
of Shadeen, he it is who stirreth up sedition in the city,
bring out another cross for Barabbas ! let Barabbas die" -
Blood sprang to his mouth, choking his utterance, his face
grew dusky purple with agony and suffocation. The soldiers
laughed.
"Thou cowardly dog!" said one of them "Die like a
man, if there be any manhood in a Jew. A Roman would
scorn to make such outcry. As for Barabbas, he is set free
by law and pardoned."
Hanan heard, and his eyes rolled horribly with a delirious
glare.
" Pardoned pardoned !" he muttered thickly " May all
the curses of deepest hell be on thee and thy wanton" -
But his sentence was left unfinished, for at that moment his
cross was raised and set upright in the socket prepared for it
in the ground, and the blistering sun blazed down upon his
bare head and naked body like an opened furnace-fire. He
twisted and writhed in vain, in his indescribable torture he
would have torn his hands from the nails which pierced them,
had they not been too tightly bound for such an effort. Most
awful it was to look upon him hanging thus, with the anguished
blood blackening in his veins and swelling his straining muscles,
and Barabbas turned away his eyes, sick and shuddering.
Do they all suffer like that?" he asked of Melchior falter-
All who are made of clay and clay only, suffer thus"
responded Melchior, eyeing the tormented criminal with an air
of scientific coldness, " He has had his chance in this world
and lost it. None but himself can be blamed for his present
condition."
"Wilt thou apply such moralising to the Nazarene?" de-
manded Barabbas half indignantly.
88 BARABBAS
Melchior lifted his eyes for an instant to the sky as though
he saw some wonder there.
"Ay! Even to the Nazarene !" he said softly "He also
hath had His Way, and chosen His condition, and unto Him
be the glory hereafter ! Time is His slave, and Destiny His
footstool, and His Cross the safety of Humanity !"
" Nay, if such be thy thought of Him" murmured Ba-
rabbas, shaken to his very soul by a trembling awe he could
not explain, " were it not well to speak with Him ere He dies ?
to crave a blessing"
" His blessing is not for me, but all" interrupted Melchior
with solemnity " And I have spoken with Him, long ago,
when His life on earth was young. But now, 'tis not a time
for words, 'tis a time for vigilance and prayer ; watch thou
therefore with me, and hold thy peace, this is but the be-
ginning of wonders."
Just then the executioners finished nailing the second thief
to his cross. This man made no resistance and scarce an out-
cry. Once only, as his feet were pierced by the huge nail that
was roughly hammered through them, he gave vent to an
irresistible faint shriek of pain, but afterwards, with an
almost superhuman effort he controlled himself, and only
moaned a little now and then. His eyes turned constantly
towards the " Nazarene" and he seemed to derive ease and
satisfaction from merely looking in that direction. There was
much renewed excitement and stir among the thronging people
as they saw the second cross about to be set up, for they judged
that but little time would now elapse before the crowning act
of the appalling drama, the crucifixion of Him whom they
accused of blasphemy because " Pie made Himself the Son of
God." And in the restless surging to and fro of the mob,
Barabbas suddenly spied standing somewhat apart, a knot of
women whose costly raiment, adorned with jewels, bespoke
them of higher wealth and rank than ordinary, and among
them one dazzlingly fair face shone forth like a star amid
flame, for the hair which clustered above it was of a red-gold
lustre, and the mantle flung about it had the glowing tint of
fire. One devouring eager look, and Barabbas, forgetting all
fear, warning, or prophecy, fled like a madman towards that
flashing danger-signal of a beauty that seemed to burn the
very air encompassing it, and with wild eyes, out-stretched
hands and breathless utterance he cried,
"JUDITH!"
4 DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 89
CHAPTER XIV.
SHE whom he thus called upon turned towards him as he
came with a haughty air of offence and inquiry, and the
marvellous loveliness of her as she fully confronted him checked
his impetuous haste and held him, as it had often done before,
tongue-tied, bewildered and unmanned. Nothing more beauti-
ful in the shape of woman could be imagined than she, her
fairness was of that rare and subtle type which in all ages has
overwhelmed reason, blinded judgment and played havoc with
the passions of men. Well did she know her own surpassing
charm, and thoroughly did she estimate the value of her
fatal power to lure and rouse and torture all whom she made
the victims of her almost resistless attraction. She was Judith
Iscariot, only daughter of one of the strictest and most re-
spected members of the Pharisaical sect in Jerusalem, and
by birth and breeding she should have been the most sancti-
monious and reserved of maidens, but in her case, nature had
outstepped education. Nature, in a picturesque mood, had
done wondrous things for her, things that in the ordinary
opinion of humankind, generally outweigh virtue and the
cleanness of the soul in the sight of Heaven. To Nature
therefore the blame was due for having cast the red glow of a
stormy sunset into the bronze- gold of her hair, for having
melted the blackness of night and the fire of stars together
and set this mingled darkness and dazzle floating liquidly in
her eyes, for having bruised the crimson heart of the pome-
granate-buds and made her lips the colour of the perfect
flower, and for having taken the delicate cream and pink of
early almond blossoms and fixed this soft flushing of the
Spring's life-blood in the coloring of her radiant face. Small
cause for wonder was there in the fact that her beauty con-
quered all who came within its radius ; even her rigid father
himself grew lax, weak and without authority as far as she
was concerned, and blinded by the excess of his parental pride
in her perfections, had gradually become the merest tool in her
haiids. How then could Barabbas, the criminal Barabbas,
feel himself other than the most abject of slaves in such a
dazzling presence! A beaten hound, a chidden child were
8*
90 BARABBAS
firmer of resolution than he when the chill yet lustrous glance
he loved fell on him like a star-beam flashing from a frosty
sky and set his strong nerves trembling.
" Judith !" he exclaimed again, and then stopped, discour-
aged ; for her large eyes, cold as the inner silence of the sea,
surveyed him freezingly as though he were some insolently
obtrusive stranger.
" Judith !" he faltered appealingly " Surely thou dost
know me, me, Barabbas !"
A sudden light of comprehension swept away the proud
annoyance of her look, her red lips parted a little, showing
the even small white teeth within, then a glimmer of amuse-
ment illumined her features, wakening dimples at the curves
of her mouth and lifting the delicately pencilled corners of
her eyebrows, then she broke into a soft peal of careless,
vibrating laughter.
"Thou, Barabbas?" she said, and laughed once more,
" Thou ? Nay, 'tis not possible ! Barabbas was of late in
prison, and of a truth he could not steal from thence such
purple raiment and solemnly sedate expression as thou wear-
est! Thou can'st not be Barabbas, for scarce two hours
agone I saw him standing before Pilate, unclad, and foul as
wolves and leopards are ! yet verily he seemed a nobler man
than thou !"
Again she gave vent to her silvery mocking mirth, and her
eyes flung him a glittering challenge of disdain and scorn.
He, however, had recovered partial control of his emotions,
and met her taunting gaze stedfastly and with something of
sadness, his dark face had grown very pale, and all the
warmth and rapture had died out of his voice when he spoke
again.
" I am Barabbas" he repeated quietly " And thou,
Judith, dost know it. Have I not suffered for thy sake ?
and wilt thou still mock at me?"
She glanced him up and down with an air of mingled de-
rision and pity.
" I do not mock at thee, fool ! thou dreamest ! How
darest thou say thou hast suffered for my sake ! I will have
thee scourged for thy presumption ! What has the daughter
of Iscariot to do with thee, thou malefactor? Thou dost
forget thy crimes too easily !"
"Judith!" he muttered, his pale features growing paler,
and his hands clenching themselves in an involuntary move-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 91
ment of desperate despair, "Bethink thee of thy words!
Remember the old days, . . . have pity"
She cut short his hesitating speech by an offended gesture
and turning to the women who stood near, exclaimed deri-
sively,
" Lo, maidens, 'tis Barabbas ! Remember ye him who
was ever wont to pass by the well in our palm-tree nook in
his goings and comings to and from the house of Shadeen ?
how he would linger with us till sunset, wasting his time in
idle words and rumours of the town, when of a truth he should
have been better employed in useful errandry. Tis the same
knave who knotted for me the silken hammock on the fig-tree
boughs in my father's garden, and for Aglaie, yonder sim-
pering Greek girl of mine, he once pulled down a flower that
blossomed too high for her to reach. 'Twas all the service
he ever did for us, methinks ! yet he hath become of a most
excellent pride in prison ! the unexpected freedom given
him by the people's vote hath puffed him out with singular
vanities ! Would ye have known him, maidens, clad thus in
purple, and of so decorous a demeanour? As I live, he
would have adorned a cross most fittingly! 'twere pity he
were not nailed beside the Nazarene !"
The women to whom she spoke laughed carelessly to please
her, but one or two of them seemed sorry for Barabbas, and
glanced at him kindly and with a certain pity. He meanwhile
showed no anger or impatience at the scoffing words of his
beautiful tormentor, but simply looked her straight in the eyes,
questioningly and sorrowfully. A deeper flush coloured her
fair cheeks, she was evidently troubled by the stedfastness
of his gaze, and, noting this momentary embarrassment of
hers, he seized his opportunity and made a resolute step to-
wards her, catching her hand in his own.
" Is this thy welcome, Judith ?" he said in a passionate
whisper " Hast thou no thought of what my long long misery
has been apart from thee ? Deny it as thou wilt, I sinned for
thy sake and suffered for thy sake ! and 'twas this thought
and this alone that made my suffering less hard to bear. Mock
me, reject me, thou can'st not hinder me from loving thee!
Slay me, if it give thee pleasure, with the jewelled dagger
hanging at thy girdle, I shall die happy at thy feet, loving
thee to the last, thou cruel virgin of my soul !"
His voice in its very whisper thrilled with the strange music
that love can give to the roughest tones, his black eyes burned
92 BAR ABB AS
with ardour, and his lips trembled in their eloquent appeal.
She heard, and a slow smile smoothed away the disdain in
her face ; he had grasped her left hand in his and she did not
withdraw it. But with her right she felt for the dagger he
rke of, it was the merest toy weapon set in a jewelled
ath, yet sharp and strong enough to kill. Moved by
capricious impulse she suddenly drew forth the blade and
pointed it at his breast. He did not flinch, nor did he for
a second remove his eyes from the adoriug contemplation of
her perfect loveliness. For a moment she remained thus,
the weapon uplifted, the radiant smile playing round her
mouth like a sunbeam playing round a flower, then, laughing
outright and joyously, she thrust back the dagger in its sheath.
" For this time I will let thee live," she said with an im-
perial air of condescension " The feast of death to-day hath
suflicient material in the traitorous Nazarene and yonder rascal
thieves. Only I pray thee loosen my wrist from thy rough
grasp, else I must hate thee. Lo, thou hast bruised me, fool !
so rude a touch deserves no pardon !"
Her delicate dark brows contracted petulantly. Barabbas
gazed remorsefully at the red dents his fingers had made on the
velvet softness of her hand, adorned with a few great jewels
glistening star-like, but he said no word, his heart was beat-
ing too painfully and quickly for speech. She, meanwhile,
examined minutely the offending marks, then suddenly raising
her eyes with an indescribable witchery of glance and smile she
said,
" Gabrias would have kissed it !"
Had the ground opened beneath his feet, had a lightning-
bolt sped from heaven, Barabbas could not have been more
amazed and appalled. Gabrias ! The sleek, sanctimonious
and false-tongued Pharisee whom he slew and for whose mur-
der he had been cast into prison ! She, Judith, spoke of
him thus, and now ! With his brain in a whirl and a violent
fury beginning to stir in his blood, he stared at her, his face
livid, his eyes blazing.
" Gabrias !" he muttered thickly " What sayest thou ?
Gabrias"
But ere he could finish his incoherent sentence there came a
sudden ugly forward rush of the mob, who growing impatient
of restriction, sought to break the line of the soldiery in order
to see more clearly the preparations for the death of the " Naza-
rene" which were now about to commence. There ensued a
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 93
great noise and calling to order and a motley scene of confusion,
during which a company of imposingly attired personages ad-
vanced to the spot where Judith and her women stood and
took up their position there. Among them was the high-priest
Caiaphas, whose severely intellectual countenance darkened with
wrath as he caught sight of Barabbas.
" What doest thou here, dog ?" he demanded, approaching
and addressing him in a fierce whisper " Did I not warn thee ?
Get thee hence ! The law's release hath not made thee clean
of sin, thou shalt not mingle with the reputable and godly
in the land. Get thee hence, I say, or I will make thee accursed
in all men's sight, yea, even as a leper is accursed !"
His tall form quivered, and he raised his arm with a gesture
of stern menace. Barabbas, pale to the lips, half breathless
and giddy with the sickening sensations of doubt and horror
which Judith had so unexpectedly raised in his soul, met his
cold eyes unflinchingly.
" Thou insolent priest !" he said " Threaten thy curses to
those who fear them, but I, Barabbas, defy thee! Where-
fore should'st thou, liar and hypocrite, sun thyself in the smile
of the maiden Iscariot, and I, her friend in olden days, be by
thy mandate debarred her company ? Verily there is a light
beginning to dawn on my foolish and long-darkened brain,
verily I do perceive wherein my trust has been betrayed ! I
read thy thoughts, thou evil-minded and bloodthirsty Caiaphas !
As in a vision vouchsafed in the silence of the night I see the
measure of thy plotting ! Look to thyself ! for 'tis not Judas
but thou who hast brought to this death the innocent Nazarene,
thou and thy tyrannous craft ! Look to thyself, for as God
liveth there is a vengeance waiting for thee and thine !"
He spoke at random, hardly conscious of what he said, but
carried away by a force and fervour not his own, which made
him tremble. Caiaphas retreated, staring at him in dumb rage
and amazement, Judith listening, laughed.
" He hath turned prophet also !" she exclaimed mirthfully
" Let him be crucified !"
Her malicious and cruel suggestion fell on unheeding ears,
for just then there was another rush and outcry from the mob,
and another futile struggle with the soldiers. Barabbas was
compelled to fight with the rest of the reckless crowd for a
footing, and, in the midst of the crush, a strong hand sud-
denly caught and plucked him as it were out of chaos. Mel-
hior confronted him, there was a solemn tender look in bia
94 BARABBAS
eyes, the ordinary cold composure of his features was softened
by deep emotion.
" Thou poor rash sinner !" he said, but with great gentleness
" Thou hast had the first blow on thy credulous man's heart,
the first blight on thy erring man's passions ! Stay thou
now with me, and ache in silence ; let the world and its ways
sink out of thy sight and memory for a space, and if thy
soul doth crave for Love, come hither and behold it in all its
great supernal glory, slain to appease the ravening hate o f
man !"
His voice, usually so calm, shook as though tears were
threatening to overcome it and Barabbas, troubled, oppressed,
and smarting with his own sense of wrong, yielded to his touch
passively, moved by his words to a certain awe and self-sur-
render. Lifting his anguished eyes he looked fixedly at his
companion,
" Tell me the truth now if thou knowest it," he said in
hoarse accents that were almost inaudible " She is false ?
yet no ! Do not speak ! I could not bear it ! Let me die
rather than lose my faith !"
Melchior made no reply, but simply attended to the difficult
business of pushing and pulling him through the crowd, till
they managed at last to find an open spot almost immediately
opposite the crosses of the two thieves who by this time were
gasping aloud in the agonies of heat and suffocation, their
strained limbs visibly quivering. The men of death were all
gathered closely round the tall white figure of the " Nazarene,"
they were stripping Him of His garments. Meanwhile,
Petronius the centurion stood by, watching the process and
leaning meditatively on his drawn sword.
" Pilate is crazed !" said an officer, approaching him with a
huge parchment scroll " Lo what he hath inscribed to be
nailed above the cross of the prophet from Galilee I"
Petronius took the scroll and spreading it out, read it slowly
and with labour for he had little scholarship. Three times
over were the same words written, in Greek, in Latin, and in
Hebrew
" JESUS OF NAZARETH,
KINO OP THE JEWS."
" Where see ye any madness in our governor ?" demanded
Petronius, " There is naught of such import in the super-
scription."
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 95
" Nay, but there is,' persisted the man who had brought
it " And so it was pointed out, for Caiaphas spake unto Pilate
thus ' Write not, King of the Jews, but that he said, I am
King of the Jews !' And Pilate, being but newly recovered
from his well-nigh deadly swoon, was wroth with Caiaphas,
and answered him in haste, saying ' What I have written, 1
have written /' And of a truth they parted ill friends."
Petronius said no more, but glanced at the inscription
again, and then, advancing, gave it to one of the executioners.
This man, grimy and savage-featured, surveyed it with an ad-
miring leer, and flattening it out, began to nail it at once to the
top of the great Cross which still lay on the ground where
Simon of Cyrene had left it, waiting for its Divine occupant.
With a few deft blows he soon fixed it firmly in position, and
satisfied with its prominent ppearance, he read it with the
tardy pains of a child learning its first alphabet. Tracing
out each letter with his blood-stained finger, he gradually un-
solved for himself the mystic words that have since resounded
through the whole civilised world, and muttered them beneath
his breath with a mingling of dull wonder and scorn,
"JESUS OF NAZARETH,
KING OP THE JEWS."
CHAPTER XV.
THE scene had now assumed a wonderful and terrible pic-
turesqueness. The populace, finding that sudden rushes were
of no avail to break the firm line of the Roman soldiery, re-
mained wedged together in a sullen heated mass, watching the
proceedings in morose silence. There were a few detached
groups standing apart from the actual multitude, evidently by
permission of the authorities, one being composed of the
poorly-clad women whom Barabbas had seen and spoken to on
the way up the hill, and even at the distance he was he could
see the golden gleam of the Magdalen's hair, though her face
was buried in her hands. And, for the distraction of his
peace, he could also see the supple form of Judith Iscariot,
wrapped in her flame-coloured mantle, and looking like a tall
poppy-flower blossoming in the sun, the stately Caiaphas stood
96 BARABBAS
beside her, with other men of note and position in the city of
Jerusalem, one or two of the stranger Roman nobles had de-
scended from their horses, and were eagerly bending towards
her in courtly salutation. Barabbas gazed at her and grew
sick at heart, a horrible disillusion and disappointment crushed
his spirit and filled him with a silent rage of pain, an intoler-
able agony of despair. All at once the ground rocked beneath
his feet like a wave of the sea, he staggered and would have
fallen had not his friend Melchior held him up.
" What is it?" he muttered, but Melchior replied not. He
was looking at the soldiers, who had also felt the sudden bil-
lowy movement of the earth on which they stood, but who,
trained to a wooden impassiveness, only glanced at one another
inquiringly for a second and then resumed their stiff attitude
and immobility of expression. The ground steadied itself as
swiftly as it had trembled, and the populace, in their intense
excitement, had evidently failed to note its momentary undu-
lation.
Presently a loud roar of ferocious delight went up from the
mob, the executioners had stripped the Condemned of His
garments, and, pleased with the texture and softness of their
material, were now casting lots for their possession. They dis-
puted loudly and angrily, the chief contention raging over the
question as to who should have the upper robe or mantle
which was made of pure white wool, woven smoothly through-
out from top to hem without seam. Throwing it from hand
to hand they examined the fleecy fabric with covetous eager-
ness, making clamorous and conflicting assertions as to its actual
monetary value, much as the relatives of a dead man squabble
over the division of his poor earthly property. And in the
meantime while they argued hotly together and lost patience
one with the other, the immortal " Nazarene" stood ungar-
mented, awaiting their cruel pleasure. His grand Figure shone
white as polished alabaster in the brilliant sun, an inward
luminance gleamed like fire through the azure branches of His
veins and the spotless purity of His flesh ; His arms had been
unbound, and with an air of mingled relief and weariness He
stretched them forth as one conscious of pleasant freedom, and
the shadow of their whiteness fell on the dull brown earth like
a reflection of the Cross on which He was so soon to perish.
And when he allowed them to drop again, gently and languidly
at His sides, that shadow seemed yet to stay upon the ground
and deepen and darken. No clouds were in the sky ; the sun
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 97
was at full dazzle and splendour, nevertheless that mysterious
stain widened and spread slowly, as though some sudden moist-
ure beneath the soil were gradually rising to an overflow. Ba-
rabbas noticed it, he saw too that Melchior observed the
same phenomenon, but neither of them spoke. For the in-
terest and horror of the Divine drama were now culminating
to their supremest point ; the casting of lots for the garments
of the Condemned was over, and each man was apparently
satisfied with his share of the spoil. The chief executioner,
not without a touch of pity in his rough face, approached the
" Nazarene," and instead of using force as he had been com-
pelled to do in the case of the crucified malefactors, bade Him,
in a low tone, take His place upon the Cross without offering
useless resistance to the law. The terrible mandate was obeyed
instantly and unhesitatingly. With perfect calmness and the
serene ease of one who, being tired, is glad to rest, the Ruler
of the Worlds laid Himself down within the waiting arms of
Death. As peacefully as a weary traveller might stretch him-
self upon a couch of softest luxury, so did the Conqueror of
Time stretch out His glorious limbs upon the knotty wooden
beams of torture, with sublime readiness and unconquerable
patience. Had He spoken at that thrilling moment He might
have said " Even so, children of My Father, lay your-
selves down upon the rack of the world's misprisal and con-
tempt ! If ye would win a force divine, stretch out your limb*
in readiness to be pierced by the nails that shall be driven into
them by friends and foes ! Wear ye the crown of thorns till
the blood starts from your aching brows, be stripped bare to
the malicious gaze of sensuality and sin ! Let them think
that they have tortured you, slain you, buried you, hidden
you out of sight and out of mind ! Then arise, ye children
of My Father, arise on the wings of the morning, full-filled
with power ! power living, everlasting, and triumphant ! for
ye shall see the world at your feet and all heaven opened above
you ; the circling universe shall ring with the music of your
names and the story of your faithfulness, and sphere upon
sphere of Angels shall rejoice with you in glory ! For behold,
from this day henceforth, I and those whom I call Mine, shall
alter Death to Life and Life to Immortality."
But no words such as these were uttered : the Divine lips
were fast closed and mute as heaven itself. But from the
watching crowd there went up a faint murmur of irrepressible
admiration for the tranquil heroism with which the young
B 9 9
98 BARABBAS
" Prophet of Galilee" accepted His fate, as well as for the
singularly sculptural beauty and resignation of His attitude.
The executioners approached Him with a certain aw* and
timorousness.
" One would think him made of marble," muttered one,
pausing, hammer in hand.
" Marble doth not bleed, thou fool 1" said his fellow harshly,
yet with an angry consciousness that he too felt a tremor of
fear and repugnance at the work about to be done.
The other men were silent.
The select and richly-attired company of those influential
or wealthy persons who were standing immediately round the
high-priest Caiaphas, now advanced a little, and Judith Is-
cariot, radiant as a sun-flash embodied in woman's shape, leaned
forward eagerly with the pleased smile of a child who is prom-
ised some rare and mirthful gala show. Her brilliant dark
eyes rolled indifferently and coldly over the outstretched Form
upon the Cross, her jewelled vest rose and fell lightly with
the gradual excited quickening of her breath. She looked,
but she did not speak, she seemed to gloat silently upon the
prospect of the blood-shedding and torture soon to ensue.
And from the opposite side to that on which she stood, there
suddenly emerged another woman, young and fair as she,
though worn with weeping, a woman whose wild white face
was like that of some beautiful sad angel in torment. Throw-
ing up her hands in a dumb frenzy of protest and appeal, she
ran unsteadily forward a few steps, then stopped and fell on
her knees, covering her anguished features in the loosened
shower of her golden hair with a low shuddering cry. None
out of the assembled throng went to offer her comfort or assist-
ance, people peered curiously at her over each other's shoul-
ders, exchanging a few side-looks of derision and contempt,
but not a soul approached her save one, one of her own sex,
who was closely veiled, and who, advancing with a light yet
queenly tread, knelt down beside her, and passing one arm
around her, laid her forlorn fair head against her breast and so
quietly remained. Judith Iscariot, lifting her ringed hand to
her eyes to shade them from the sun's glare, gazed at that
kneeling group of two with haughty disgust and scorn.
" Lo, the sinners with whom this madman of Galilee con-
sorted!" she exclaimed to Caiaphas "Yonder yellow-haired
vileness is the Magdalen, she should be stoned from hence 1"
" Yea verily she should be stoned from any place where thou
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 99
dost pass, fair Judith !" said Caiaphas deferentially, yet with
the shadow of a sneer on his thin pale lips " Evil company
should be far distant from thee, and for this cause did I just
lately chase the insolent Barabbas from thy presence. But con-
cerning this woman Magdalen, yonder matron who doth thus
embrace her, cannot immediately be spoken with or banished
from this place, for 'tis the Mother of the Galilean. She hath
come hither to behold him die. Were we to visit her with
harshness, or deny and deprive her of her privilege to watch
this death and make fitting lament thereon, she and the women
she elects as friends, the populace would raise an outcry
against us, and most justly. For law must ever go hand in
hand with mercy. Have patience then, good Judith, till the
end, though of a truth I crave to know why thou hast ven-
tured hither if thou art offended at the sight of sinners ? In
such a multitude as this thou can'st not hope to find all vir-
tuous!"
Something sarcastic in the tone of his voice called up a sud-
den red flush on Judith's cheeks, but her eyes grew cold and
hard as a midnight frost.
" I, like the mother of the Nazarene, have come to see him
die !" she said with a cruel smile, " She will watch his torture
with tears doubtless, but I, with laughter ! His agony will
be my joy ! For I hate him, I hate him ! He hath cast
dissension in our house, he hath turned my brother's heart
from mine, aud made of him a slave to his fanatic doctrine.
For look you, what happier man was there than Judas, be-
loved of my father, and dear to me beyond all earthly count-
ings, till in an evil hour he was ensnared from home by idle
rumours of the power of this boastful prophet of Galilee ?
What needed we of any new religion, we who served the God
of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob, and who had followed the
teachings of the law from our youth up till now ? Is it not a
shame to speak it, a shame to think it, that Judas, well-born
and comely of countenance, my father's only son and heir, hath
actually wandered in vagabondage across the land with this
carpenter's son of Nazareth, dwelling among common fisher-
folk, visiting the unclean and leprous poor, eating the husks of
want instead of the bread of plenty, deserting his home, for-
saking me, his sister, and disobeying his father's command, all
for the sake of this impostor who hath at last been found guilty
of blasphemy and condemned to his long-deserved death.
Judge how I hate the traitor ! Ay, with a hate surpassing any
100 BARABBAS
love ! I rose betimes this morning to be the witness of his
trial, when the mob were inclined to pity, I whispered words
that roused them anew to wrath, 'twas I who gave the key-
note ' Crucify him !' did'st thou not mark how readily the
chorus answered ?"
Caiaphas looked down a trifle uneasily, then up again.
" Yea, I did mark it," he said softly " And that I heard
and knew thy voice is no matter for surprise, seeing that it was
a strain of music amid much discord. And freely do I sym-
pathise with thy sorrow concerning Judas, thy brother was
ever thy dear and favourite companion, and this Galilean mir-
acle-monger hath brought him naught save ruin. He hath fled
the city they say. Knowest thou whither ?"
A vague anxiety shadowed the beautiful face he watched so
narrowly.
" Nay, not I," she answered, and her accents trembled
" Last night he came to me, 'twas after he had led the guards
to the garden of Gethsemane where they captured the Naza-
rene, and like a madman, he called down curses upon himself
and me. He was distraught, I knew him not, he raged and
swore. I strove to calm him, he thrust me from him, I
called him by every endearing name, but he was as one deaf to
affection or to reason ; I bade him think of our dead mother,
how she loved him, he shrieked at me as though I had
plunged a dagger in his heart. Our father besought him with
tears to remember all the claims of family and duty, but still
he raved and beat his breast, crying aloud ' I have sinned ! I
have sinned ! The weight of heaven and earth crushes my soul
. the innocent blood is red upon my hands ! I have sinned !
I have sinned !' Then with a sudden violence he flung us from
him, and rushed furiously from our dwelling out into the night.
I followed him fast, hoping to stay him ere he could have left
our garden, but his was a crazed speed, I found him not.
The moon was shining and the air was still, but he had gone,
and since then I have not seen him."
Two tears quivered on her silky lashes and fell among the
jewels at her breast. A gathering trouble darkened the high-
priest's countenance.
u 'Tis strange," he muttered " 'Tis very strange ! He hath
fulfilled a duty to the laws of his people, and now, when all is
done, he should rejoice and not lament. Nevertheless, be sure
his humour is but temporarily distracted, though I recognise
the actual cause thou hast for sisterly misgiving. Yet take
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 101
thou comfort in believing all is well, and let thy thirst of
vengeance now be satisfied, for see, they do begin to nail the
malefactor down."
He spoke thus, partly to divert Judith's thoughts from
anxiety on her brother's account, and partly because just then
he saw Petronius the centurion give the fatal signal. Petro-
nius had in truth purposely delayed this act till the last possible
moment, and now, when he was finally compelled to lift his
gauntleted hand in sign that the terrible work of torture should
commence, he caught, for the further inward distress and re-
morse of his mind, a sudden look from the patient, upturned,
Divine eyes. Such eyes ! shining like twin stars beneath the
grand supernal brows round which the rose-thorns pressed their
piercing circlet, eyes alit with some supreme inscrutable
secret spell that had the power to shake the spirit of the strong-
est man. Petronius could not bear those eyes, their lustrous
purity and courage were too much for his composure, and
trembling from head to foot with an almost womanish nervous-
ness he turned abruptly away. The murmuring noise of the
vast expectant multitude died off gradually like the retreating
surge of a distant sea, a profound silence reigned, and the
hot movelessness of the air grew more and more weightily in-
tensified. The executioners having received their commands,
and overcoming their momentary hesitation, gathered in a rough
half-nude group around the Cross whereon lay unresistingly the
Wonder of the Ages, and knelt to their hideous task, their
muscular brown arms, grimy with dust and stained already
with splashes of blood from the crucifying of the two thieves,
contrasting strangely with the dazzling whiteness of the Figure
before them. They paused a moment, holding the huge long-
pointed nails aloft, . . . would this Man of Nazareth struggle ?
would it be needful to rope His limbs to the wooden beams
as they had done to the other two condemned? With the
fierce scrutiny of those accustomed to signs of rebellion in the
tortured, they studied their passive Captive, . . . not a quiver
stirred the firmly composed limbs, ... not a shade of anxiety
or emotion troubled the fair face, . . . while the eyes, rolled
up to the blinding splendour of the sky, were gravely thought-
ful and full of peace. No bonds were needed here; the
Galilean was of marvellously heroic mould, and every hard-
ened torturer around Him, silently in his heart of hearts recog-
nised and respected the fact. Without further parley they
commenced their work, . . . and the startled earth, affrighted,
9*
102 BARABBAS
groaned aloud in cavernous echoes as the cruel hammers heavily
rose and fell, clanging out the tocsin of a God's death and a
world's redemption. And at the self-same moment, up to the
far star-girdled Throne of the Eternal, sped the tender low-
breathed supplication of the dying Well- Beloved,
" Father t forgive them, for they know not what they do !"
CHAPTER XVI.
A DREADFUL hush of horror reigned. The stirless heat of
the atmosphere felt as heavy to the senses as an overhanging
solid mass of burning iron. The forces of Nature seemed
paralysed, as though some sudden shock had been dealt at the
core of life, or as though the rolling world had paused, palpi-
tating for breath in its pacing round the sun. Not a sound
broke the oppressive stillness save the dull reverberation of the
hammers at their deadly business, for the vast human multi-
tude stood dumb, sullenly watching the working of their will,
yet moved by a vague remorse and an equally vague terror.
Not one among them would have dared to suggest at this late
hour any mercy for the Victim ; they, the people, had desired
this thing, and their desire was being accomplished. All being
carried out as they wished, they could not well complain, nor
could they recall their own decision. But there was something
unnatural and ghastly in the scene, a chill sense of nameless
desolation began to creep upon the air, and while each man
and woman present strained both body and sight to see the fine
fair limbs of the " Galilean" pierced through and fastened to
the torture-tree, they were all conscious of fear ; fear of what
or of whom, none could have truly told, nevertheless fear dom-
inated and daunted the spirits of every one. And it was this
unconfessed inexplicable alarm that kept them silent, so that
not even a whispered " Alas I" escaped from any pitying voice
when the beauteously arched, delicate feet of the Divine Suf-
ferer were roughly seized, crossed over and held in position by
one executioner, while another placed the nail in the nerve-
centres of the tender flesh. A third callous ruffian dealt the
measured blows which drove in the thick, sharp iron prong
with a Blow force calculated to double and treble the exquisite
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 103
agony of lingering martyrdom, and Bwiftly the hurt veins
rebelled against their wrong in bursting jets of innocent blood.
The crimson stain welled up and made a piteous rose on the torn
skin's whiteness, but He who was thus wounded, stirred not at
all, nor uttered a cry. His human flesh mutely complained of
human injustice in those reproachful red life-drops ; but the
indomitable Spirit that dwelt within that flesh made light of
merely mortal torment, and was already seizing Death in the
grasp of victory. And the feet that had borne their Owner
into dreary, forsaken ways where the poor and the outcast
dwell in sorrow, that had lightly paused among the " lilies of
the field" while such sweet words were spoken as made these
simple flowers talismans of grace for ever, that had moved
softly and tenderly through the fields of corn and gardens of
olive, and villages and towns alike, carrying consolation to the
sad, hope to the lost, strength to the weak, now throbbed
and ached and bled in anguish for man's ingratitude, man's
forgetfulness, man's abhorrence of the truth and suicidal doubt
of God. How easy it is to hate ! . . . how difficult to love,
as Love demands ! . . . Many assembled there on Calvary that
never-to-be-forgotten day, had listened to the fearless and holy
teaching of Him whose torment they now coldly watched, when
in the fields, on the hills or by the reverent sea, He had taught
them the startling new lesson that " God is a Spirit ; and
they that worship Him must worship Him in Spirit and in
Truth" No savage " Jehovah- Jireh," craving for murder and
thirsting for vengeance was the supreme Creator, but a Father,
a loving Father, of whom this youthful Prophet with the
heaven-lit eyes had said " Fear not, little flock ! it is your
Father's good pleasure to give you the Kingdom /" He,
this Man upon the Cross, had on one memorable morning,
gathered about Hun a crowd of the fallen and sick and poor
and disconsolate, and with a tender smile as radiant as the
summer sunshine, had said " Come unto Me, all ye that are
weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest !" . . . And
they had come, those heart-broken and agonised of the earth,
they had knelt and wept at His feet, they had kissed His
garments and the ground on which He trod, they had placed
their little children in His arms, and had told Him all their sor-
rows. And He had laid His hands upon them in blessing, those
fair white hands of mystic power and healing which dispensed
naught but good, but which now, palms outward, were fastened
to the death-rack, ... a symbolic token of the world's reward
104 BARABBAS
to all its noblest souls ! . . . The blood oozed slowly and re
luctantly from those hands, but, as was usual in the dolours of
crucifixion, gathered itself painfully in the outstretched arms,
swelling the veins and knotting the muscles, though as yet
the terrible ordeal had not reached its height, for the Cross had
still to be lifted. For that tremendous uplifting the whole
universe waited, for that, the very heavens were at pause and
the angels stricken dumb !
