'And how have you obtained possession of it to-night?'
'He had placed it under his pillow; I profited by his sleep, and I am come.'
'I have suffered much more of shame than of pain,' continued Genevieve, overcome by the grief of her mistress; 'but your kind words console me!'
'Listen, Genevieve, I am not here simply to console you; you can fly from this house and render a great service to the young man of Nazareth, perhaps even save his life.'
'What say you, my dear mistress?' exclaimed Genevieve; thinking less of her liberty than of the service she might render to the Nazarene.
'Oh! speak; my life, if necessary, for him who said that "one day the chains of the slave shall be broken!"'
'Since the night we passed listening to the predictions of Jesus, Jane and I have not met; the Seigneur Chusa had prevented her from leaving her house to come here; to-night, however, yielding to her prayer, he brought her here, and whilst he was conversing with my husband, do you know what Jane told me?'
'About the young man of Nazareth?'
'Yes.'
'Alas! some new persecution!'
'He is betrayed! They will arrest him this very night, and kill him!'
'Betrayed! he! and by whom?'
'By one of his disciples.'
'Ah! the infamous wretch!'
'Then Chusa, already triumphing in the death of this poor Nazarene, has revealed every thing this evening toJane, to enjoy maliciously the affliction this sad news will cause her; this then is what passed; the pharisees, doctors of law, senators, and high priests, all exasperated by the last (those we heard), assembled at the house of the high priest Caiphus, and sought for means to surprise the Nazarene; but fearing a popular rising if they arrested him yesterday, a holiday in Jerusalem, they have deferred till to-night the execution of their wicked designs.'
'What! to-night? This very night?'
'Yes, a traitor, one of his disciples, named Judas, is to betray him into their hands.'
'One of those who, the other night, accompanied him to the tavern of the "Wild Ass."'
'The one whose gloomy and treacherous figure you remarked. Judas then went to the high priests and the doctors of law, and said to them: "Give me money, and I will deliver the Nazarene to you."'
'The wretch!'
'He has agreed for thirty pieces of silver from the pharisees; and at the present moment perhaps the poor young man, who suspects nothing, is a victim of the treason.'
'Alas! if such is the case, what service can I render him?'
'Listen again, this is what Jane said to me to-night: "It was whilst repairing to your house, dear Aurelia, that my husband informed me, with a cruel joy, of the evil with which Jesus is threatened. Knowing that, watched as I am, I have no means of warning him, for our servants so much fear the Seigneur Chusa, that despite my prayers and offers of gold, none dared leave the houseto find Jesus and apprise him of the danger; besides, the night advances, an idea struck me; your slave Genevieve appears to have as much courage as devotedness. Could she not serve us on this occasion?"
'I immediately informed Jane of the cruel vengeance that my husband had exercised towards you; but Jane, far from renouncing her project, asked me where Gremion placed the key of the prison: "Under his pillow," I answered her.'
'Endeavor to take it whilst he sleeps,' said Jane to me. 'If you succeed in getting possession of it, go and release Genevieve; it will be easy for you afterwards to get her out of the house; she will soon arrive at the tavern of the 'Wild Ass,' and there, perhaps, they will tell her where the young man may be found.'
'Oh! dear mistress!' exclaimed Genevieve, 'I shall never forget the confidence you and your friend place in me; try at once to open the door of the prison.'
'Wait a moment, for before deciding we must think of the rage of my husband. It is not for myself I fear, but for you. When you return here, poor Genevieve, judge from what you have suffered what you will still have to suffer!'
'Think not of me!'
'We have thought of it, on the contrary. Listen again: the nurse of my friend lives near the Judicial gate; she sells woolen cloths and her name is Veronica, the wife of Samuel: shall you remember these names?'
'Yes, yes, Veronica, wife of Samuel, cloth vendor, near the Judicial gate. But, dear mistress, let us haste, the hour advances; every hour lost might be fatal to theyoung man. Oh! I entreat you, try to open the street door.'
'No, not at least until I have told you where you may find refuge; it will be impossible for you to return here, for I tremble at the treatment to which my husband would subject you.'
'What! quit you forever?'
'Would you rather submit to an infamous punishment again, and perhaps worse tortures?'
'I would much rather prefer death to such disgrace!'
'My husband will not kill you because you are worth money. This separation is therefore indispensable; it costs me dear, because never, perhaps, shall I find a slave in whom I have such confidence as you; but what would you? Since I have listened to the words of this young man, I share the enthusiasm he has inspired in Jane; and will try to save him....'
'Can you doubt it, dear mistress?'
'No, I know your devotedness and your courage. This, then, is what you must do; if you succeed in finding the young man of Nazareth, you will apprise him that he is betrayed by Judas, one of his disciples, and that he has only to fly from Jerusalem to escape the pharisees; they have sworn his death! Jane thinks that by retiring to Galilee, his native country, Mary's son will be saved, for his cowardly enemies would not dare to follow him there.'
'But, dear mistress, even here, at Jerusalem, he has only to-night to call the people to his defence, his disciples, by whom he is adored, will put themselves at thehead of the revolt, and all the pharisees in the world would not be able to arrest him!'
'Jane had also thought of this plan; but that he might raise the people in his favor, either Jesus or his disciples must be apprised of the danger which menaces him.'
'Consequently, dear mistress, we have not a moment to lose.'
'Listen once more, poor Genevieve: you forget the perils that surround you! When, therefore, you have warned the young man, or one of his disciples, you will repair to Veronica's, Samuel's wife; you will tell her that you came from Jane, and as a proof of the truth you will give her this ring, which my friend drew from her finger; you will beg Veronica to conceal you in her house, and go immediately to Jane's, who will instruct her as to what she and I intend doing for you.
'Veronica,' said my friend to me, 'is kind and obliging; to the young Nazarene she and her husband owe a debt of gratitude, because he cured one of their children; you will therefore be safely concealed in their house until Jane and I have decided upon something respecting you. This is not all, in this packet I have brought your disguise as a young man, which I have just taken from the room in which you sleep; it will be more prudent to put on these garments of a man. It will be safer whilst running about the streets of Jerusalem at night and entering the tavern of the Wild Ass.'
'Dear, dear mistress, always kind, you think of all.'
'Hasten to dress yourself. In the mean time, I will go and see if it is possible to open the street door.'
Aurelia, having quitted the low room, returned in a few minutes and found Genevieve dressed as a young man and buckling the leather belt of her tunic.
'It is impossible to open the door!' said Aurelia in despair to her slave; 'the key is not within the lock where it is usually left.'
'Dear mistress, come,' said Genevieve, 'let us try again. Come, quick.'
And the two, after crossing the court, arrived at the street door. The efforts of Genevieve were as vain as those of her mistress had been to open it. She had surmounted one of the half arches, but without a ladder it was impossible to reach the opening. Suddenly Genevieve remarked to Aurelia:
'I have read in the family narratives left by Fergan, that one of his ancestresses, named Meroe, the wife of a sailor, had, by the help of her husband, been enabled to mount a high tree.'
'By what means?'
