AT THE PALACE OF THE HIGH PRIEST.
"It is well that by the blessing of Jehovah thou hast recovered thy
health, my son, for though we have accomplished the death of the
blasphemer, there yet remains the rabble of his followers. With the
trunk of the poisonous vine we must also thoroughly burn the branches
lest they bud anew."
"Thou hast the tongue of wisdom," said Caiaphas in a tone of dull
indifference, his eyes fixed vacantly on the range of blue hills at the
verge of the horizon.
Annas glanced impatiently at the white worn face. "They are already
spreading reports both in Jerusalem and in all Galilee that the man is
alive again, that, forsooth, he has been seen of them. The temple
resounds daily to the voice of their noisome praises and thanksgivings.
I have counseled that they be thrust out," he continued frowning, "for
what is it else than blasphemy--lies. It cannot be true!" And the
speaker started to his feet, and began to pace up and down the terrace
of the roof garden. "The Sanhedrim seems satisfied that nothing will
come of it," he went on angrily. "'Let be,' say they, 'the thing will
die even as the man.' Pah! they are blind. Look you! here are the
facts. The man's body disappears on the third day after the
crucifixion, the Roman guards tell a drunken tale of earthquake and the
appearance of an angel with a sword; lies, all lies! That I have
managed--gold worketh wonders; they know now that they were drunken, and
that his disciples stole the body away while they slept. So far, well.
Then there is the matter of the rent veil before the Holy of Holies; a
sore mischance, the fabric had been eaten of insects, there is no
question of it, how else should it----"
"Who saw the thing done?" interrupted Caiaphas in a hollow tone.
"A half score of priests who were preparing the altar for the evening
sacrifice. It was rent with a loud noise, say they, and the Holiest
place revealed on a sudden. I have counseled that they hold their
peace; it may be that they also are apostate, but I dare not take the
steps that I would in the matter because of the people. Of one thing I
am certain, the man is dead; in that have we triumphed. I saw him die,
and he is as assuredly perished as are the wretched malefactors that
groaned that day on either side of his cross."
The face of Caiaphas blanched to the livid color of death. "Say no
more," he gasped huskily, "I am not well."
Annas stared at him for an instant with something like contempt. "I
will call a servant," he said at length. "Thou shouldst drink wine to
strengthen thy heart."
"The man is strangely wrought upon by this thing," he thought within
himself as he strode away. "He is like to a rope of sand; I must not
look to him for help. Who is there then of stout heart and good
courage? Issachar--Johanan--Alexander? they all be like wax which the
sun hath melted. Stay! there is the young Saul of Tarsus, a Pharisee of
the Pharisees, and zealous for the upbuilding of Israel; I will even
dispatch a swift messenger for him. He will be an instrument of wrath
in mine hand against the enemies of the Lord Jehovah."
As the sound of his footsteps died away, the sick man raised his head.
"Begone!" he said with an irritable gesture to the servant who stood
awaiting his pleasure. "Call my wife."
Even as he spoke, the heavy curtains which hung over the doorway near at
hand, parted, and the figure of a woman emerged onto the terrace.
"Where hast thou been?" said the invalid, fixing his sunken eyes angrily
upon her. "Dost thou not know that I cannot abide that clumsy hind,
Barak. Where is my cordial?"
"Here, my lord," said Anna soothingly, pouring a few drops of some
bright-colored liquid into a cup. Her slender hand trembled so
violently as she did this that a portion of the contents was spilled,
and lay a crimson pool between them on the white marble of the pavement.
The sick man shrank back among his pillows, his eyes starting from his
head. "Ay! there it is again!" he muttered, huskily. "Blood,
blood--the blood of the Nazarene! I shall always see it. Look!" he
shrieked, "it is crawling towards me!"
The woman sprang forward, her face colorless. "It is nothing!" she said,
breathlessly, "nothing, my lord! See! it is gone. Come, drink the
cordial, after that thou shalt rest; thou art weary."
Caiaphas looked into the cup. "It is blood," he said, shudderingly,
"yet must I drink it; God is just!" Then he lay back among his pillows
once more, his eyes closed. After a time a faint color crept into his
livid face.
The woman watched him patiently for a full hour, more than once her pale
lips moving as if in prayer. From her dark eyes there seemed to stream
forth a visible radiance of love which brooded in silent blessing over
the helpless form at her side.
At length the sick man stirred a little, his eyes unclosed. "Has it
been told thee what hath befallen our son?" he said, slowly and clearly.
The woman bowed her head. "It hath been told me," she whispered
brokenly, "that his life was ended even as----"
"He was crucified," said Caiaphas, still in the same slow, clear tone,
"even as was the Nazarene. God is just. Blood for blood, it is the law,
and hath been from the beginning."
"God is also love," said Anna, looking fearfully into her husband's
face.
He returned the look with one of full intelligence. "Do not fear," he
said, gently, "it is best that the matter hath been spoken between us;
it were like an open grave else. The madness hath passed from my brain
now, and I see---" He paused, and so terrible a look came over his face
that his wife cried out faintly.
"God is love," she repeated in a low voice, wringing her hands; "He will
forgive. How couldst thou know that the Nazarene was the Anointed One?
Yet, even he said, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they
do!' as they drove the nails into his hands."
"Woman!" said Caiaphas, with something of his old high-priestly
authority, "hold thy peace, and forget that thou hast spoken blasphemy.
Didst think then that I--I--the High Priest, was ready to confess that
the Nazarene was the Messiah of Israel! I am ready to confess that he
was an innocent man; and I am blood-guilty in that I brought about his
death. God hath punished me by slaying my son, even as he punished
David for his sin. After this once we will speak of the thing no more;
it shall never again be named between us. Nor shall it be made known to
any other. It were not meet that so shameful a thing be bruited about
concerning the High Priest. Our flesh and blood is accursed."
The mother's face flushed hotly. "The lad was innocent!" she cried.
"He was sinned against most foully, but he himself sinned not. He is in
Paradise, for he hath the word of the Lord."
"What meanest thou? Who told thee concerning the thing?" said Caiaphas,
raising himself up and fixing his burning eyes upon her face.
"I had it from a lad named Stephen, who was even as a brother to him who
was our son--Titus, he was called. As he hung upon the cross in agony,
the Lord spake to him and said, 'This day shalt thou be with me in
Paradise.'"
"Who is this Stephen?" said Caiaphas, in a low, terrible voice. "And
whom dost thou call Lord?"
Anna trembled with terror, she tried to speak, but the words died upon
her lips.
"Speak, woman!"
"Stephen is--the son of the Greek who took our child. The man hath been
punished for his sin. He also perished with the Lord."
There was an awful silence. Then Caiaphas again spoke, and his voice
was as the voice of a stranger in the ears of Anna. "This Stephen, the
son of the malefactor, doth he still live?"
"He--lives; but, oh my husband, I beseech thee--do not harm him, so
innocent, so heavenly a one!"
But through the words of her entreaty sounded the inexorable tones of
the High Priest's voice.
"Blood for blood! The iniquities of the fathers shall be visited upon
the children, even unto the third and fourth generations. It is the
law."