The executioners having finished the first part of their task,
now beckoned the centurion to step forward and see for him-
self that the nails in the Victim's body were secure, so that he
might be able to certify to the authorities that the law had been
adequately fulfilled. With a sickening heart, Petronius obeyed
the signal. But his sight was dazzled, his brain reeled,
there was a choking dryness in his throat, and he could not
speak a word. Yet this time the Man of Sorrows never looked
at him, the Divine orbs of light and genius were turned to
heaven alone, as though absorbing the fiery glory of the sun.
And, was it fancy, or some delusion of his own sense of
vision that suddenly gave him the impression of an approach-
ing darkness in the sky ? as if indeed the sun were losing
lustre? He rubbed his eyes and gazed dubiously about,
surely a mysterious shadow as of outspread wings rested on the
landscape ! Were the people, were the soldiers conscious of
this ? Apparently not. Their attention was concentrated on
the work of death, and there was a general eager forward
movement of the crowd to see the Cross set up. As Petro-
nius, dazed and bewildered, stepped back, the executioners, six
in all, men of sinewy and powerful build, bent themselves
energetically to the completion of their work, ... in vain!
Their united forces could not raise the world's Eternal Sym-
bol one inch from the ground. They struggled and dragged at
it, the sweat pouring from their brows, but its priceless freight
of Godhead, Majesty and Love resisted all their efforts.
" I said he was a Hercules," growled the chief man, wring-
ing the perspiration from his rough beard, " The Cross itself
is of uncommon size, and he upon it hath the mould of heroes.
What, Simon ! Simon of Gyrene ! Art thou there ?"
The crowd moved and murmured and made way, and
Simon, thus apostrophised, came slowly to the front.
"What need ye more of me?" he demanded sullenly,
"Think ye I will aid in murder?"
" Thou Libyan ass I" retorted the executioner " Who talks
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 1JJ5
of murder ? This is the law's work, not ours. Lend us thy
brawny arms a minute's space, thou art made in a giant's
shape, and should'st have a giant's |force withal. An' thou
wilt not" he added in a lower tone " we must use greater
roughness."
Simon hesitated, then, as if inwardly compelled, advanced
submissively to the foot of the Cross. His eyes were cast
down, and he bit his lips to hide their nervous trembling.
" Lift ye all together the upper beams" he said softly to
the executioners, hushing his voice like one who speaks in
rapture or in reverence " I will support the end."
They stared amazedly, he was voluntarily choosing the
greater weight which would inevitably be his to bear directly
the Cross was raised. But they offered no opposition.
Stronger than any lion he was known to be, let him test his
strength now, for here was his opportunity ! So they thought
as they went in the direction he indicated, three men to the
right and three to the left. The excitement of the people was
now intense, so passionately absorbed indeed had it become
that none seemed to be aware of a singular circumstance that
with each moment grew more pronounced and evident, this
was the solemn spreading of a semi-darkness which, like
advancing twilight, began gradually to blot out all the brilliant
blue of the afternoon skies. It came on stealthily and almost
imperceptibly, but the crowd saw nothing as yet, . . . noth-
ing but the huge bronzed figure of Simon stooping to lift the
Crucified. Tenderly, and with a strange air of humiliation,
the rough-featured black-browed Cyrenian laid hands upon the
Cross once more, the Cross he had so lightly borne to Calvary,
and grasping it firmly, drew it up, up by slow and sure de-
grees, till the pierced and bleeding feet of the Christ came close
against his straining breast, . . . inch by inch, with panting
breath and an ardent force that was more like love than cruelty,
he lifted it higher and higher from the ground, the executioners
holding and guiding the transverse beams upward till these were
beyond their reach, and Simon alone, with wildly beating
heart and muscles stretched nigh to breaking, supported for one
lightning instant the world's Redeemer in his arms ! He
staggered and groaned, the blood rushed to his face and the
veins in his forehead swelled, . . . but he held his ground for
that one terrible moment, . . . then, ... a dozen men rushed
excitedly to his assistance, and with their aid, the great Cross,
with the greatest Love transfixed upon it, was thrust into the
106 BARABBAS
deep socket dug for its reception on the summit of the hill. It
fell in with a thudding reverberation as though its end had
struck the very centre of the earth, and trembling to and fro
for a few seconds like a tree shaken by a storm-wind, was soon
perfectly still, fixed steadily upright between the two already
crucified thieves, who though dying fast, were not yet dead.
Salvation's Symbol stood declared ! and Simon of Gyrene,
having done all he was needed to do, retreated slowly with
faltering steps and swimming brain, conscious only of one
thing, that the blood of the Victim had stained his breast,
and that the stain seemed to burn his flesh like fire. He folded
his garment over it to hide it, as though it were a magic talis-
man which must for safety's sake be well concealed ; it gave
him pain as much as if he had himself been wounded, . . .
and yet ... it was a pang that thrilled and warmed his soul !
He saw nothing, the earth appeared to eddy round him like
a wave, but he stumbled on blindly, heedless of whither he
went and forcing his way through the crowd that gaped at him
in wonderment, the while he muttered from time to time under
his breath the words of the inscription above the head of the
Divine Martyr,
" JESUS OP NAZARETH, KING OP THE JEWS !"
And now, the Cross being openly set up, and the slow
devourings of death having commenced upon the sinless Sacri-
fice, a long wild shout of savage exultation arose from the
multitude, a shout that rang in harsh hoarse echoes over the
hill, through the low-lying gardens beyond, and away as it
seemed to the summit of Mount Moriah, where over Solomon's
glistening Temple, a cloud as of dust or smoke, hung like a
warning of storm and fire. And the barbaric human clamour
as it mutteringly died- away was suddenly taken up and all
unexpectedly answered by a grander uproar, a deep, threaten-
ing boom of far-off thunder. In circling tones and semi-tones
of wrath it volleyed through the skies, and, startled by the
sound, the people, roused for the first time from their morbid
engrossment in the work of cruel torture and blood-shedding,
looked up and saw that the heavens were growing dark and
that the sun was nearly covered by an inky black cloud, from
which its rim peered feebly like a glimmering half-moon.
Against the background of that obscured sun and sable cloud
the Cross stood clear, the outstretched Figure on it, looking, in
that livid murkiness, whiter than a shape of snow, and the
multitude silenced anew by some strange terror, watched and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY J07
listened, chained in their thousands to the one spot by mingled
fear and fascination. Afraid to move they knew not why, and
waiting for they knew not what, they gazed all with one accord
at the huge Cross and its emblazoned Glory suspended between
them and the pallidly vanishing sun, and murmured to one
another vaguely between-whiles of storm and rain, there
would be a heavy shower they said, good for the land and
cooling to the air. But they spoke at random, their thoughts
were not with their words, and their minds were ill at ease.
For the omnipresent spirit of fear, like a chill wind, breathed
upon their nerves, lifting the very hair of their flesh and caus-
ing their limbs to tremble. And ever the skies darkened, and
ever, with scarce a moment's pause, the gathering thunders
rolled.
CHAPTER XVII.
DEEPER and deeper drooped the dull grey gloom, like a
curtain falling slowly and impenetrably over all things. The
strange stillness of the multitude, . . . the heavy breathless-
ness of the air, . . . and the appalling effect of the three
crosses with the tortured figures on them, standing out against
the lurid storm-light, were sufficient to inspire a sense of awe
and dread in the mind of the most hardened and callous be-
holder. The booming thunder swinging to and fro in the
clouds resembled the sepulchral sound of an iron-tongued
funeral bell, half muffled, half clamant, . . . and presently
the landscape took upon itself a spectral look, as of being a
dream scene unsubstantially formed of flitting vapour. The
circling line of the Roman soldiery appeared to lessen to the
merest thread of gleaming steel, the serried ranks of the
populace merged into a confused, apparently intangible blur,
and in the singular flitting and wavering of light and shade, it
happened that at last only the one central Cross became pre-
eminently visible. Outlined with impressive distinctness, it
suddenly seemed to assume gigantic proportions, stretching
interminably as it were to east and west, up to heaven and
down to earth, while behind the head of the Divine Crucified,
a golden pearl of the veiled sun shone like the suggestion of a
new world bursting into being. One instant this weird glamour
108 BARABBAS
lasted, . . . and then a blue blaze of lightning cut up the sky
into shreds and bars, followed instantaneously by a terrific clap
of thunder. Men grew pale, . . . women screamed, . . .
even the soldiers lost their wonted composure and looked at
each other in doubting and superstitious dread. For they had
their gods, these rough untutored men, they believed in the
angers of Jupiter, and if the fierce god's chariot-wheels were
rattling through the far empyrean thus furiously, surely his
wrath would soon exceed all bounds 1 And could it be because
the " Nazarene" was crucified ? Their darkening countenances
full of apprehension, expressed their thoughts, and the high-
priest Caiaphas, quick to detect the least hint of a change in
the popular sentiment, became uneasy. This storm, com-
mencing at the very moment of the crucifixion, might so im-
press and terrify the ignorant rabble, that they might imagine
the death of the Galilean Prophet was being visited on them by
the powers of heaven, and possibly might insist on having Him
taken down from the Cross after all. He imparted his politic
fears to Judith Iscariot in a whisper, she too had grown pale
at the loud threat of the gathering storm, and was not without
a nervous sense of alarm, but she was prouder than most of
her sex, and scorned to outwardly show any misgiving what-
ever she inwardly felt. And while Caiaphas yet murmured
discreetly in her ear, a sudden glow as of fire was flung upon
Calvary, the sable mask of cloud slid from the sun, and
wide rays of light tinged with a singular redness like that of
an out-breaking volcano, blazed forth brilliantly over the hill.
Cheered by the splendour, the people threw off, in part, their
vague terrors, their faces brightened, and Caiaphas profiting
by his opportunity, stepped out in full view of the crowd, and
advanced majestically towards the Cross from which the " King
of the Jews" looked down upon him. Lifting his hand to
shade his eyes from the crimson glare which haloed with a
burning ring the outstretched patient Figure, he exclaimed in
clear loud accents " Thou that destroy est the temple and
buildest it in three days, save thyself and come down from
tlie cross !"
The multitude heard, and roared applause and laughter.
Even the grim soldiers smiled for, thought they, if the Man
of Galilee were a true miracle-worker, He could never have a
better opportunity for displaying His powers than now. Caia-
phas smiled proudly, he had struck the right note, and had
distracted the attention of the mob from their personal alarms
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 109
of the storm, to renewed interest in the cruelty that was being
enacted. Still standing before the Cross, he studied with
placid pitilessness every outline of the perfect Human Shape
in which Divine Glory was concealed, and watched with the
scientific interest of a merciless torturer the gradual welling up
and slow dropping of blood from the wounded hands and feet,
the pained, patient struggling of the quickened breath,
the pale parted lips, the wearily-drooping, half-closed eyes.
Annas, sleek and sly, with an air of hypocritical forbearance
and compassion, approached also, and looked up at the same
piteous spectacle. Then, rubbing his hands gently together,
he said softly, yet distinctly,
"He saved others, himself he cannot save ! If he be the
King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross and we
will believe him .'"
The dying thief Hanan, now in the last stage of his agony,
caught these words, and twisting himself fiercely forward
muttered groans and hideous curses. His neck swelled, his
tongue protruded, and the frightful effort he made to speak
distorted his whole repulsive countenance, while his body
agitated by muscular twitchings, violently shook the cross on
which he was roped and nailed.
" Thou blasphemer !" he gasped at last, rolling his fierce
eyes round and fixing them on the fair thorn-crowned Head
that with every moment drooped lower and lower, " Well it
is that thou should'st die, ... yet willingly would I have
seen Barabbas nailed where thou art ! Nevertheless thou art
a false and evil prophet, if thou be the Christ, save thyself
and us /"
The other crucified malefactor, close upon his end, and pant-
ing out his life in broken breaths of anguish, suddenly writhed
himself upward against his cross, and forced himself to lift
his heavy head.
" Hanan !" he muttered hoarsely, " Dost thou not fear God ?
. . . Seeing thou art in the same condemnation ?" He broke
off, struggling against the suffocation in his throat, then con-
tinued to murmur incoherently, " And we indeed justly, . . .
for we receive the due reward of our deeds, . . . but this Man
hath done nothing amiss"
Again he stopped. All at once a great wonder, rapture and
expectation flashed into his livid face and lightened his glazing
eyes. He uttered a loud cry, turning himself with all his
strength towards the silent Christ.
10
HO B ARABS AS
" Lord . . . Lord" ... he stammered feebly. " Remem-
ber me . . . when . . . thou earnest . . . into . . . thy King-
dom!"
Slowly, with aching difficulty, but with unconquerably
tender patience, the Divine head was gently raised, the lus-
trous suffering eyes bent their everlasting love upon him, and
a low voice, hushed and sad, yet ever musical, responded,
" Verily I say unto thee, This day shalt thou be with Me
in Paradise !"
And as the wondrous promise reached his ears, the tortured
and repenting sinner smiled, the anguish passed away from
his features leaving them smooth and calm, and with one
faint groan his head fell heavily forward on his chest, . . .
his limbs ceased trembling, ... he was dead. Hanan still
lingered in the throes of reluctant dissolution, his awful
struggle having become a mere savage revolt of material nature
from which the strongest turned away their eyes, shuddering.
Another reverberating crash of thunder bellowed through
the sky ; this time the earth rocked in answer, and the people
were seized anew with dread. Caiaphas, self-possessed and full
of dignity, still held his ground, ready to face and quell any
fresh superstitious alarms, inviting by his very attitude as it
were, all the world to bear witness to the justice of the law's
condemnation. Pointing upward to the Cross, he cried
aloud,
" He trusted in God ! Let Him deliver him now if He
will have him ; for he said, I am the Son of God /' '
But the multitude were not so ready to respond as before,
they were troubled by forebodings and fears which they could
not explain, and their eyes were not so much fixed on the
crucified "Nazarene" as on the sun behind Him, the sun
which now looked like a strange new planet coloured a blackish
red. They were also noting the conduct of a small brown bird,
which had settled on the Cross, and was now desperately pluck-
ing with its tiny beak at the crown of thorns that circled the
bleeding brows of the " King." A soldier threw a stone at
it, it flew away, but swiftly returned to resume its singular,
self-appointed task. Again and again it was driven off, and
again and again it came back fearlessly, fluttering round the
shining head of the Christ, and striving, as it seemed, to tear off
the thorny coronal. Its feeble but heroic efforts were rewarded
by one upward glance from the loving eyes of the Beloved,
and then the innocent feathered creature, mournfully chirping,
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY HI
flew away for the last time, its downy breast torn and stained
with blood, but otherwise uninjured.
This trifling incident gave a singular emotion of pleasure to
the crowd. They found something touching and dramatic in
it, and the bird's wound of love elicited far more sympathy
than the speechless and supernal sorrows of the Man Divine.
Compassion and interest for birds and animals and creeping
things of the wood and field often distinguish the otherwise
selfish and cold-hearted ; and many a man has been known to
love a dog when in human relationships he would willingly
slander his friend or slay his brother.
Again a shaft of lightning flashed through the heavens,
followed by a lion-like hungry roar of thunder, and many of
the people began to move to and fro troublously, and turn their
eyes from the hill city-wards in alarm and anxiety. All at
once in the full red glare of the volcanic sun Judith Iscariot
ran forward excitedly, her flame-coloured mantle falling away
from her tawny gold tresses, her lips parted in a smile, her
glowing exquisite face upturned, and the jewels on her attire
gleaming with lurid sparks like the changing hues of a serpent's
throat. Lifting up her round white arm, ablaze with gems
from wrist to shoulder, she pointed derisively at the dying
Christ and laughed, then making an arch of her two hands
above her mouth so that her voice might carry to its farthest,
she cried aloud to Him mockingly,
" If thou be the Son of God, come down from the Cross!"
The words rang out with vibrating distinctness, clear as a
bell, and Barabbas, though he was at some distance off, heard
them, and saw that it was Judith who spoke. Moved to an
unspeakable horror and dismay, he rushed towards her, scarcely
knowing what he did, but full of the idea that he must stop
her cruel, unwomanly gibing, must drag her away, by sheer
force if necessary, from the position she had taken up below
the Cross. Her beautiful figure standing there looked strange
and devilish, her red mantle caught blood-like gleams from
the red sun, above her the tortured limbs of the God-Man
shone marble white and almost luminous, while His dreamful
face, drooped downward, now had upon it a stern shadow like
the solemn unspoken pronouncement of an eternal reproach and
doom. And the radiant mirthful malice of the woman's eyes
flashed up at that austerely sublime countenance in light scorn
and ridicule, as with shriller yet still silver-sounding utterance,
he cried again,
112 B ARABS AS
" Hearest thou me, thou boaster and blasphemer ? If thou
be the Son of God, come down from the Cross!' 1
As the wicked taunt left her lips for the second time, a
twisted and broken flash of lightning descended from heaven
like the flaming portion of a destroyed planet, and striking
straight across the scarlet ball of the sun, seemed literally to set
the Cross on fire. Blazing from end to end of its tranverse
beams in a flare of blue and amber, it poured lurid reflections on
all sides, illumining with dreadful distinctness the pallid shape
of the Man of Sorrows for one ghastly instant, and then van-
ished, chased into retreat by such a deafening clatter and clash
of thunder as seemed to split a thousand rolling worlds in
heaven. At the same moment the earth heaved up, and
appeared to stagger like a ship in a wild sea, .... and with
a sudden downward swoop as of some colossal eagle, dense
darkness fell, impenetrable, sooty darkness that in one breath
of time blotted out the face of nature and made of the sum-
mer-flowering land a blind black chaos.
CHAPTER XVIII.
SHRIEKS and groans, confusion and clamour, wild shouts
for help, wilder cries for light, and the bewildering, mad-
dening knowledge that numbers of reckless terrified human
beings were rushing hither and thither, unseeingly and dis-
tractedly, these were the first results of that abrupt descent
of black night in bright day. " Light ! Give us light,
God !" wailed a woman's voice piercing through the dismal
dark ; and the frantic appeal, " Light ! light !" was re-echoed
a thousand times by the miserable, desperate, wholly panic-
stricken crowd. To and fro wandered straggling swarms of
men and women, touching each other, grasping each other, but
unable to discern the faintest outline of each other's forms or
features. Some sought to grope their way down the hill, back
to the city, some wrestled furiously with opposing groups of
persons in their path, others, more timorous, stayed where
they were, weeping, shrieking, striking their breasts and re-
peating monotonously, " Light, light ! God of our fathers,
give us light !"
A DREAM OF THE WORLDS TRABEDT 113
Bufc no answer to their supplications came from the sable
pall that solemnly loomed above them, for now not even the
lightning threw a chance spear across the clouds, though with
incessant, unappeased ferocity, the thunder roared, or rolling to
a distance muttered and snarled. A soldier of more self-pos-
session and sense than his fellows managed after a little while
to strike a light from flint and steel, and as soon as the red
spark shone a hundred hands held out to him twigs and branches
that they might be set on fire and so create a blazing luminance
within the heavy gloom. But scarcely had a branch or two
been kindled, when such a shriek went up from those on the
edge of the crowd as froze the blood to hear.
" The faces of the dead !" they cried" The dead are there,
there in the darkness ! Shut them out ! Shut them out I
They are all dead men I"
This mad outcry was followed by the screams of women,
mingled with hysterical bursts of laughter and weeping, many
persons flinging themselves face forward on the ground in veri-
table agonies of terror, and the soldier who had struck the
light dropped his implements, paralysed and aghast. The
kindled branches fell and sputtered out, and again the un-
natural midnight reigned, supreme, impermeable. There was
no order left ; the soldiery were scattered ; the mob were sepa-
rated into lost and wandering sections ; and " Light ! light !"
was the universal moan. Truly, in that sepulchral blackness,
they were " the lost sheep of the house of Israel," ignorantly
and foolishly clamouring for " light !" when the one and only
Light of the World was passing through the " Valley of the
Shadow," and all Nature in the great name of God, was bound
to go with Him ! The atmosphere lost colour, the clouds
thundered, earth trembled, the voices of birds and animals
were mute, the trees had ceased to whisper their leafy loves
and confidences, the streams stopped in their silver-sounding
flow, the sun covered its burning face, the winds paused on
their swift wings, and only Man asserted, with puny groans
and tears, his personal cowardice and cruelty in the presence of
the Eternal. But at this awful moment the powers of heaven
were deaf to his complaining, and his craven cries for help were
vain. Our shuddering planet, stricken with vast awe and
wonder to its very centre, felt with its suffering Kedeemer the
pangs of dissolution, and voluntarily veiled itself in the deep
shadow of death, a shadow that was soon to be lifted and
gloriously transformed into light and life immortal \
h 10*
114 BAR ABB AS
The heavy moments throbbed away, moments that seemed
long as hours, and no little gleaming rift broke the settled
and deepening blackness over Calvary. Many of the people,
giving way to despair, cast themselves down in the dust and
wept like querulous children, others huddled themselves to-
gether in seated groups, stunned by fright into silence, a few
howled and swore continuously, and all the conflicting noises
merging together, suggested the wailing of lost beings in spirit-
ual torment. All at once the strong voice of the high-priest
Caiaphas, hoarse with fear, struck through the gloom.
" People of Jerusalem !" he cried " Kneel and pray ! Fall
down before the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, and
entreat Him that this visitation of storm and earthquake be
removed from us ! Jehovah hath never deserted His children,
nor will He desert them now, though it hath pleased Him to
afflict us with the thunders of His wrath ! Be not afraid, O
ye chosen people of the Lord, but call upon Him with heart
and voice to deliver us from this darkness! For we have
brought His indignation upon ourselves, inasmuch as we have
suffered the false prophet of Galilee to take His Holy Name
in vain, and He doth show us by His lightnings the fiery letter
of His just displeasure. And whereas these shadows that en-
compass us are filled perchance with evil spirits who come to
claim the soul of the boastful and blasphemous Nazarene, I say
unto ye all, cover yourselves and pray to the God of your
fathers, sons and daughters of Jerusalem, that He may no
longer be offended, that He may hear your supplications in
the time of trouble, and bring you out of danger into peace !"
His exhortation, though pronounced in tremulous tones, was
heard distinctly, and had the desired effect. With one accord
the multitude fell on their knees, and in the thickening shadows
that enveloped them began to pray as they were told, some
silently, some aloud. Strange it was to hear the divers con-
trasting petitions that now went muttering up to the invisible
Unknown ; Latin tongues against Hebrew and Greek, ap-
peals to Jupiter, Mercury, Diana, and Apollo, mingling with
the melancholy chant and murmur of the Jews.
" Our God, God of our fathers, let our prayer come before
Thee ! Hide not Thyself from our supplication 1 We have
sinned, we have turned aside from Thy judgments, And it
hath profited us naught ! Remember us, God, and be merci-
ful ! Consume us not with Thy just displeasure ! Be merci-
ful and mindful of us for blessing 1 Save us unto life I By
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 115
Thy promise of salvation and mercy, Spare us and be gracious
unto us, God !"
And while they stammered out the broken phrases, half in
hope, half in fear, the thunder, gathering itself together like
an army of war-horses and chariots, for sole reply crashed down
upon them in the pitchy darkness with a fulminating ferocity
so relentless and awful that the voices of all the people, Jews
and aliens alike, died away in one long quavering, helpless
human wail. Their prayers sank to affrighted whispers, and
the thunder still pelting in angry thuds through the dense air,
was as the voice of God pronouncing vast and unimaginable
things.
Meanwhile, as already described, Barabbas had rushed to-
wards Judith Iscariot just as the darkness fell, and when the
blinding vapours enveloped him he still kept on his course,
striking out both arms as he ran that they might come first in
contact with the woman he loved. He had calculated his
distance well, for presently, his outstretched hands, groping
needfully up and down in the sombre murk, touched a head
that came to about the level of his knee, then folds of silk,
then the outline of a figure that was huddled up on the
ground quite motionless.
" Judith ! Judith !" he whispered " Speak ! Is it thou ?''
No answer came. He stooped and felt the crouching form ;
here and there he touched jewels, and then he remembered
she had worn a dagger at her girdle. Cautiously passing his
arms about, he found the toy weapon hanging from the waist
of this invisible woman-shape, and realised, with a thrill of
comfort, that he was right, it was Judith he touched, but
she had evidently fainted from terror. He caught her, clasped
her, lifted her up, and supported her against his breast, his
heart beating with mingled despair and joy. Chafing her cold
hands, he looked desperately into the dense obscurity, wonder-
ing whether he could move from the spot without stumbling
against one at least of tho>se three terrible crosses which he
knew must be very near. For Judith had stood directly be-
neath that on which the wondrous " Nazarene" was even now
slowly dying, and she would scarcely have had time to move
more than a few steps away when the black eclipse had drowned
all things from sight. He, Barabbas, might at this moment be
within an arm's length of that strange " King" whose crown
was of thorns, an awful and awe-inspiring idea that filled him
with horror. For, to be near that mysterious Man of Nazareth,
116 BARABBAS
to know that he might almost touch His pierced and bleed,
ing feet, to feel perchance, in the horrid gloom, the sublime
and mystic sorrow of His eyes, to hear the parting struggle
of His breath, this would be too difficult, too harrowing, too
overwhelming for the endurance or fortitude of one who knew
himself to be the guilty sinner that should have suffered in the
place of the Innocent and Holy. Seeking thus to account to
his own mind for the tempestuous emotions which beset him,
Barabbas moved cautiously backward, not forward, bearing in
his recollection the exact spot in which he had seen Judith
standing ere the black mist? fell ; and, clasping her firmly, he
retreated inch by inch, till he thought he was far enough re-
moved from that superhuman Symbol which made its unseen
Presence all-dominant even in the darkness. Then he stopped,
touching with gentle fingers the soft scented hair that lay
against his breast, while he tried to realise his position. How
many a time he would have given his life to have held Judith
thus familiarly close to his heart ! but now, now there was
something dreary, weird and terrible, in what, under other
circumstances, would have been unspeakable rapture. Im-
possible, in this black chaos, to see the features or the form of
her whom he embraced ; only by touch he knew her ; and a
faint chill ran through him as he supported the yielding supple
shape of her in his arms, her silken robe, her perfumed hair,
the cold contact of the gems about her, these trifles repelled
him strangely, and a sense of something sinful oppressed his
soul. Sin and he were old friends, they had rioted together
through many a tangle of headstrong passion, why should he
recoil at Sin's suggestions now ? He could not tell, but so it
was ; and his brain swam with a nameless giddy horror, even
while he ventured, trembling, to kiss the unseen lips of the
creature he had but lately entirely loved, and now partly
loathed.
And, as he kissed her she stirred, her body quivered in
his hold, consciousness returned, and in a moment or two she
lifted herself upright. Sighing heavily, she murmured like
one in a dream
"Is it thou, Caiaphas?"
A fierce pang contracted the heart of the unhappy man who
loved her, he staggered, and almost let her fall from his em-
brace. Then, controlling his voice with an effort, he answered
Nay, it Is I, Barabbas."
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 117
" Thou !" and she flung one arm about his neck and held
him thus entwined " Thou were ever brave and manful !
save me, my love, save me ! Take me out of this darkness,
there must be light in the city, and thou art fearless and
skilful enough to find a way down this accursed hill."
" I cannot, Judith !" he answered, his whole frame trem-
bling at the touch of her soft caressing arm, " The world is
plunged in an impenetrable night, storm and upheaval threaten
the land, the city itself is blotted out from view. The peo-
ple are at prayer ; none dare move without danger, there is
no help for it but to wait, here where we are, till the light
cometh."
" What, thou art coward after all !" exclaimed Judith,
shaking herself free from his clasp " Thou fool ! In the
city lamps can be lit and fires kindled, and we be spared some
measure of this gloom. If thou wert brave, and more than
all, if thou did'st love me, thou would'st arouse thy will, thy
strength, thy courage, thou would'st lead me safely through
this darkness as only love can lead, but thou art like all men,
selfish and afraid !"
" Afraid ! Judith !" His chest heaved, his limbs quiv-
ered. " Thou dost wrong me ! full well thou knowest thou
dost wrong me !"
" Prove it then !" said Judith eagerly, flinging herself
against him and putting both arms round his neck confidingly
" Lo, I trust thee more than any man ! Lead me from
hence, we will move slowly and with care, thou shalt hold
me near thy heart, the path is straight adown the hill, the
crosses of the criminals are at the summit, as thou knowest,
and if we trace the homeward track from hence surely it will
be easy to feel the way."
" What of the multitude ?" said Barabbas " Thou know-
est not, Judith, how wildly they are scattered, how in their
straying numbers they do obstruct the ground at every turn,
and it is as though one walked at the bottom of the sea ac
midnight, without the shine of moon or stars."
" Nevertheless, if thou lovest me, thou wilt lead me,"
repeated Judith imperatively. "But thou dost not love
me !"
" I do not love thee ! I !" Barabbas paused, then caught
the twining arms from about his neck and held them hard.
" So well do I love thee, Judith, that, if thou playest me false,
I can hate thee 1 ; Tis thou that art of dubious mind in love.
118 BARABBAS
I have loved only thce; but thou, perchance, eince I was
chained in prison, hast loved others. Is it not so ? Speak !"
For all answer she clung about his neck again and began to
weep complainingly.
" Ah, cruel Barabbas !" she wailed to him between her sobs,
" Thou standest here in this darkness, prating of love while
death doth threaten us. Lead me away I tell thee, take me
homeward, and thou shalt have thy reward. Thou wilt not
move from this accursed place which hath been darkened and
confused by the evil spells of the Nazarene, thou wilt let me
perish here, because thou dost prize thine own life more than
mine !"
" Judith ! Judith !" cried Barabbas in agony " Thou dost
break my heart, thou dost torture my soul ! Beware how
thou speakest of the dying Prophet of Galilee, for thou
did'st taunt Him in His pain, and this darkness fell upon us
when thy cruel words were spoken. Come, if thou must
come ; but remember there is neither sight nor sense nor order
in the scattered multitude through which we must tight our
passage, 'twere safer to remain here, together, and pray."
" I will not pray to God so long as He doth wantonly afflict
us !" cried Judith loudly and imperiously " Let Him strike
slaves with fear, I am not one to be so commanded ! An'
thou wilt not help me I will help myself; I will stay no longer
here to be slain by the tempest, when with courage I might
reach a place of safety."
She moved a step away, Barabbas caught her mantle.
' ; Be it as thou wilt !" he said, driven to desperation by her
words, " Only let me hold thee thus," and he placed one arm
firmly round her, " Now measure each pace heedfully, walk
warily lest thou stumble over some swooning human creature,
and with thy hands feel the air as thou goest, for there are
many dangers."
As he thus yielded to her persuasions, she nestled against
him caressingly, and lifted her face to his. In the gloom thoir
lips met, and Barabbas, thrilled through every pulse of his
being by that voluntary kiss of love, forgot his doubts, his sus-
picions, his sorrows, his supernatural forebodings and fears,
and moved on with her through the darkness as a lost and
doomed lover might move with his soul's ruiu. through the
black depths of hell.
DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 119
CHAPTER XIX.
SLOWLY and cautiously they groped their way along and
for two or three yards met with no obstacle. Judith was tri-
umphant, and with every advancing step she took, began to
feel more and more secure.
" Did I not tell thee how it would be ?" she said exultingly,
as she clung close to Barabbas, "Danger flies from the
brave-hearted, and ere we know it we shall find ourselves at
the foot of the hill."
" And then ?" murmured Barabbas dubiously.
" Then, doubt not but that we shall discover light and
guidance. And I will take thee to my father's house, and tell
him thou hast aided in my rescue, and he will remember that
thou hast been freed from prison by the people's vote, and he
will overlook thy past, and receive thee with honour. Will
that not satisfy thee and make thee proud ?"
He shuddered and sighed heavily.
" Alas, Judith, honour and I are for ever parted, and I shall
never be proud of aught in this world again ! There is a
sorrow on my heart too heavy for me to lift, perchance 'tis
my love for thee, perchance 'tis the weight of mine own folly
and wickedness ; but be the burden what it may, I am stricken
by a grief that will not vent itself in words. For 'tis I,
Judith, I who should have died to-day, instead of the holy
' Nazarene' 1"
She gave an exclamation of contempt and laughed.
" Callest thou him holy ?" she cried derisively " Then thou
art mad ! or thou hast a devil 1 A malefactor, a deceiver, a
trickster, a blasphemer, and holy !"
Another liht laugh rippled from her lips, but was quickly
muffled, for Barabbas laid his hands upon her mouth.
" Hush, hush !" he muttered, " Be pitiful ! Some one
is weeping, . . . out there in the gloom ! Hush !"
She struggled with him angrily, and twisted herself out of
his hold.
" What do I care who weeps or laughs ?" she exclaimed,
" Why dost thou pause ? Art stricken motionless ?"
But Barabbas replied not. He was listening to a melaa-
120 BARABBAS
choly sobbing sound that trembled through tbe darkness, the
sorrowing clamour of a woman's breaking beart, and a strange
anguish oppressed him.
"Come!" cried Judith.
He roused himself with an effort.