'Just lean your back against this door, dear mistress; now, enlace your two hands in such a way that I can place my foot in their hollow; I will next place the other on your shoulder, and perhaps thus I shall be enabled to reach the arch, and from thence I will endeavor to descend into the street.'
Suddenly the slave heard at a distance the voice of Seigneur Gremion from the upper story, call out in an angry tone:
'Aurelia! Aurelia!'
'My husband,' exclaimed the young wife trembling.
'Oh! Genevieve, you are lost!'
'Your hands! your hands! dear mistress; if I can only reach to this opening, I am saved.'
Aurelia obeyed almost mechanically, for the menacing voice of the Seigneur Gremion drew nearer and nearer.
The slave, after having placed one of her feet in the hollow of the two hands of her mistress, rested her other foot lightly on her shoulder, thus reached the opening, contrived to place herself on the thickness of the wall, and rested for a few moments kneeling under the half arch.
'But in jumping into the street,' suddenly exclaimed Aurelia in fear, 'you will hurt yourself, poor Genevieve.'
At this moment arrived the Seigneur Gremion, pale, enraged, and holding a lamp in his hand.
'What are you doing there?' he cried, addressing his wife; 'reply! reply!'
Then perceiving the slave kneeling above the door, he added:
'Ah! wretch! you would escape, and ‘tis my wife who favors your flight?'
'Yes,' replied Aurelia courageously, 'yes; and should you kill me on the spot, she shall escape your ill treatment.'
Genevieve, after looking down into the street from the elevation where she had crept, saw that she would have to jump twice her own length; she hesitated a moment, but hearing the Seigneur Gremion say to his wife, whom he had brutally shook by the arm to make her abandon the chain of the door to which she had clung:
'By Hercules! will you let me pass? oh! I will get outside and wait for your miserable slave, and if she does not break her limbs in jumping into the street, I will break her bones!'
'Try to get down and save yourself, Genevieve,' cried Aurelia; 'fear nothing, they shall trample me under foot before I open the door—'
Genevieve raised her eyes to heaven to invoke the gods, jumped from the arch above the door and was lucky enough to reach the ground without hurting herself. She remained however for a moment, stunned by the fall; she then rose up hastily and took to flight, her heart beating at the cries she heard proceeding from her mistress, who was being ill treated by her husband.
The slave, after running some way to get beyond her master's house, stopped, breathless, to consider in what direction was situated the tavern of the Wild Ass, where she hoped to hear of the young man of Nazareth, whom she wished to warn of the danger that menaced him. At this tavern she learnt that some hours before he had gone, with several of his disciples, towards the river Cedron, to a garden planted with olive trees, where he often repaired at night to meditate and pray.
Genevieve ran hastily to this place. The moment she had passed the gate of the city, she saw in the distance the light of several torches reflected on the helmets and armor of a great number of soldiers; they marched in disorder and uttered confused clamors.
The slave, fearing that they were sent by the pharisees to seize the Nazarene, commenced running in the hope of getting before them, perhaps, and in time to give thealarm to Jesus, or to his disciples. She was but a short distance from these armed men, whom she recognized as the Jerusalem militia, but little renowned for their courage, when by the glare of the torches they carried she noticed, away from the road but following the same direction, a narrow path bordered with firs. She took this road that she might not be seen by the soldiers, at the head of whom she observed Judas, the disciple of the young man whom she had seen at the tavern of the Wild Ass one of the preceding nights. He was then saying to the officer of the men, who commanded the escort:
'Seigneur, he whom you see me embrace will be the Nazarene.'
'Oh! this time,' replied the officer, 'he shall not escape us; and to-morrow, before sunset, the rebel will have suffered the punishment due to his crimes. Let us hasten, let us hasten; some of his disciples might have given him notice of our arrival. Let us also be very prudent, for fear of falling into an ambush, and let us also be very prudent when we are on the point of seizing the Nazarene: he might employ against us magical and diabolical ways. If I recommend prudence to you,' added the officer to his men, in a valorous tone, '‘tis not that I fear danger, but ‘tis to secure the success of our enterprise.'
The soldiers did not appear greatly reassured by these words of their officer and slackened their march, from a fear, no doubt, of some ambush.—Genevieve profited by this circumstance and, still running, she arrived at the borders of the river of Cedron. Not far from thence she perceived a small hill, planted with olives; this wood,buried in the shade, was scarcely distinguishable from the darkness of the night. She listened, all was silent; nothing was heard but the measured tread of the soldiers as they slowly approached. Genevieve had a momentary hope, thinking that, perhaps, the young man of Nazareth, warned in time, had quitted this place. She advanced cautiously in the obscurity, when she stumbled against the body of a man stretched beneath an olive tree. She could not restrain a cry of fear, whilst the man against whom she had stumbled suddenly awoke and said: 'Master, pardon me but this time again; I could not overcome the sleep that invaded me.'
'A disciple of Jesus!' exclaimed the slave, once more alarmed. 'He is here, then?'
Then addressing the man: 'Since you are a disciple of Jesus, save him: there is still time. See those torches in the distance; listen to the confused murmurs! They approach; they will take him, they will kill him. Save him, save him, oh, save him!'
'Who,' inquired the disciple, still half unconscious with sleep; 'who is it they would kill? Who are you?'
'No matter to you who I am; but save your master, I tell you: they are coming to seize him. The soldiers advance. See you those torches yonder?'
'Yes,' replied the disciple in a surprised and alarmed tone and now completely waking up: 'I see in the distance some helmets, sparkling from the light of the torches. But,' he added, looking round, 'where are my companions, then?'
'Asleep, like yourself, perhaps,' replied Genevieve. 'And you have not strength enough to resist sleep?'
'No, I and my companions struggled in vain; our master came twice to awake us, mildly reproaching us for thus sleeping. He then went once more to meditate and pray under the trees.'
'The militia men!' exclaimed Genevieve on seeing the light of the torches approaching nearer and nearer. 'They are here! He is lost, unless he remains concealed in the wood, or that you all die to defend him. Are you armed?'
'We have no arms!' replied the disciple, beginning to tremble; 'and besides, to try to resist soldiers, ‘tis madness!'
'No arms!' exclaimed Genevieve, very indignant. 'Is there any need of arms? Are not the stones in the road? Is not courage sufficient to crush these men?'
'We are not men of the sword,' said the disciple, looking round him with uneasiness, for the soldiers were already near enough for their torches to throw a light on Genevieve, the disciple and several of his companions, whom she then perceived, here and there, still asleep under the trees. They suddenly awoke at the voice of their comrade, who called them, going from one to the other.
The soldiers hastened in a tumult, seeing, from the light of the torches, several men; some still reclining, others rising, others again on their feet, rushed upon them, menacing them with their swords and sticks, for some were only armed with sticks, and all cried out:
'Where is the Nazarene? Tell us, Judas, where is he?'
The traitor, and infamous disciple, after having examined by the light of the torches his ancient companions, detained prisoners, said to the officer:
'The young master is not amongst these.'
'Will he escape us this time?' exclaimed the officer.