" I can go no further with tbee, Judith," he said sadly,
"Something, I know not what, drags me back. I am
giddy, faint, I cannot move I"
"Coward!" she exclaimed "Farewell then! I go on
without thee."
She sprang forward but he caught her robe and detained
her.
" Nay, have patience, wait but a moment" he implored
in tones that were hoarse and unsteady " I will force my
steps on with thee, even if I die. I have sinned for thy sake
in the past it matters little if I sin again. But from my
soul I do beseech thee that thou say no more evil of the
' Nazarene' I"
"What art thou, that thou should'st so command me?"
she demanded contemptuously, " And what has the ' Naza-
rene' to do with thee, save that he was sentenced to death
instead of thou ? Thou weak slave ! Thou, who did'st steal
pearls only because I said I loved such trinkets ! oh, worthy
Barabbas, to perjure thyself for a woman's whim ! thou, who
did'st slay Gabrias because he loved me !"
" Judith 1" A sudden access of fury heated his blood,
and seizing her in both arms roughly he held her as in a vice.
" This is no time for folly, and whether this darkness be of
heaven or hell, thou darest not swear falsely with death so
close about us ! Take heed of me ! for if thou liest I will
slay thee! Callest thou me weak? Nay, I am strong,
strong to love and strong to hate, and as evil in mind and
passion as any man ! I will know the truth of thee, Judith,
before I move, or let thee move another inch from hence !
Gabrias loved thee, thou sayest, come, confess, did'st thou
in thy turn love Gabrias ?"
She writhed herself to and fro in his grasp rebelliously.
"I love no man !" she cried in defiance and anger. "AD
men love me ! Am I not the fairest woman in Judaea ? and
thou speakest to me of one lover one ! And thou would'st
be that one thyself? fool ! What aileth thee? Lo, thou
hast me here in thine arms, thou can'st take thy fill of kisses
an' thou wilt, I care naught so long as thou dost not linger
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 121
on this midnight way. I offer thee my lips, I am thy sole
companion for a little space, be grateful and content that
thou hast so much. Gabrias loved me I tell thee, with
passion, yet guardedly, but now there are many greater than
he who love me, and who have not his skill to hide their
thought"
"Such as the high-priest Caiaphas!" interrupted Barabbas
in choked fierce accents.
i She gave a little low laugh of triumph and malice com-
mingled.
" Come !" she said, disdaining to refute his suggestion,
" Come, and trouble not thyself concerning others, when for
this hour at least I am all thine. Rejoice in the advantage
this darkness gives thee, lo, I repel thee not ! only come,
and waste no more precious time in foolish questioning."
He loosened his arms abruptly from about her, and stood
motionless.
" Come I" she cried again.
He gave her no response.
She rushed at him and clutched him by his mantle, putting
up her soft face to his, and showering light kisses on his lips
and throat.
" Barabbas, come !" she clamoured in his ears " Lead me
onward ! thou shalt have love enough for many days !"
He thrust her away from him loathingly.
" Get thee hence !" he cried, " Fairest woman of Judaea,
as thou callest thyself and as thou art, tempt me no more lest
in these hellish vapours I murder thee ! Yea, even as I mur-
dered Gabrias ! Had I thought his boast of thee was true,
he should have lived, and thou should'st have been slain !
Get thee hence, thou ruin of men ! get thee hence, alone !
I will not go with thee ! I tear the love of thee from out my
heart, and if I ever suffer thy fair false face to haunt my
memory, may Heaven curse my soul ! I take shame upon
myself that I did ever love thee, thou evil snare ! deceive
others as thou wilt, thou shalt deceive Barabbas no more !"
Again she laughed, a silvery mocking laugh, and like some
soft lithe snake, twined herself fawningly about him.
" No more ?" she queried in dulcet whispers " Thou wilt
not be deceived, thou poor Barabbas? thou wilt hot be
caressed? thou wilt no longer be my slave? Alas, thou
can'st not help thyself, good fool! I feel thee tremble, I
hear thee sigh ! come, come !" and she pulled him per-
r 11
122 BARABBAS
suasively by the arm, " Come ! and perchance thou shalt
have a victory thou drearnest not of!"
For one dizzy moment he half yielded, and suffered himself
to be dragged forward a few paces like a man in a dull stupor
of fever or delirium, then, the overpowering emotion he had
felt before, came upon him with tenfold force, and again he
stopped.
"No!" he exclaimed " No, I will not! I cannot! No
more, no more ! I will go no further !"
" Die then, fool, in thy folly !" she cried, and bounded away
from him into the gloom. Hardly had she disappeared, when
a monster clap of thunder burst the sky, and a ball of fire fell
to earth, hissing its way through the darkness like a breaking
bomb. At the same instant with subterranean swirl and rumble
the ground yawned asunder in a wide chasm from which arose
serpentine twists of fiery vapour and forked tongues of flame.
Paralysed with horror, Barabbas stared distractedly at this
terrific phenomenon, and as he looked, saw the lately vanished
Judith made suddenly visible in a glory of volcanic splendour.
Her figure, brilliantly lighted up by the fierce red glow, was
on the very edge of the hideous chasm, and appeared to blaze
there like a spirit of fire. Had she gone one step further, she
would have been engulfed within its depths, as it was she had
escaped by a miracle. For one moment Barabbas beheld her
thus, a glittering phantom as she seemed, surrounded by dense
pyramids of smoke and jets of flame, then, with another
underground roar and trembling the ghastly light was quenched
and blackness closed in again, impenetrable blackness in which
nothing could be seen, and nothing heard save the shrieks and
groans of the people.
CHAPTER XX.
THE panic was now universal and uncontrollable. Crowds
of frantic creatures, struggling, screaming, weeping, and fight-
ing invisibly with one another, rushed madly up and down in
the darkness, flinging themselves forward and backward like the
swirling waves of a sea. The murky air resounded with yells
and curses, now and then a peal of hideous laughter rang
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 123
out, and sometimes a piercing scream of pain or terror, while
under all these louder and more desperate noises ran the mo-
notonous murmuring of prayer. The impression and expecta-
tion of renewed disaster burdened the minds of all ; the shud-
dering trouble of the earth had terrified the boldest, and many
were in momentary dread that the whole hill of Calvary would
crumble beneath them and swallow them up in an abyss of fire.
Barabbas stood still where Judith had left him, his limbs
quivering, and a cold sweat breaking out over all his body,
yet he was not so much conscious of fear as of horror, hor-
ror and shame of himself and of the whole world. An inef-
faceable guilt seemed branded on mankind, though how this
conviction was borne in upon him he could not tell. Pres-
ently, determining to move, he began to retrace his steps cau-
tiously backward, wondering, with a sinking heart, whether
Judith had still gone on ? She must have realised her danger ;
she would never have proceeded further, knowing of that fright-
ful rent in the ground, into which, in her wilful recklessness,
she had so nearly plunged. Once he called " Judith !" loudly,
but there was no response.
Stumbling along in doubt and dread, his foot suddenly came
in contact with a figure lying prone, and stooping to trace its
outline, he touched cold steel.
" Take heed, whosoe'er thou art," said a smothered voice,
" and wound not thyself against my sword-edge. I am Petro-
nius."
" Dost thou find safety here, soldier ?" inquired Barabbas
tremulously " Kuowesfc thou where thou art in this dark-
" I have not moved from hence" replied Petronius ; " I
was struck as by a shock from heaven, and I have stayed as I
fell. What would it avail me to wander up and down ? More-
over, such as I am, die at their post if die they must, and
my post is here, close by the Cross of the ' Nazarene.' "
Barabbas shuddered, and his blood grew cold in his veins.
" Is He dead ?" he asked in hushed awed accents.
" Nay, He breathes yet' 1 replied the centurion with equal
emotion " And He suffers!"
Yielding to an overwhelming impulse of passion and pain,
Barabbas groped his way on a few steps, and then, halting,
stretched out his hands.
"Where art thou?" he muttered faintly "0 thou who
diest in my wretchsd stead, where art thou?"
124 BARABBAS
He listened, but caught no sound save that of sobbing.
Keeping his hands extended, he felt the dense air up and
down.
" Who is it that weeps ?" he asked, softening his voice to its
gentlest tone " Speak to ine, I beseech thee ! whether man
or woman, speak ! for behold I am a sinner and sorrowful as
thou 1"
A long, low gasping sigh quivered through the gloom, a
sigh of patient pain ; and Barabbas, knowing instinctively
Who it was that thus expressed His human sense of torture,
was seized by an agony he could not quell.
" Where art thou ?" he implored again in indescribable anx-
iety " I cannot feel thee, I cannot find thee 1 Darkness
covers the world and I am lost within it ! Thy sufferings,
Nazarene, exceed all speech, yet, evil man as I am, I swear my
heart is ready to break with tbine !"
And as he thus spoke involuntarily and incoherently, he
flung himself on his knees, and scalding tears rushed to his
eyes. A trembling hand touched him, a woman's hand.
" Hush !" whispered a broken voice in the gloom " Thou
poor, self-tormented sinner, calm thyself, and pray ! Fear not ;
count not up thy transgressions, for were they more numerous
than the grains of sand in the desert, thy tears and sorrows
here should win thy pardon. Kneel with us, if thou wilt, and
watch ; for the end approaches, the shadows are passing, aud
light is near."
" If this bo so," said Barabbas, gently detaining the small
hand that touched him " Why dost thou still continue to
weep? Who art thou that art so prodigal of tears?"
" Naught but woman," answered the sweet whispering
voice " And as woman I weep, for the great Love's wrong !"
She withdrew her hand from his clasp, and he remained
where he was beside her, quietly kneeling. Conscious of the
nearness of the Cross of the " Nazarene" and of those who
were grouped about it he felt no longer alone, but the weight
of the mysterious sorrow he carried within himself perceptibly
increased. It oppressed his heart and bewildered his brain,
the darkness seemed to encircle him with an almost palpable
density, and he began to consider vaguely that it would be
well for him, if he too, might die on Calvary with that mystic
" King" whose personality had exercised so great a fascination
over him. What had he to live for ? Nothing. He was out-
cast through his own wickedness, and as the memory of his
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 125
sins clouded his mind he grew appalled at the evil in his
own nature. His crimes of theft and murder were the result
of his blind passion for Judith Iscariot, and this blind
passion now seemed to him the worst crime of all. For this
his name and honour were gone, for this he had become
a monster of iniquity in his own sight. Yet, strange to say,
only that very morning, he had not thought himself so vile.
Between the hours of his being brought before Pilate, and now,
when he knelt in this supernatural darkness before the un-
seen dying " Man of Nazareth," an age seemed to have passed,
a cycle of time burdened with histories, histories of the
soul and secret conscience, which are of more weight in God's
countings than the histories of empires. The people had re-
leased him, they had hailed him, the liberated thief and mur-
derer, with acclamations, true ! but what was all this popu-
lar clamour worth when in his own heart he knew himself to
be guilty of the utmost worst that could be done to him ? Oh,
the horrible horrible burden of recognised sin ! the dragging
leaden weight that ties the immortal spirit down to grossness
and materialism when it would fain wing its way to the high-
est attainment ! the crushing consciousness of being driven
back into darkness out of light supernal ! of being thrust
away as it were, with loathing, out of the sight and knowledge
of the Divine ! This was a part of the anguish of Barabbas,
a mental anguish he had never felt till now, and this was
why he almost envied his former comrade Hanan for having
been elected to die in the companionship of the " Nazarene."
All these thoughts of his were purely instinctive ; he could not
reason out his emotions, because they were unlike himself and
new to him. Nevertheless, if he uttered a prayer at all while
kneeling in that solemn gloom, it was for death, not life.
And now, all suddenly through the heavy murk, a muffled
clangour stirred the air, the tolling of great bells and smaller
chimes from the city. Swinging and jangling they made them-
selves heard distinctly for the first time since the darkness fell
over the land, a sign that the atmosphere was growing clearer.
They were ringing out the hour of sunset, though no sun was
visible. And, as they rang, Barabbas felt that some one near
him moved softly among the shadows and stood upright. He
strove to discern the outline of that risen shape, and presently,
to his intense amazement, saw a pale light begin to radiate
through the vapours and gradually weave a faintly luminous
halo round the majestic form of a Woman, whose face, divinely
11*
126 BARABBAS
beautiful, supremely sad, shone forth from the darkness like a
star, and whose clasped hands were stretched towards the great
invisible Cross in an attitude of yearning and prayer. And
the bells rang and the light widened, and in two or three mo-
ments more, a jagged rift of dusky red opened in the black
sky. Broadening slowly, it spread a crimson circle in the
heavens immediately behind the summit of the Cross of the
" Nazarene" first casting ruddy flashes on the inscribed letters
"Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews," and then illumining
with a flame-like glow the grand thorn-crowned head of the
Crucified. Ah, what sublime, unspeakable, mystic agony was
written now upon that face Divine ! Horror of the world's sin
pity for the world's woe, love for the world's poor creatures,
and the passionate God's yearning for the world's pardon and
better hope of heaven, all these great selfless thoughts were
seen in the indescribably beautiful expression of the pallid
features, the upward straining eyes, the quivering, tender
lips, and Barabbas staring at the wondrous sight, felt as though
his very soul and body must melt and be dissolved in tears for
such a kingly Sorrow ! The blood-red cleft in the sky length-
ened, and, presently shooting forth arrowy beams as of fire,
showed a strange and solemn spectacle. For as far as eye could
see in the lurid storm-light, the whole multitude of the people
upon Calvary were discovered kneeling before the Cross of
Christ ! All faces were turned towards the dying Saviour ; in
trouble, in fear and desperation, every human creature there had
fallen unknowingly before their only Rescue whose name was
Love ! and, as the darkness broke up and parted in long wavy
lines, the widening radiance of the heavens revealed what
seemed to be a worshipping world ! . . . But only for an
inetant, for with the gathering, growing light came the rush
of every-day life and movement, the prostrate crowd leaped
up with shouts of joy, glad exclamations of relief and laugh-
ter, danger was over, death no longer seemed imminent,
and as a natural result God was forgotten. The thunder still
growled heavily, but its echoes were rolling off into the far
distance. And while the people grew more and more animated,
scattering themselves in every direction, finding and embracing
their friends and narrating their past fears, Barabbas rose also
from his knees, wondering, awed and afraid. Directly facing
him was the Cross of the " Nazarene," but, beside him was
the Magdalen I With her he had knelt in the deep darkness,
it must have been her hand that had touched him, it must
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 127
have been her voice that had so gently soothed him. He
trembled ; she was a woman of many sins, yet was she, was
she so much worse than, than Judith ? His soul sickened
as this comparison crossed his mind ; yet, loathe it as he
might, it still forced itself upon his attention. Judith Iscariot,
beautiful, imperious, and triumphant in the secrecy of undis-
covered sin, Mary Magdalene, beautiful also, but broken-
hearted, humbled to the dust of contempt, openly shamed,
and penitent. Which of the twain deserved the greater con-
demnation ?
A deep sigh, broke from his lips, a sigh that was almost a
groan; an evil man himself, what right had he to judge of
evil women 1 Just then the Magdalen raised her tear-wet eyes
and looked at him, her luxuriant hair fell about her like a
golden veil, her mouth quivered as though she were about to
speak, but as she met his sternly meditative gaze, she re-
coiled, and hiding her face in the folds of her mantle, dragged
herself nearer to the foot of the Cross and crouched there,
motionless. And the other woman, she for whom, as Barab-
bas imagined, the welcome light had been kindled in the begin-
ning, what of her? She no longer stood erect as when the
bells had rung, she had fallen once more upon her knees,
and her face, too, was hidden.
Suddenly a voice, pulsating with keenest anguish, yet sweet
and resonant, pealed through the air :
" Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani!"
"With one accord the moving populace all came to an abrupt
halt, and every eye was turned towards the central Cross from
whence these thrilling accents rang. Bars of gold were in the
sky, and now, the long-vanished sun, red as a world on fire,
showed itself in round splendour above the summit of Calvary.
".7i, Eli, lama sabacthani!" cried the rich agonised voice
again, and the penetrating appeal, piercing aloft, was caught
up in the breaking clouds and lost in answering thunder.
"He calleth for Elias /" exclaimed a man, one of those in
the front rank of the crowd that was now pressing itself towards
the Cross in morbid curiosity, " Let us see whether JSlias will
come to take him down /"
And he laughed derisively.
Meanwhile Petronius, the centurion, looked up, and saw
that the last great agony of death was on the " Nazarene."
Death in the bloom of life, death, when every strong human
nerve and sinew and drop of blood most potently rebelled at
128 BARABBAS
such premature dissolution, death in a torture more hideous
than imagination can depict or speech describe, this was the
fate that now darkly descended upon divinest Purity, divinest
Love ! Terrible shudderings ran through the firm, heroically
moulded Man's frame, the beautiful eyes were rolled up and
fixed, the lips were parted, and the struggling breath panted
forth in short quick gasps. The fiery gold radiance of the
heavens spread itself out in wider glory, the sun was sinking
rapidly. Moved by an impulse of compassion, Petronius
whispered to a soldier standing by, who, obeying his officer's
suggestion, dipped a sponge in vinegar and, placing it on a tall
reed, lifted it to the lips of the immortal Sufferer, with the
intention of moistening the parched tongue and reviving the
swooning senses. But there was no sign that He was conscious,
and while the soldier still endeavoured to pass the sponge
gently over the bleeding brows to cool and comfort the torn
and aching flesh, the sleek priest Annas stepped forward from
amongst the people and interfered.
" Let be, let be!" said he suavely and with a meek smile,
" Let us see whether Elias will come to save him /"
The crowd murmured approval, the soldier dropped the
reed, and glancing at Petronius, drew back and stood apart.
Petronius frowned heavily, and surveyed the portly priest with
all a martial Roman's anger and disdain; then he raised his
eyes again, sorrowfully and remorsefully, to the tortured figure
of the Crucified. Harder aud faster came the panting breath ;
and, by some inexplicable instinct all the soldiers and as many
of the multitude as could get near, gathered together in solemn
silence, and stared up as though fascinated by some mystic
spell at the last fierce struggle between that pure Body and
divine Spirit. The sun was disappearing, and from its fall-
ing disc, huge beams rose up on every side, driving all the
black and thunderous clouds in the direction of Jerusalem,
where they hung darkening over the city and Solomon's Tem-
ple. Suddenly the difficult breathing of the "Nazarene"
ceased ; a marvellous luminance fell on the upturned face,
the lips that had been parted in gasping agony closed in a
dreamy smile of perfect peace, and a flaming golden glory,
wing-shaped and splendid, woven as it seemed out of all the
varying hues of both storm and sunset, spread itself on either
side of the Cross. Upward, to the topmost visible height of
heaven, these giant cloud-pinions towered plume-wise, and
between them, and behind the dying Christ, the sun, now
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 129
sunk to a half-circle, glittered like an enormous jewelled mon-
strance for the Host in some cathedral of air. In the midst
of this ethereal radiance the pale face of the world's Redeemer
shone forth, rapt and transfigured by mysterious ecstasy, and
His voice, faint, solemn but melodious as music itself, thrilled
softly through the light and silence :
j, " Father I Into thy hands . . . I commend my Spirit /"
As the words were uttered, Petronius and the soldier who had
proffered the vinegar, exchanged a glance, a rapid glance of
mutual suggestion and understanding. With assumed rough-
ness and impatience, the soldier raised his spear and deliberately
thrust it deep into the side of the dying " Nazarene." A
stream of blood gushed out, mingled with water ; and the man
whose merciful desire to put an end to torture had thus im-
pelled him to pierce the delicate flesh, sprang back, vaguely
affrighted at what he had done. For, with the sharp shock
of the blow, the thorned-crowned Head drooped suddenly,
the eyes that had been turned to heaven now looked down,
. . . down, for the last time to earth, . . . and rested upon
the watching crowd with such an unspeakable passion of pity,
love, and yearning, that all the people were silent, stricken
with something like shame as well as awe. Never again in all
the centuries to come would such a Love look down upon
Humanity ! never again would the erring world receive such
a sublime Forgiveness ! such a tender parting Benediction !
The wondrous smile still lingered on the pale lips, a light
more glorious than all the sunshine that ever fell on earth,
illumined the divinely beautiful features. One last, lingering,
compassionate gaze, the clear, searching, consciously supernal
gaze of an immortal God bidding farewell for ever to mortality,
and then, . . . with an exulting: sweetness and solemnity,, the
final words were uttered :
" It is finished /' '
The fair head fell forward heavily on the chest, the tor-
tured limbs quivered once . . . twice . . . and then were
still. Death had apparently claimed its own, and no sign
was given to show that Death itself was mastered. All was
over ; God's message had been given, and God's Messenger
slain. The law was satisfied with its own justice ! A god
could not have died, but He who had been called the " Son,
of God" was dead ! It was " finished ;" the winged glory
in the skies folded itself up and fled away, and like a torch
inverted, the red sun dropped into the night,
t
130 BARABBAS
CHAPTER XXL
A BRIEF pause ensued. The solemn hush that even in a
callous crowd invariably attends the actual presence of death
reigned unbroken for a while, then one man moved, another
spoke, the spell of silence gave way to noise and general ac-
tivity, and the people began to disperse hastily, eager to get
back safely to their homes before the deepening night entirely
closed in. Some compassion was expressed for the women who
were crouched at the foot of the " Nazarene's" Cross, but no
one went near them, or endeavoured to rouse them from their
forlorn attitudes. Barabbas had, unconsciously to himself, re-
coiled from the horror of beholding the Divine death-agony,
and now stood apart, his eyes fixed on the ground and his tired
body quivering in every limb. The populace appeared to have
forgotten him, they drifted past him in shoals, talking, laugh-
ing, and seemingly no longer seriously oppressed by the recol-
lection of the terrifying events of the afternoon. The three
crosses stood out black against the darkening sky ; the execu-
tioners were beginning to take down the body of Hanan in
which a few wretched gasps of life still lingered. Looking
from right to left, Barabbas could see no face familiar to him,
the high-priest Caiaphas and Annas had disappeared, there
was no sign of Judith Iscariot anywhere, and he could not
even perceive the striking and quaintly garbed figure of his
mysterious acquaintance Melchior. The only person he recog-
nised was Petronius the centurion, who was still at his post by
the central Cross, and who by his passive attitude and downcast
eyes appeared to be absorbed in melancholy meditation. Ba-
rabbas approached him, and saw that his rough bearded face
was wet with tears.
"Truly" he muttered beneath his breath as he thrust his
sword of office back into its scabbard " Truly this Man was
the Son of God!"
Barabbas caught the words, and stared at him in questioning
terror.
"Thinkest thou so?" he faltered " Then . . . what shall
be done to those who have slain Him ?"
" I know not," answered Petronius, " I am an ignorant
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 131
fool. But perchance no more ignorant than they who did pre-
fer thy life, Barabbas, to the life of the ' Nazarene.' Nay,
look not so heavily ! thou art not to blame, 'twas not thy
choosing. 'Twas not even the people's choosing 'twas the
priests' will ! A curse on priests, say I ! they have worked
all the evil in the world from the beginning, blaspheming the
names of the Divine to serve their ends. This Crucified Man
was against priestcraft, hence His doom. But I tell thee this
same ' King of the Jews' as they called Him, was diviner than
any of the gods I wot of, and mark me ! we have not seen
or heard the last of Him 1"
He turned away with a kind of fierce impatience and shame
of his own emotion, and resumed his duty, that of superintend-
ing the taking down of the three crucified bodies from their
respective trees of torture. Barabbas sighed, and stood look-
ing on, pained and irresolute. The shadows of night darkened
swiftly, and the figure of the dead Christ above him seemed
strange and spectral, pathetic in its helplessness, yet . . .
after all, a beautiful lifeless body, and . . . nothing more I
A sense of bitter disappointment stole over him. He now
realised that throughout the whole of the terrible tragedy, he
had, unconsciously to himself, believed it impossible for the
wondrous " Man of Nazareth" to die. The impression had
been firmly fixed in his mind, he knew not how, that at the last
moment, some miracle would be enacted in the presence of the
whole multitude ; that either the Cross itself would refuse to
hold its burden, or that some divinely potent messenger from
heaven, whose heralds had been the storm and earthquake,
would suddenly descend in glory and proclaim the suffering
"Prophet" as the true Messiah. Surely if He had been in-
deed the " Son of God" as Petronius said, His power would
have been thus declared ! To Barabbas the present end of
things seemed inadequate. Death was the ordinary fate of
men ; he would have had the kingly " Nazarene" escape the
common lot. And while he pondered the bewildering problem,
half in vexation, half in sorrow, a voice said softly in his ear
" It is finished !"
He started, and turned to behold his friend, the mystic Mel-
chior, whose dark features were ghastly with a great pallor, but
who nevertheless forced a grave and kindly smile as he re-
peated,
"7< is finished ! Did'st thou not also, with all the rest of
the world, receive that marvellous assurance? Henceforth
132 BAR ABB AS
there will bo no true man alive who fears to die ! Come ; we
have no more to do here ; our presence is somewhat of a
sacrilege. Leave the dead Christ to the tears and lamentations
of the women who loved Him. We men have done our part ;
we have murdered Him 1"
He drew Barabbas away despite his expressed reluctance.
" I tell thee," he said " thou shalt see this Wonder of the
Ages again at an hour thou dreamest not of. Meantime, come
with me, and hesitate no more to follow out thy destiny."
"My destiny!" echoed Barabbas "Stranger, thou dost
mock me ! If thou hast any mystic power, read my soul and
measure its misery. I have no destiny save despair."
"Despair is a blank prospect," said his companion tranquilly,
" Nevertheless because a woman is false and thy soul is weak
thou needest not at once make bosom-friends with desperation.
Did'st thou discover thy Judith in the darkness ?"
The sombre eyes of Barabbas flashed with mingled wrath
and anguish as he answered
" Ay, I found her, and, I lost her !"
" Never was loss so fraught with gain I" said Melchior
" I saw her, when the light began to pierce the storm-clouds,
hurrying swiftly down the hill citywards."
" Then she is safe 1" exclaimed Barabbas, unable to conceal
the joy he felt at this news.
" Truly she is, or she should be," responded Melchior ;
" She had most excellent saintly protection. The high-priest
Caiaphas was with her."
Barabbas uttered a fierce oath and clenched his fist. Mel-
chior observed him attentively.
" Methinks thou art still in her toils," he said " Untutored
savage as thou art, thou can'st not master thy ruffian passions.
Nevertheless I will yet have patience with thee."
11 Thou wilt have patience with me!" muttered Barabbas
with irritation, "Thou wilt! Nay, but who art thou, and
what hast thou to do with me, now or at any future time ?"
"What have I to do with thee?" repeated Melchior
" Why nothing ! Only this. That being studiously inclined,
I make thee an object of my study. Thou art an emblem of
thy race in days to come, Barabbas; as I before told thee,
thou art as much the symbol of the Israelites as yonder cruci-
fied ' Nazarene' is the symbol of a new faith and civilisation.
Did I not say to thee a while ago that thou, and not He must
be from henceforth ' King of the Jews' ? "
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 133
"I understand thee not," said Barabbas wearily "Thou
wilt ever speak in parables!"
" 'Tis the custom of the East" answered Melchior com-
posedly, " And I will read thee the parable of thyself at some
more fitting time. At present the night is close upon us, and
there is yet much to be done for the world's wonderment, . . .
stay ! whom have we here '?"
He stopped abruptly, holding Barabbas back by the arm.
They had nearly stumbled over the prostrate form of a man
who was stretched out on the turf face downward, giving no
other sign of life save a convulsive clutching movement of his
hands. Melchior bent over him and tried to raise him, but his
limbs were so rigidly extended that he appeared to be positively
nailed to the ground.
" He is in some fit, or hath the falling-sickness" said
Barabbas, " Or he hath been smitten thus with terror of the
earthquake."
All at once as they still made efforts to lift him, the fallen
man turned up a ghastly face and stared at them as though he
saw some hideous and appalling vision. Tearing up handfuls
of the grass and earth in his restless fingers, he struggled into
a kneeling posture, and still surveyed them with so much wild-
ness and ferocity that they involuntarily drew back, amazed.
" What will ye do to me ?" he muttered hoarsely, " What
death will ye contrive ? Stretch me on a rack of burning iron,
tear my bones one by one from out my flesh, let the
poisoned false blood ooze out drop by drop from my veins,
do all this and ye shall not punish me as I deserve ! There
are no ways of torture left for such an one as I am !" And
with a frightful cry he suddenly leaped erect. " Coward,
coward, coward !" he shrieked, tossing his arms wildly in the
air. (< Coward ! Brand it on the face of heaven ! the only
name left to me coward ! False treacherous coward ! Write
it on stone, post it up in every city, shout it in the streets
tell all the world of me, me, the wretched and accursed
man, the follower of the Christ, the faithless servant who
denied his Master !"
With another terrible cry, he again flung himself on the
ground and throwing his arms over his head, wept aloud in all
the fierce abandonment of a strong man's utter misery.
Melchior and Barabbas stood beside him, silent. At last
Melchior spoke.
" If thou art Peter" he began.
12
134 BARABBAS
" Oh, that I were not !" cried the unhappy man" Oh, that
I were anything in the world, a dog, a stone, a clod of earth,
anything but myself! Look you, what is a man worth, who,
in the hour of trial, deserts his friend ! And, such a Friend !
a King a God !" Tears choked his voice for a moment's
space ; then raising his forlorn head, he looked piteously at his
interlocutors. " Ye are strangers to me" he said " Why do
ye stand there pitying ? Ye know naught of what has chanced
concerning the Man of Nazareth."
" We know all," replied Melchior with grave gentleness
" And for the ' Nazarene,' grieve not, inasmuch as His
sorrows are over, He is dead."
" Ye know naught naught of the truth 1" cried Peter de-
spairingly " That He is dead is manifest, for the world is
dark as hell without Him 1 Yea, He is dead ; but ye know
not how His death was wrought ! I watched Him die ; afar
off I stood, always afar off! afraid to approach Him, afraid
to seek His pardon, afraid of His Goodness, afraid of my
wickedness. Last night He looked at me, looked at me
straightly when I spoke a lie. Three times did I falsely swear
I never knew Him, and He, He said no word, but only
looked and gently smiled. Why, oh, why" moaned the
miserable man, breaking into tears again, " why, when I de-
nied His friendship did He not slay me ? why did not the
earth then open and swallow me in fire ! Nay, there was no
quick vengeance taken, only that one look of His, that look
of pity and of love ! God, God ! I feel those heavenly
eyes upon me now, searching the secrets of my soul !"
Weeping, he hid his face, his wretchedness was so complete
and crushing that the hardest and most unpitying heart in the
world would have been moved to compassion for such bitter
and remorseful agony. Barabbas, inclined to despise him at
first for the confession of his base cowardice, relented some-)
what at the sight of so much desperation, and there was at
certain touch of tenderness in the austerity of Melchior's
manner, as with a few earnest words he persuaded the sorrow-
ing disciple to rise and lean upon his arm.
u What is past is past," he said gravely " Thou can'st
never undo, Peter, what thou hast done, and this falsehood
of thine must needs be chronicled for all time as a token to
prove a truth, the awful truth that often by one act, one
word, man makes his destiny. Alas for thee, Peter, that thou
too must serve as symbol ! A symbol of error, for on thy
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 135
one lie, self-serving men will build a fabric of lies in which the
Master whom thou hast denied will have no part. I know thy
remorse is great as thy sin, yet not even remorse can change
the law, for every deed, good or evil, that is done in this
world, works out its own inexorable result. Nevertheless thou
hast not erred so wickedly as thy fellow, Judas."
" Nay, but he could die !" cried Peter, turning his wild white
face to the dark heavens " Judas could die ! but I, coward .
as I am, live on I"
Barabbas started violently.
" Die ?" he exclaimed, " What sayest thou ? Judas? Judas
Iscariot ? He is not dead ?"
Peter threw up his arms with a frenzied gesture of despair.
" Not dead ? not dead ?" he echoed shrilly " If ye do
not believe me, come and see 1 Come ! Down by Gethsemane
ye will find him, outside the garden, in a dark hollow sloping
downward like a grave, under the thickest shadows of the
olive-trees and close to the spot where he betrayed the Master.
There ye shall behold him !" and his agonised voice sank to a
shuddering whisper ; " His body hangs from a gnarled leafless
branch like some untimely fruit of hell, some monstrous birth
of devils ! the very air seems poisoned by his livid corpse !
Horrible ! . . . horrible ! ... ye know not how he looks,
. . . dead, . . . aod swinging from the leafless bough ! He
slew himself thus last night rather than face this day, would
to God I had done likewise 1 so should I have been even as
he, cold, stiff" and free from torturing memory these many
hours !"
Overwhelmed by this new and unexpected horror, Barabbas
felt as though the earth were giving way beneath him, he
staggered and would have fallen had not Melchior caught him
by the arm.
" Judith !" he gasped hoarsely " Judith ! her brother
dead and self-slain ! How will she bear it ! Oh, my God,
my God ! who will tell her 1"
Peter heard the muttered words and gave vent to a bitter
cry of misery and fury.
"Who will tell her!" he shrieked I will! I will con-
front the fiend in woman's shape, the mocking, smiling, sweet-
voiced, damned devil who lured us on to treachery ! Judith,
sayest thou ? Bring me to her, confront me with her, and I
will blazon forth the truth ! I will rend heaven asunder with
mine accusation 1"
136 BARABBAS
He shook his clenched hands aloft, and for the moment, his
grief-stricken face took upon itself a grandeur and sublimity
of wrath that was almost superhuman.
"Who will tell her?" he repeated "Not only I but the
slain Judas himself will tell her ! his fixed and glassy eyes
will brand their curse upon her, his stark dead body will lay
its weight upon her life, his dumb mouth will utter speechless
oracles of vengeance I Accursed be her name forever ! she
knew, she knew how weak men are, how blind, how mad,
how fooled and frenzied by a woman's beauty, she traded on
her brother's tenderness, and with the witchery of her tongue
she did beguile even me. Do I excuse mine own great wicked-
ness? Nay, for my fault was not of her persuasion, and I am
in my own sight viler than any sinner that breathes, but I
say she knew, as evil women all do know, the miserable weak-
ness of mankind, and knowing it she had no mercy ! 'Tis she
hath brought her brother to his death, for 'twas her subtle
seeming-true persuasion that did work upon his mind and lead
him to betray the Master ! Yea, 'twas even thus ! and I will
tell her so ! I will not shrink ! God grant that every word I
speak may be as a dagger in her false false heart to stab and
torture her for ever 1"
His features were transfigured by strange fervour, a solemn
passion, austere and menacing, glowed in his anguished eyes,
and Barabbas, with a wild gesture of entreaty cried aloud,
" Man, undo thy curse 1 She is but a woman and I loved
her!"
Peter looked at him with a distracted dreary smile.
" Loved her ! Who art thou that speakest of love in these
days of death ? Lo you, there is no love left in all the world,
'tis crucified ! Loved her, thou sayest ? Then come and
see her work, come ! 'tis a brave testimony of true love !
come !"
He beckoned them mysteriously, and began to run before
them. . . . Melchior stopped him.
"Where dost thou hasten, Peter?" he said gently, "Thou
art distraught with sorrow, whither would'st thou have us
follow thee?"
" To Gethsemane !" replied Peter with a terrible look " To
Gethsemane, but not inside the garden ! No no ! for
there He, the Elect of God, the Messenger of Heaven, last
night prayed alone, and we, we His disciples, did we pray
also? Nay we slept!" and he broke into a discordant peal
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 137
of delirious laughter " We, being men, could find naught
better to do than sleep ! More senseless than the clods of
earth on which we lay, we slumbered heavily inert, dead to
our Master's presence, deaf to His voice ! ' Could ye not
watch' said He, with soft patience to us, ' with Me one hour ?'
No, not one hour ! it was not in us to forget ourselves in His
grief, even for that space of time. We craved for sleep, and
took it, we could not sacrifice an hour's comfort for His sake !
Why, all heaven was wakeful ! the very leaves and blades of
grass must have found eyes to watch with Him, we, we men
only, His friends and followers slept ! Oh, 'twas brave of
us 1 'twas passing tender ! Mark ye thus the value of earth's
love ! we swore we loved Him, nevertheless we left Him.
When the guards came suddenly upon us, we all forsook Him
and fled, I only followed Him, but afar off, always afar off I
This is what man calls faithfulness !" He paused, trembling
violently, then resumed in impatience and agitation u Come !
not inside Gethsemane, for methinks there are angels there,
but outside, where Judas waits ! He is patient enough now,
he will not move from thence till he is carried, will ye bear
him home ? Home to his father's house ! lay him down at
his sister's feet while his dead eyes stare beyond all life and
time out to interminable doom ! Carry him home and lay him
down ! down before her who did wickedly and wantonly work
his ruin, and let her weep weep till tears drown every vestige
of her beauty, and yet she shall never blot from her accursed
life the memory of the evil she hath done !"
" Oh, thou unpitying soul !" cried Barabbas desperately
" What proof hast thou, thou self-convicted false disciple, of
Judith's wrong-doing ? How hath she merited thy malediction ?
Thou dost rave ! thy words are wild and without reason ! as
coward thou did'st deny thy Master, as coward still thou wilt
shift blame upon a woman ! How can'st thou judge of her r
being thyself admittedly so vile ?"
' Peter looked at him in haggard misery.
" Vile truly am I" he said " And coward I have pro-
claimed myself. But who art thou ? If I mistake not, thou
art the people's chosen rescued prisoner, Barabbas is thy
name. Wert thou not thief and murderer? Art thou not
vile? Art thou not coward? I reproach thee not for thy
sins ! Nevertheless I know who roused the baser part of me,
for every man hath a baser part, and who did change the
faithful Judas to a traitor. 'Twas subtly done, 'twas even
12*
138 BARABBAS
wise in seeming, so cunningly contrived as to appear most
truly for the best. Would ye know how ? Then follow me
as I bid and I will tell all while my heart is full ; for if God
be merciful to me I shall not live long ; and I must speak the
truth before I die."
He was calmer now and his words were more coherent ;
Melchior exchanged a meaning look with Barabbas, and they
both silently prepared to follow him. As they began to walk
forward slowly, a man, tall, and of singularly stately bearing,
brushed past them in the darkness, and with a murmured word
of apology and salutation pressed on in evident haste. Peter
stopped abruptly, looking after him.
" Yonder goes Joseph of Arimathea" he murmured, strain^
ing his eyes through the evening shadows to watch the swiftly
receding figure u A good man and a just. In secret he also
was one of the Master's followers. Whither, I wonder, doth
he bend his steps so late?"
He seemed troubled and perplexed ; Melchior touched his
arm to recall his wandering thoughts. He started as from a
dream and looked round with a vague smile. At that mo-
ment the moon rose, and lifting up a silver rim above Calvary,
illumined with sudden ghostly radiance the three crosses on the
summit of the hill. They were empty. With haggard face
and piteous eyes, Peter gazed upward and realised that the
body of his Lord was taken down from the cross and no longer
visible, and, covering his face in a fold of his mantle, he
turned away and walked on slowly, while his companions fol-
lowing him in pitying silence heard the sound of smothered
bitter weeping.
CHAPTER XXII.
AT the foot of the hill they stopped.
To the left a tuft of palm-trees towered, and under their
spreading fan-like leaves was a well of clear water, with a
rough stone bench beside it. The stars were beginning to
sparkle thickly in the sky, and the climbing moon already lit
the landscape with almost the clearness of day.
Peter uncovered his pallid face and looked awfully around
him.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 139
" Here," he said in trembling accents, " here the Master
sat three days agone. Here did He discourse of marvels, of
the end of this world and of the glory of the world to come,
and flashing upon us His eyes full of strange light and fire He
said 'Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My words shall
not pass away /' Here, only three days agone !"
He sighed heavily, and moving feebly to the stone bench,
sank down upon it, shuddering.
" Bear with me, sirs, a while" he murmured faintly,
" There is a mist before my sight, and I must rest ere I can
walk further. Would ye not think ine stricken old ? yet I
am young younger by two years than He who died to-day.
Yea, we were all in the prime of youth and strength, we who
followed Him and we should by very ardour of our blood
have had some courage, yet were we as weak and cowardly as
though we had been dotards in the depth of age !"
His two companions said nothing. Barabbas, preoccupied
with thoughts too wretched for utterance, sat down wearily on
the projecting edge of the well, and btared darkly into the still
water where a few stars were glitteringly reflected ; Melchior
stood, leaning slightly against one of the tall slim palm-tree
stems, his picturesque saffron-hued garments appearing white
in the early brilliance of the moon, and his dark features
sternly composed and attentive. To him Peter turned his rest-
less weary eyes.
"Thou art of Egypt surely?" he said " Thou hast the
manner born of the land where men do chronicle the histories
of life and time ?"
Melchior met his questioning gaze tranquilly.
" Trouble not thy mind concerning me, thou forlorn disciple
of the God !" he answered " Whence I come or whither I go
is of no more purport than the tossing hither and thither of a
grain of dust or sand. Henceforward let no man set value on
himself, since the Divine hath condescended to be humiliated
even unto death."
Peter scrutinised him yet more closely.
" Wert thou also His disciple ?" he asked.
" As well inquire of me whether I feel the warmth and see
the glory of the sun !" responded Melchior " Those of my
race and calling have known of Him these thousand years and
waited for His coming. Nevertheless, touching these mysteries
they are not for thy nation, Peter, nor for thy time, where-
fore I pray thee, if thou desirest to have speech with us on
140 BARABBAS
any matter, let it be now, and concern not thy mind with the
creed of one who is and ever will be a stranger to Judaea."
He spoke gravely, gently, but with an air that repelled
inquisitiveness.
Peter still kept his eyes fixed musingly upon him, then he
gave vent to another troubled sigh.
" Be it as thou wilt 1" he said " Yet truly thou dost call to
mind the tale I have been told of certain kings that came to
worship the Lord at Bethlehem, the night that He was born.
'Twas a strange history ! and often have I marvelled how they
could have known the very day and hour, . . . moreover there
were wise men from the East" He broke off, then added
hurriedly " Wert thou perchance one of these ?"
Melchior shook his head slightly, a faint serious smile on his
lips.
" Howbeit," went on Peter with melancholy emotion, " if
thou dost ever write of this day, I pray thee write truly. For
methiuks the Jews will coin lies to cleanse this day from out
the annals of their history."
" 'Tis thou should'st write, Peter" said Melchior with a
keen look, "And in thy chronicle confess thine own great
sin."
" I am no scribe" replied the disciple sorrowfully, " T have
never learned the skill of letters. But if I ever wrote, thinkest
thou I would omit confession of my frailty ? Nay ! I would
blazon it in words of fire !" He paused with a wild look, then
resumed more calmly "Sir, this will never be. I am an
ignorant man, and have no learning save that which He of
Nazareth taught, and which I was ever the last to comprehend.
Therefore I say, report my story faithfully and if thou wilt
be just say this of the dead Judas, that out of vain-glorious
pride and love he did betray his Master, yea, out of love was
born the sin, love and not treachery 1"
Barabbas turned from his dreary contemplation of the deep
well-water, and fixed his brooding black eyes upon the speaker,
Melchior still maintained his attitude of grave and serene
attention.
" Judith was treacherous" continued Peter " but not so
Judas. Beautiful as he was and young, his thoughts aspired
to good, his dreams were for the purification of the world,
the happiness of all mankind. He loved the Master, ay,
with a great and passionate love exceeding; all of ours, and he
believed in His Divinity and worshipped Him. He willingly
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 141
resigned home, country and kindred to follow Him, and now,
having sinned against Him, he hath given his life as penalty.
Can mortal man do more ? Grod knoweth !"
He stopped again, his breath came in a short gasping sigh.
" When we entered Jerusalem a week agone" lie continued
slowly, " Judas had been long absent from his father's house,
and long estranged from his one sister whom he loved. Ye
know the manner of our coming to the city? how the multi-
tude rushed forth to meet and greet Jesus of Nazareth, and
called Him ' King,' shouting ' Hosannas' and strewing His
path with flowers and branches of the palm ? One who watched
the crowd pass by said unto me ' Why do ye not check this
folly? Think ye the priests will tamely bear the entrance of
this Galilean Prophet as a king? Nay verily they will slay
him as a traitor 1' And, when I told these words to Judas, he
smiled right joyously, saying, ' What need we care for priestly
malice ? Truly our Master is a King ! the King of Heaven,
the King of earth ! and all the powers of hell itself shall not
prevail against Him !' Seeing his faith and love were such, I
said no more, though truly my heart misgave me."
His eyes dwelt on the ground with an unseeing dreary pain.
" That night, that very night on which we entered Jerusalem,
Judas went forth to see his sister. Oft had he spoken of her
fairness, of the wonder of her beauty, which, he would swear,
was gorgeous as the radiance of roses in the sun. He meant
to bring her to the Master's feet, to tell her of His teachings,
His miracles, His wondrous tenderness and love for all that
were in sickness or in sorrow. Light-hearted as a boy, he left
us on this errand, but when he returned to us again, he was
no more the same. Sitting apart from us gloomy and absorbed
in thought, oft times I saw him gazing at our Lord with a
strange grief and yearning in his eyes as though he sought to
pierce the depth of some great mystery. The days went on,
till two evenings before we shared with our Master the supper
of the Passover. Then Judas came to me, and taking me
aside, unburdened all his secret mind."
Here Peter newly smitten by remorse and despair gave an
eloquent gesture half of wrath, half of suffering.
"Heaven be my witness!" he cried " that when I heard
his plan I thought it would be well ! I thought that all the
world would see we had not worshipped the Divine Man in
vaiu 1 Pride in His glory, love for His Name, and ignorance
of destiny, these were the sins of Judas Iscariot, but there
142 BAR ABB AS
was no malice in him, that I swear 1 The wretched youth'*
ambition for his Master was his ruin but of us separate twain
I was the faithless one ! Judas, even in his fault, was never-
theless faithful ! Dost thou hear me, thou silent dreamer out
of Egypt ?" and he flashed a wild glance at the quiet Melchior ;
" Dost thou hear? Write it if thou wilt on granite tablets in
thy mystic land of the moon, for I will have it known !
Judas was faithful, I say ! and he loved the Lord better than
any one of us all !"
" I hear thy words, Peter" said Melchior gently " and I
shall remember their purport."
Calmed by the soft reply, the unhappy disciple recovered in
part his self-possession, and went on with the coherent sequence
of his narrative.
" Yea, in all things, Judas was faithful. When he came
first to confide in me, he told me that the chief priests and
elders of the city were full of wrath and fear at the sway our
Master had obtained over the minds of the people, and that
they sought some excuse to kill Him. ' Then let us away,'
said I. ' Let us return unto the mountains, and the shores of
Galilee, where our beloved Lord can teach His followers, un-
molested, and at liberty.' ' Nay !' returned Judas in a voice
of triumph ' Knowest thou not that if His words be true, our
Lord can never die? Wherefore, why should we be driven
from the city as though we were affrighted concerning His
safety ? Hear first what my sister Judith saith.' And I did
hear."
Barabbas looked up, his eyes gleaming with anxiety and
foreboding. Peter met his gaze mournfully.
" She Judith so I learned, had welcomed her errant
brother with such tenderness as moved his heart. She re-
proached him not at all, but listened with a patient interest to
the story of his wanderings. Then she most gently said she
doubted not the truth of the Divinity dwelling within the
famous ' Nazarene,' but surely, she argued, it were not un-
reasonable to ask that such Divinity be proved? Whereat
Judas, troubled in spirit, replied ' Verily it hath been proved
oftentimes by many marvellous miracles. 1 Not in Jerusalem,
not to the priests and rulers' answered Judith. ' For they
believe nothing of thy Prophet of Galilee, save that He is a
false blasphemer, a malcontent and traitor. Nevertheless if He
be of supreme omnipotence as thou dost say. Judas, 'tis thou
oan'st make Him seize at once the mastery of the world, and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 143
thus how grandly thou wilt prove thy love !' Judas, entranced
at the boldness of this thought, bade her tell him how such
glory for his Lord might speedily be won. ' Never was task
more easy' she replied ' Resign Him to the law, betray
Him to the priests ! Then will He avow His godhead with all
the majesty of Heaven! We shall acclaim Him as the true
Messiah, and not we alone, but every nation of the earth
must worship Him ! For bethink thee, dearest brother, if Ha
be indeed Divine, He cannot be slain by any earthly foe/
[This," continued Peter, " is what Judas told me of his sister 'a
word. And, at the time, it seemed both wise and just. For
why should our great Lord suffer poverty and pain when em-
pires could be His ? Why should He wander homeless through
the world, when all the palaces of earth should open to His
coming? So Judas thought, and I thought with him, for
the Master being in all things glorious, we saw no wrong in
striving to make His glory manifest."
" Nature's symbols are hard to read, Peter," said Melchior
suddenly " And of a truth thou can'st not comprehend their
mystic lettering! What glory has ever yet been rendered
' manifest' except through suffering ? How could'st thou think
to fit the tawdry splendours of earthly kingdoms to the em-
bodied Spirit of the Divine? What throned and jewelled
potentate hath ever lifted from the world a portion of its weight
of sin ? What name applauded by the people, hath ever yet
bestowed salvation on a living soul ? Lo, the very prophets of
thy race have prophesied to thee in vain, and to thy scared
wits the oldest oracles lack meaning ! Did not thy Master tell
thee of His fate, and could'st thou not believe even Him?"
Peter grew very pale, and his head drooped on his breast.
" Yea, He did tell me" he answered sorrowfully " And I
rebuked Him ! I ! I said ' This shall not be.' And with
; all the wrath of a wronged King He turned upon me saying
' Get thee behind Me, Satan I for thou savoiirest not the
things that be of God, but the things that be of men.' And
I fell back from Him affrighted, and was sore at heart all
day!"
Melchior left his position by the palm-tree, and advancing,
laid one hand on the disciple's arm.
" And thou could'st not realise, weak soul, these ' things that
be of God' ?" he queried gravely " Thou could'st not detach
thy thoughts from earth? earth's paltry power and foolish
flaunting ostentation ? Alas for thee and those that take thee
144 BARABBAS
for a guide ! for verily this fatal clinging of thy soul to things
temporal shall warp thy way for ever and taiut thy mis-
sion !"
Peter rose from his seat gazing at the speaker in wonder and
dread. The moonlight fell on both their faces ; Melchior's
was calm, stern and resolved, Peter's expressed the deepest
agitation.
" In God's name who art thou ?" he asked apprehensively^-
*' By whose authority dost thou prophesy concerning me ?"
Melchior answered not.
" None shall take me for guide !" went on Peter more ex-
citedly " For do I not confess myself a faulty man and spirit-
less? Moreover I am subject to temptations" and he shud-
dered "temptations many and grievous. Lo, the Master
knew this of me, for last night only last night He said unto
me ' Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have thee that he
may sift thee even as wheat. But 1 have prayed for thee that
thy faith fail not 1 "
" And neither shall it fail !" interrupted Melchior solemnly
" By faith alone the fabric raised upon thy name shall live 1
Nevertheless thy cowardice and fears shall live on also, and thy
lie shall be the seed from whence shall grow harvests of error !
The law of compensation weighs on thee even as on every man,
and thy one negation, Petrus, shall be the cause of many !"
Peter looked at the dark inscrutable countenance that con-
fronted him, and lifted his hands as though to ward off some
menacing destiny. He trembled violently.
" Strange prophet, thou dost fill my soul with terrors !" he
faltered " What have I to do with those that shall come after
me ? Surely when these days are remembered, so will my sin
be known and evermore accursed, and who would raise a
fabric, as thou sayest, on the memory of a lie ? Nay, nay !
prophesy if thou wilt, good or evil, an' thou must needs pro-j
phesy but not here not in this place where the Master sat-
BO lately. It is as though He heard us there is something of
His presence in the air !"
He cast a timorous glance up and down, and then began to
walk forward feebly yet hurriedly. They all three paced along
the moonlit road, Barabbas casting many a dubious side-look
at the worn and troubled face of the disciple.
"Strange that this man could have denied his Master!" he
thought with passionate scorn " And I, base sinner as I am.
having but seen that Master once, would willingly have died
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 145
for Him had it been possible ! If all His followers are of such
coward stuff as this, surely the history of this day, if left to
them, will be but a perverted chronicle !"
Meanwhile, after a heavy pause, Peter resumed his inter-
rupted narrative.
" When Judas told me of his sister's words, methought I
saw new light break in upon our lives. The world would be a
paradise, all men would be united in love and brotherhood if
once the God on earth were openly revealed. Yet out of fear
I hesitated to pronounce a judgment; and seeing this, Judas
persuaded me to go with him to Judith and hear her speak
upon the matter. So, ho said, I should be better skilled to
reason without haste or prejudice."
Here he threw up his hands with a wild gesture.
" Would I had never seen her !" he cried " In what a fair
disguise the fiend did come to tempt my soul ! I took her for
an angel of good counsel ! her beauty, her mild voice, her sweet
persuasions, her seeming-wise suggestions, oh, they made havoc
of my better thoughts ! She stood before us in her father's
garden, clothed softly in pure white, a very spirit of gentleness
and quietude, speaking full soberly and with most excellent
justice as I deemed. ' Truly I doubt not that this Lord of
thine is very God,' she said ' Nevertheless as the rulers of the
city believe Him naught but human perjurer and traitor, ye
who love Him should compel Him to declare His glory. For
if He be not, as He saith, Divine, ye do wrong to follow a
deceiver. Surely this thing is plain ? If He be God, we all
will worship Him ; if He be man only, why then ye are but
blindly led astray and made as fools by trickery.' Thus did
she speak, and I believed her, her words seemed full of truth
and justice, she was right, I said, our Master was Divine,
and He should prove it 1 Smiling, she bowed her head and
left us, and Judas, turning on me cried ' Now, Simon
Peter, what thinkest thou ?' And I, answering said, ' Do as
it seemeth well unto thee, Judas ! Our Lord is Lord of the
whole heaven and earth, and none can injure Him or take away
His glory !' "
Pausing again he looked upward with a sad wild anguish,
the pale moonbeams falling coldly on his tear-worn rugged
countenance.
" What counsel could I give !" he exclaimed, as though he
were defending himself to some unseen listener in the starry
ekies " What did I know ? I had no key to heaven's mys-
a k 13
146 BARABBAS
teries ! A poor unlearned fisherman, casting my nets by Gal.
ilee was I, when He, the Marvellous One, came suddenly upon
me, and with a lightning-glance of power said 'Follow Me /'
Andrew, my brother, was with me, and he will testify of this,
that we were ignorant and stricken by poverty, and all we
knew and felt was, that this Jesus of Nazareth must be obeyed,
that we were bound by some mysterious influence to follow
where He led, that home and kindred were as nought to us,
compared with one smile, one searching look from Him ! In
beauty, in majesty, in high command a very King He seemed ;
why, why should not the world have known it 1 It seemed
but natural, it seemed but just, and last night, when Judas
rose from supper and went out, I knew whither he had gone !
I knew I knew!" He shuddered and groaned, then with
a savage gesture cried " A curse on woman ! Through her
came sin and death ! through her is hell created ! through
her is now betrayed the Holy One of God ! Accursed may
she be for ever ! and cursed be all men who love her perish-
able beauty, and trust her treacherous soul I"
His white face became contorted with fury ; Melchior sur-
veyed him with calm compassion.
" Thy curses are in vain, Petrus," he said " They do but
sound on deaf and empty air. He who curses woman or de-
spises her, must henceforth be himself despised and accursed.
For now by woman's purity is the whole world redeemed,
by woman's tenderness and patience the cords of everlasting
love are tied between this earth and highest heaven ! Truly
the language of symbols is hid from thee, if thou can'st curse
woman, remembering that of woman thy Master was born into
the world ! Were there a million treacherous women meriting
thy curse, it matters little, for from henceforward Womanhood
is rendered sacred in the sight of the Eternal, through Her
whom now we call the Mother of the ' Nazarene' !"
He paused, then added, " Moreover thou can'st not fasten
the betrayal of thy Lord on Judith Iscariot. Partly she was
to blame, yet she was but a tool in the hands of the true
arch-traitor. If ye would track treachery home to its very
source, search for it where it hath its chief abiding-place, in
the dens of priestcraft and tyranny, among the seeming holy,
the seeming sanctified, they with whom lies are part of sacred
office!"
Barabbas started.
"'Twaa Caiaphas!" he cried excitedly " Tell me such
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 147
news will be some comfort to my soul 'twas Caiaphas who
first did scheme this murder of the Christ ?"
Melchior looked at him steadily.
"Even so" he said " 'Twas Caiaphas. What would'st
thou ? 'Tis ever and 'twill ever be a self-professing Priest of
the Divine who crucifies Divinity 1"
CHAPTER XXIIL^.
As he spoko a faint wind stirred the shrubs and trees on
either side of the road like an assenting sigh from some wan-
dering spirit. The disciple Peter stared upon him in troubled
and vague amazement.
" How could it be Caiaphas ?" he asked " True it is that
Judas went to Caiaphas, but not till he had himself resolved
upon the deed he meant to do."
" Thou knowest not each private detail of this history,
Petrus" answered Melchior, " And as thou knowest not all,
neither will they who come after thee ever know. Hast thou
not heard of love existing between man and woman, or if not
love, a passion passing by that name, which hath made many
strange annals in history ? Even such passion has there been
'twixt haughty Caiaphas and wanton Judith, nay, thou mis-
guided Barabbas, wince not nor groan 'tis true ! To her the
sensual priest confided all his plan ; he trained her in the part
she had to play, by his command and in his very words she
did persuade and tempt her credulous brother, yea, even with
a seeming excellent purpose in the work, to bring back Judas
to his home and the religion of his fathers. Moreover for her
ready help and willingness she did receive much gold from
Caiaphas, and jewels and soft raiment, things that such women
love far more than virtue. ' Trap me the Nazarene, fair
Judith,' he said, ' with such discretion and wise subtilty that
it shall seem not my work, but thy brother's act of conscience
and repentance to his faith and people, and I will give thee
whatsoever most thy heart desires.' And well did she obey
him, as why should she not ? seeing he long hath been her
lover."
Barabbas shrank back trembling. Every instinct in him
143 B ARABS AS
told him it was the truth he heard, yet he could not bear to
have it thus pitilessly thrust upon him. Meanwhile the un-
happy Simon Peter wrung his hands together in despera-
tion.
" Nay, who could guess so deep and dastardly a plot 1" he
cried " And if thou knewest it, thou fateful stranger, and
wert in Jerusalem, why not have given us warning?"
"Of what profit would have been my words?" demanded
Melchior with sudden scorn " Ye would not believe the say-
ings of your Master, how then should yc believe me ? Ye
were and are, the very emblems of mankind, self-seeking, doubt-
ing and timorous, and gloze it over as ye will, ye were all un-
faithful and afraid ! As for me, 'tis not my creed to strive
and turn the course of destiny. I say the priests have killed
the Christ, and the great murder is not yet finished. For they
will kill him spiritually a million times again ere earth shall
fully comprehend the glory of His message ! Ay ! through
the vista of a thousand coming years and more I see His silent
patient Figure stretched upon the Cross, and ever the priests
surround Him, driving in the nails !" He paused, and his
dark eyes flashed with a strange fierce passion, then he con-
tinued quietly " 'Tis so ordained. Lo, yonder are the shad-
ows of Gethsemane, if thou hast aught of import more to
say of Judas, it were well to speak it here and now ere
we go further."
Instinctively he lowered his voice, and with equal instinct-
iveness, all three men drew closer together, the moonlight
casting lengthened reflections of their draped figures on a
smooth piece of sun-dried turf which sloped in undulating
lines down towards a thicket of olive-trees glimmering silver-
grey in the near distance. Peter trembled as with icy cold
and looked timorously backward over his shoulder with the
manner of one who expects to see some awful presence close
behind him.
" Yea, out of justice to the dead, out of pure justice"
he muttered faintly " ye should know all of Judas that my
faltering tongue can tell. For of a truth his end is horrible !
'Twas a brave youth, comely and bold, and warm and passion-
ate, and to die thus alone down there in the darkness I" ...
Clenching his fists hard, he tried to control his nervous shud-
dering, and went on, speaking in low troubled tones, " I said
he went to Caiaphas. This was two nights before our last
supper with the Lord. He told me all. Caiaphas feigned both
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 149
anger and indifference. ' We have no fear of thy mad fanatic
out of Galilee' he said ' but if thy conscience do reproach
thee, Judas, as well it may, for thy desertion of the law and
*,he faith of thine own people, we will not discourage or reject
thy service. Yet think not thou can'st arrogantly place the
Sanhedrim under any personal obligation for thine offered aid,
the priests elect may take no favours from one who hath
perversely deserted the holy rites of God, and hath forsaken
'the following of his fathers. Understand well, we cannot owe
thee gratitude, for thou hast severed thyself wilfully from us
and hast despised our high authority. Wherefore if now thou
art prepared to render up the Man of Galilee, name thine own
payment.' Now Judas had no thought of this, and being
sorely grieved, refused, and went away, stricken at heart. And
to his sister he declared all, and said ' I will not sell the Lord
into His glory for base coin.' But she made light of the mat-
ter and mocked at his scruples. ' Thou silly soul, thou dost not
sell thy Lord !' she said ' Thou dost merely enter into a legal
form of contract, which concerns thee little. 'Tis the Phari-
saical rule of honour not to accept unpaid service from one
who doth openly reject the faith. Take what they offer thee,
can'st thou not use it for the sick and poor? Remember thou
art serving thy Master, thou dost not 'sell' or otherwise
betray Him. Thy work prepares Him to avow His glory !
think what a marvel thou wilt thus reveal to all the world !
Hesitate not therefore for a mere scribe's formula.' Then
Judas, thus persuaded, went again to Caiaphas saying ' Truly
ye have your laws with which I have naught in common, yet if
it must be so, what will ye give me if I betray Him unto you f
And straightway they counted from the treasury thirty pieces
of silver, which Judas took unwillingly. Alas, alas 1 If he
had only known ! Surely this very money was as a blind for
Caiaphas, a seeming legal proof that he was innocent of
treachery, but that in custom of the law, he paid the volun-
tary, selt'-convicted traitor. Who could excuse Caiaphas of
cruelty ? of malice ? of iutent to murder ? Caiaphas was
not paid ! All things conspired to fix the blame on Judas,
to make him bear alone that awful weight of crime, which
heavier than all burdens of despair hath sunk him now within
the depths of hell."
He pressed his hands upon his forehead for a moment and
was silent. Barabbas watched him gloomily, absorbed in his
every gesture, his every word, Melchior's eyes were cast down,
13*
150 BARABBAS
and a stern expression shadowed his features, notwithstanding
that every incident of the story seemed known to him.
"The end came quickly" proceeded the disciple, after a
sorrowful pause "All the misery and fury and despair fell
upon us in one blow. The haste and anger of the law swept
down upon us like a storm which we had neither force nor
valour to resist. At the entrance to the garden of Gethsemane,
Judas waited, with glare of torches and armed men, and as /
the Lord came forth from out of the shadows of the trees, he
went to meet Him. Pale with expected triumph, love and
fear, he cried ' Hail, Master /' and kissed Him. And such a
silence fell upon us all, that methought the very earth had
stopped its course, and that all the stars were listening. Now,
thought I, will the glory of the God expand ! and even as we
saw Him transfigured on the mountain, so will He shine in
splendour, mighty and terrible, and overwhelm His enemies as
with fire I But He, the Master, changed not in aught nor
spoke ; in stillness and in patience He fixed His eyes on Judas
for a while then in low tones He said ' Friend, wherefore
art thou come ? Betrayest thou the Son of Man with a ki'ss ?'
And Judas with a cry of anguish, fell back from Him
affrighted, and clutched at my garments, whispering ' Surely
I have sinned ! or else He hath deceived us !' Meanwhile
the armed guards stood mute as slaves, not offering to touch
the Lord, till He addressing them, said ' Whom seek ye ?'
Then they, abashed, did answer ' Jesus of Nazareth.'
Whereupon the Master looked upon them straightly, saying
* / am He. 1 Then, as though smitten by thunder at these
words, they went backward and fell to the ground. And I,
foolishly, thought the hour we waited for had come, for never
did such splendour, such dignity and power appear in mortal
frame as at that moment glorified our Lord ! Again He spoke
unto the guard, saying ' Whom seek ye T And again they
answered trembling 'Jesus of Nazareth. 1 Then said He
tranquilly ' / have told ye that I am He. If therefore ye
teek Me, let these go their way? And turning upon us slowly
He waved His hand in parting, a kingly sign of proud and
calm dismissal. Staring upon Him, as though He were a
vision, we retreated from His path, while He did royally
advance and render Himself up to those who sought Him.
And these, in part recovered from their fear, laid hold on Him
and led Him away. We, we, His disciples gazed after Him
a while, then gazing on each other, raved and wept. De-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDF 151
eeived ! Deceived !' we cried ' He is not God but man !'
And then we fled, each on our separate ways, and only I,
moved by desire to see the end, followed the Master afar off,
even unto the very house of Caiaphas."
Here Peter stopped, overcome by agitation. Tears sprung
to his eyes and choked his voice, but presently mastering him-
self with an effort he said hoarsely, and in ashamed accents,
" There I did deny him ! I confess it, I denied Him.
When the chattering slaves and servants of the high-priest
declared I was His disciple, I swore, and said ' I know not the
man !' And after all 'twas true, 'twas true ! I knew not
the 'man,' for I had known, or thought that I had known,
the God !"
Melchior raised his piercing dark eyes and studied him
closely.
" Thus dost thou play the sophist I" he said with chill dis-
dain " Thus wilt thou bandy reasons and excuses for thine
own sins and follies I Weak, cowardly, and moved by the
desire of temporal shows, thou wilt invent pardon for thine
own blindness thus for ever ! Thou art the perfect emblem
of thy future fame ! If thou had'st truly known the God,
thou could' st not have denied Him, but if thou wilt speak
truth, Petrus, thou never hast believed in Him, save as a
possible earthly King, who might in time possess Jerusalem.
To that hope thou did'st cling, and of things heavenly thou
had'st no comprehension. To possess the earth has ever been
thy dream, maybe thou wilt possess it, thou and thy followers
after thee, but Heaven is far distant from thy ken !" Peter's
face flushed, and his eyes glittered with something like anger.
" Thou dost judge me harshly, stranger" he said. " Never-
theless perchance thou hast some justice in thy words. Yet
surely 'tis not unnatural to look for glory from what is glori-
ous? If God be God, why should He not declare Himself?
if He be ruler of the earth why should not His way be abso-
lute and visible?"
" Ha doth declare Himself His way is absolute and visi-
ble !" said Melchior, u But thou art not His medium, Petrus !
nor doth He stoop from highest Heaven to learn earth's laws
from thee."
Peter was silent. Barabbaa now looked at him with renewed
curiosity, he was beginning to find out the singular and com-
plex character of the man. Cowardice and dignity, terror and
anger, remorse and pride all struggled together in his nature,
152 BARABBAS
and even the untutored Barabbas could see that from thig
timorous disciple anything in the way of shiftiness or subter-
fuge might be expected, since he was capable of accusing and
excusing himself of sin at one and the same time.
" Say what thou wilt" he resumed, with a touch of defiance
in his manner " 'twas the chagrin and the bitter disappoint-
ment of my soul that caused me to deny the ' Man.' I was
aflame with eagerness to hail the God ! 'twould have been
easy for Him to declare His majesty, and yet, before the min-
ions of the law He held His peace ! His silence and His
patience maddened me ! and when He passed out with the
guard and looked at me, I wept, not only for my own base-
ness, but for sheer wretchedness at His refusal to reveal Him-
self to men. Meanwhile, as He was led away to Pontius
Pilate, Judas, furious with despair, rushed into the presence
of Caiaphas, and there before him and other of the priests and
elders cried aloud ' / have sinned, in that I have betrayed
the innocent blood! 1 And they, jeering at him, laughed
among themselves, and answered him saying ' What is that
to us ? See thou to that /' Whereat he flung down all the
silver they had given him on the floor before them and de-
parted, and as he ran from out the palace like a man dis-
traught, I met and stopped him. 'Judas, Judas, whither
goest thou ?' I cried. He beat me off. ' Home ! Home !'
he shrieked at me ' Home to her ! to the one sister whom
I loved, who did persuade my soul to this night's treachery 1
Let me pass ! for I must curse her ere I die ! her spirit
needs must follow mine to yonder beckoning Doom !' And
with a frightful force he tore himself from out my grasp, and
like a drifting phantom on the wind, was gone !"