'By the pillars of the temple! you promised to deliver him to us, Judas: you have received the price of his blood; you must deliver him to us, Judas!'
Genevieve had kept aloof; suddenly she saw a few paces off, towards the olive wood, a white form, which issuing from the darkness, approached slowly towards the soldiers. The heart of Genevieve almost broke; it was no doubt the young Nazarene, attracted by the noise of the tumult.—She was not deceived. Presently she recognized Jesus; on his sad and gentle features she read neither fear nor surprise.
Judas made a sign of intelligence to the officer, ran to meet the young man of Nazareth, and said, whilst embracing him,
'Master, I kiss you.'
At these words one of the soldiers who were not occupied in detaining as prisoners the disciples, who in vain endeavored to fly, remembering the recommendations of their officer respecting the infernal sorceries that Jesus might employ against them, regarded him with fear, hesitating to approach in order to seize him; the officer himself kept behind the soldiers in order to excite them to seize Jesus, but did not approach him himself. Jesus, calm and thoughtful, made a few steps towards the armed men and said to them in his gentle voice:
'Whom seek you?'
'We seek Jesus,' replied the officer, still keeping behind his soldiers:
'We seek Jesus of Nazareth.'
'I am he!' said the Nazarene, making a step towards the soldiers. But the latter drew back frightened.
Jesus resumed: 'Once more, whom is it you seek?'
'Jesus of Nazareth!' they all cried with one voice; 'we wish to take Jesus of Nazareth!' and they again drew back.
'I have already told you that I am he,' replied the young man, going to them; 'and since you seek me, take me, but allow these to go,' he added, pointing to his disciples still retained as prisoners.
The officer made a sign to the soldiers who did not seem as yet completely reassured; they approached Jesus, however, to bind him, whilst he said to them mildly: 'You came here armed with swords and sticks to take me, as if I were a malefactor, and yet, I sat amidst you every day in the temple, praying, and you did not arrest me.'
Then, of himself, he tendered his hands to the cords with which they bound him. The cowardly disciples of the young man had not had the courage to defend him; they dared not even accompany him to his prison; and the moment they were released by the soldiers, they fled on all sides. A mournful smile crossed the lips of Jesus, when he found himself thus betrayed and abandoned by those he had so loved, and whom he believed his friends.
Genevieve, hidden by the shade of an olive tree, could not restrain tears of grief and indignation on seeingthese men so miserably abandon Jesus; she comprehended why the doctors of the law and the high priests, instead of arresting him in open day, had arrested him during the night; they feared the rage of the people and of the resolute men like Banaias; these would not have allowed him to be carried off without resistance, the friend of the poor and the afflicted.
The soldiers quitted the olive wood, having their prisoner in the midst of them; they directed their steps towards the town.
After some time Genevieve perceived that a man, whose features she could not distinguish in the darkness, was walking behind her, and she frequently heard the man sigh and sob.
After entering Jerusalem through the deserted and silent streets, as they are at that hour of the night, the soldiers repaired to the house of Caiphus, the high priest, where they conducted Jesus. The slave, remarking at the door of this house a great many servants, glided among them as the soldiers entered, and remained at first beneath the vestibule lighted by torches. By this light she recognized the man who, like herself, had followed the friend of the oppressed since he left the wood; it was Peter, one of his disciples. He appeared as much grieved as alarmed, the tears streaming down his face; Genevieve thought at first that one at least of his disciples would be faithful to him and he would show his devotedness by accompanying Jesus before the tribunal of Caiphus. Alas! the slave was deceived. Scarcely had Peter crossed the threshold of the door, when, instead of joining Mary's son, he sat down on one of the benchesof the vestibule, amongst the servants of Caiphus, burying his face in his hands.
Genevieve then seeing, at the extremity of the court, a strong light escaping from a door beyond which pressed the soldiers of the escort, approached them. The door was that of a hall in the middle of which was erected a tribunal lighted by a number of flambeaux. Seated behind this tribunal, she recognized several of the persons she had seen at the supper given by Pontius Pilate; the Seigneurs Caiphus, the high priest; Baruch, doctor of law; Jonas, the banker, were among the judges of the young man of Nazareth. He was conducted before them; his hands bound, his features still calm, gentle and sad; a short distance from him were the officers of the court, and behind these, mixed with the soldiers and the servants of Caiphus, the two mysterious emissaries whom Genevieve had remarked at the tavern of the Wild Ass. Inasmuch as the countenance of the friend of the afflicted was serene and dignified, so did those of his judges appear violently irritated; they expressed the joy of a disgraceful triumph; they spoke in a low tone and from time to time they pointed with a menacing gesture to Mary's son, who patiently awaited his interrogatory.
Genevieve, confounded among those who filled the hall, heard them say to one another:
'He is at last taken, then, this Nazarene, who preached revolt!'
'Oh! he is less haughty now than when he was at the head of his troop of vagabonds and abandoned women!'
'He preaches against the rich,' said a servant of thehigh priest; 'he commands the renunciation of riches; but if our masters were to keep poor cheer, we servants should be reduced to the lot of hungry beggars, instead of fattening on the many feasts given by our masters.'
'And this is not all,' said another; 'if we listened to this cursed Nazarene, our masters, voluntarily impoverished, would denounce all pleasures; they would not throw away every day superb robes or tunics because the embroidery or color of these garments did not please them. Now, who profits by these caprices of our ostentatious masters, unless ourselves, since tunics and robes all fall to our share?'
'And if our masters renounced pleasures, to live on fasting and prayer, they would have no more gay mistresses, they would no longer charge us with those amorous commissions, recompensed magnificently in case of success!'
'Yes, yes,' they all cried together; 'death to the Nazarene who would make of us, who live in idleness, abundance and gaiety, beggars or beasts of burthen!'
Genevieve heard many other remarks, spoken half aloud and menacing for the life of Jesus; one of the two mysterious emissaries, behind whom she stood, said to his companion: 'Our evidence will now suffice to condemn this cursed fellow; I have come to an understanding with Caiphus.'
At this moment one of the officers of the high priest, placed by the side of the Nazarene and charged to watch him, struck with his mace on the floor of the hall; immediately there was a dead silence. Then Caiphus,after a few words exchanged in a low voice with the other pharisees composing the tribunal, said to those assembled: 'Who are they who can depose here against the man called Jesus of Nazareth?'
One of the two emissaries advanced to the foot of the tribunal and said in a solemn voice:
'I swear having heard this man affirm that the high priests and doctors of the law were all hypocrites, and that he treated them as a race of serpents and vipers!'
A murmur of indignation rose from the soldiers and servants of the priests, the judges looked at one another, appearing to ask each other if it were possible that such words could have been pronounced. The other emissary approached near his companion and added in a voice not less solemn:
'I swear having heard this man affirm that they must revolt against Prince Herod and against the Emperor Tiberius, the august protector of Israel, in order to proclaim Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews.'
While a smile of pity crossed the lips of Mary's son at these false accusations, since he had said: 'Render unto Cæsar that which is Cæsar's, and unto God that which is God's!' the pharisees of the tribunal lifted up their hands to heaven as if to invoke it as a witness of such enormities. One of the high priest's servants, advancing in his turn, said to the judges:
'I swear having heard this man say, that they must massacre all the pharisees, pillage their houses and violate their wives and daughters!'