Here Peter raised his hands with an eloquent gesture, as
though he again saw the vanishing form of the despairing
man.
" All through last night," he continued in hushed accents
" I sought for him in vain. Round and about Iscariot's house
I wandered aimlessly, I saw none of whom I dared ask news
of him, the fatal garden where together we had speech with
Judith, was silent and deserted. Through many streets of the
city, and along the road to Bethany I paced wearily, until at
last, some fateful spirit turned my steps towards Gethsemane.
And there, there at last I found him 1"
He paused, then suddenly began to walk rapidly.
" Come !" he said looking backward at Melchior and Barab-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 153
bas " Come ! The night advances, and he hath passed
already many lonely hours ! And not long since the Master
said ' Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay
down his life for his friends.' Verily Judas hath laid down
his life and look you, to die thus in the full prime of youth,
strangled even as a dog that hath run wild, is horrible ! will't
not suffice ? 'Twere hard that Judas should be evermore ac-
cursed, seeing that for his folly he hath paid the utmost penalty,
and is, by his own hand, dead !"
" And thou livest !" said Melchior with a cold smile " Thou
sayest well, Petrus ; 'twere hard that Judas should be ever-
more accursed and thou adjudged a true apostle ! Yet such
things happen for the world loves contraries and falsifications
of history, and while perchance it takes a month to spread a
lie, it takes a hundred centuries to prove a truth !"
Peter answered not he was pressing on with increasing
speed and agitation. All at once he halted, the road made
an abrupt slope towards a mass of dense foliage faintly grey in
the light of the moon.
" Hush ! hush !" he whispered " He is dead, but there
is a strange expression in his eyes, he looks as if he heard.
One cannot tell, the dead my hear for all we know ! Tread
gently, yonder is the garden of Gethsernane, but he is not
within it. He stays outside, almost upon the very spot
where he did give the Master up to death, meaning to give
Him glory ! Come ! we will persuade him to depart with us,
betwixt us three he shall be gently carried home, perchance
his sister Judith marvels at his absence, and waits for his
return 1 How she will smile upon him when she sees the
manner of his coming I"
And he began to walk forward on tiptoe. Barabbas grew
deadly .pale and caught Melchior by the arm. The rugged
figure of the disciple went on before them like a dark flutter-
ing shadow, and presently turned aside from the road towards
a turfy hollow where a group of ancient olive-trees stretched
out their gaunt black branches like spectral arms uplifted to
warn intruders back. Pausing at this gloomily frondaged
portal, Peter beckoned his companions with a solemn gesture,
then, stooping under the boughs he passed and disappeared.
Hushing their footsteps and rendered silent by the sense of
awe, Melchior and Barabbas followed. The hanging foliage
drooped over them heavily, and seemed to draw them in and
close them out of sight, and although there was scarcely any
154 BARABBAS
wind to move the air, the thick leaves rustled mysteriously
like ghostly voices whispering of some awful secret known to
them alone the secret of a tortured soul's remorse, the in-
describable horror of a sinner's death, self-sought iu the deeper
silence of their sylvan shadows.
CHAPTER XXIV.
MEANWHILE, the city of Jerusalem was pleasantly astir.
Lights twinkled from the windows of every house, and from
many an open door and flower-filled garden came the sounds
of music and dancing. Those who had been well-nigh dead
with fear at the earthquake and the unnatural darkness of the
day, were now rejoicing at the safety of themselves and their
relations. No more cause for apprehension remained ; the
night was cloudlessly beautiful, and brilliant with the tranquil
glory of the nearly full moon, and joyous parties of friends
assembled together without ceremony to join in merriment and
mutual congratulation. The scene on Calvary was the one
chief topic of conversation, every tongue discoursed eloquently
upon the heroic death of the " Nazarene." All agreed that
never was so beautiful a Being seen in mortal mould, or one
more brave, or royal of aspect, nevertheless it was also the
^ general opinion that it was well He was dead. There was no
doubt but that He would have been dangerous, He advanced
Himself as a reformer, and His teachings were decidedly set
against both the realm's priestcraft and policy. Moreover it
was evident that He possessed some strange interior power,
He had genius too, that strong and rare quality which draws
after it all the lesser and weaker spirits of men, it was well
and wise that He was crucified 1 People who had travelled as
far as Greece and Rome shook their heads and spoke pro-
foundly of " troublesome philosophers," they who insisted on
truth as a leading principle of life, and objected to shams.
" This Galilean was one of their kind" said a meditative
old scribe, standing at his house-door to chat with a passing
acquaintance, " Save that He spoke of a future life and an
eternal world, He could say no better and no more than they.
Surely there are stories enough of Socrates to fill one's mouth,
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 155
he was a man for truth also, and was forever thus upsetting
laws, wherefore they killed him. But he was old, and the
' Nazarene' was young, and death in youth is somewhat
piteous. All the same 'tis better so, for look you, He ran
wild with prophecy on life eternal. Heaven defend us all say
1, from any other world save this one ! this is enough for any
man and were there yet another to inherit, 'tis certain we are
not fitted for it, we die, and there's an end, no man ever rose
from the dead."
" Hast thou heard it said" suggested his friend hesita-
tingly, " that this same ' Nazarene' declared that He would rise
again ?"
The old scribe smiled contemptuously.
" I have heard many things" he answered, " but because
1 hear, I am not compelled to believe. And of all the follies
ever spoken this is the greatest. No doubt the Galilean's fol-
lowers would steal His body if they could, and swear He had
arisen from the dead, but the high-priest Caiaphas has had
a warning, and he will guard against deception. Trouble not
thyself with such rumours, a dead man, even a prophet of
God, is dead for ever."
And he went in and shut his door, leaving his acquaintance
to go his way homeward, which that personage did somewhat
slowly and thoughtfully.
All the streets of the city were bathed in a silver-clear
shower of moonbeams, the air was balmy and scented with
the fragrance of roses and orange-boughs, groups of youths
and maidens sauntered here and there in the cool of the vari-
ous gardens, laughing, chatting, and now and then lifting up
their well-attuned voices in strophes of choral song. Jerusa-
lem basked in the soft radiance of the Eastern night like a
fairy city of pleasure, and there was no sign among her joyous
people to show that the Redeemer of the world had died for
the world's sake that day.
In marked contrast to the animation prevailing in other
streets and courts, a great stillness surrounded the house of
Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor. The fountain in the
outer colonnade alone made music to itself as it tossed up its
delicate dust-like spray that fell tinkling back again into the
marble basin, no wandering breeze ruffled the petals of the
white roses that clung like little bunches of crumpled silk to
the dark walls, even the thirsty and monotonous chirp-chirp-
iug of the locusts had ceased. Now and then a servant
156 BARABBAS
crossed the court on some errand, with noiseless feet, and one
Roman soldier on guard paced slowly to and fro, his sandals
making scarcely any sound as he measured his stately march
forward a dozen lengths or so, then backward, then forward
again, the drooping pennon on his lifted lance throwing a float-
ing snake-like shadow behind him as he moved. Pilate, since
the morning, had been seriously indisposed, and all his retinue
were more or less uneasy. Quiet had been enforced upon the
household by its haughty and resolute mistress, and now that
night had fallen the deep hush seemed likely to be unbroken
till a new day should dawn. So that when a loud and urgent
knocking was heard at the outmost gate, the porter who opened
it was almost speechless with indignation and amazement.
" I prithee cease thy rude clamour" he said, after he had
looked out of his loophole of observation and seen that the
would-be intruder was a man of distinguished appearance and
attire " Thou can'st not enter here with all thy knocking,
the governor is ill and sees no man."
" Nevertheless I must have speech with him," responded the
visitor " I do beseech thee, friend, delay me not my matter
" I tell thee 'tis not possible" said the porter " Would'st
have us lose our heads for disobeying orders ? Or crucified
even as the ' Nazarene' ?"
" My business doth concern the ' Nazarene' " was the
reply, given hurriedly and with evident emotion " Tell this
to one in authority ; and say that 'tis Joseph of Arimathea who
waits without."
At these words the porter ceased arguing, and disappeared
across the court into the house. Presently he returned, accom-
panied by a tall slave, wearing a silver chain of office.
"Worthy Counsellor" said the retainer, respectfully sa-
luting the Ariraathean, " Thou can'st not at this late hour
have speech with Pilate, who hath been sorely overwrought by
the harassments of the day, but I am commanded by the lady
Justitia to say that she will receive thee willingly if indeed thy
matter is of the Man of Nazareth."
" It is it is" answered Joseph eagerly " I do entreat
thee, bring me to thy lady straight, for every moment lost doth
hinder the fulfilment of mine errand."
The slave said no more, but signed to the porter to unbar the
gate with as little noise as possible. Then he led the way across
the court, gave a word of explanation to the soldier on guard,
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDF 157
and finally escorted the visitor into an arched vestibule adorned
with flowering plants, and cooled by sparkling jets of water
that ran from carved lions' mouths into a deep basin of yellow
marble. Here the slave disappeared leaving the Arimathean
alone. He paced up and down with some impatience, full of
his own burning thoughts that chafed at every fresh delay, and
he was violently startled, when a grave mellow voice said '\>se
to him,
" What of the Christ ? Have ye indeed slain Him ?"
" Lady !" . . . he stammered, and turned to confront the
wife of Pilate, who had silently entered the vestibule behind
him. For a moment he could find no words wherewith to
answer her, the stedfastness of her dark eyes troubled him.
She was beautiful in a grand and stately way, her resolute
features and brooding brows expressed more fierceness than
tenderness, and yet her lips quivered with some deeply sup-
pressed emotion as she spoke again and said
" Surely thou art a Jew, and hast had thy share in this
murder ?"
With the shock of this bitterly pronounced accusation he
recovered his self-possession.
" Noble Justitia, I beseech thee in the name of God number
me not with the evil ones of this misguided nation !" he an-
swered passionately " Could I have saved the heaven-born
' Nazarene,' surely I would have given my own life willingly 1
For I have gathered profit from His holy doctrine, and am His
sworn disciple, though secretly, for fear of the harshness of
mine own people, who would cast me out from their midst, if
they knew the change wrought within my soul. Moreover I
am a man who hath studied the sayings of the prophets, not
lightly but with sober judgment, and do accept all the things
that now have chanced to us as fulfilment of the word of God.
And most heartily do I render thanks unto the Most High that
He hath in His great mercy, permitted me to see with mortal
eyes His chosen true Messiah !"
" Thou dost then freely acknowledge Him as One Divine ?"
said Justitia fixing a searching look upon him.
" Most surely, lady ! If ever any god did dwell on earth, 'twas
He."
"Then He lives yet?"
Joseph looked perplexed and troubled.
" Nay ! He is dead. Hath He not been crucified ?"
" Doth a god die ?" asked Justitia, her sombre eyes glittet-
H
158 BARABBAS
ing strangely " What power have mortal tortures on immor-
tal spirit? Summon thy reason and think calmly art sure
that He is dead ?"
Her words and manner were so solemn and impressive that
the Arimathean counsellor was for a moment bewildered and
amazed, and knew not what to say. Then, after a doubtful
pause he answered,
" Lady, as far as human eye and sense can judge, life hath
verily departed from Him. Hia body hath been taken down
from off the Cross, and for the reason that they found Him
dead, they have spared the breaking of His limbs. Whereas
the malefactors that were crucified with Him have had their
joints twisted and snapt asunder lest haply any spark of pained
existence should linger in them yet. But He of Nazareth
having perished utterly, and no faint pulse of blood being
feebly astir in any portion of His matchless frame, the men of
the law have judged it politic and merciful to give His mortal
pure remains to her who bore Him, Mary, His sorrowing
Mother, who weeps beside Him now."
Justitia heard, and her pale resolute face grew paler.
" Is't possible Divinity can perish !' ' she murmured. Again
she looked steadily, eearchingly at the thoughtful and earnest
countenance of the Arimathean, and added with a touch of the
domineering haughtiness which made her name a terror to her
household, " Then, Counsellor Joseph, if thy words be true,
and the Galilean Prophet be no longer living, what can thiue
errand be concerning Him ?"
" 'Tis naught but one of simple duty to the noble dead"
he replied quickly, and with anxiety " I fain would bury the
body of the Lord where it may be most reverently shrined and
undisturbed. There is a sepulchre newly hewn among the
rocks outside the city, not far from Calvary, but going down-
wards towards Gethsemane, 'twas meant for mine own tomb,
for well I know the years advance with me, and only God
knoweth how soon I may be called upon to die, nevertheless
if I may lay the body of the Master therein, I shall be well
content to be interred in baser ground below Him. We would
not have Him sepulchred with common malefactors, where-
fore, noble lady, I seek thy lord the governor's permission to
place within this unused burial cave of mine own choosing and
purchase, the sacred corpse of One, who to my thinking, was
indeed the Christ, albeit He hath been crucified. This is my
errand, and I have sped hither in haste to ask from Pilate
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 159
his free and favourable consent, which, if it be granted will
make of me a grateful debtor to the gentleness of Rome."
Justitia smiled darkly at the courteous phrase " the gentle-
ness of Rome," then her fierce brows contracted ia a puzzled
line.
" Truly I know not how to aid thee, friend," she said after
a pause " I have no power to grant thee this permit, and
my lord is sorely wearied and distempered by strange fancies
and dreams, unhappy and confusing dreams," she repeated
slowly and with a slight shudder " Yet stay I Wait but
one moment, I will inquire of him his mood, perchance it
may relieve him to have speech with thee."
Gliding away on her noiseless sandalled feet, her majestio
figure in its trailing robes of white glimmered in and out
the marble columns of the corridor and rapidly disappeared.
Joseph of Arimathea sighed heavily, and stood looking vaguely
at the trickling water running from the mouths of the stone
lions into the marble-lined hollow in the centre of the vesti-
bule, wondering to himself why his heart had beat so violently,
and why his thoughts had been so suddenly troubled when he
had been asked the question, " Art sure that He is dead ?" He
was not left long alone to indulge in his reflections, Justitia
returned almost as quickly as she had vanished, and pausing at
a little distance beckoned to him.
" Pilate will see thee" she said, as he eagerly obeyed her
gesture " But should'st thou find him wild and wandering ia
discourse, I pray thee heed him not. And beware how thou
dost speak of his distemper to the curious gossips of the city,
I would not have it noised abroad that he hath been all day
so far distracted from his usual self" here her steady voice
trembled and her proud eyes filled with sudden tears " He
hath been ill very ill and only I have tended him ; and not-
withstanding he is calmer now, thou must in converse use dis-
cretion."
" Trust me, noble lady" replied the Arimathean with pro-
found feeling, " I will most faithfully endeavour that I shall not
err in aught, or chafe thy lord with any new displeasure."
She bent her haughty head, partly in acknowledgment of his
words, partly to hide the tears that glittered on her lashes, and,
without further parley, led the way to her husband's private
room. In deep silence, hushing his footsteps needfully as he
moved, the Arimathean counsellor followed her.
1GO BARABBAS
CHAPTER XXV.
PASSING through a narrow passage curtained off from the
rest of the house, they entered a long low vaulted apartment
brilliantly ablaze with lights. Roman lamps set on iron brackets
illuminated every corner that would otherwise have been dark,
waxen torches flamed in every fixed sconce. There was so
much flare, and faint smoke from burnt perfumes, that for a
moment it was impossible to discern anything clearly, although
the wide casement window was set open to the night and steps
led down from it to a closely-walled garden on which the moon
poured refreshing showers of silver radiance eclipsing all the
artificial glamour and glare within. And at this casement, ex-
tended on a couch, lay Pilate, pallid and inert, with half-closed
eyes and limp hands falling on either side of the silken coverlet
spread over him he had the supine and passive air of a long-
ailing dying man to whom death would be release and blessed-
ness. Joseph of Arimathea could scarcely restrain an excla-
mation of amazed compassion as he saw him, but a warning
glance from Justitia silenced him, and he repressed his feeling.
She meanwhile went up to her husband's couch and knelt
beside it.
" The counsellor is here, Pontius" she said softly " Hast
thou strength to give him audience ?"
Pilate opened his eyes widely and stared vaguely at his visitor,
then lifting one hand that trembled in the air with weakness
beckoned him to approach.
" Come nearer, nearer el ill" he murmured with a kind of
feeble pettishness, " Thou hast the look of a shadow yonder,
the room is full of shadows. Thou art Joseph ? From that
ttty of the Jews called Arimathea?"
" Even so, my lord" answered Joseph in subdued accents,
noting with pained concern the Roman governor's prostrate and
evidently suffering condition.
" And being a Jew, what dost thou seek of me ?" went on
Pilate, his heavy lids again half closing over his eyes " Surely
I have this day fully satisfied the Israelitish thirst for blood 1"
" Most noble governor," said Joseph, with as careful gentle-
ness and humility as he could command " Believe me that I
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 161
am not one of those -who forced thee to the deed 'twas evident
thy spirit did repudiate and abhor. And albeit thou hast been
named a tyrant and a cruel man by the unthinking of my
nation, I know thy gentleness, having discovered much of thy
good work in deeds of charity among the poor, therefore I
come to beg of thee the Body of the Christ"
With a sudden excited movement, Pilate dashed aside the
silken draperies that covered him and sat up, nervously clutching
his wife's arm.
"The Body of the Christ!" he echoed wildly " Hearest
thou that, Justitia ! The Body of the Christ 1"
His purple garments fell about him in disordered folds, his
vest half open showed his chest heaving agitatedly with his
unquiet and irregular breathing, his eyes grew feverishly
luminous, and gleamed with a strange restless light from under
the shadow of his tossed and tumbled hair. Joseph, alarmed
at his aspect, stood hesitating, Justitia looked at him and
made him a mute sign to go on and make his appeal quickly.
" Yea, 'tis the Body of the Christ I ask from thee" he
proceeded then, anxiously yet resolvedly " And verily I would
not have troubled thee at this hour, Pilate, but that thou art
governor and ruler of the civil laws within Judaea, therefore
thou alone can'st give me that which hath been slain by law.
I fain would lay the sacred corpse within mine own new sepul-
chre, with all the tears and prayers befitting a great hero
dead."
" Dead ?" cried Pilate fixing a wild stare upon him
" Already dead ? Nay art thou sure ?"
A chill tremor shook the strong nerves of the Arimathean.
Here was the same question Justitia had asked him a few
'minutes since, and it aroused the same strange trouble in his
mind. And while he stood amazed, unable to find words for
an immediate response, Pilate sprang erect, tossing his arms
up like a man distraught.
" Dead !" he cried again. " fools, fools whose sight is so
deceived ! No mortal power can slay the ' Nazarene,' He
lives and He hath always lived ! yea, from the beginning even
Unto the end if any end there be ! What ? ye have crucified
Him ? ye have seen His flesh pierced, and His blood flow ?
Ye have touched Him ? ye have seen Him share in mortal
labours, mortal woes, and mortal needs, ye have proved Him
made of perishable fleshy stuff that ye can torture and destroy ?
O poor dim-sighted fools ! Lo, ye have done the brarcsfc
I 14*
162 BARABBAS
and most wondrous deed that ever was inscribed in history,
ye have crucified a Divine Appearance ye have gloated over
the seeming death of the Deathless ! A God was with us,
wearing apparent mortal vesture, but those who saw the suffer-
ing Man and Man alone, did only think they saw ! I looked
beyond, I, Pilate, I beheld" Here he broke off with a
smothered exclamation, his eyes fixing themselves alarmedly
upon the outer garden bathed in the full glory of the moon.
" Justitia ! Justitia!" he cried.
She sprang to him, and he caught her convulsively in his
arms, drawing her head down against his bosom and straining
her to his heart with passionate violence.
" Hush I hush 1" he murmured, " Let us not weep, the
thing is done, remorse will not avail. Accursed Jews ! they
forced my hand, they, with their devilish priest, did slay the
Man, not I. ' Ecce Homo /' I cried to them, I sought to
make them see even as I saw, the glory, the terror, and the
wonder, the radiance of that seeming-human Form, so fine
and marvellous, that methought it would have vanished into
ether 1 Even as the lightning did He shine ! His flesh was
but a garment, transparent as a mist through which one sees
the sun ! Nevertheless, let us not weep despairingly, tears
are but foolish for He is not dead He could not die, although
He hath been crucified. He hath the secret clue of death ; -
'tis a mystery unfathomable, for what the gods may mean
by this we know not, and what the world hath done we
know not, howbeit let the world look to it for we are not to
blame !" He paused, caressing with a sort of fierce tenderness
the dark ripples of his wife's luxuriant hair. " My love !" he
said pityingly " My poor tired anxious heart 1 No more
tears, Justitia, I pray thee, we will forget this day, for truly
it concerns us not, 'tis the Jews' work, let the Jews answer
for it for I will not, neither to Caxsar nor to God ! I have
said and still will say I am innocent of the blood of this Just
Man !"
Here, loosening his arms suddenly from around his wife, he
raised them with a proud and dignified gesture of protest,
then turning suddenly, and perceiving Joseph of Arimathea
where he stood apart, a silent and troubled spectator of tha
scene, he advanced towards him, and said gently
" Friend, what seekest thou of me?"
The Arimathean cast a despairing glance of appeal at
Justitia, who, hastily dashing away the tears on her cheeks and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 163
mastering the emotion that betrayed itself in her pale and
sorrowful countenance, came to his rescue.
" Dear lord, hast thou forgotten ?" she said gently, as with
a guiding movement of her hand she persuaded Pilate to resume
his seat upon the couch near the open window " Thou art not
well, and the harassments of thy work have over-wearied thee.
This man doth seek the body of the ' Nazarene' for burial,
himself he charges with the duties of this office if thou wilt
give him thy permit, grant him his boon I do beseech thee,
and let him go his way, for thou must rest again and sleep
thou hast been sorely tried."
Pilate sank heavily among his cushions, looking blankly
into nothingness.
" Thou would'st bury the Christ ?" he asked at last, speak,
ing with difficulty as though his tongue were stiff and refused
utterance.
" Such is my one desire, my lord" answered Joseph, hope-
fully now, for Pilate seemed more capable of reason.
" In thine own sepulchre?"
"Even there."
<; 'Tis large ? Will't hold embodied Light and Life and yet
not rive asunder?"
" My lord !" faltered the Arimathean in dismay and fear.
Justitia slipped one arm around her husband's neck and said
something to him in a soothing whisper. Pilate smiled some-
what piteously, and drawing her hand down to his lips kissed it.
" This gentle lady, my wife, good sir, tells me that my
thoughts wander and that I fail to give thee fitting answer. I
crave thy pardon, counsellor, thou art a counsellor it seems,
and therefore no doubt hast patience with the erring and wisdom
for the weak. Thou would'st ensepulchre the ' Nazarene ?'
the body of the Crucified thou would'st number with dead
men ? why then, even so let it be ! take thou possession of
That which thou dost deem a corpse of common clay, thou
hast my leave to honourably inter the same. My leave !"
and he laughed wildly " My leave to shut within the tomb
That which no tomb can hold, no closebarred cave can keep,
no time destroy ! Go ! do as thou wilt, do all thou wilt !
thou hast thy boon !"
Believed from his suspense, and full of gratitude, the Ari-
mathean bowed profoundly to the ground, and was about to
retire, when a great noise of disputation was heard in the outer
vestibule. Justitia started up from her husband's side in
164 BARABBAS
wondering indignation and was on the point of going forth to
inquire the cause of such unseemly disturbance when the door
of the apartment was furiously flung open, and the high-priest
Caiaphas burst in, his glistening sacerdotal garments disordered
and trailing behind him, and his face livid with passion.
" Thou art a traitor, Pilate I" he exclaimed " Already dost
thou scheme with tricksters for the pretended resurrection
of the ' Nazarene' 1"
CHAPTER XXVI.
PILATE rose slowly up and confronted him, Justitia at his
side. He was now perfectly calm, and his pale features assumed
a cold and repellent dignity.
" Whom callest thou traitor, thou subject of Rome ?" he
gald " K newest thou not that though thou art high-priest of
the Jewish faith, thou art answerable to Caesar for insult to his
officer?"
Caiaphas stood breathless and trembling with rage.
" Thou also art answerable to Csesar if thou dost lend thy-
self to low imposture !" he said " Dost thou not remember
that this vile deceiver out of Galilee who hath been crucified,
did say ' After three days I will rise again f And do I
not find thee giving audience to one of His known followers
who oft hath entertained Him and listened to His doctrines?
This counsellor" and he emphasised the term sarcastically,
eyeing the unmoved and stately figure of Joseph of Arimathea
up and down angrily " now seeks His body to bury it in a
sepulchre, whereof he only hath the seal and secret. And
why doth he offer this free service ? That he may steal the
corpse in the silence of the second night, and make away with
it, and then give out a rumour that the Christ is risen 1 So
shall the last error be worse than the Jirst with the silly multi-
tude, if his scheme be not prevented."
Joseph lifted his clear grave eyes and looked full at the
speaker.
" I heed not thy wicked accusation, Caiaphas," he said
tranquilly "Thou knowest it is false, and born from out the
fury and suspicion of thy mind. Thy fears do make a coward
of thee, perchance when thou didst find the veil of the
Temple rent in the midst this day, and knewest'by inquiry
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 165
that so it had been torn at the very moment of the passing of
the soul of the ' Nazarene,' thou wert shaken with strange
terrors that still do haunt and trouble tb.be. Rally thyself
and be ashamed, for none shall steal the body I have claimed
from Pilate. rest for the dead is granted even by the most
unmerciful, and this rest is mine to give to one who whether
human or divine, was innocent of sin and died through treach-
ery undeservedly."
The blood rushed to the high-priest's brows, and he clenched
his hands in an effort to keep down his vising wrath.
"Hearest thou that, Pilate?" he exclaimed "Sufferest
thou this insolence?"
" What insolence ?" asked Justitia suddenly " 'Tis true the
Man of Nazareth had no fault in Him at all and that ye slew
Him out of fear !"
Caiaphas glared at her, his cold eyes sparkling with rage.
" I argue not with women !" he said through his set teeth
" They are not in our counsels, nor have they any right to
judgment."
Justitia smiled. Her full black eyes met his piercing shal-
low ones with such immeasurable scorn as made him for the
moment tremble. Avoiding her glance, he addressed himself
once more to Pilate
" Hear me, thou governor of Judasa under Caesar" he
said " And weigh thou this matter well lest thou unheedfully
fall beneath the weight of the Imperial displeasure. Thy
Iloman soldiery are stricken with some strange disease and
speak as with the milky mouths of babes, concerning mercy 1
'tis marvellous to note yon bearded men seized with effemi-
nate virtue 1 Wherefore, out of this sudden craze of mercy
they have spared to break the limbs of the blasphemous ' Naza-
rene,' proffering for excuse that He is dead already. What
matter! I would have had every joint within His body
wrenched apart ! yea, I would have had His very flesh hewn
into pieces after death, if I had had my way 1" He paused,
quivering with passion and breathing heavily. Pilate looked
at him with immovable intentness. " Thy centurion is at
fault" he continued " for he it is who hath, upon his own
authority, given the corpse unto the women who besought it
of him, and they make such a weeping and a lamentation as
might rouse the multitude an' 'twere not that the hour is
late, and night has fully fallen. And with them is that evil
woman of the town, the Magdalen, who doth defy us to remove
166 BARABBAS
the body and place it as it should be, with the other malefac-
tors, saying that this man" and he indicated by a disdainful
gesture the Arimathean counsellor, " hath sought thy leave
to lay it in his own new tomb with honour. Honour for a
trickster and blasphemer ! If thou dost grant him this permit,
I swear unto thee, Pilate, thou dost lend thyself unto a scheme
of deep-laid cunning treachery!"
Still Pilate eyed him with the same fixed stedfastness.
" My centurion, thou sayest, is at fault" he observed pres
ently in cold meditative accents " What centurion ?"
"Petronius, even he who was in charge. I made him
accompany me hither. He waits without."
" Call him, Justitia," said Pilate, seating himself upon his
couch and assuming an attitude of ceremonious dignity and
reserve.
Justitia obeyed, and in answer to her summons, the centu-
rion entered, saluted and stood silent.
"The 'Nazarene' is dead?" said Pilate addressing him in
the measured tones of judicial inquiry.
" Sir, He hath been dead these two hours and more."
"Thou art not herein deceived?" and Pikte smiled
strangely as he put the question.
Petronius stared in respectful amazement.
" My lord, we all beheld him die, and one of us did pierce
His side to hasten dissolution."
" Why did'st thou practise mercy thus ?"
A troubled look clouded the soldier's honest face.
" Sir, there have been many terrors both in earth aud air
this day, and He seemed a sinless man and of a marvellous
courage."
Pilate turned towards Caiaphas. " Seest thou the reason of
this matter?" he said "This Petronius is a Roman, and 'tis
in Roman blood to give some reverence to courage. Your Jew
is no respecter of heroic virtues, an' he were, he would not
need to pay tribute unto Caesar I"
The high-priest gave a scornful, half-derisive gesture.
"The very man now crucified, whose heroism thy soldier
doth admire, was a Jew," he said.
" Not altogether," interposed Joseph of Arimathea suddenly
-r-" Mary, His mother, was of Egypt."
n u j
Laiapnas sneered.
" And Joseph his father was of Nazareth," he said" And
V the father is, so i= the son."
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 167
At these words a singular silence fell upon the group. Jus-
titia grew deadly pale, and leaned on the corner of her hus-
band's couch for support, her breath came and went hur-
riedly and she laid one hand upon her bosom as though to still
some teasing pain. Pilate half rose, there was a strange light
in his eyes and he seemed about to speak, but apparently on
consideration altering his intention he sat down again, turning
so wild a gaze upon Petronius that that officer was both dis-
mayed and startled.
" Thou hast done well" he said at last, breaking the op-
pressive stillness by an evident effort, "Mercy doth well be-
come a stalwart Roman, strong in brute strength as thou art.
I blame thee not in aught. And thou, great Caiaphas" here
he fixed his eyes full on the high-priest, " dost nobly practise
sentiments which best befit thy calling, revenge, bloodthirsti-
ness and fear ! Peace ! snatch not the words from out my
mouth by thy unseemly rage of interruption, I know the
terror that thou hast of even the dead body of Him that thou
hast slain, but thou art too late in thy desire to carry cruelty
beyond the grave. The Arimathean counsellor hath my per-
mit to bury the ' Nazarene' in honour even as he doth desire,
in his own sepulchre newly hewn. But if thou dost suspect
his good intent, and thinkest there is treachery in his honest
service, seal thou the tomb thyself with thine own mark, and
set a watch of as many as thou wilt, picked men and cautious,
to guard the sepulchre till the third day be past. Thus shall
all sides have justice, thou, Joseph, and thou, Caiaphas,
and inasmuch as this Petronius showeth too much mercy, thou
can'st choose another centurion than he to head thy band.
More I cannot do to satisfy demand" here he broke off with
a shuddering sigh of weariness.
" 'Tis enough" said Caiaphas sullenly "Nevertheless,
Pilate, had'st thou been wise, thou would'st have refused the
malefactor's body to this counsellor."
And he darted an angry and suspicious glance at the Ari-
mathean who returned his look steadily.
"Hast urged enough against me, Caiaphas?" he said
" Verily, were it not for my race and lineage, I would take
shame unto myself this day that I am born a Jew, hearing
thee vent such paltry rage and puny fear, and thou the high-
priest of the Temple ! But I will not bandy words with thee ;
I do most readily accept the judgment of our excellent lord
the governor, and herewith invite thee to be witness of the
168 BARABBAS
burial of the ' Nazarene.' Thou can'st examine the sepulchre
within and without to make thyself sure there is no secret pas-
sage to serve for thy suspected robbers of the dead. Bring
thou thy seals of office, and set a watch both night and day,
I give thee promise that I will not hinder thee."
Caiaphas bent his head in stiff and haughty acknowledgment,
and turned on his heel to leave the apartment, then glancing
over his shoulder at the pensive and drooping figure of Pilate
he said with forced pleasantness
" I wish thee better health, Pilate !"
" I thank thee, priest" responded Pilate without looking up
" I wish thee better courage !"
With an indifferent nod, Caiaphas was about to leave the
room, when seeing that Petronius the centurion had just saluted
the governor and was also departing he stopped him by a
gesture.
"Did'st thou inquire as I bade thee, concerning young
Iscariot?"
" Sir," answered Petronius gravely " 'tis rumoured in the
city that Iscariot is dead."
" Dead !" Caiaphas clutched at him to steady himself, for
everything seemed suddenly reeling, then he repeated again
in a hoarse whisper " Dead !' '
For a moment the air around him grew black, and when he
recovered his sickening senses, he saw that Pilate had risen and
had come forward with his wife clinging to him, and that both
were looking at him in undisguised astonishment, while Joseph
of Arimathea was shaking him by the arm.
"What ails thee, Caiaphas?" asked the counsellor, " Why
art thou thus stricken suddenly?"
" 'Tis naught 'tis naught !" and the proud priest drew him-
self up erect, the while his eyes wandered to the face of the
centurion once more, " Thou did'st say" and he spoke with
hesitation and difficulty " that 'tis rumoured Judas is dead ?
Surely 'tis false, how could he die ?"
" Sir, he hath slain himself, so runs the people's whisper."
Caiaphas pressed one hand over bis eyes to shut out the
specks of red that swam before his sight like drops of blood.
Then he looked round him with feigned composure his coun-
tenance was very pale.
"See you" he said unsteadily "It can but move me to
think that yesterday Judas was well and full of life, and that
to-day he should be dead 1 A foolish youth, of wild and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 169
erring impulse, but nevertheless much beloved by his father
and his sister Judith" Here he broke off with a fierce ex-
clamation of mingled wrath and pain and seizing the Arima-
thean by the arm, he cried boisterously
" Come, thou subtle and righteous counsellor ! On with me,
and open thou thy rocky cave of death that we may thrust
within it the cause of all this mischief! Farewell, Pilate!
take health upon thee speedily and my blessing ! for thou
hast done justice in this matter, albeit late and forced from
thee 1 And by thy legal sanction, I will set such a watch
around the dead blasphemer's sepulchre as hath not been ex-
celled in vigilance or guardianship for any treasure of the
world ! his prophecy shall prove a lie ! ' After three days' !
. . . nay ! not after a thousand and three ! Let thunders
crash, earth yawn and mountains split asunder, the ' Nazarene'
shall never rise again !"
And with a wild gesture of defiance he rushed from the
room, dragging the Arimathean with him and followed by
Petrouius in a state of wonderment and fear.
CHAPTER XXVII.
PILATE and his wife remained standing where they were for
a moment, looking at each other in silence. The mingled light
of the flickering lamps around them, and the moonbeams pour-
ing in through the open window gave a spectral pallor to their
faces, which in absorbed expression reflected the same trouble,
the same perplexed unquiet thought. After a pause, Pilate
turned and moved feebly back to his couch, Justitia following
him.
" Oh, to escape this terror !" he murmured, as he sank
among his pillows once more and closed his eyes " 'Tis every-
where, 'tis upon Caiaphas even as it is upon us all ! A terror
of the unknown, the undeclared, the invisible, the deathless !
What hath been done this day we cannot comprehend, we can
but feel a mystery in the air, and we grope blindly, seeing
nothing touching nothing and therefore doubting every-
thing, but nevertheless afraid ! Afraid of what ? Of our-
pelves ? Nay, for we have killed the Man who did so much
H 15
170 BARABBAS
amaze us. What more then ? Why, no more, since He is
dead. And being dead, what cause is there for fear?"
He sighed heavily. Justitia knelt beside him.
" Dear, my lord" she began softly, her voice trembling a
little. He turned his head towards her.
" What would'st thou say, Justitia ?" he asked gently
" Methinks my moods do trouble thee, thou most beloved of
women, I fain would be more cheerful for thy sake. But
there is a darkness on my spirit that not even thy love can lift,
thou hast wept also, for I see the tears within thine eyes.
Why art thou moved to weakness, thou strong heart ? what
would they say of thee in Rome, thou who art adjudged a
very queen of pride, if they beheld thee now ?"
Justitia answered not, for all at once her head drooped
upon her husband's breast, and clinging to him close, she gave
way to a sudden paroxysm of passionate weeping. Pilate held
her to him, soothing her with trembling touch and whispered
words, now and again lifting his eyes to look with a kind of
apprehension and expectancy round the silent room as though
he thought some one besides themselves witnessed their actions.
After a while when the violence of her sobbing ceased, he said
" Tell me, Justitia tell me all that troubles thee. Some
secret grief thou hast kept pent up within thee through the
day, aud what with storm and earthquake and darkness and
thy fears for me, thou hast brooded on sorrow dumbly, as women
often do when they have none to love them. But I who
love thee more than life, Justitia, have the right to share thy
heaviness, I am strong enough or should be strong, look
up!" and he raised her tearful face between his hands and
gazed at her tenderly "Unburden thy soul, Justitia! . . .
tell me thy dream !"
With a cry she sprang erect, pushing back her ruffled hair
from her brows aud gazing out into the moonlit garden with
a strange expression of alarm and awe.
" No, no !" she whispered " I cannot, I dare not ! 'Tis
dark with the terror thou hast spoken of, a portent and a
mystery ; it brings no comfort, and thou can'et not bear to
hear more evil omens of disaster"
She broke off, adding presently in the same hushed accents,
" Did'st thou understand, Pontius, when Petronius spoke,
that Iscariot was dead ?"
'I Surely I understood" responded Pilate" What marvel
in it? 'Twas he that did betray his Master to the priests.
A DREAM OF THE WORLDS TRAGEDY 171
He dared not testify of this his treachery, and when I asked
for him at this morning's trial, he could not be found. Out
of remorse he slew himself, or so I judge a fitting death
for such a traitor. Thou dost not grieve for him ?"
"I knew him not" said Justitia thoughtfully "else
perchance if I had known I might have pitied b'm. But
Judith loved him."
Pilate moved impatiently among his cushions.
" Much do I marvel at thy interest in that most haughty
and most forward maiden" he said " That she is beautiful
I grant, but vanity doth make her beauty valueless. How
earnest thou to choose her as a friend ?"
" She is no friend of mine," Justitia answered slowly, still
looking out at the clear night li Save that she has been long
left motherless, and is unguided and undisciplined, wherefore
I have counselled her at times, though truly my counsels
are but wasted words, and she hath evil rooted in her soul.
Nevertheless believe me, Pontius, now will her vanity have
end, for if she hath a heart, that heart will break to-night 1"
Her husband made no reply, and a long silence fell between
them. During this pause, a sound of joyous singing reached
them, a party of young men and maidens were strolling
homeward from some festive meeting, thrumming on stringed
instruments and carolling as they went. Over the wall of
Pilate's enclosed garden their figures could be seen passing
along the open street beyond and occasional scraps of their
conversation echoed distinctly through the air.
" Ephra, dost thou remember last week," said a man's voice
" when the crowd went out to meet the ' Nazarene* who died
to-day ? Can'st recall the wild tune they sang ? 'twas passing
sweet and ended thus, ' Hosanna !' "
In a high pure tenor he sent the word pealing through the
evening stillness, his companions caught it up and chorussed
all together
"Hosanna ! Hosanna '.
Hosanna in the Highest I
Blessed is he that cometh,
That cometh in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the Highest !"
The stirring triumph and grandeur of the melody seemed
to terrify Justitia, for she caught at the heavy curtain that
172 BARABBAS
partially draped the window and held it clenched in her hand
convulsively as though for support, her whole frame trembling
with some inward excitement. Suddenly the singing stopped,
broken by laughter, and another voice cried out jestingly,
" Beware the priests ! An' we raise such a chant as this we
shall all be crucified 1"
They laughed again, and sauntering on, passed out of sight
and hearing.
Justitia dropped the curtain from her grasp, and shivered as
with deadly cold. Pilate watched her anxiously as she came
slowly towards him step by step and sat down on a low bench
close to his couch, clasping her hands together in her lap and
looking straight before her vaguely into empty air.
" Even so was the music in my dream' ' she murmured
" Methought the very dead did rise and sing ' Hosanna !' "
Pilate said nothing, he seemed afraid to disturb the current
of her thoughts. Presently raising her eyes to hid, she
asked
" Dost thou in very truth desire to hear ? Or will it weary
thee?"
" Nay, it will comfort me" he answered, taking one of her
listless hands and pressing it to his lips " If any comfort I
can have 'twill be in sharing whatever sorrow troubles thee.
Speak on, and tell me all, for from the very moment thou
did'st send to me this morning at the Tribunal, my soul has
been perplexed with wondering at this act of thine, so unlike
thee at any time."
Justitia sighed.
" Ay, it was unlike me, and ever since, I have been most
unlike myself. Thou knowest 'twas a morning dream, for
night was past, and thou had'st but lately left me to take thy
place within the Hall of Judgment. I had arisen from my
bed, but as yet I had not called my women, and partially
arrayed, I sat before my mirror, slowly binding up my hair.
My eyes were strangely heavy and my thoughts confused,
and suddenly the polished surface of the metal into which I
gazed grew black, even as a clear sky darkening with storm.
Then came a noise as of many waters thundering in my ears,
and after that I know not what did chance to me. Never-
theless it seemed I was awake, and wandering solitary within
some quiet region of eternal shade."
She paused, trembling a little, then went on.
"A solemn depth of peace it seemed to be, wherein was
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 173
neither landscape, light nor air. Methought I stood upon a
rift of rock gazing far downward, and there before mine eyes
were laid millions on millions of the dead, dead men and
women white as parchment or bleached bone. Side by side in
wondrous state they lay, and over them all brooded a pale
shadow as of outspread wings. And as I looked upon them all
and marvelled at their endless numbers, a rush of music sounded
like great harps swung in the wind, and far away a Voice
thundered ' Hosanna !' And lo ! the pale shadow of wings
above the dead, furled up and vanished, and through some un-
seen portal came a blazing Cross of Light, and after it, white
as a summer cloud and glorious as the sun, followed the
' Nazarene' ! ' Awake, ye dead !' He cried ' Awake, for
Death is ended 1 Awake and pass from hence to Life 1' And
they awoke ! yea, they awoke in all the plenitude of strength
and wondrous beauty, those millions upon millions of long-per-
ished mortals, they uprose in radiant ranks like flowers break-
ing into bloom, adorned with rays of light they stood, great
angels every one, and cried aloud ' Glory to Thee, O Christ,
Thou Messenger of God ! Glory to Thee, Thou holy Pardoner
of our sinsl Thou Giver of Eternal Life! Glory to Thee,
Redeemer of the world ! we praise and worship Thee for ever 1'
Then was my dreaming spirit seized with shuddering and fear,
I turned away mine eyes unable to endure the dazzling lumi-
nance and wonder, and when I looked again, the scene was
changed."
Here Justitia broke off, and leaning closer to her husband,
caught both his hands in hers, and gazed earnestly into his
face.
" Thinkest thou not," she whispered " that this vision was
strange ? Why should it come to me ? I who ever doubted
all gods, and have in my soul accepted death as each man's
final end ? 'Tis a thought most unwelcome to me, that the
dead should rise 1"
Pilate met her eyes with a wistful woe and sympathy in hia
own.
" Yea, 'tis unwelcome" he said " I would not live again
had I the choice. For we do things in this our life 'twere
best not to remember, and having sinned, one's only rescue
is to die, die utterly and so forget we ever were. Yet per-
chance there is no forgetfulness, there may be an eternal
part within us," he stopped, gazing around him nervously
18 Hast thou no more to tell ? this was not all thy dream ?"
15*
174 B ARABS AS
" All no !" cried Justitia rising from her seat with an un-
conscious gesture of desperation " Would that it were ! For
what remains is naught but horror, horror and mystery and
pain. 'Tis what I further saw within my vision that made me
send my message in such haste to thee, I thought I might
avert misfortune and ward off evil from thy path, my husband,
for if dreams have any truth, which I pray they have not,
thou art surely threatened with some nameless doom 1"
Pilate looked up at her troubled face and smiled forcedly.
" Fear not for me, Justitia" he said " Trust me there is
no other doom save death, and that doth hourly threaten every
man. I marvel at thy tremors, thou who art wontedly of so
bold a spirit I Rally thy usual courage ! surely I shall not
die of hearing of disaster in a dream 1 Speak on ! what else
did'st thou behold ?"
" I beheld a mighty ocean" replied Justitia raising one
hand solemnly as she spoke " And this ocean was of human
blood and covered all the earth ! And methought that every
drop within that scarlet sea did have a voice of mingled tears
and triumph, that cried aloud ' Hail, Jesus of Nazareth, Son
of the God Eternal!' Then on the ghastly waves there
floated, even as floats a ship, a wondrous temple, gleaming with
gold and precious stones, and on the summit of its loftiest pin-
nacle a jewelled Cross did shine. And in my dream I under-
stood that all the kings and emperors and counsellors of the
world had reared this stately fabric to the memory and the
worship of the ' Nazarene' 1"
" To the memory and the worship of the ' Nazarene' !"
repeated Pilate slowly " A temple floating on a sea of blood J
well, what then ?"
" Then," went on Justitia, her dark eyes dilating as she grew
more and more absorbed in her narration " then I saw the
heavens rent asunder, and many wondrous faces, beautiful and
wise but sorrowful, looked down. And from the waves of
blood arose wild sounds of lamentation and despair, and as I
listened I comprehended that the lofty floating temple I beheld
was crushing underneath it the struggling souls of men.
' How long, O Lord 1 how long !' they cried, and ' Save,
Lord, or we perish !' Then came a great and terrible noise as
of martial music mixed with thunder, and lo ! a mighty Sword
fell straight from Heaven, and smote the temple in the midst
BO that it parted in twain and drifted on the crimson flood a
wreck, and even as it split, I saw the secret of its wickedness,
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 175
an 'altar splashed with blood and strewn with dead men's
boaes and overflowing in every part with bags of gold ill-
gotten, and confronting it in lewdest mockery of worship
with lies upon his lips and coin grasped in both his hands
there knelt a leering Devil in a Priest's disguise !"
She paused, breathing quickly in a kind of suppressed ex-
citement then continued,
" Now, as I watched the sundered halves of the smitten
temple, drifting to right and left and circling round about to
sink, a wrathful voice exclaimed, ' Many shall call upon Me
saying, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name, and
in thy name done many wonderful works f A nd I will say
unto them Depart from Me, I never knew ye, ye worJcers of
iniquity /' And even as the voice sounded, the temple sank,
and naught was left of it but the topmost Cross, floating alone
upon the sea !"
" Always the Cross !" murmured Pilate perplexedly " Doth
it threaten to become a symbol ?"
" I know not," answered Justitia with a far-off dreamy ex-
pression in her face " 'twas ever present in my dream. And
now to hear the end, methought I watched the lonely Cross
tossed by itself upon the sea, and wondered whether like the
temple it had once adorned 'twould also sink. To and fro it
floated, shining like a star, and presently I saw that wherever
it rested for a space, it changed the waves of blood to a light
like liquid fire. Then happened a strange marvel ; out of
the far distance came a ship, sailing straightly and with speed,
'twas small and light and white as foam, and within it, steer-
ing boldly onward, sat a woman alone. And as her vessel
sped across the dreadful sea, great monsters of the deep arose
and threatened her, the pallid hands of drowned men clutched
at her, noises there were of earthquake and of thunder,
nevertheless she sailed on fearlessly, and as she journeyed,
smiled, and sang. And I beheld her course with wonderment,
for she was steering steadily towards the Cross that floated lost
upon the waves. Nearer she came, and soon she reached it,
and leaning from her vessel's edge, she caught it in both hands
and raised it up towards heaven. ' Jesus, thou Messenger of
God 1' she cried ' Through thy great Love we claim eternal
Glory !' And with the swiftness of lightning she was an-
swered ! the sea of blood was changed to living flame, her
ship became a cloud of light and she herself an angel clad in
wings, and from the Cross she held streamed such a splendour
170 BARABBAS
fts illumined all the heavens ! And with thunder and with
music and rejoicing, the gateways of the air, methought, were
opened, and with a thousand thousand winged creatures round
Him and above Him, and a new world rising like the morning
eun behind Him, again, again I saw the ' Nazarene' I And
with a voice of silver-sweet and overwhelming triumph He
proclaimed ' Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My words
shall not pass away /' "
She waited a moment, then went on
" The ' Nazarene' ! no other than the ' Nazarene' it was
whom I beheld thus gloriously surrounded ! the very ' Naza-
rene' whom thou, Pontius, wert asked to judge and to con-
demn ! No marvel was it that I sent to thee, and in my scroll
I would have told thee I had dreamt He was a god, but that I
feared some other eye than thine might intercept and scan my
words. Therefore I wrote ' have naught to do with that just
man,' alas ! 'twas foolish of me ! thou could'st not listen to
a woman's pleading in a matter of the law, and when my slave
returned I knew mine errand had been fruitless. Nevertheless
I strove to warn thee"
" Of what ?" asked Pilate hoarsely, he had covered his
eyes with his hand, and spoke with difficulty " Of naught,
save that being just 'twere a pity He should die. But knowest
thou not 'tis ever the just who are condemned? And that
thou did'st suffer in a dream was better than my case ; what
I saw and what I suffered was no dream !"
He sighed bitterly, heavily, and Justitia sitting down beside
him, leaned her head upon his shoulder.
" I have not yet told thee all" she said in a trembling
voice, " The rest concerns thy fate !"
Pilate removed his hand from his eyes and looked round
at her.
"My fate!" he echoed indifferently " Whate'er it be,
surely I shall have force enough to meet it 1"
She held his hands in both her own and pressed them con-
vulsively.
" Ay, full well I know thou hast force enough for anything"
she said " else thou would'st not be Roman. But to perish
even as Iscariot"
He started away from her.
" As Iscariot 1" he cried indignantly " Nay, I am no
traitor !"
She looked at him, her face growing very white and her lipa
A DREAM OF TEE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 177
trembling. She was evidently nerving herself to utter some-
thing which she feared would be unwelcome.
" The gods might call thee coward, Pontius !" she said at
last faintly, and as though the words were wrested out of her.
He turned upon her in astonishment and wrath.
" What did'st thou say, Justitia ?" he demanded fiercely
" Surely I have not heard thee aright ? thou did'st not dare
speak such a word to me as ' coward' ?"
Her heart beat violently, but she kept her eyes fixed upon
him tenderly and without any visible sign of fear.
" If thou did'st see supernal glory in the ' Nazarene' " she
faltered slowly, and then paused, leaving her sentence un-
finished.
Pilate's head drooped, he shrank and shivered as though
some invisible hand had struck him with a heavy blow.
"Go on," he said unsteadily "Albeit I know, I know
now what thou would'st say."
" If thou did'st see supernal glory in the ' Nazarene,' " she
repeated in firmer accents " if thou didst recognise the God
behind the Man, ay, even to swoon thereat, surely thou
should'st have openly proclaimed this truth unto the priests
and people."
" They would not have believed me" he answered her in a
husky whisper, " They would have deemed me mad, unfit
to rule"
" What matter ?" said Justitia dauntlessly, " What are the
beliefs of priests or people measured against the utterance of a
Truth ? If thou had'st spoken"
" I tell thee they would have called me crazed" said Pilate,
rising and pacing the room agitatedly " They would have told
me that my vision was deceived, that my brain wandered.
How could'st thou ever persuade a callous crowd of the exist-
ence of the supernatural ?"
" How do they persuade themselves?" demanded Justitia
" These very Jews do swear by supernatural shows that seem
impossible. Do they not say that God Himself taught Moses
the Commandments on Mount Sinai? will they not even
accept as truth that their most vengeful Jehovah hath oft
condoned murder as a holy sacrifice, as in the story of their
own judge Jephthah, who slew his innocent daughter to satisfy
the horrible bloodthirstiness of Heaven 1 Why should the
supernatural seem less to be believed in one phase of existence
than another?"
178 BARABBAS
tl I know not !" answered Pilate still walking to and fro
distressfully, "Make me not answerable for the inconsist-
encies of man ! I did my belt and utmost with the people,
if I had told them what I saw they would have dragged
me from the judgment-seat as one possessed of devils and
distraught; and Caesar would have stripped me of author-
ity."
"Thou could'st have suffered all loss with equanimity,"
said Justitia thoughtfully "provided thine own conscience
had been clear."
He gave her no response, but still paced restlessly up and
down.
Justitia moved to the window and gazed out at the dark,
smooth velvet-looking foliage of the fig trees at the end of the
garden.
" It was a pale bright light, even like the beaming of this
very moon" she said " that shone upon me in the closing
of my dream. I stood, methought, in one of the strangest,
loneliest, wildest corners of the world, great mountain-peaks
towered around me, white and sparkling with a seeming-bitter
cold, and at my feet a solemn pool lay black and stirless.
And as I looked, I saw thee, Pontius ! I saw thee flitting
even as a spectre among the jagged rocks of those most solitary
hills, thou wert old and wan and weary, and had'st the livid
paleness of approaching death. I called thee, but thou would'st
not answer, onward thou did'st tread, and cam'st so near to
me I could have touched thee ! but ever thou did'st elude my
grasp. All suddenly" and here she turned towards her hus-
band, her eyes darkening with her thoughts " I beheld thee,
drifting like a cloud blown by the wind, towards a jutting
peak that bent above that dreary pool of waveless waters
there thou did'st pause, and with a cry that pierced my soul,
thou did'st exclaim ' Jesus of Nazareth, thou Son of God,
have mercy on me !' Then, ere I could bid thee turn
and wait for me, thou did'st plunge forward, forward and
down, down into the chill and darksome lake which closed
even as a grave above thee ! thou wert gone, gone into death
and silence, and I, shrieking upon thy name, awoke !"
" And waking thus in terror thou did'st send to me ?" asked
Pilate gently approaching her where she stood, and encircling
her with his arm.
She bent her head in assent.
" Even then. And later, when my messenger returned
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 179
from thee, I heard the people shout 'Not this man, but Barak*
bas.' Who is Barabbas ?"
" A thief and murderer" said Pilate quickly " But he
hath the popular sympathy. Once he was in the honourable
employ of Shadeen, the Persian jewel-merchant of this city,
and as a reward for trust reposed in him, he stole some priceless
pearls from out a private coffer of his master. Moreover he
was one of a band of revolutionary malcontents, and did stab
to death the Pharisee, G-abrias, out in the open streets. 'Tis
more than eighteen months ago now thou wert visiting thy
friends in Rome, and knewest naught of it. I would have had
Barabbas crucified, nevertheless the people have given him
rescue and full liberty. They celebrate their feast by the
release of a murderer and the slaughter of the Sinless. 'Tis
their chosen way and I am not to blame !"
" Iscariot also served in the house of Shadeen," said Justitia
meditatingly.
" Even so I have heard."
" And thou art not troubled, Pontius, by my dream ?" she
questioned earnestly " Seest thou no omen in its end concern-
ing thee, when I beheld thee perish in the gloom and solitude,
self-slain, even as Iscariot?"
He shuddered a little and forced a faint smile.
" If I am troubled, Justitia, 'tis because thou art, and be-
cause trouble doth vaguely press upon us all to-day. Trust me
the very Jews are not without their fears, seeing that the storm
hath rent their Temple veil, and darkened the land with such
mysterious suddenness. 'Tis enough to shake the spirits of the
boldest, but now perchance evil is past, and by and by the air
will rid itself of all forebodings. Lo, how divinely clear the
sky ! how fair the moon ! 'tis a silver night for the slumber
of the ' Nazarene' 1"
She looked at him with wondering, dilating eyes.
" Speakest thou in sober reason, Pontius ?" she said " Wilt
thou insist upon thy fancy that He is not dead, and that He
cannot die ? Thinkest thou Ho only sleeps ?"
Pilate drew her closer to him.
" Hush, hush !" he said in a low trembling tone " What-
ever I may think I must say nothing. Let us hold our peace,
let us live as the world would have us live, in the proud
assumption that there is nothing in the universe more powerful
or more wonderful than ourselves ! So shall we fit ourselves
for the material side of nature, and if there be in truth,
180 BARABBAS
another side, a spiritual, we can shut our eyes and Bwear we
know naught of it. So shall we be deemed wise, and sane !
and we shall give offence to no one save to God, if a God
perchance there be !"
His voice grew faint his eyes had a vacant stare, he was
looking out and upward to the brilliant sky. Suddenly he
brought his gaze down from the heavens to earth and fixed it
on the open road beyond his garden where a small dark group
of slowly moving figures just then appeared.
" Who goes yonder ?" he said inquiringly " Seest thou,
Justitia, they take the private path towards the house of
Iscariot ? Surely they carry some heavy burden?"
Justitia leaned forward to look, then drew back with a faint
cry.
" Come away, come away 1" she whispered, shivering and
drawing her flowing robes closer about her " Do not wait here
do not watch them, they are bearing home the dead !"
"The dead!" echoed Pilate "Then 'tis the body of
Judas !"
Justitia laid her hand entreatingly against his lips.
" Hush hush ! If it be, as indeed I feel it is, do not speak
of it do not look !" And with agitated impatience she drew
the curtain across the window and shut out the solemn beauty
of the night " I am chilled with horror, Pontius, I can bear
no more ! I would not see dead Judas in my dreams ! Let us
go hence and rest and try to sleep, and, if we can, forget 1"
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THAT same night, before a richly-chased mirror of purely
polished silver, and gazing at her own fair face reflected in it
by the brilliant lustre of the moon, Judith Iscariot sat, lost m
a pleasant reverie. She was alone, she had dismissed her
attendant women, the picture of her perfect loveliness ren-
dered lovelier by the softness of the lunar beams charmed her,
and she would not have so much as a small hand-lamp kindled
lest its wavering flicker should destroy the magical effect of her
beauty mirrored thus and set about with glory by the argent
light of heaven. Leaning back in a low carved chair she
A DREAM. OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 181
clasped her round arms idly behind her head and contemplated
herself critically with a smile. She had cast aside the bright
flame-tinted mantle she had worn all day, and was now arrayed
in white, a straight plain robe of thin and silky texture that
clung about her figure closely, betraying every exquisite curve
and graceful line, her fiery golden hair unbound to its lull
length fell to the very floor in glistening showers, and from
underneath the thick bright ripples of it clustering on her
brow, her dark jewel-like eyes flashed with a mingling of joy
and scorn.
" What cowards, after all, are men !" she murmured half
aloud, "Even the strongest! Yon base Barabbas was nigh
to weeping for the death of the accursed ' Nazarene,' me-
thinks 'twas terror for himself rather than pity for the dying.
And Caiaphas ! who would have thought that he would be
paralysed with fear when they told him of the rending of the
Temple veil !"
She laughed softly, and her lips laughing back at her from
the silver surface into which she gazed, had so bewitching a
sweetness in their smile that she leaned forward to observe
them more intently.
" Verily 'tis no marvel that they dote upon me one and all"
she said, studying her delicate features and dazzling com-
plexion with complacent vanity, " Even smiling so, I draw
the subtle Caiaphas my way, he passeth for a wise priest, yet
if I do but set my eyes upon him thus" and she half closed
them and peered langorously through their sweeping lashes
" he pales and trembles, or thus" and she flashed them fully
open in all their fatal brilliancy " he loses breath for very
love, and gapes upon me, flushed and foolish like one stricken
with the burning of the sun. And Barabbas, I must rid me
of Barabbas, though there is something fierce about him that
I love, albeit he showed but little love for me to-day, shaken
and palsied as he was by cowardice."
She took up a comb and began to pass it slowly through the
shining splendour of her hair. Gradually her face became
more meditative and a slight frown contracted her brows.
" Nevertheless there was a horror in that storm I" she con-
tinued in whispered accents " And even now my heart mis-
gives me strangely, I would that Judas were at home."
She rose up, slim and stately, and stood before her mirror,
the golden weight of half her tresses in one hand. Round
about her the moonlight fell in a glistening halo, touching here
16
182 BARABBAS
and there a jewel on her arm or bosom to a sudden glimmer
of white fire.
"Caiaphas should have told the people what I bade him"
she murmured, " that the tempest was awakened by the evil
sorceries of the ' Nazarene.' He was possessed of devils, and
they did cause the pitchy darkness and the tremor of the earth
that rent the rocks asunder. 'Twas even so, and Caiaphas
should have spoken thus, but he, too, for the moment, lost
judgment through his fears."
Pausing, she twisted her hair mechanically round and round
her fingers.
"What was the magic of the Man of Nazareth?" she
queried, as though making the inquiry of her own reflection
that gazed earnestly back at her from the silver oval surface
she confronted "I could see none save beauty. Beauty He
had undoubtedly, but not such beauty as a woman loves.
'Twas too austere and perfect, too grave and passionless,
albeit He had strange light within His eyes that for a passing
second moved me, even me, to terror ! And then the thunder
came, and then the darkness"
She shivered slightly, then laughed, and glanced up at
the moon that shone, round and full, in at her open case-
ment.
" 'Twas a malignant spell He cast," she said " But now 'tis
ended, and all alarms have ceased. And truly it is well for
us that rle is dead, for such fanatics are dangerous. And now
is Judas undeceived, he knows this prophet whom he called
his Master is no god after all but simply man, and he will
repent him of his wanderings and return to us again. When
his first rage is past, he will come back ashamed and sorrowful,
and seeking pardon for his fury of last night, and we will
welcome him with joy and feasting and forgiveness, and once
more we shall be happy. Yea, surely Caiaphas did advise mo
well, and in the death of the blasphemous ' Nazarene' Judas id
saved from further harm."
She threw back her hair over her shoulders and smiled.
Then opening a massive brass-bound casket near her, she drew
forth a handful of various jewels, and looked at them care-
lessly one by one, selecting at last a star-shaped ornament of
magnificent rubies.
" 'Tis a fair gift" she murmured, holding it up in the
moonlight and watching it flash a dull red in the silver rays
"I know not that I have ever seen a fairer I 'Twas wise
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 183
of Caiaphas not to bestow this on his sickly spouse, 'twould
ill become the pallid skin of the daughter of Annas."
She studied the gems carefully, then diving anew into the
casket brought out a chain of exquisite pearls, each pearl as
large as the ripe seed of Indian maize.
" How well they go together thus !" she said, setting them
with the ruby star against the whiteness of her bare arm
" They should be worn in company, the high-priest's rubies
and the stolen pearls of Barabbas !"
Her lips parted in a little mocking smile, and for a moment
or two she held the gems in her hand, absorbed in thought.
Then, slowly fastening the pearls round her throat, she put
back the ruby pendant into the jewel-coffer, and again peered
at herself in the silver mirror. And as she silently absorbed
the glowing radiance of her own matchless beauty, she raised
her arms with a gesture of irrepressible triumph.
" For such as I am the world is made !" she exclaimed
" For such as I am, emperors and kings madden theni;>elves
and die ! For such as I am proud heroes abase themselves as
slaves. No woman lives who can be fairer than I, and what
shall I do with my fairness when I am weary of sporting
with lovers and fools? I will wed some mighty conqueror
and be the queen and mistress of many nations !"
In her superb vanity, she lifted her head higher as though
she felt the imagined crown already on her brows, and stepped
slowly backward from the mirror, still steadfastly regarding
her own image, when all at once the sound of a hurried foot-
fall in the corridor startled her. She turned in a listening
attitude, her hair falling about her, and the pearls gleaming on
her throat, the hasty footstep came nearer, then paused.
" Madam ! Madam !" cried a voice outside.
Moved by some swift instinct of alarm, she sprang forward
and flung the door of her chamber wide open, thus confronting
one of her father's servants who stared at her wildly, making
dumb signs of despair.
" What is it ?" she gasped, her lips had grown suddenly
BtifF and dry and she could barely articulate, her heart beat
violently, and the pearls about her neck seemed strangling
her.
The man opened his mouth to answer, then stopped,
Judith clutched him by the arm.
" Speak !" she whispered " What evil news hast thou?"
" Madam," faltered the servant trembling " I dare not
184 BARABBAS
utter it, prithee come thy father sends have patience , . .
take comfort"
He turned from her, hiding his face.
" 'Tis Judas I" she exclaimed " He is wounded ? ill ? He
hath returned?"
" Ay, madam, he hath returned !" replied the messenger
hoarsely, and then, as if fearing to trust himself to the utter-
ance of another word, he hastened away, mutely entreating
her to follow.
She paused a moment, a ghastly pallor stole away all the
light and brilliancy of her features, and she pressed one hand
upon her bosom to control its rising fear.
"He hath returned I" she murmured vaguely "Judas is
at home 1 My father sends for me ? then all is well, surely
'tis well, it cannot be otherwise than well."
Giving one glance backward into her moonlit room where
the silver mirror shone like a glistening shield, she began to
move with hesitating step through the corridor, then, all at
once seized by an irresistible panic, she gathered up her trailing
white robes in her hand and ran precipitately towards the great
vestibule of the house, which her father had had built in the
fashion of an Egyptian court, and where he was accustomed to
Bit in the cool of the evening with his intimates and friends.
It was surrounded with square columns and was open to the
night, and as Judith came rushing along, her gold hair flying
about her like flame and her dark eyes wild with uncertain
terror and expectancy, she was confronted by the tall figure of
a man who, with extended arms, strove to intercept himself
between her and some passive object that lay, covered with a
cloth, on the ground a few steps beyond. She gazed at him
amazedly, it was Barabbas.
"Judith!" he faltered " Judith, wait ! Have pa-
tience"
But she pushed him aside and ran towards her father whom
she perceived leaning against one of the carven columns, his
face hidden upon his arm.
"Father !" she cried.
He raised his head and looked at her, his austere fine
features were convulsed by a speechless agony of grief, and
with one trembling hand he pointed silently to the stirless
covered shape that reposed at a little distance from him. Her
eyes followed his gesture, and, staggering forward feebly step
by step, she pushed back her hair from her brows and stared
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDF 185
fixedly at the outline of the thing that was so solemnly inert.
Then the full comprehension of what she saw seemed to burst
in upon her brain, and falling upon her knees she clutched
desperately at the rough cloth which concealed that which she
craved, yet feared to see.
" Judas !" she cried " Judas !"
Her voice broke in a sharp shriek, and she suddenly with-
drew her hands and looked at them in horror, shuddering, as
though they had come in contact with some nameless abomina-
tion. Lifting her eyes she became dimly conscious that others
were around her, that her father had approached, that Ba-
rabbas was gazing at her, and with a bewildered vacant smile
she pointed to the hidden dead.
" Why have ye brought him home thus wrapped from light
and air ?" she demanded in quick jarring accents " It may be
that he sleeps, or hath swooned. Uncover his face !"
No one moved to obey her. The veiled corpse lying black
and stirless in the full light of the moon had something solemnly
forbidding in its aspect. And for one or two minutes a pro-
found and awful stillness reigned, unbroken save by the slow
chime of a bell striking the midnight hour.
Suddenly Judith's voice began again, murmuring in rapid
whispers.
" Judas, Judas !" she said, "waken! 'Tis folly to lie
there and fill me with such terrors, thou art not dead, it is
not possible, thou could'st not die thus suddenly. Only last
night thou earnest here full of a foolish rage against me, and
in thy thoughtless frenzy thou did'st curse me, lo, now thou
must unsay that curse, thou can'st not leave me unforgiven
and unblessed. What have I ever done of harm to thee ? I
did but bid thee prove the treachery of the ' Nazarene.' And
thou hast proved it ; wherefore should'st thou grieve to find
deception at an end ? Rise up, rise up ! if thou art ill 'tis I
will tend thee, waken ! why should'st thou rest sullen thus
and angry still? Surely 'tis I who should be angry at thy
churlishness, for well I know thou hear'st my voice, though
out of some sick humour, as it seems, thou wilt not answer
me!"