A fresh movement of horror manifested itself amongstthe judges and those of the auditory who were devoted to them.
'Pillage! massacre! and violation!' exclaimed some.
'Such is the object of the Nazarene! ‘Tis for this he drags after him this band of wretches.'
'He would some day, at their head, give up Jerusalem to fire, pillage and blood!'
The high priest Caiphus, president of the tribunal, signed to one of the officers to demand silence; the officer again struck the floor with his mace, all were silent. Caiphus, addressing the young Nazarene in a menacing voice, said to him:
'Why do you not reply to what these persons depose against you?'
Jesus said to him in an accent full of gentleness and dignity:
'I have spoken publicly to every one; I have always taught in the temple and in the synagogue in which all the Jews were assembled; I have said nothing in secret, why, then, do you question me? Question those who have heard me, to ascertain what I have said to them: these know what I have taught.'
Scarce had he spoken these words when Genevieve saw one of the officers, furious at this reply, so just and so calm, raise his hand against Jesus and strike him in the face, exclaiming:
'Is it thus you reply to the high priest?'
At this infamous outrage, to strike a man bound, Genevieve felt her heart leap, her tears stream, whilst on the contrary, loud bursts of laughter rose from amidst the soldiers and servants of the high priest.
Jesus still remained placid, but he turned to the officer and said to him mildly:
'If I have spoken evil show me the evil I have done; but if I have spoken well, why strikest thou me?'
These words and his angelic sweetness did not disarm the persecutors of the young man; coarse laughter again burst from the hall and the insults recommenced on all sides.
'Oh! the Nazarene, the man of peace, the enemy of war, does not belie himself; he is a coward and allows himself to be struck in the face.'
'Call your disciples, then; let them come and avenge you if you have not the courage.'
'His disciples,' said one of the soldiers who had arrested Jesus. 'His disciples! ah! if you had but seen them! At sight of our lances and our torches the vagabonds fled like a flight of owls!'
'They were glad enough to escape the tyranny of the Nazarene, who kept them near him by magic!'
'As a proof that they hate and despise him, not one dared accompany him hither.'
'Oh!' thought Genevieve, 'how Jesus must suffer from this base ingratitude of his friends! It must be more cruel than the outrages of which he is the object.' And turning her head towards the street door, she saw at a distance Peter, still seated on a bench, his face hidden in his hands and not having even the courage to assist and defend his kind master before this tribunal of blood. The tumult produced by the violence of the officer being somewhat appeased, one of the emissaries continued in a loud voice:
'I swear, lastly, that this man has horribly blasphemed by saying that he is Christ, the son of God!'
Then Caiphus, addressing Jesus, said to him in a tone still more menacing: 'You reply nothing to what these persons say of you?'
But the young man only shrugged his shoulders and still continued silent. This irritated Caiphus, he rose from his seat and exclaimed, pointing with his finger to the son of Mary: 'On the part of the living God, I order you to tell us if you are the Christ, the son of God.'
'You have said it, I am,' replied the young man smiling.
Genevieve had heard Jesus say, that like all men, his brothers, he was a son of God; just as the Druids teach that all men are sons of the same God. What then was the surprise of the slave, when she saw the high priest, when Jesus had replied that he was the son of God, rise up and tear his robe with all the appearance of horror and alarm, exclaiming, addressing the members of the tribunal:
'He has blasphemed; what need have we of more witnesses? You, yourselves, have heard him blaspheme, how do you judge him?'
'He deserves death!'
Such was the reply of all the judges of this court of inquiry. But the voices of Doctor Baruch and of the banker Jonas rose above every other; they cried out, striking with their fist the marble table of the tribunal:
'Death for the Nazarene! He has deserved death!'
'Yes! yes!' cried all the soldiers and the servants of the high priest, 'he has deserved death!'
'To death with the cursed blasphemer!'
'Conduct this criminal instantly before the Seigneur Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea, for the Emperor Tiberius,' said Caiphus to the soldiers; 'he alone can give orders to put the condemned to death.'
At these words of the high priest they dragged Jesus from the house of Caiphus to take him before Pontius Pilate. Genevieve, confounded with the servants, followed the soldiers. On passing the door she saw Peter, the cowardly disciple of Jesus (the least cowardly of all, however, she thought, since alone, he had at least followed him there), she saw Peter turn away his eyes, when Jesus seeking for a look from his disciple, passed before him, conducted by the soldiers. One of the female servants recognising Peter said to him:
'You, too, were with Jesus the Galilean?'
But Peter, reddening and casting down his eyes, replied:
'I know not what you say.'
Another servant, hearing Peter's reply, said, pointing him out to the bystanders:
'I tell you that this one was also with Jesus of Nazareth!'
'I swear,' exclaimed Peter, 'I swear that I know not Jesus of Nazareth!'
Genevieve's heart heaved with indignation and disgust. This Peter, by a base weakness, or for fear of sharing the fate of his master, denying him twice and perjuring himself, for this indignity was in her eyes the worst of men: more than ever she pitied Mary's son for having beenbetrayed, given up, abandoned, and denied by those whom he so much loved.
She thus explained to herself the painful sadness she had remarked on his features. A great mind like this could not fear death, but despair at the ingratitude of those whom he thought his dearest friends.
The slave quitted the house of the high priest, where Peter the renegade remained, and soon rejoined the soldiers who were leading away Jesus. The day began to break, several mendicants and vagabonds who had slept on the benches placed on each side of the door of the houses, awoke at the noise of the soldiers who were leading away Jesus. Genevieve hoped for a moment that these poor people who followed him everywhere, would call him their friend, whose misfortunes he so kindly pitied, would apprise their companions and assemble them to release Jesus; consequently she said to one of these men:
'Know you not that these soldiers are leading away the young man of Nazareth, the friend of the poor and afflicted? They would kill him; hasten to defend him; release him; raise the people. These soldiers of Jerusalem will fly perhaps, but the soldiers of Pontius Pilate are tougher; they have good lances, thick cuirasses, and well tempered swords.'
'What could we attempt?'
'Why you can rise in a mass; you can arm yourselves with stones, with sticks!' exclaimed Genevieve, 'and at least you can die to avenge him who has consecrated his life to your cause!'
The beggar shook his head and replied whilst one of his companions approached him:
'Wretched as life may be, we cling to it, and ‘tis running to meet death if we stake our rags against the cuirasses of the Roman soldiers.'
'And then,' said another vagabond, 'if Jesus of Nazareth is a Messiah, as so many others have been before him, and so many others will be after him, ‘tis a misfortune if they kill him; but Messiahs are never wanting in Israel.'
'And if they put him to death!' said Genevieve, 'it is because he has loved you; it is because he pitied your wretchedness; it is because he has shamed the rich for their hypocrisy and their hardness of heart towards those who suffer!'