And once more her hands hovered hesitatingly in the air, till
apparently nerving herself to a supreme effort, she took trem-
bling hold of the upper part of the pall-like drapery that hid
the corpse from view. Lifting it fearfully, she turned it back,
slowly, slowly, then stared in horrid woudermeut, was that
16*
186 BARABBAS
her brother's face she looked upon ? that fair, strange, pallid
marble mask with those protruding desperate eyes? Such
fixed impenetrable eyes ! they gave her wondering stare for
stare, and as she stooped down close, and closer yet, her warm
red lips went nigh to touch those livid purple ones which were
drawn back tightly just above the teeth in the ghastly sem-
blance of a smile. She stroked the damp and ice-cold brow,
she thrust her fingers in the wild hair, it was most truly Judas
or some dreadful likeness of him that lay there in waxen effigy,
a white and frozen figure of dead youth and beauty, and
yet she could not realise the awful truth of what she saw.
Suddenly her wandering and distrustful gaze fell on his throat,
a rope was round it, twisted in such a knot that where it
pressed the flesh the skin was broken, and the bruised blood,
oozing through, had dried and made a clotted crimson mark as
though some jagged knife had hacked it. Beholding this, she
leapt erect, and tossing her arms distractedly above her head,
gave vent to a piercing scream that drove sharp discord through
the air, and brought the servants of the household running in
with torches in the wildest confusion and alarm. Her lather
caught her in his arms, endeavouring to hold and pacify her,
in vain ! he might as well have striven to repress a whirlwind.
She was transformed into a living breathing fury, and writhed
and twisted in his grasp, a convulsed figure of heart-rending
despair.
" Look you, they have murdered him !" she shrieked
" They have murdered Judas ! he hath been violently slain
by the followers of the * Nazareue' 1 cruel deed ! There
shall be vengeance for it, vengeance deep and bitter, for
Judas had no fault at all save that of honesty. Caiaphas !
Caiaphas ! Where is Caiaphas ? Bid him come hither and
behold this work ! bid him pursue and crucify the murderers !
let us go seek the Roman governor, justice I say ! I will
have justice" Here her shrill voice suddenly sank, and
flinging herself desperately across her brother's body, she tried
with shaking fingers to loosen the terrible death-noose of the
strangling cord.
" Undo this knot" she cried sobbingly " God ! will
none of ye remove this pressure that doth stop his breath ?
Maybe he lives yet ! his eyes have sense and memory in them.
untie this twisted torture, prithee help me, friends, father,
help me"
Even as she spoke, with her fingers plucking at the cord, an
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 187
awful change passed over her face, and snatching her hands
away she looked at them aghast, they were wet with blood.
A strange light kindled in her eyes, a wan smile hovered on
her lips. She held up her stained fingers.
" Lo, he bleeds 1" she said " The life within him rises to
my touch, he is not dead 1"
" He bleeds as dead men oft are wont to bleed at the touch
of their murderers !" said a harsh voice suddenly, " Thou,
Judith, hast brought thy brother to his death, wherefore his
very blood accuses thee 1"
And the rugged figure of Peter advancing, stood out clear in
the moonbeams that fell showering on the open court.
Iscariot, tall and stately, confronted him in wrath and
astonishment.
" Man, how darest thou at such a time thus rave upon my
daughter" he began, then stopped, checked in his speech by
the austere dignity of the disciple's attitude and his regal half-
menacing gesture.
" Back, Jew !" he said " Thou who art not born again of
water or of spirit, but art ever of the tainted blood of Israel
unregenerate, contest no words with me ! Remorse hath made
me strong ! I am that Peter who denied his Master, and out
of sin repented of I snatch authority ! Dispute me not, I
speak not unto thee, but unto her ; she who doth clamour for
swift justice on the murderers of her brother there. Even so
do / cry out for justice ! even so do 1 demand vengeance !
vengeance upon her who drove him to his doom. For Judas
was my friend, and by his own hand was he slain, but in
that desperate deed no soul took part save she who now be-
moans the end that hath been wrought through the tempting
of her serpent subtilty !"
" Hast thou no mercy ?" cried Barabbas in an agony, " Not
even at this hour?"
" Not at this hour nor at any hour !" responded Peter with
fierce triumph lighting up his features, ' God forbid that I
should show any mercy to the wicked !"
" There spoke tbe first purely human Christian !" murmured
a low satirical voice, and the picturesque form of Melchior
shadowed itself against a marble column whitened by the
moon "Verily, Petrus, thou shalt convey to men in a new
form the message of Love Divine !"
But the disciple heeded not these words. He strode forward
to where Judith lay half prone across her brother's corpse, stiH
188 BARABBA9
busying herself with efforts to untie the suicidal noose at the
throat, that was now darkly moist with blood.
"What doest thou there, Judith Iscariot?" he demanded
" Thou can'st never unfasten that hempen necklet, 'tis not
of pearls or sparkling gems such as thy soul loveth, and
Judas himself hath knotted it too closely for easy severance.
Let be, let be, weep and lament for thine own treachery,
for behold a curse shall fall upon thee, never to be lifted from
thy life again!"
She heard, and raising her eyes which were dry and glit-
tering with fever, smiled at him. So wildly beautiful did she
look, that Peter though wrought up to an exaltation of wrath,
was for a moment staggered by the bewildering loveliness of
her perfect face showered round by its wealth of red-gold hair,
and hesitated to pronounce the malediction that hovered on
his lips.
"Never again, never again" she murmured vaguely
" See !" And she showed him her blood-stained fingers " Life
lingers in him yet ! ah, prithee, friend" and she gazed up
at him appealingly " Undo the cruel cord ! if Judas tied
it, ... did' st thou not tell me Judas tied it? . . . how could
that be ?" She paused, a puzzled look knitting her brows,
then a sudden terror began to shake her limbs.
" Father !" she exclaimed.
He hastened to her, and lifting her up, pressed her against
his breast, the tears raining down his face.
" What does it mean ?" she faltered, gazing at him alarm-
edly " Tell me, it is not true, ... it cannot be true,
Judas was ever brave and bold, he did not wreak this vio-
lence upon himself?"
Iscariot strove to answer her, but words failed him, the
wonted calmness of his austerely handsome features was com-
pletely broken up by misery and agitation. She, however,
gazing fully at him, understood at last, and, wrenching her-
self out of his arms, stood for a moment immovable and
ghastly pale, as though suddenly turned to stone. Then,
lifting her incardined hands in the bright moon-rays, she
broke into a discordant peal of delirious laughter.
" terrible Nazarene !" she cried " This is thy work ! Thy
sorceries have triumphed ! thou hast thy victory ! Thou art
avenged in full, thou pitiless treacherous Nazarene 1"
And with a sharp shriek that seemed to stab the stillness
with a wound, she fell forward on the pavement in a swoon, as
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 189
lost to sense and sight as the body of Judas, that with its fixed
wide-open eyes stared blindly outward into nothingness and
smiled.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THEY carried her to her own chamber and left her to the
ministrations of her women, who wept for her as women will
often weep when startled by the news of some tragic event
which does not personally concern them, without feeling any
real sympathy with the actual cause of sorrow. Her haughty
and arrogant disposition had made her but few friends among
her own sex, and her peerless beauty had ever been a source of
ill-will and envy to others less dazzlingly fair. So that the very
maidens who tended her in her fallen pride and bitter heart-
break, though they shed tears for pure nervousness, had little
love in their enforced care, and watched her in her deep swoon
with but casual interest, only whispering vague guesses one to
another as to what would be her possible condition when she
again awoke to consciousness.
Meanwhile her brother's corpse was reverently placed on two
carved and gilded trestles set in an arched recess of the open
court, and draped with broideries of violet and gold. In stern
silence and constrained composure, the unhappy father of the
dead man gave his formal instructions, and fulfilled in every
trifling particular the duties that devolved upon him, and
when all had been done that was demanded of him for the im-
mediate moment, he turned towards those three who had brought
home the body of his son between them, Barabbas, Melchior,
and the disciple Peter.
" Sirs," he said in a low voice broken by emotion " I have
to thank ye for the sorrowful service ye have rendered me,
albeit it hath broken my heart and hath visited upon our house
such mourning as shall never cease. Only one of ye am I in
any sort acquainted with, and that is Barabbas, lately the
prisoner of the law. In former days he hath been welcomed
here and deemed a worthy man and true, and now, despite his
well-proved crimes and shame of punishment, I can but bear
in mind that once he was my son's companion in the house of
El-Shadeen." Here his accents faltered, but he controlled him-
self and went on " Wherefore, excusing not his faults, I yet
190 BAR ABB AS
would say that even as the people have released him, I cannot
visit him with censure, inasmuch as he hath evident pity for
my grief and did appeal for my beloved child against the
mercilessness of this stranger."
Pausing, he turned his eyes upon Peter, who met his gaze
boldly.
" Stranger I truly am from henceforth to the Jews" said
the disciple, " Naught have I in common with their lives,
spent in the filthy worship of Mammon and the ways of usury.
Nevertheless I compassionate thy fate, Iscariot, as I compas-
sionate the fate of any wretched man stricken with woes in-
numerable through his own blindness and unbelief; and as
for mercilessness whereof thou dost accuse me, thou shalt find
the Truth ever as a sword inclement, sharp to cut away all
pleasingly delusive forms. When thou dost speak of thy be-
loved child, thou dost betray the weakness of thy life, for from
thy nest of over-pampering and indulgent love hath risen a
poison snake to sting and slay 1 A woman left unguarded aud
without authority upon her is even as a devil that destroys,
a virgin given liberty of will is soon deflowered. Knowest
thou not thy Judith is a wanton ? and that thy ravening high-
priest Caiaphas hath made of her a viler thing than ever was
the city's Magdalen ? Ah, strike an' thou wilt, Iscariot ! the
truth is on my lips ! tear out my tongue and thou shalt find
the truth still there !"
Speechless with wrath, Iscariot made one fierce stride towards
him with full intent to smite him across the mouth as the only
fitting answer to his accusation, but as he raised his threatening
hand, the straight unquailing look of the now almost infuriate
disciple, struck him with a sudden supernatural awe and he
paused, inert.
" The truth, the truth !" cried Peter, tossing his arms about
" Lo, from henceforth I will clamour for it, rage for it, live
for it, die for it ! Three times have I falsely sworn, and thus
have I taken the full measure of a Lie 1 Its breadth, its depth,
its height, its worth, its meaning, its result, its crushing suffo-
cating weight upon the soul 1 I know its nature 'tis all hell
in a word ! 'tis a ' yea' or ' nay' on which is balanced all eter-
nity I I will no more of it, I will have truth, the truth of
men, the truth of women, no usurer shall be called honest,
fft wanton shall be called chaste, to please the humour of the
/tassing hour! No no I will have none of this but only
truth 1 the truth that is even as a shining naked scimitar in
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 19J
the hand of God, glittering horribly ! I, Peter, will declare
it ! I who did swear a lie three times, will speak the truth
three thousand times in reprisal of my sin ! Weep, rave, tear
thy reverend hairs, unreverent Jew, thou, who as stiffnecked
righteous Pharisee did'st practise cautious virtue and self-
seeking sanctity, and now through unbelief, art left most deso-
late I Would'st stake a world upon thy daughter's honour ?
Fie I 'tis dross ! 'tis common ware, purchaseable for gold and
gewgaws ! Lo, through this dazzling woman-snare born of thy
blood, a God hath perished in Judaea ! His words have been
rejected, His message is despised, His human life hath been
roughly torn from Him by torture. Therefore upon Judaea
shall the curse be wrought through ages following endless ages,
and as the children of the house of Israel do worship gold,
even so shall gold be their damnation ! Like base slaves shall
they toil, for kings and counsellors ; even as brutish beasts
shall they be harnessed to the wheels of work, and drag the
heavier burdens of the State beneath the whip and scourge,
despised and loathed they shall labour for others, in bondage.
Scattered through many lands their tribes shall be, and never-
more shall they be called a nation 1 For ever and for ever
shall the sinless blood of the Messenger of God rest red upon
Judaea ! for ever and for ever from this day, shall Israel be cast
out from the promises of life eternal, a scorn and abomina-
tion in the sight of Heaven !"
He paused, breathless, his hands uplifted as though invoking
doom. His rough cloak fell away from his shoulders in almost
regal folds, displaying his coarse fisherman's dress beneath,
his figure seemed to grow taller and statelier, investing itself
with a kind of mystic splendour in the shining radiance of the
moon. Lifting his eyes to the stars twinkling like so many
points of flame above him, he smiled, a wild and wondering smile.
" But the end is not yet !" he said " There is a new terror
and trembling, that doth threaten the land. For ye have
murdered the Christ without slaying Him ! ye have forced
Him to suffer death, but He is not dead ! To-night He is
buried, shut down in the gloom of the grave, what will ye
do if the great stones laid above Him have no force to keep
Him down ? what if the earth will not hold Him ? what if,
after three days, as He said, He should rise to life again ? I
will aver nothing, I will not again swear falsely, I will shut
my doubts and terrors in mine own soul and say no more, but
think of it, ye unregenerate of Israel, what will ye do in
192 BARABBAS
the hour of trembling if He, whom ye think dead, doth in
very truth arise to life ?"
His voice sank to a whisper, he glanced about him ner-
vously, then, as though seized by some sudden panic, he
covered himself shudderingly up in his mantle so that his face
could hardly be seen, and began to steal away cautiously on
tip-toe.
" Think of it !" he repeated, looking back once at Iscariot
with a wild stare " Perchance He may pardon Judas ! Nay,
I know nothing I will swear nothing, nevertheless 'twill be
a strange world, 'twill be an altogether different, marvellous
world if He should keep His word, and after three days no
more, no less, He should arise again !"
And still moving as one in fear, shrouded in his cloak and
stepping noiselessly, he turned abruptly and disappeared.
Iscariot gazed after him in mingled anger and perplexity.
" Is it some madman ye have brought hither ?" he demanded
" What manner of devil doth possess him?"
" The devil of a late remorse," answered Melchior slowly
" It doth move a man ofttimes to most singular raving, and
doth frequently inspire him to singular deeds. The devil in
this fisherman will move the world !"
"Fisherman?" echoed Iscariot wonderingly "Is he no
more than common ?"
" No more than common," replied Melchior, his eyes
dilating singularly " Common as clay ! Herein will be his
failure and his triumph. The scent of the sea was round him
at his birth, from very boyhood he hath contended with the
raging winds and waters, so shall he yet contend with similarly
warring elements. No kings ever travelled from afar to kneel
before him in his cradle, no Eastern sages proffered gifts to
honour him, no angels sang anthems for him in the sky,
these things were for the ' Nazarene' whom lately he denied,
but whom he now will serve most marvellously I But, for the
present, as the time now goes, he is but Simon Peter, one of
the fisher-folk of Galilee, and lately a companion of thy dead
son, Judas."
A smothered groan escaped Iscariot's lips as his eyes wan-
dered to the extemporised bier on which the corpse of Judas
lay.
" Unhappy boy !" he murmured " No wonder thou wert
fanatic and wild, consorting with such friends as these !"
He went and stood by the covered body, and there, looking
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 193
round towards his visitors with an air of sorrowful and re-
signed dignity, said,
" Ye will not take it ill of me, sirs, that I entreat ye now to
leave me. The grief I have is almost too great to grasp,
my spirit is broken with mourning, and I am very weary. As
for my daughter, thou, Barabbas, needest not that I should
tell thee of the falsity of the slander brought against her by
yon mad disciple of a mad reformer. Thou knowest her,
her innocence, her pride, her spotless virtue, and to the friend
thou hast with thee, thou wilt defend her honour and pure
chastity. Thou nearest me ?"
" I hear thee" answered Barabbas in a choked voice
" And verily my whole heart aches for thee, Iscariot 1"
The elder man looked at him keenly and trembled.
" I thank thee, friend I" he then said quickly " Thou hast
been guilty of heinous crimes, but nevertheless I know thou
hast manliness enough, and wilt, as far as lies within thy
power, defend my child from scurrilous talk, such as this
coarse-tongued Galilean fisherman may set current in the
town." He paused as though he were thinking deeply, then
beckoned Barabbas to approach him more closely. As his
gesture was obeyed, he laid one hand on his son's veiled corpse
and the other on Barabbas's arm.
" Understand me well 1" he said in a fierce hoarse whisper
" If there were a grain of truth in that vile slander, I would
kill Caiaphas ! yea, by this dead body of mine only son I
swear I would slay him before all the people in the very pre-
cincts of the Temple 1"
In that one moment his face was terrible, and the sombre
eyes of Barabbas glittered a swift response to his thought.
'For a brief space the two men looked at each other steadily,
and to Barabbas's excited fancy it seemed as if at the utter-
ance of Iscariot's oath, the body of Judas trembled slightly
underneath its heavy wrappings. One second, and the sudden
flash of furious comprehension that had lighted their dark
features as with fire, passed, and the bereaved father bent his
head in ceremonious salutation.
" Farewell, sirs," he said, bidding Barabbas retreat from
him by a slight commanding sign " What poor thanks a
broken-hearted man can give are yours for bringing home my
dead. I will see ye both again, a few days hence, when
the bitterness of grief is somewhat quelled, when I am
stronger, better fitted for reasonable speech, but now"
I r 17
194 BARABBAS
He waved his hand in dismissal, and drawing his mantle
round him, sat down by his son's corpse, to keep an hour's
melancholy vigil.
Barabbas at once retired with Melchior, only pausing on his
way out to inquire of a passing servant if Judith had recov-
ered from her swoon. He received an answer in the negative,
given with tears and doleful shaking of the head, and with a
heavy heart, he left the house and passed into the moonlit
street. There, after walking a little way, Melchior suddenly
stopped, fixing his jewel-like contemplative eyes upon the
brooding face of his companion.
" Dreamest thou, good ruffian, of the beauty of thy lost
Judith ?" he said " I confess to thee I never saw a fairer
woman ! Even her sorrow doth enhance her loveliness."
Barabbas shuddered.
" Why speak to me now of her beauty ?" he demanded pas-
sionately " Hath it not wrought sufficient havoc ? Think of
the dead Judas !"
" Truly I do think of him" responded Melchior gravely
" All the world will think of him, he will never be forgotten.
Unhappy youth ! for history will make him answerable for
sins that are not all his own. But the chronicles of men are
not the chronicles of God, and even Judas shall have justice
in the end. Meantime" and he smiled darkly " knowest
thou, good Barabbas, I am troubled by a singular presentiment ?
Poverty doth not oppress me, nevertheless I swear unto thee,
I would not in these days stake a penny piece upon the value
of the life of Caiaphas. What thinkest thou ?"
Barabbas stared at him, aghast and breathing quickly. And
for a moment they remained so, gazing full at one another in
the paling radiance of the sinking moon, then walked on
together, homeward, in silence.
CHAPTER XXX.
TOWARDS three o'clock in the dawn of the Jewish Sabbath,
Judith Iscariot awoke from her heavy stupor of merciful un-
consciousness. Opening her eyes, she gazed about her bewil-
deredly, and gradually recognised her surroundings. She was
in her own room, the casement was closed and lamps were burn-
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 195
ing, and at the foot of her couch sat two of her waiting-
women sunk in a profound slumber. Lifting herself cautiously
upon her pillows, she looked at them wonderingly, then
peered round on all sides to see if any others were near. No,
there was no one, only those two maids fast asleep.
Gathering together her disordered garments, and twisting up
her hair in a loose knot, she noiselessly arose and stepping
down from her couch, moved across the room till she faced
her mirror. There she paused and smiled wildly at herself,
how strange her eyes looked 1 ... hut how bright, how
beautiful 1 The pearls Barabbas had given her long ago,
gleamed on her throat, she fingered them mechanically,
poor Barabbas ! certainly he had loved her in days gone by.
But since then many things had happened, wonderful and
confusing things, and now there was only one thing left to
remember, that after long absence and unkind estrangement
Judas was once more at home ! Yes ! Judas was at home,
and she would go and see him and talk to him, and clear
up whatever foolish misunderstanding there had been between
them. Her head swam giddily, and she felt a feebleness in
all her limbs, shudders of icy cold ran through her, followed
by waves of heat that sickened and suffocated her, but she
paid little heed to these sensations, her one desire to see Judas
overpowering all physical uneasiness. She fastened her white
robe more securely about her with a gold-embroidered girdle,
and catching sight of her ornamental dagger where it lay on
a table close by, she attached it to her waist. Then she
glanced anxiously round at her two women, they still slept.
Stepping needfully on tip-toe, she passed easily out of her
room, for the door had been left open for air, and there was
only the curtain at the archway to quietly lift and let fall.
Tottering a little as she walked, she glided along the corridor,
a white figure with a spectral pale face and shining eyes,
she felt happy and light-hearted, almost she could have
sung a merry song, so singularly possessed by singular joy was
she. Reaching the open-air court she stopped, gazing eagerly
from side to side, its dim quadrangle was full of flickering
lights and shadows, for the moon had disappeared behind the
frowning portico, leaving but a silvery trail upon the sky to
faintly mark her recent passage among the stars. Everything
was very still, no living creature was visible save a little
downy owl that flew with a plaintive cry in and out among
the marble columns calling to its mate with melancholy per-
196 BARABBAS
sistence. The bereaved Iscariot, wearied out by grief, had
but just retired to snatch some sorely-needed rest, and the
body of his hapless son laid out beneath its violet pall, pos-
sessed to itself the pallid hour of the vanishing night and the
coming morn. Judith's softly sandalled feet made a delicate
sound like the pattering of falling leaves, as she moved some-
what unsteadily over the pavement, groping in the air now
and then with her hands as though she were blind. Very
soon her perplexed and wandering gaze found what she sought,
the suggestive dark mass of drapery under which reposed
all that was mortal of her brother, the elder companion and
confidant of her childhood who had loved her with a tender-
ness " passing that of women." She hurried her steps and
almost ran, and without any hesitation or fear, turned back
all the coverings till the face and the whole form of the dead
Judas lay before her, stark and stiff, the rope still fastened round
the neck in dreadful witness of the deed that had been done.
Terribly beautiful he seemed in that pale semi-radiance of the
sky, austerely grand, with something of a solemn scorn
upon his features, and an amazing world of passionate appeal
in his upward gazing eyes. "Call ye me a traitor?" he
mutely said to the watchful stars " Lo, in the days to come,
there shall be among professing saints many a worse than I !"
His sister looked at him curiously, with an expression of
wild inquisitiveness, but she neither wept nor trembled. A
fixed idea was in her distracted brain, undefined and fantastic,
but such as it was she was bent upon it. With a strange
triumph lighting up her eyes, she drew her jewelled dagger
from its sheath, and with deft care cut asunder the rope round
the throat of the corpse. As she pulled it cautiously away,
the blood again oozed slowly forth from beneath the bruised
skin, this was mysterious and horrible, and terrified her a
little, for she shuddered from head to foot. Anon she smiled,
and twisting the severed cord, stained and moist as it was,
in and out the embroidered girdle at her own waist, she threw
the dagger far from her into a corner of the quadrangle, and
clapped her hands delightedly.
" Judas !" she exclaimed " Lo ! I have cut the cruel rope
wherewith thou wast wounded, now thou can'st breathe 1
Come I rise up and speak to me ! Tell me all I will believe
all thy marvellous histories 1 I will not say that thou art wrongly
led, if thou wilt only smile again and speak, I will pardon
all thy foolish fancy for the teachings of the ' Nazarene.'
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDF 197
Thou knowest I would not drive thee to despair, I would noi
even willingly offend thee, I am thy little sister always who
is dear to thee. Judas listen ! 'Twas Caiaphas, 'twas the
high-priest himself who bade me to tell thee to betray thy
Master, and very rightly for thy mad prophet came in arms
against our creed. Why should'st thou turn rebellious and
forsake the faith of all our fathers? Come, rise and hear
reason 1" and with the unnatural force of a deepening frenzy,
she bent down and partly raised the corpse, staring at its
fearful countenance with mingled love and horror " Why,
how thou lookest at me ! with what cold unpiteous eyes ?
What have I done to thee ? Naught, save advise thee wisely.
As for Caiaphas, thou knowest not Caiaphas how much he
can do for thee if thou wilt show some fitting penitence"-
here she broke off with a kind of half-shriek, the weight of
the dead body was too much for her and lurched backward,
dragging her with it, she loosened her arms from about it,
and it straightway fell heavily prone in its former position.
She began to sob childishly.
" Judas, Judas 1 Speak tome! Kiss me! I know thou
nearest me and wilt not answer me for anger, because this
stranger out of Nazareth is dearer unto thee than I !"
She waited in evident expectation of some response, then,
as the silence remained unbroken, she began to play with the
blood-stained rope at her girdle.
" Ah well !" she sighed " I am sorry thou art sullen.
Caiaphas would do great things for thee if thou wert wise.
Why should'st thou thus grow desperate because of a traitor's
death? What manner of man was this much-marvelled-at
' Nazarene' ? Naught but a workman's son, possessed of strange
fanaticism ! And shall so small a thing sow rancour 'twixt us
twain ? Yet surely I will humour thee if still to humour Him
should be thy fancy, thou shalt have cross and crown made
sacred an' thou wilt, I can do no more in veriest kindness to
appease thy wrath, moreover thou dost maintain a useless
churlishness, since thy ' Nazarene' ia dead, and cannot, even to
please thee and amend thy sickness, rise again."
Again she paused, then commenced pacing to and fro in
the shadowy court looking about her vaguely. Presently spying
her dagger where she had lately flung it in a corner, she picked
it up and returned it to its sheath which still hung at her waist,
then she pulled down a long trail of climbing roses from the
wall, and came to lay them on the breast of the irrespousivo
17*
198 BARABBAS
dead. As she approached, a sudden brilliant luminance af-
frighted her, she started back, one hand involuntarily uplifted
to shade her eyes. A Cross of light, deep red and dazzling as
fire, hovered horizontally in the air immediately above the
body of Judas, spreading its glowing rays outward on every
side. She beheld it with amazement, it glittered before her
more brightly than the brightest sunbeams, her fevered and
wandering wits, not yet quite gone, recognised it as some
miracle beyond human comprehension, and on the merest im-
pulse she stretched forth her hands full of the just gathered
rose- clusters in an effort to touch that lustrous, living flame.
As she did so, a blood-like hue fell on her, she seemed to be
enveloped in a crimson mist that stained the whiteness of her
garments and the fairness of her skin, and cast a ruddier tint
than nature placed among the loosened tresses of her hair.
The very roses that she held blushed into scarlet, while the
wazen pallid features of the dead, had for a little space a glow
as of returning life. For one or two minutes the mystic glory
blazed, then vanished, leaving the air dull and heavy with a
sense of loss. And Judith standing paralysed with wonder,
watched it disappear, and saw at the same time that a change
had taken place in the aspect of her self-slain brother. The
lips that had been drawn apart in the last choking agony of
death were pressed together in a solemn smile, the eyes that
had stared aloft so fearfully were closed. Seeing this, she
began to weep and laugh hysterically, and flinging her rose-
garland across the still figure, she stooped and kissed that ice-
cold smiling mouth.
" Judas, Judas !" she said in smothered sobbing accents
"Now thou art gone to sleep, without a word, without a
blessing,- thou wilt not even look at me 1 Ah cruel ! never-
theless I do forgive thee, for surely thou art very weary, else
thou would'st not lie here so quietly beneath the stars. I will
let thee sleep on, I will not wake thee till the morning dawns.
At full daybreak I will come again and see that all is well with
thee, thou churlish one ! good-night 1" and she waved kisses
to the dead man smilingly with the tears blinding her eyes
" Good-night, my brother ! I will return soon and bring thee
news yea, I will bring thee pleasing news of Caiaphas, . . .
good- night I ... sleep well !"
And still waving fond and fantastic salutations, she moved
backward lightly on tip-toe step by step, her gaze fixed to tho
last on the now composed and beauteous face of the corpse,
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 199
then passing under the great portico, she noiselessly unfastened
the gate, and wandered out in all her distracted and dishevelled
beauty into the silent streets of the city alone.
CHAPTER XXXL
THE full Sabbath morning broke in unclouded loveliness,
and all the people of Jerusalem flocked to the gorgeous Temple
on Mount Moriah to see and to be seen, and to render their
formal thanks to the most High Jehovah for their escape from
all the threatening horrors of the previous day. Some there
were who added to their prayers the unconscious blasphemy of
asking God to pardon them for having allowed the " Nazarene"
to live even so long as He had done seeing that His doctrines
were entirely opposed to the spirit and the faith of the nation.
Yet, all the same, a singular lack of fervour marked the solemn
service, notwithstanding that in the popular opinion there was
everything to be thankful for. The veil of the "Holy of
Holies," rent in the midst, hung before the congregation as a
sinister reminder of the terrors of the past thunder-storm,
earthquake and deep darkness ; and the voice of the high-priest
Caiaphas grew wearily monotonous and indistinct long before
the interminable morning ritual was ended. Something seemed
missing, there appeared to be no longer any meaning in the
usually imposing " reading of the law," there was a vacancy
and dulness in the whole ceremonial which left a cold and
cheerless impression upon the minds of all. When the crowd
poured itself forth again from the different gates, many groups
wended their way out of sheer curiosity to the place where
the "Prophet of Nazareth" was now ensepulchred, for the
story of Joseph of Arimathea's "boldly" going to claim the
body from Pilate, and the instant vigilance of Caiaphas in
demanding that a watch should be set round the tomb, had
already been widely rumoured thoughout the city.
" We never h^ad a more discreet and shrewd high-priest,"
said one man, pausing in the stately King's Portico to readjust
the white linen covering on his head more carefully before
stepping out into the unshaded heat and glare of the open
200 BARABBAS
road, " He hath conducted this matter with rare wisdom, for
surely the ' Nazarene's' disciples would have stolen His body,
rather than have Him proved a false blasphemer for the second
time."
" Ay, thou sayest truly I" answered his companion " And
the whole crew of them are in Jerusalem at this time, an
ill-assorted dangerous rabble of the common folk of Galilee.
Were I Caiaphas, I would find means of banishing these
rascals from the city under pain of death."
" One hath banished himself" said the first speaker,
" Thou hast doubtless heard of the end of young Judas
Iscariot ?"
The other man nodded.
" Judas was mad," he said, " Nothing in life could satisfy
him, he was ever prating of reforms and clamouring for truth.
Such fellows are not fitted for the world."
" Verily he must himself have come to that conclusion"
remarked his friend with a grave smile, as he slowly descended
the Temple steps, " and so thinking, left the world with most
determined will. He was found hanging to the branch of a
tree close by the garden of Gethsemane, and last night his body
was borne home to his father's house."
" But have ye heard no later news?" chimed in another man
who had listened to the little conversation, " Iscariot hath
had another grief which hath driven him well-nigh distracted.
He hath lost his chiefest treasure, his pampered and too-much
beloved daughter, and hath been to every neighbour seeking
news of her and finding none. She hath left him in the night
suddenly, and whither she hath gone no one can tell."
By this time the group of gossips had multiplied, and startled
wondering looks were exchanged among them all.
" His daughter 1" echoed a bystander " Surely 'tis not
possible! The proud Judith? Wherefore should she have
fled ?"
" Who can say ! She swooned last night at seeing her dead
brother, and was carried unconscious to her bed. There her
maidens watched her, but in their watching, slept, and when
at last they wakened, she was gone."
The listeners shook their heads dubiously as not knowing
what to make of it; and murmuring vague expressions of
compassion for Iscariot, " a worthy man and wealthy, who
deserved not this affliction," as they said, went slowly, talking
aa they went, homeward on their various ways.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 201
Meanwhile, a considerable number of people had gathered
together in morbid inquisitiveness round the guarded burial-
place of the " Nazarene." It was situate in a wild and pictur-
esque spot between two low hills, covered with burnt brown
turf and bare of any foliage, and in itself presented the
appearance of a cave deeply hollowed out in the natural rock.
Rough attempts at outward adornment had been made in the
piling-up of a few sparkling blocks of white granite in pyra-
midal form on the summit, and these glittered just now like
fine crystals in the light of the noonday sun. The square cut-
ting that served as entrance to the tomb was entirely closed by
a huge stone fitting exactly into the aperture, and between
this stone and the rock itself was twisted a perfect network of
cords, sealed in about a hundred places with the great seal of
the Sanhedrim council. Round the sepulchre, on every side
were posted the watch, consisting of about fifteen soldiers picked
out from a special band of one hundred, and headed by a
formidable-looking centurion of muscular build and grim
visage, who, as the various groups of idle spectators approached
to look at the scene, eyed them with fierce disfavour.
" By the gods !" he growled to one of his men " What a
filthy and suspicious race are these cursed Jews ! Lo you, how
they sneak hither staring and whispering ! Who knows but
they think we ourselves may make away with the body of the
man they crucified yesterday ! Worthily do they match their
high-priest in cautious cowardice ! Never was such a panic
about a corpse before 1"
And he tramped to and fro sullenly in front of the tomb,
his lance and helmet gleaming like silver in the light, the while
he kept his eyes obstinately fixed on the ground determined not
to honour by so much as a glance the scattered sightseers who
loitered aimlessly about, staring without knowing what they
stared at, but satisfied at any rate in their own minds, that
here assuredly there was no pretence at keeping a watch,
these were real soldiers, unimaginative callous men for whom
the " Nazarene" was no more than a Jew reformer who had
met his death by the ordinance of the law.
By and by as the sun grew hotter, the little knots of people
dispersed, repeating to one another as they sauntered along,
the various wonderful stories told of the miracles worked by
the dead " Prophet out of Nazareth I"
" How boldly he faced Pilate I" said one.
" Ay ! and how grandly he died 1"
202 BARABBAS
" 'Tis ever the way with such fellows as he" declared
another " They run uiad with much thinking, and death is
nothing to them, for they believe that they will live again."
So conversing, and alluding occasionally to the tragic inci-
dents that had attended the sublime death-scene on Calvary,
they strolled citywards, and only one of all the straggling spec-
tators was left behind, a man in the extreme of age, bent and
feeble and wretchedly clad, who supported himself on a crutch
and lingered near the sepulchre, casting timorous and appealing
glances at the men on guard. Galbus, the centurion, observed
him and frowned angrily.
" What doest thou here, thou Jew skeleton ?" he demanded
roughly " Off with thee 1 Bring not thy sores and beggary
into quarters with the soldiers of Home."
" Sir, sir" faltered the old man anxiously " I ask no
alms. I do but seek thy merciful favour to let me lay my
hands upon the stone of yonder tomb, . . . once, only once,
good sir ! the little maid is sorely ailing, and methinks to
touch the stone and pray there would surely heal her sick-
ness" He broke off, trembling all over and stretching out
his wrinkled hands wistfully.
Galbus stared contemptuously.
What dost thou jabber of?" ho asked" The little maid ?
what little maid ? And what avail this touching of a stone ?
Thou'rt in thy dotage, man ; get hence and cure thy wits,
'tis they that should be healed right speedily !"
" Sir 1" cried the old man almost weeping " The little maid
trill die 1 Look you, good soldier, 'tis but a week agone that
He who lies within that tomb, did take her in His arms and
bless her ; she is but three years old and passing fair. And
now she hath been stricken with the fever, and methought
could I but touch the stone of yonder sepulchre and say
' Master, I pray thee heal the child,' He, though He be dead,
would hear and answer me. For He was ever pitiful for sor-
row, and He was gentle with the little maid."
Galbus flushed red, there was a strange contraction in his
throat of which he did not approve, and there was also a burning
moisture in his eyes which was equally undesired. Something
in this piteous old man's aspect, as well as the confiding sim-
plicity of his faith touched the fierce soldier to an emotion of
which he was ashamed. Raising his lance he beckoned him
nearer.
" Come hither, thou aged madman," he said with affected
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 203
roughness " Keep close to me, under my lifted lance, thou
mayest lay hands upon the stone for one brief minute, take
heed thou break not the Sanhedrim seals ! And let thy prayer
for thy little maid be of most short duration, though take my
word for it thou art a fool to think that a dead man hath ears
to hearken thy petition. Nevertheless, come."
Stumbling along and breathless with eagerness the old man
obeyed. Close to the sacred sepulchre he came, Galbus guarding
his every movement with vigilant eye, and humbly kneel-
ing down before the sealed stone he laid his aged hands
upon it.
"Lord, if thou wilt" he said "Thou canst save the little
maid 1 Say but the word and she is healed."
One minute he knelt thus, then he rose with a glad light
in his dim old eyes.
" Most humbly do I thank thee, sir !" he said to the cen-
turion, uncovering his white locks and bowing meekly " May
God reward thee for thy mercy unto me !"
Galbus gazed at him curiously from under his thick black
eyebrows.
" Of what province art thou?"
" Sir, of Samaria."
" And thinkest thou in very truth thou hast obtained a
miracle from that tomb ?"
" Sir, I know nothing of the secret ways divine. But sure
I am the little maid is saved. God be with thee, soldier 1 ...
God guide thy lance and evermore defend thee !"
And with many expressive salutations of gratitude he tot-
tered away.
Galbus looked after him meditatively, till his thin raggedly-
clothed figure had fluttered out of sight like a fluttering with-
ered leaf, then the grim Roman shook his head profoundly,
pulled his beard, laughed, frowned, passed his hand across his
eyes, and finally, having conquered whatever momentary soft
emotion had possessed him, glanced about him severely and sus-
piciously to see that all his men were in their several places.
The noonday heat and glare had compelled them to move into
their tents which were ranged all round the sepulchre in an
even snowy ring, and Galbus, seeing this, quickly followed
their example, and himself retired within the shelter of his
own particular pavilion. This was pitched directly opposite the
stone which closed the mystic tomb, and as the burly cen-
turion sat down and lifted his helmet to wipe his hot face, ho
204 BARABBAS
muttered an involuntary curse on the sultriness and barren soil
of Judaea, and wished himself heartily back in Rome.
" For this is a country of fools" he soliloquised " And
worse still 'tis a country of cowards. These Jews were afraid
of the ' Nazarene' as they call Him, while He lived ; and now
it seems they are more afraid of Him still when He is dead.
Well, well ! 'tis a thing to laugh at, a Roman will kill his
enemy, true enough, but being killed he will salute the corpse
and leave it to the gods without further fear or passion."
At that moment an approaching stealthy step startled him.
He sprang up, shouldered his lance and stood in the doorway of
his tent expectant ; a tall man muffled in a purple cloak con-
fronted him, it was Caiaphas who surveyed him austerely.
" Dost thou keep good watch, centurion ?" he demanded.
" My vigilance hath never been questioned, sir," responded
Galbus stiffly.
Caiaphas waved his hand deprecatingly.
" I meant not to offend thee, soldier, but there are knaves
about, and I would have thee wary."
He dropped his mantle, disclosing a face that was worn and
haggard with suffering and want of sleep, then, stepping close
up to the sepulchre he narrowly examined all the seals upon
the stone. They were as he had left them on the previous
evening, untouched, unbroken.
" Hast thou heard any sound ?" he asked in a whisper.
Galbus stared.
" From within yonder ?" he said, pointing with his lance at
the tomb " Nay ! never have I heard voice proceed from any
dead man yet."
Caiaphas forced a smile, nevertheless he bent his ear
against the stone and listened.
" What of the night ?" he queried anxiously " Were ye
interrupted in your first watch ?"
"By the baying of dogs at the moon, and the hooting of
owls only" replied Galbus disdainfully, " And such inter-
ruptions, albeit distasteful, are not to be controlled."
" I meant not these things" said Caiaphas, turning upon
him vexedly " I thought the women might have lingered,
making lamentation"
" Women have little chance where I am," growled Galbus,
" True, they did linger, till I sent them off. Yet I treated
them with kindness for they were weeping sorely, foolish souls,
the sight of death doth ever move them strangely, and
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 205
'twas a passing beauteous corpse o'er which they made their
useless outcry. Nevertheless I am not a man to find console -
ments for such grief, I bade them mourn at home ; the tears
of women do provoke me more than blows."
Caiaphas stood lost in thought, anon he stooped again to
listen at the sealed-up door of the sepulchre. Galbus, watch-
ing him, laughed.
" By the gods, sir," he said " One would think thou wert
the chief believer in the dead man's boast that he would rise
again ! What hearest thou ? Prithee say ! a message from
the grave would be rare news !"
Caiaphas deigned no reply. Muffling himself again iu his
mantle, he asked
" When does the watch change?"
" In an hour's time," replied Galbus " Then I, together
with my men, rest for a space, in such heat as this, rest is
deserved."
" And when dost thou return again ?"
" To-night at moonrise."
"To-night at moonrise 1" echoed Caiaphas thoughtfully.
" Mark my words, Galbus, watch thy men and guard thyself
from sleeping. To-night use double vigilance ! for when to-
night is past, then fears are past, and when to-morrow's sun
doth shine, and he, the 'Nazarene,' is proved again a false
blasphemer to the people, then will all watching end. Thou
wilt be well rewarded, watch, I say, to-night ! far more to-
night than any hour of to-day. Thou hearest me ?"
Galbus nodded.
" I have heard much of the truth and circumspectness of
the soldiery of Rome" proceeded Caiaphas smiling darkly
" And specially of warriors like thee, who have the mastery
of a hundred men, from which this present watch is chosen.
Take heed therefore to do thy calling and thy country justice,
so shall thy name be carried on the wings of praise to Caesar.
Fare-thee-well 1"
He moved away then paused, listening doubtfully, with
head turned back over his shoulder towards the tomb.
" Art thou sure thou hast heard nothing ?" he asked
again.
Galbus lost patience.
" By the great name of the Emperor I serve and by the
lance I carry," he exclaimed, striking his heel on the groundj
" I swear to thee, priest, nothing nothing !"
18
206 BARABBAS
*" Thou hast hot blood, soldier" returned Caiaphas sedately
'' Beware lest it lead thee into error 1"
And he paced slowly down the dusty road and disappeared.
Galbus watched his retreating form with an irrepressible disgust
written on every feature of his face. One of his men ap-
proached him.
" 'Twas the Jewish high-priest that spoke with thee ?"
"Ay, 'twas even he" he responded briefly "Either I
choke in his presence, or the dust kicked up by his holy sandals
hath filled me with a surpassing thirst. Fetch me a cup of
wine."
The man obeyed, getting the required beverage out of the
provision tent.
"Ah, that washes the foul taste of the Jew out of my
mouth" said Galbus, drinking heartily, " Methinks our
Emperor hath got a beggarly province here in Judaea. Why,
if history have any truth in it, 'tis the custom of this people
to be conquered and sold into slavery. I believe of all my
hundred, thou dost know thy lessons best, Vorsinius, have
not these Jews been always slaves ?"
Vorsinius, a young soldier with a fair intelligent countenance,
smiled.
" I would not say so much as that, good Galbus," he replied
modestly " but methinks they have never been heroes."
" No, nor will they ever be," said Galbus, draining his cup
and shaking the dregs out on the ground " Such names as
hero and Jew consort not well together. What other nation
in the world than this one would insist on having a watch set
round a tomb lest perchance a dead man should rise 1"
He laughed, and the good-humoured Vorsinius laughed with
him. Then they resumed their respective posts, and moved no
more till in an hour's time the watch was changed. But save
for the clanking of armour as one party of soldiers marched
away into the city, and the other detachment took its place, the
deep and solemn silence round the sealed sepulchre remained
nnbrokeu.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDF 207
CHAPTEK XXXII.
MEANWHILE Barabbas sitting with his friend Melchior in
the best room of the inn where that mysterious personage had
his lodging, was endeavouring to express his thanks for the
free and ungrudging hospitality that had been afforded him.
He had supped well, slept well, and breakfasted well, and all
at the cost and care of this new acquaintance with whom, as
might be said, he was barely acquainted, moreover the very
garments he wore were Melchior's and not his own.
" If thou seekest a man to work, I will work for thee" he
said now, fixing his large bold black eyes anxiously on the
dark enigmatical face of his voluntary patron, " But unless
thou can'st make use of my strength in service, I can never
repay thee. I have no kinsfolk in the world, mother and
father are dead long since, and well for them that it is so, for
I should have doubtless been their chief affliction. Once I
could make a boast of honesty, I worked for the merchant
Shadeen, and though I weighed out priceless gems and golden
ingots I never robbed him by so much as a diamond chip until
until the last temptation. If thou wilt ask him, he will I
know say this of me for he was sorrier for my sin than I
had heart to be. I have some little knowledge of books and
old philosophies, and formerly I had the gift of fluent speech,
but whatsoever I might have been I am not now, my
hands are stained with blood and theft, and though the peo-
ple set me free, full well I know I am an outcast from true
liberty. Nevertheless thou hast fed me, housed me, clothed
me, and told me many wise and wondrous things, wherefore
out of gratefulness, which I lack not, and bounden duty, I am
fain to serve thee and repay thee, if thou wilt only teach me
how."
Melchior, leaning back on a low window-seat, surveyed him
placidly from under his half-closed eyelids, a faint smile on his
handsome mouth.
"Friend Barabbas," he responded lazily, "thou owest me
nothing on the contrary, 'tis I that owe thee much. Thou
art a type of man, even as I also am a type of man, and I
have derived much benefit from a study of thy complex parts,
more benefit perchance than is discovered in the ' old philos-
208 BARABBAS
ophies' wherewith thou fanciest thou art familiar. Mark thou
the difference betwixt us ! though seemingly our composition
is the same dull mortal clay. Thou art poor, thou hast but
yester morn left prison, naked and ashamed, I am rich, not
by the gifts of men, which things I spurn, or by the leavings
of the dead ; but by the work of mine own brain, man's only
honest breadwinner. I have never found my way to prison,
as I despise all roads that lead one thither. They are foul,
therefore, loving cleanness, I tread not in them. Thou, made
animal man, and ignorant of the motive power of brain that
masters matter, did'st at the bidding of mere fleshly lust re-
sign thine honour for a woman's sake, I, made intelligent
man, do keep my honour for my own sake, and for the carry-
ing out of higher laws which I perceive exist. Nevertheless
thou art truer man than I. Thou art the type of sheer brute
manhood, against which Divine Spirit for ever contends."
He paused ; and lifting his head from its recumbent posi-
tion, smiled again.
" What wilt thou do for me, Barabbas ?" he continued lightly
. " Draw water, till the soil, shake my garments free from
dust, or other such slavish service? Go to! I would not
have thee spoil thy future ! Take my advice and journey thou
to Rome, I'll fill thy pouch with coin, settle thyself as
usurer there and lend out gold to Caesar! Lend it freely,
with monstrous interest accumulating, for the use of the Im-
perial whims, battles, buildings, and wantons ! So get thee
rich and live honourably, none will ask of thee ' wert thou
thief?' ' wert thou murderer ?' No ! for the Emperor will
kiss thy sandal and put on thee his choicest robe, and all
thou hast to do ia to keep his name upon thy books and never
let it go. 'Ave Caesar Imperator' is the keynote of the
Roman shouting but Caesar's whisper in thine ear will have
more meaning ' Hail, Barabbas, King of the Jews ! rich,
Barabbas, who doth lend me money, noble Barabbas, whoi
willingly reneweth bills, powerful Barabbas, who doth hold
the throne and dynasty by a signature !' "
He laughed, the while his companion stared at him fas-
cinated and half afraid.
" Or," pursued Melchior, " wilt thou by preference make
friends with frenzied Peter, and join the disciples of the
'Nazarene'?"
" Not with Peter no !" exclaimed Barabbas in haste, " I
ike him not, he is not certain of his faith. And of the
H,
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 209
other men who came from Galilee I knew naught, save that
they all forsook their Master. JLwould have followed the
' Nazarene' Himself into the blackest hell ! but His followers
are coward mortals and He"
" Was Divine, thiukest thou ?" asked Melchior, fixing upon
him a look of searching gravity.
Barabbas met his gaze steadily for a moment, then his own
eyes fell and he sighed deeply.
" I know not what to think," he confessed at last. " When
I first beheld Him, He did in very truth seem all Divine !
then. the glory vanished, and only a poor patient suffering
Man stood there, where I, faint from the prison famine and
distraught of fancy, imagined I had seen an Angel ! Then
when He died ah then, my soul was shaken ! for to the
very last I hoped against all hope, surely, I said, a God can
never die. And now, if thou wilt have the truth, I judge
Him as a martyred Man, of glorious beauty, of heroic char-
acter, one worthy to follow, to love, to serve ; . . . but . . .
if He had been indeed a God, He could not thus hava
died !"
Melchior leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand and
studying him curiously.
-JV Knowest thou, excellent Barabbas, what is this death?"
he asked " Among the ' old philosophies' thou readest, hast
mastered aught concerning its true nature ?"
" All men know what it is" replied Barabbas drearily
u A choking of the breath, a blindness of the eyes, dark-
ness, silence, and an end !"
"Nay, not an end, but a beginning!" said Melchior rising
and confronting him, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm
" That choking of the breath, that blindness of the eyes
these are the throes of birth, not death ! Even as the new-
born child struggles for air, and cannot too suddenly endure
the full unshaded light of day, so does the new-born soul
that struggles forth from out its fleshly womb, fight gaspingly
for strength to take its first deep breathings-in of living glorv.
A darkness and a silence, sayest thou ? Not so ! a radiance
and a music ! a wondrous clamour of the angels' voices ringing
out melodies aloft like harps in tune ! And of the spirit lately
parted from the earth, they ask ' What bringest thou ?
What message dost thou bear? Hast thou made the sad
world happier, wiser, fairer?' and over all, the deathless
Voice of Marvel thunders ' Soul of a man ! What hast
210 BARABBAS
thou done?' And that great question must be met and an-
swered, and no Lie will serve !"
Barabbas gazed at him, awed, but incredulous.
" This is the faith of Egypt ?" he asked.
Melchior eyed him with a touch of scorn.
"The faith of Egypt 1" he echoed "'Tis not faith, 'tis
knowledge ! Knowledge gained through faith. 'Tis no more
of Egypt than of any land, 'tis a truth, and as a truth is
universal, a truth the ' Nazarene' was born to make most
manifest. The world is never ripe for truth, how should it
be, so long as it is well content to build its business and its
social life on lies !"
He paused, and recovering from his momentary excitement,
went on in his coldest and most satirical tone
I " Worthy Barabbas, thou, like the world, art most unfitted
for the simplest learning, despite thine 'old philosophies.' Such
common facts as that there are millions upon millions of eternal
worlds, and millions upon millions of eternal forms of life, would
but confuse thy brain and puzzle it. Thou art a mass of matter,
unpermeated by the fires of the spirit, and were I to tell thee
that the ' Nazarene' has ' died" according to the common word,
only to prove there is no death at all, thy barbarous mind would
be most sore perplexed and troubled. Thou hast not yet obtained
the mastery of this planet's laws, thou'rt brute man merely,
though now, methinks thou'rt more like some fierce tiger disap-
pointed of its mate, for thou can'st not wed thy Judith"-fr
Barabbas interrupted him with a fierce gesture.
" I would not wed her now !"
" No ? Thou would'st rather murder Caiaphas ?"
Barabbas shuddered. His black brows met in a close frown,
his lips were pressed together hard, and his eyes were almost
hidden under their brooding lids.
" I have already blood upon my hands," he muttered " And
the man I killed Gabrias was innocent, my God ! inno-
cent as a dove compared to this wolfish priest who works hia
evil will by treachery and cunning. Nevertheless since I be-
held the ' Nazarene'' "
" Why should the ' Nazarene' affect thee ?" asked Melchior
placidly " A martyred Man, thou sayest no more, thou
can'st be sorry for Him as for many another and forget."
Barabbas lifted his eyes.
" I cannot take a human life again," he said solemnly, his
voice trembling a little " since I have looked upon His face 1"
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 211
Molchior was silent.
A long pause ensued, then Barabbas resumed in calmer
tones
" If thou wilt give me leave, I will go forth and ask for news
of old Iscariot, and of his daughter, for though I may not,
would not wed her, because my own great sins and hers
have set up an everlasting barrier between us, I love her,
Heaven help me, still. I have slept late and heard nothing,
wherefore to ease my mind concerning her, I will inquire how
atie fares. I would I could forget the face of the dead Judas !"
A tremor ran through him, and he moved restlessly.
"'Twas a face to be remembered" said Melchior medita-
tively " Set in the solemn shadows of the trees, 'twas a pale
warning to the world ! Nevertheless, despite its frozen tragedy,
it was not all despair. Remorse was written in its staring eyes,
remorse, repentance ; and for true repentance, God hath
but one reply pity, and pardon 1"
" Thinkest thou in very truth his sin will be forgiven ?" ex-
claimed Barabbas eagerly.
" Not by the world that drove him to that sin's committal"/
answered Melchior bitterly " The world that hunts men
down to desperation, hath no pity for the desperate. But
God's love never falters. even the trembling soul of Judas
may find shelter in that hjvej'*
His voice grew very sweet and grave, and a sudden moisture
dimmed Barabbas's eyes.
" Thy words do comfort me," he murmured huskily, ashamed
of his emotion " albeit I have been told that God is ever a
God of vengeance. But Judas was so young, . . . and Ju-
dith" He broke off then added whisperingly " I forgot
he bled at her touch ! 'twas horrible horrible, that stain of
blood on her white fingers !"
Melchior said nothing, and Barabbas, after a minute or two,
rose up to go out.
" I must breathe the air" he said abruptly " The heat
within the house doth choke me. I will ask where the ' Naza-
rene' is buried, and go thither."
" Why ?" inquired Melchior " Since thou believest not in
Him, what is He to thee ?"
" I cannot tell" answered Barabbas slowly <l Something
there is that draws me to the thought of Him, but what it is
I cannot yet discover. If I believe not in Him as a God, 'tis
because what I hear of Him doth pass all human understand-
212 BARABBAS
ing. Even what thou hast briefly told me doth utterly COD-
found all reason, the miracle of His birth when His mother
Mary was a virgin, how can I credit this? 'Tis madness j
and my soul rejects that which I cannot comprehend."
" Did I not tell thee what a type thou wert and art ?" said
Melchior " A type of man unspiritualised, and therefore only
half instructed. If thou rejectest what thou can'st not com-
prehend, thou must reject the whole wide working of the uni-
verse ! ' Where wast thou, 1 God said unto His servant Job,
' when I laid the foundations of the earth f Declare if thou
hast understanding ? . . . Hast thou commanded the morning
since thy days T Alas, most profound and reasonable Barab-
bas ! if thou dost wait till thou can'st ' comprehend' the mys-
teries of the Divine Will, thou wilt need to grope through
aeons upon aeons of eternal wonder, living a thinking life through
all, and even then not reach the inner secret. (jComprehendest
thou how the light finds its sure way to the dry seed in the
depths of earth and causes it to fructify ? or how, imprisoning
itself within drops of water and grains of dust, it doth change
these things of ordinary matter into diamonds which queens
covet ? Thou art not able to ' comprehend' these simplest facts
of simple nature, and nature being but the outward reflex of
God's thought, how should'st thou understand the workings
of His interior Spirit which is Himself in all ? Whether He
create a world, or breathe the living Essence of His own Di-
vinity into aerial atoms to be absorbed in flesh and blood, and
born as Man of virginal Woman, He hath the power supreme
to do such things, if such be His great pleasure. Talkest thou
of miracles? thou art thyself a miracle, thou livest in a
miracle, the whole world is a miracle, and exists in spite of
thee 1 Go thy ways, man; search out truth in thine own
fashion ; but if it should elude thee, blame not the truth which
ever is, but thine own witlessness which cannot grasp it !^
Barabbas stood silent, strangely moved and startled by the
broadness of his new friend's theories.
" I would I could believe in such a God as thou dost picture !"
he said softly " One who doth indeed love us, and whom we
could love !"
He paused and sighed ; then on a sudden impulse, ap-
proached Melchior and taking his hand, kissed it.
" I know not who thou art," he said " but thy words are
brave and bold, and to me thou hast been more than generous.
Thou must consider me thy servant, for as I told thee I have
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 213
no other means of paying back the debt I owe thee. Suffer
me therefore to attend thee, at least till I find ways of work,
shall this be so ?"
Melchior smiled.
44 Thou shah do even as thou wilt, Barabbas, albeit I do not
need attendance. Myself hath been my bodyguard for years,
and I have never found a more discreet and faithful confi-
dant ! Nevertheless, to satisfy thy sudden-tender conscience, I
will accept thy service."
A look of relief that was almost happiness lightened Barab-
bas'c dark features, giving them a certain nobleness and beauty.
" I thank thee !" he said simply " Can I do aught now for
thee within the city ?"
" Thou cau'st bring me _news !" returned Melchior, fixing
his eyes upon him steadily " There may be some of highest
import. And mark me ! if thou dost visit the tomb of the
' Nazarene,' take heed, thou wilt find it strongly guarded.
Quarrel not with those who watch, lest thou should'st be ac-
cused of some conspiracy to steal the corpse, the Jewish
priests are yet in terror, for the ' Nazarene' did swear that on
the ' third day,' that is, to-morrow, remember, to-morrow !
He would riso again."
Barabbas stopped in the very act of leaving the room, and
turning on the threshold exclaimed ;
" Impossible ! Thou dost echo the last night's frenzy of
Peter ! Rise, living, from the grave ? Impossible I He can-
not !"
Melchior looked full at him.
" If Death be death, why truly He cannot," he responded,
" But if Death be Life, why then He can !"
CHAPTER XXXIII.
WITH these last strange words ringing in his ears Barabbas
went out, wandering almost unseeingly in the open street, and
trying to concentrate his thoughts upon the things immediately
around him. Somehow he found this difficult. His mind was
in a dreamy whirl, and he could hardly realise the full extent
of all that had occurred to him within the short space of a
214 BARABBAS
little more than twenty-four hours. Whole ages seemed to
have passed since the early morning of the previous day when
he had been released from prison and when the " Nazarene"
had been condemned to die. He had come out of his dungeon,
half delirious with joy at the prospect of freedom, believing
in Judith Iscariot and loving her as a man only loves once in
a lifetime. Now he knew her worthlessness, the unrepenting
vileness, treachery and corruption of her life, and though he
loved her still, he was perfectly aware that it was only because
he could not yet detach his soul from the clinging memory of
her bewitching bodily beauty, and this was a love, or rather a
passion, of which he was vaguely ashamed. Ashamed ? he,
a thief, a murderer, ashamed of anything ? Since when ?
Why, only since he had looked upon the " Nazarene." It
was strange ! with all the force of his strong though untutored
will, he tried to understand what singularly miraculous power
this " Man of Nazareth" possessed, that even now, now when
He was crucified and dead, he, Barabbas, should yet be curiously
conscious of His presence, and conscious too that this mystic
nearness of Him made all sin appear inexpressibly hateful and
humiliating. Sighing uneasily, and angry with himself for
being unable to comprehend his own feelings, he rambled about
the streets aimlessly at first, but afterwards, recollecting part
of his intention, he visited the house of Iscariot. There for
the first time he learned from the servants of the mysterious
disappearance of Judith. Sick at heart, he listened while the
man who had opened the gate told him that search had been
made everywhere throughout the city in vain, and that even
now, Iscariot himself was with Pilate the governor, seeking
for the help of the law to aid in the discovery of the missing
girl. The servant added in awestricken tones that they had
found the corpse of Judas uncovered, with a branch of roses
laid across it, and that the rope which had been round his
throat was gone. " 'Tis likely she hath taken it" he con-
cluded " Much grief perchance hath driven her distraught.
But wheresoever she hath wandered we can hear no tidings of
her."
" I will find her" said Barabbas" Tell her father when
he comes that I will never rest till I discover her. I will
f eek for her high and low, living or dead I will bring her
Lome."
He shuddered a little ao the word " dead" escaped his lips,
and the man who received his message was startled at the
A r>REA\I OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 215
fierce expression of his hazard face, but nevertheless re-
sponded dismally that " these \\ure sore times of trouble," anu
also that the self-slain heir of the house, Judas, would bo
" buried to-morrow."
" To-morrow !" echoed Barabbas with a wild stare, scarcely
knowing what he said " Why, to-morrow they say the
' Nazarene' will rise again ! Why bury Judas ? If one dead
man can come to life so can another !"
The servant really alarmed this time, shut to the gate with
*ut further parley, privately considering that everybody excep
himself was going mad, Barabbas in particular, while Barab-
bas on his part, perfectly reckless as to his appearance or man-
ner, stumbled blindly and giddily down the sunny street, seeing
nothing but the face of Judith as she had looked last night,
lifting up her burning eyes from the body of her dead brother,
and smiling distractedly on the stern disciple Peter from out
the golden shower of her hair.
" Gone gone ! and whither ?" he muttered as he went
" To Caiaphas ? Would she have sought out Caiaphas ?"
He checked his pace abruptly. The high-priest's palace was
not far off, he could see the lofty palms and thick-fbliaged
fig-trees of its private garden to which none had the entry
save the high-priest himself, but to obtain admittance even
to the outer court of the house without the excuse of somo
business of high sacerdotal importance, would, he knew, be
impossible. Moreover his very name, Barabbas, was sufficient
to exclude him hopelessly. He sat down on a bench by the
roadway and tried to think it out. There were no people
passing, the stillness of the Sabbath reigned throughout the
city. Resting his head between his two hands he pondered all
ways and means of obtaining access to Caiaphas, in vain, no
fortress was more impregnable than the high-priest's abode,
no one more haughtily unapproachable in his private capacity
than the high-priest in person.
" Nevertheless, he knows !" said Barabbas aloud, " He is
her lover, curse him ! and he knows where she hath fled. It
may be she is with him even now."
As he spoke he lifted his head, and saw that a woman had
paused near him and was looking at him wistfully. He recog-
nised her instantly, by her fair hair, her dreamy face, her
coarse grey linen gown knotted beneath her bosom by a hempen
girdle ; it was Mary of Magdala. Instinctively he rose up,
gazing at her as steadily as she gazed at him.
216 BARABBAS
" Thou art Barabbas ?" she said in tremulous accents
" Thou art he who should have died yesterday iustead of our
Beloved 1"
Her voice moved him deeply. It was penetratingly sweet
and pathetic, there was a tremor in it that unnerved him.
He tried to remind himself that she was an evil woman, a
thing polluted, yet while he thought of this he grew in a
manner amazed at the limpid purity and beauty of her eyes.
They were of a singularly clear blue, but their wonderful
lustre seemed to be a brightness exhaled from inward tears.
" Thou should'st have died !" she repeated, and faintly
smiled " Sorrowful Barabbas !"
He looked at her in vague wonderment.
" Sorrowful I am in truth," he said " But what knowest
thou of my sorrow ? Surely I have good reason to be glad,
seing that I am free once more, at liberty to live my life out
to its end."
"And dost thou love thy life and liberty?" asked Mary
softly "Dost thou find the world so fair? Thou wert not
overburdened with rejoicing yesterday, when in the darkness
of the death of love, thou did'st kneel and weep with me !"
He did not answer her at once,^but stood regarding her with
a stern intentness. Suddenly he gave a gesture of pain and pity.
" woman 1" he exclaimed passionately " Beautiful as
thou art, why dost thou make of thy beauty degradation ? I
know thee ! who does not know thee ! accurst and outcast !
go thy ways die even as Judas died, rather than live as
thou dost live 1"
She smiled, a strange sad smile, that like the pureness of
her eyes seemed born of weeping.
/* Friend, I have died !" she said " At my Lord's feet I
law down all my life. Men made me what I was ; God makes
me what^I am."
" THou art the Magdalen ;" responded Barabbas harshly
" And neither God nor man shall alter thee !"
She crossed her small hands on her bosom and bent her head.
" I was the Magdalen !" and she raised her eyes, full of
bright tears, to the quiet sky " Or, rather, of thy charity, say
I was that poor affrighted thing, hunted by devils, whom men
did torture into being Magdalen."
" Whom men did torture !" repeated Barabbas half angrily
" Woman, for all thy sins thou hast thyself to blame !"
Her lips quivered.
A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 217
<' Thou'rt man ;" she answered " Therefore as man thon
speakest. Lay all the burden upon woman, the burden of
sin, of misery, of shame, of tears ; teach her to dream of perfect
love, and then devour her by selfish lust, slay her by slow
tortures innumerable, cast her away and trample on her even
as a worm in the dust, and then when she hath perished, stand
on her grave and curse her, saying ' Thou wert to blame !
thou fond, foolish, credulous trusting soul ! thou wert to blame 1
not I r)
Something in her vibrating accents struck to the heart of
Barabbas with a sense of reproach. He drooped his head
ashamed, and was silent.
"Hast thou a right to judge me?" she queried mildly;
" Art thou without sin ? Nevertheless, let us not idly re-
proach one another, I tell thee Magdalen, as Magdalen, is
dead; LJMary^ .live."
" What difference dost thou make in such wise 'twixt dead
and living!" murmured Barabbas with a troubled sigh.
"What difference?" echoed Mary " What difference is
there 'twixt the darkness and the light? The Mag-Jalen was
wilder than all furies, mad with the fires of hell, pursued
of devils, bereft of hope, and ignorant of God poor soul,
poor soul ! she died most piteously and painlessly, slain by a
word of pardon from the AJl-Forgiving 1 Oh, I cannot choose
but weep to think of it ! And Mary lives, Mary, who hath
discovered heaven in a broken heart, Mary, who builds up
aerial hopes from tears of patience, Mary, whose ears have
listened to the music of the Master's voice such music !
sweeter than the sweetest song ! ' Go thy way,' He said
' Sin no more !' high command ! 'Twas as a crown of
glory set upon me ! ' Sin no more !' How could I sin, re-
membering Him ! Who could look once upon Him, and return
from that fair light to darkness? Lo, I am newly born, and
trembling in the throes of life, half weeping, half afraid, but
full of love ! love for my Master and my king who hath for-
given me and blessed me !"
Her sweet voice had a rhythmic chime of mingled melan-
choly and triumph, and Barabbas listened, fascinated and won-
dering. Presently she came nearer to him.
" Thou dost not hate me, Barabbas? Or fear me?"
He looked at her fixedly.
" What the ' Nazarene' hath blessed, that I can neither hate
nor fear !"
218 BARABBAS
A lovely smile irradiated her face, and her watchful regard
of him was like that of some meditative angel.
" Thou callest Him the ' Nazarene' as others do," she said
" because He came from Nazareth. Nevertheless He was
a God He is a God ! Knowest thou they say that He will
rise again ? but I believe not this. Truly His spirit may
arise ; but we shall never see Him more as we have seen Him.
And that is why last night I wept when they laid His fair body
in the tomb, the body cannot rise, I said, and though as pod-
like Spirit He will pass to Heaven, as Man He will appear no
more to us. This is the bitterness of death ; we never see
our loved ones as we knew them, in Hea^n theinfaces will be
strange !"
She paused, then went on
" Tell me, Barabbas, of thy grief, for grief thou hast most
visibly. I know of Judas and his death, is it for him thou
sorrowest?"
He met her earnest gaze for a moment in silence, then
moved by an impulse of confidence, told her of Judith's sudden
disappearance.
Mary listened attentively.
" 1 know her well by sight" she said " A fair proud girl,
beauteous and scornful ; once she did gather up her robes in
haste lest I should brush against them passing her. Thou
lovost her, Barabbas?"
He flushed and turned his head aside.
" I have loved her !" he answered.
" Doubtless she is all that is most perfect in a woman ?"
murmured Mary, half questioningly, half sadly, " Chaste,
holy, innocent and true?"
Her words stung him with keen agony.
" Would that she were !" he exclaimed wildly " But I will
not lie to thee. She is nothing! She hath been seized by
devils, such devils as did once move . . . Magdalen 1"
She started, turning very pale.
" Alas, Barabbas !" she said " Then is she most unhappy
and in far worse plight than thou ! I will aid thec in thy
search, it may be she hath wandered far beyond the city pre-
cincts. Hast thou been to Gethsemane, where her brother
died?"
" Not yet" he responded wearily " I will go thither now.
Where have they buried the ' Nazarene' ?"
She pointed towards the west.
A DREAM Of THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY 219
" Yonder, near Calvary" sbo said " In the sepulchre of
Joseph of Ariiuathea, between two barren hills. If thou
goest, thou wilt fiud it guarded. Caiaphas hath set a watch."
Barabbas shuddered at the name.
" Caiaphas !" he muttered between his set teeth " Always
Caiaphas !" And yet he could not bring himself to speak
of Judith in connection with the high-priest,