'It is true; he constantly predicted for us the kingdom of God on earth,' replied the vagabond again, reclining on his bench, as also his companion, to warm themselves by the rays of the morning sun; 'yet these fine days he promised us do not arrive, and we are just as poor to-day as we were yesterday.'
'Eh! and what tells you that these fine days, promised by him, will not arrive to-morrow?' continued Genevieve; 'does not the harvest require time to take root, to grow, and to ripen? Poor, blind and impatient that you are, recollect that to leave him to die, whom you call your friend, before he has fertilized the good seeds he has sown in so many hearts, is to trample under foot, is to destroy whilst yet only grass, a harvest perhaps magnificent.'
The two vagabonds remained silent, shaking theirheads, and Genevieve left them, saying to herself with profound grief:
'Shall I encounter, then, everywhere nothing but ingratitude, forgetfulness, treason and cowardice? Oh! it is not the body of Jesus that will be crucified, it will be his heart.'
The slave hastened to join the soldiers who were approaching the house of Pontius Pilate.—At the moment she doubled her pace, she remarked a sort of tumult amongst the Jerusalem militia, which suddenly stopped. She mounted on a bench and saw Banaias alone at the entrance of a narrow arcade which the soldiers had to cross to reach the governor's house, audaciously barring the passage, brandishing his long stick terminated by a knob of iron.
'Ah! this one at least does not abandon him he calls his friend!' thought Genevieve.
'By the shoulders of Samson!' cried Banaias in his loud voice, 'if you do not instantly set our friend at liberty, militia of Beelzebub! I'll beat you as dry as the flail beats the wheat on the barn floor! Ah! if I had but time to collect a band of companions as resolute as myself to defend our friend of Nazareth, ‘tis an order I would give you instead of a simple prayer, and this simple prayer I repeat: set our friend at liberty, or else by the jawbone used by Samson, I will destroy you all like he destroyed the Philistines!'
'Do you hear the wretch! he calls this audacious menace a prayer!' exclaimed the officer commanding the militia, who prudently kept himself in the middle of histroop; 'run your lances through the miserable; strike him with your swords if he does not make way for you!'
The Jerusalem militia was not a very valiant troop, for they had hesitated before arresting Jesus, who advanced towards them, alone and disarmed: so that, despite the orders of their chief, they remained a moment undecided before the menacing attitude of Banaias.
In vain did Jesus, whose firm and gentle voice was heard by Genevieve, endeavor to appease his defender, and entreat him to retire. Banaias resumed in a threatening tone, thus replying to the supplications of the young Nazarene:
'Do not trouble yourself about me, friend; you are a man of peace and quietness. I am a man of violence and battle, when the feeble are to be protected. Let me alone. I will stop these wicked soldiers here, until the noise of the tumult has apprised and brought my companions; and then, by the five hundred concubines of Solomon, who danced before him, you shall see these devils of the militia dance to the tune of our knobbed sticks, keeping time on their helmets and cuirasses.'
'How much longer will you suffer yourselves to be insulted by a single man, you cowardly dogs?' exclaimed the officer to his men.
'Oh! if I had not orders not to quit the Nazarene more than his shadow, I would set you an example, and my long sword should already have cut the throat of this brigand!'
'By Abraham's nose! ‘tis I who will rip open your belly, you who talk so big, and release my friend!' exclaimedBanaias. 'I am only one; but a falcon is worth much more than a hundred blackbirds.'
And Banaias fell on the soldiers of the militia, swaying about his redoubtable stick, despite the prayers of Jesus.
At first, surprised and shaken by so much audacity, some soldiers of the front rank of the escort gave way; but presently, ashamed at not resisting one man, they rallied, attacked Banaias in their turn, who, overcome by numbers, despite his heroic courage, fell dead, covered with wounds. Genevieve then saw the soldiers, in their rage, throw to the bottom of a well, near the arcade, the bleeding body of the only defender of Jesus. After this exploit, the officer, brandishing his long sword, placed himself at the head of his troop, and they arrived at the house of Pontius Pilate, where Genevieve had accompanied her mistress, Aurelia, a few days previous.
The sun was already high. Attracted by the noise of the struggle of Banaias with the soldiers, several inhabitants of Jerusalem, issuing from their houses, had followed the militia. The house of the Roman governor was in the richest quarters of the town. The persons who, from curiosity, accompanied Jesus, far from pitying him, loaded him with insults and hootings.
'At last, then,' cried some, 'the Nazarene, who brought so much trouble and confusion on our town, is taken!'
'The demagogue who set the beggars against princes! The impious! who blasphemed our holy religion! The audacious! who brought trouble into our families, praising the prodigal and debauched sons,' said one of the emissaries, who had followed the troop.
'The infamous! who would pervert our wives,' said theother emissary, 'by encouraging adultery, since he snatched one of these sinners from the punishment she deserved!'
'Thanks be to God!' added a money-changer, 'if this Nazarene is put to death, which will only be justice, we can then re-open our counters under the colonnade of the temple, whence this profaner and his band had driven us, and where we dared not return.'
'What fools we were to fear his assemblage of beggars!' added a dealer in merchandise.
'See if one of them has simply dared rebel to defend this Nazarene, by whose name they were always swearing, he whom they called their friend!'
'Let them finish with the brawler! Let him be crucified, and we shall hear no more of him!'
'Yes, yes, death to the Nazarene!' cried the people, amongst whom was Genevieve. And this assemblage still increasing, repeated, with greater fury, those fatal cries:
'Death to the Nazarene!'
'Alas!' said the slave to herself, 'is there a more horrible fate than that of this young man; abandoned by the poor, whom he befriended; hated by the rich, to whom he preached humility and charity! How deep must be the bitterness of his heart!'
The soldiers, followed by the crowd, had arrived opposite the house of Pilate.
Several high priests, doctors of law, senators, and other pharisees, among whom were Caiphus, Doctor Baruch, and the banker Jonas, had joined the troop and walked at its head. One of these pharisees having cried:
'Seigneurs, let us enter Pontius Pilate's that he may instantly condemn the cursed Nazarene to death!'
Caiphus replied with a pious air:
'My seigneurs, we cannot enter the house of a heathen: this stain would prevent our eating the passover to-day.'
'No!' added Doctor Baruch, 'we cannot commit this abominable impiety.'
'Only hear them!' said to the crowd one of the emissaries, with an accent of admiration.
'Do you hear the holy men? What respect they profess for the commandment of our holy religion! Ah! these are not like that impious Nazarene, who rails and blasphemes at the most sacred things, when he dares to declare that we need not observe the Sabbath!'
'Oh! the infamous hypocrites!' said Genevieve to herself: 'how well Jesus knew them; how much reason he had to unmask them. They now hesitate to enter the house of a heathen, for fear of soiling their sandals; but they do not fear to soil their soul by demanding from this heathen to shed the blood of the righteous, one of their compatriots. Ah! poor youth of Nazareth! they will make you pay with your life for the courage you have shown in attacking these rich swindlers.'
The officer of the militia having entered the palace of Pontius Pilate, whilst the escort remained outside guarding the prisoner, Genevieve mounted behind a cart stopped by the crowd, and endeavored to keep in sight the young man of Nazareth. She saw him standing in the midst of the soldiers, his long chestnut hair falling over his shoulders, his looks still calm and gentle, and a smile of resignation on his lips. He contemplated the tumultuousand threatening crowd with a sort of painful commiseration, as if he had pitied these men for their blindness and iniquity.
Insults were offered him on all sides. The soldiers themselves treated him with so much brutality that the blue mantle he wore over his white tunic was already almost torn from his back. Jesus, to so many outrages and ill treatment, opposed an unalterable placidity, and on his pale and handsome features Genevieve did not see the least impatience or the least anger betray itself. Suddenly these words were heard circulating through the crowd:
'Ah! here he comes, the Seigneur Pontius Pilate!'
'He will at length pronounce sentence of death against this cursed Nazarene.'
'Luckily ‘tis not far from hence to Golgotha, where they execute criminals; we can go and see him crucified!'
In fact, Genevieve soon saw the Governor, Pontius Pilate, appear at the door of his house; no doubt he had been just aroused from sleep, for he was enveloped in a long morning robe; his hair and beard were in disorder; his eyes, red and swollen, appeared dazzled at the rays of the rising sun; he could scarcely conceal several yawns, and seemed greatly annoyed at having been awakened so early, having, perhaps, as usual prolonged his supper until daybreak. So, addressing Doctor Baruch in a tone of harshness and ill-humor, like a person anxious to abridge an interview that was unpleasant, said to him:
'What is the crime of which you accuse this young man?'
'If he were not a malefactor, we should not have brought him to you.'
Pontius Pilate, annoyed at the short reply of Doctor Baruch, continued impatiently, and stifling another yawn:
'Well, since you say he has sinned against the law, take him; judge him according to your law.'
And the governor turned his back upon the Doctor, shrugging his shoulders, and re-entered his house.
For a moment Genevieve thought the young man saved, but the reply of Pontius Pilate produced much indignation amongst the crowd.
'Such are the Romans, then,' said some; 'they only seek to keep up agitation in our poor country, that they might rule it more easily.'
'This Pontius Pilate evidently appears to protect this cursed Nazarene!'
'As for me, I am certain the Nazarene is a secret agent of the Romans,' added one of the emissaries: 'they make use of this seditious vagabond for their dark projects.'
'There is no doubt of it,' added the other emissary; 'the Nazarene has sold himself to the Romans.'
At this last outrage, which seemed painful to Jesus, Genevieve saw him again lift up his eyes to heaven in a heart-rending manner, whilst the crowd repeated:
'Yes, yes, he is a traitor.'
'He is an agent of the Romans!'
'To death with the traitor! to death!'
Doctor Baruch was unwilling to lose his prey; he and several of the high priests, seeing Pontius Pilate entering his house, ran after him, and having supplicated him toreturn, they brought him outside, to the great applause of the crowd. Pontius Pilate appeared to continue, almost in spite of himself, the interrogatory; he said with impatience to Doctor Baruch, pointing to Jesus:
'Of what do you accuse this man?'
The doctor of law replied, in a loud voice:
'This man excites the people to revolt by the doctrines he teaches throughout Judea, from Galilee, where he commenced, unto here.'
At this accusation Genevieve heard one of the emissaries say quietly to his companion:
'Doctor Baruch is a cunning fox; by this accusation of sedition, he will force the governor to condemn the Nazarene.'
Pontius Pilate, having signed to Jesus to draw near him, they exchanged a few words between themselves; at each reply of the young man of Nazareth, still calm and dignified, Pontius Pilate seemed more and more convinced of his innocence; he resumed in a loud voice, addressing the high priests and doctors of the law:
'You have presented this man to me as exciting the people to revolt; nevertheless, having questioned him in your presence, I do not find him guilty of any of the crimes of which you accuse him. I do not judge him deserving of death: I shall therefore discharge him after he has been chastised.'
And Pontius Pilate, stifling a yawn, made a sign to one of his servants, who hastily departed. The crowd, not satisfied with the sentence of Pontius Pilate, at first murmured, then complained aloud:
'It was not to have the Nazarene chastised that webrought him here,' said some; 'but that he should be condemned to death!'
'Yes, yes!' exclaimed several voices; 'death! death!'
Pontius Pilate replied not to these murmurs and cries but by shrugging his shoulders and re-entering his house.
'If the governor is convinced of the innocence of the young man,' said Genevieve to herself, 'why does he have him chastised? ‘Tis both cowardly and cruel. He hopes, perhaps, to calm, by this concession, the rage of the enemies of Jesus. Alas! he deceives himself; he will only appease them by the death of this just man!'
Scarcely had Pontius Pilate given orders for Jesus to be chastised, than the soldiers seized him, tore off the last remnants of his mantle, stripped him of his tunic of linen, and his tunic of wool, which they turned down over his leather belt, and thus laid bare the upper portion of his body; they then bound him to one of the pillars that adorned the entrance door of the house of the Roman Governor. Jesus opposed no resistance, offered no complaint, turned his celestial face towards the crowd, and regarded it sorrowfully, but without appearing to hear the hootings and insults showered upon him. They had sent for the executioner of the city to flog him with rods, so, whilst awaiting the coming of the executioner of the law, the vociferations continued, still excited by the emissaries of the pharisees.
'Pontius Pilate hopes to satisfy us by the chastisement of this vagabond; but he is deceived,' said some.
'The culpable indulgence of the Roman governor,' added one of the emissaries, 'only proves too well thatthere is a secret understanding between him and the Nazarene.'
'Eh! my friends, of what do you complain?' inquired another: 'Pontius Pilate gives us more than we ask of him; we only wanted the death of the Nazarene, and he will be chastised before he is put to death. Glory to the generous Pontius Pilate.'
'Yes, yes! for he must certainly condemn him; we will force him to do it.'
'Ah! here's the executioner!' cried several voices: 'here's the executioner and his assistant.'
Genevieve recognized the same two men, who, three days before, had flogged her with a whip at the house of her master; she could not restrain her tears at the thought that this youth, who was all love and tenderness, was about to suffer an ignominous punishment reserved for slaves. The two executioners carried under their arm a package of hazel twigs, long, flexible, and as thick as a thumb. Each of the executioners took one, and on a sign from Caiphus, the blows began to fall violently and rapidly on the shoulders of the young man of Nazareth. When one twig broke, the executioners took another. At first Genevieve turned away her eyes from this cruel spectacle; but she was forced to hear the savage jests of the crowd, which, to the son of Mary, must have been a more horrible torture than the punishment itself. 'You who said, "Love one another," you cursed Nazarene!' cried one; 'see now how you are loved!'
'You who said, "Share your bread and your cloak with him who has neither bread nor cloak," the worthy executionersfollow their precepts; they share paternally their rods to break them across your back.'
'You who said, "That it was more easy for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven," don't you think it will be easier for you to pass through the eye of a needle than to escape the rod with which they warm your back?'
'You who glorified vagabonds, thieves, prostitutes, and such like game; no doubt you loved the wretches, because you knew you should one day be flogged like them, great prophet!'
Genevieve, despite her repugnance to see the punishment of Jesus, not hearing him utter a cry of complaint, feared that he had swooned from the pain, and looked at him with eyes full of anguish! Alas! to her it was a horrible spectacle.
The back of the young man was one large bleeding wound, interrupted simply by some blue and swollen furrows; at these places only the skin had not been broken. Jesus turned his face to heaven, and closed his eyes, to escape, no doubt, the sight of this implacable crowd. His face, livid and bathed in sweat, betrayed a horrible suffering at each fresh stroke cutting into his living flesh. And yet, at times, he still attempted to smile with angelic resignation. The high priest, the doctors of the law, the senators, and all the wicked pharisees, followed with a triumphant and greedy regard the execution of the punishment.
Amongst the most rancorous in feasting on this torture, Genevieve remarked Doctor Baruch, Caiphus, and Jonas, the banker.
The executioners began to tire of flogging; they had broken on the back of Jesus, nearly all their rods; they questioned, by a look, Doctor Baruch, as if to ask him if it were not time to put an end to the torture; but the doctor of law exclaimed: 'No, no; use up, even to the very last of your rods.'
The order of the pharisee was obeyed; the last rods were broken on the shoulders of the young Nazarene, and splashed with blood the faces of the executioners; it was no longer the skin they flagellated, but a bloody wound. The martyrdom now became so atrocious that Jesus, despite his courage, gave way, and dropped his head on his left shoulder; his knees trembled, and he would have fallen to the ground, but for the cords that bound him to the pillar by the middle of his body. Pontius Pilate, after having ordered this punishment, had re-entered his own house; he now again came out, and signed to the executioners to release the condemned.
They unbound and supported him; one of them threw over his shoulders his woollen tunic. The contact of this rough cloth on the quivering flesh caused a new and so cruel an agony, that Jesus trembled in every limb. The very excess of pain brought him to himself; he raised his head, endeavored to stand so firm on his legs as to do without the assistance of his executioners, opened his eyes, and threw on the multitude a look of tenderness.
Pontius Pilate, thinking he had satisfied the hatred of the pharisees, said to the Crowd, after having had Jesus unbound:
'There is the man;' and he signed to his officers to enter his house; he was preparing to follow them, when Caiphus,the high priest, after consulting in a low voice with Doctor Baruch, and Jonas the banker, exclaimed, stopping the governor by taking hold of his robe:
'Seigneur Pilate, if you deliver up Jesus you are not a friend of the Emperor; for the Nazarene calls himself king, declares himself against the Emperor.'
'Pontius Pilate will fear passing for a traitor with his master, the Emperor Tiberius,' said to his companions one of the emissaries placed behind Genevieve.
'He will be compelled to give up the Nazarene.'
Then the wicked man cried out, in a very loud voice:
'Death to the Nazarene! the enemy of the Emperor Tiberius, the protector of Judea!'
'Yes, yes!' exclaimed several, 'the Nazarene called himself King of the Jews!'
'He would overthrow the dominion of the Emperor Tiberius!'
'He would declare himself king, by exciting the populace against the Romans, our friends and allies.'
'Reply to that, Pontius Pilate!' cried, from the middle of the crowd, one of the two emissaries.
'How is it that we, Jews, are more devoted than you to the power of the Emperor Tiberius, your master? How is it that ‘tis we, Jews, who demand the death of the seditious who would destroy the Roman authority; and that ‘tis you, governor for Tiberius, who would pardon this rebel?'
This apostrophe appeared the more to trouble Pontius Pilate, as from all sides they cried:
'Yes, yes, it would be to betray the Emperor to deliver up the Nazarene!'
'Or prove, perhaps, that they have been accomplices!'
Pontius Pilate, despite the desire he had, perhaps, to save the young man, appeared more and more annoyed at these reproaches coming from the crowd, reproaches which placed in doubt his fidelity to the Emperor Tiberius. He went towards the pharisees, and conversed with them in an undertone, whilst the soldiers guarded Jesus, bound, in the midst of them. Then Caiphus, the high priest, said aloud, addressing Pilate, that he might be heard by the crowd, and pointing to Jesus:
'We have found that this man perverts our nation; that he prevents tribute being paid to Cæsar, and that he calls himself King of the Jews, as being the son of God.'
Then Pontius Pilate, turning towards the young man of Nazareth, said to him,
'Are you King of the Jews?'
'Do you say this of yourself?' inquired Jesus, in a voice weakened by suffering; 'or do you ask it of me because others have said it to you before me?'
'The high priests and senators have delivered you up to me,' said Pilate. 'What have you done? Do you pretend to be King of the Jews?'
Jesus gently shook his head, and said:
'My kingdom is not of this world; if my kingdom had been of this world, my friends would have combated to prevent my being delivered to you; but I repeat, my kingdom is not of this world.'
Pontius Pilate again turned to the pharisees, as if to take them as witnesses of Jesus' reply, which would absolve him, since he proclaimed that his kingdom was not of this world.
'His kingdom,' thought Genevieve, 'is no doubt, in unknown worlds, where, according to our druidical faith, we shall rejoin those we have loved here. How will they dare condemn Jesus as a rebel against the Emperor? He who has so often repeated:
"Render unto Cæsar that which is Cæsar's, and unto God that which is God's!"
But, alas! Genevieve forgot that the hatred of the pharisees was implacable.
The Seigneurs Baruch, Jonas, and Caiphus, having again spoken in an under tone with Pilate, the latter said to Jesus:
'Are you, yes or no, the son of God?'
'Yes,' replied Jesus, in his mild but firm voice; 'yes, I am.'
At these words, the priests, doctors and senators uttered exclamations which were repeated by the crowd.
'He has blasphemed! he has said he is the son of God!'
'And he who says he is the son of God also calls himself King of the Jews!'
'He is an enemy of the Emperor!'
'To death; to death with the Nazarene; crucify him!'
Pontius Pilate, a strange compound of cowardly weakness and equity, wishing no doubt to make a last effort to save Jesus, whom he did not think guilty, said to the crowd that it was customary on this feast day to set at liberty a criminal, and that the people had to choose for this act of clemency between a prisoner named Barabbas and Jesus, who had already been beaten with rods, he then added:
'Which of the two would you that I should release to you, Jesus or Barabbas?'
Genevieve saw the emissaries of the pharisees run from group to group, saying:
'Demand the release of Barabbas, let them give up Barabbas.'
And presently the crowd cried from all parts:
'Deliver Barabbas! and guard Jesus!'
'But,' said Pontius Pilate, 'what shall I do with Jesus?'
'Crucify him!' replied a thousand voices.
'Crucify him!'
'But,' again inquired Pilate, 'what harm has he done?'
'Crucify him!' replied the crowd, more furious than ever.
'Crucify him!'
'Death to the Nazarene!'
Pontius Pilate, not having the courage to defend Jesus, whom he found innocent, made a sign to one of his servants, the latter entered the governor's house, whilst the crowd shouted with increased fury:
'Crucify the Nazarene! crucify him!'
Jesus, still calm, mournful and pensive, seemed a perfect stranger to what was passing around him.
'No doubt,' said Genevieve to herself, 'his thoughts are already in that mysterious world where we are born and live again after quitting this one.'
The servant of Pontius Pilate returned, carrying a silver jug in one hand, and a basin in the other; a second servant took the basin whilst the first poured the water into it. Pontius Pilate dipped his hands in the water, saying in a loud voice: 'I am innocent of the death of thisrighteous man; ‘tis for you to look to it. As for me, I wash my hands of it.'
'Let the blood of the Nazarene be upon us and our children.'
'Take Jesus then, and crucify him yourselves,' replied Pontius.
'As you demand it, Barabbas shall be released to you.'
And Pilate re-entered his house to the acclamation of the crowd, whilst Caiphus, Doctor Baruch, Jonas the banker, and the other pharisees, triumphantly raised their fists in Jesus' face.
The officer who had commanded the escort of militia charged to arrest Mary's son in the garden of Olives, approaching Caiphus, said to him: 'Seigneur, to conduct the Nazarene to Golgotha, the place of execution for criminals, we shall have to traverse the populous quarter of the Judicial gate; the calmness of the partizans of this rebel may be only apparent, and once arrived in the quarter of this vile populace, they may rise to release Jesus. I can answer for the courage of my brave soldiers; they have, already, this morning, after a deadly combat, put to flight an immense troop of determined vagabonds, commanded by a bandit named Banaias, who would have forced us to deliver up Jesus. Not one of those wretches escaped, despite their furious resistance.'
'The base liar!' said Genevieve to herself on hearing this bragging officer of militia, who continued:
'Still, Seigneur Caiphus, despite the proved courage of our militia, it would be prudent, perhaps, to confide the escort of the Nazarene to the place of execution, to the Roman guard.'
'I am of your opinion,' replied the high priest: 'I will go and ask one of the officers of Pilate to keep the Nazarene a prisoner in the guard room of the Roman cohorts until the hour of execution.'
Genevieve then saw, whilst the high priest went to converse with Pilate's officer, the chief of the militia approach Jesus; presently she heard this officer, replying probably to some words of the young man, say to him in a cruel and jesting tone: 'You are in a great hurry to stretch yourself on the cross. They must first make it, and it is not made in the twinkling of an eye. You ought to know this better than any one, in your quality of a former journeyman carpenter.'
One of the officers of Pontius Pilate, to whom the high priest had spoken, then came to Jesus and said to him: 'I am come to conduct you to the guard-room of our soldiers: when the cross is ready, they will bring it, and under our escort you shall start for Calvary! follow us!'
And Jesus, still bound, was conducted to a short distance off, by the militia, to the court where the Roman soldiers lodged; the door, before which paced a sentinel, being open, several persons who had, like Genevieve, followed the Nazarene remained outside to see what was about to happen.
When the young man was brought to the court of the guard-house (or prætorium), the Roman soldiers were scattered in different groups: some were cleaning their arms; others were playing at different games; some were practising with the lance under the inspection of an officer; others, extended on benches in the sun, were singingor conversing amongst themselves. She recognized, from their faces bronzed by the sun, from their martial and ferocious air, and the military order of their arms and clothes, those courageous, warlike, and merciless soldiers who had conquered the world, leaving behind them, as in Gaul, massacre, spoliation and slavery. The moment the soldiers heard the name of Jesus of Nazareth, and saw him brought in by one of their officers, they all left their occupations and hastened round him. Genevieve anticipated, on remarking the coarse and brutal manner of these soldiers, that Mary's son was about to suffer fresh outrages.
The slave remembered having read in the narratives left by the ancestors of her husband, Fergan, of the horrors committed by Cæsar's soldiers, the scourge of the Gauls, she did not doubt that these by whom the young man was surrounded, were equally as cruel as those of the past times. There was, in the middle of the court of the prætorium, a stone bench, on which the soldiers made Jesus sit down, still bound; then approaching him, they commenced insulting and railing at him.
'This, then, is the famous prophet!' said one.
'This, then, is he who announced that the time will come when the sword will be exchanged for a reaping hook, and when there will be no more war! no more battles!'
'No more wars! By the valiant gold god Mars! no more war!' exclaimed other soldiers with indignation.
'Ah! these are your prophecies, thou prophet of evil!'
'No more war! That is, no more clarions, no morefloating standards, no more brilliant cuirasses, no more plumed helmets, which attract the eyes of the women!'
'No more war! that is, no more conquests.'
'What! no more try our iron boots on the heads of the conquered people!'
'No longer drink their wine while courting their daughters, as here, as in Gaul, as in the whole world, in fact!'
'No more war! By Hercules! And what then will become of the strong and the valiant, cursed Nazarene? According to you, they will, from daybreak till night, labor in the field or weave cloths like base slaves, instead of dividing their time between battle, idleness, the tavern, and the passion of love!'
'You, who call yourself the son of God,' said one of these Romans, raising his fist against the young man; 'you are, then, the son of the God Fear, coward that you are!'
'You, who call yourself the King of the Jews, would be acknowledged, then, as king of all the poltroons of the universe!'
'Comrades!' exclaimed one of the soldiers, bursting into a laugh, 'since he is king of the poltroons, let us crown him!'
This proposition was received with insulting joy; several voices immediately cried out:
'Yes, since he is king, we must invest him with the imperial purple.'
'We must put a sceptre in his hand; we will then proclaim him, and honor him like our august Emperor Tiberius.'
And whilst their companions continued to surroundand insult the young Nazarene, indifferent to these outrages, several of the soldiers went out.—One took the red cloak of a horse soldier; another the cane of a centurion; a third remembering a heap of fagots intended to be burnt, lying in a corner, chose a few sprigs of a thorny plant, and began weaving a crown. Several voices then exclaimed:
'We must now proceed to crown the King of the Jews.'
'Yes, let us crown the king of the cowards!'
'The son of God!'
'The son of the god Fear!'
'Companions, this coronation must be performed with pomp, as if it concerned a real Cæsar.'
'As for me, I am crown bearer.'
'And I, sceptre-bearer.'
'And I, bearer of the imperial mantle.'
And amidst shouts and obscene jests, these Romans formed a sort of mock procession. The crown-bearer advanced the first, holding the crown of thorns with a solemn air; and followed by a certain number of soldiers; next came the sceptre-bearer, then other soldiers; lastly, the one who carried the mantle; and all sang in chorus:
'Hail to the King of the Jews!
'Hail to the Messiah!
'Hail to the Son of God!
'Hail to the Cæsar of poltroons, hail!'
Jesus, seated on his bench, regarded the preparations for this insulting ceremony with unalterable placidity. The crown-bearer having approached first, raised the thorny emblem above the head of the young man, and said to him: 'I crown thee, O king!'
And the Roman placed the crown so brutally on the head of Jesus, that the thorns pierced the flesh; large drops of blood ran, like tears of blood, down the pale face of the victim; but, except the first involuntary shudder caused by the agony, the features of the meek and lowly sufferer maintained their usual placidity, and betrayed neither resentment nor rage.