The sun cast its rising brightness over the Sea of Galilee which lay in its rock- and sand-bound bed, quiet as if yet asleep and blue as the cloudless sky hanging over it. Against the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky, the figure of a man, who stood close to the water's edge, was sharply silhouetted. For a time he stood with folded arms looking away toward the distant coast line. Then he turned and cast his eyes on the near-by shore reaching away from his feet in every direction.

In the slanting rays of the rising sun, this bit of beach looked like a monster honeycomb, each shapen place the broken track of a human foot. It was here the day before, Jesus of Nazareth had talked to a vast concourse of people. So insistent were they in getting close to him, he took to a boat, and even then men crowded knee-deep into the quiet water to hear his teachings, so strangely different from that of the Temple priests. All sign of the multitude was now gone but the far reach of footprints. At no great distance from where the lone man stood, a pile of rock jutted into the water behind which was a secluded spot known to the man on the shore and to which he now went, making his way around the point on half submerged stones. Farther down the shore was a line of rushes and willows growing by a wady that in wet season turned a small stream into the sea.

The man who had sought seclusion behind the pile of rock had scarcely found time for meditation or for prayer, when a second figure came upon the sand, the figure of a woman. As she approached, the stillness was not broken by so much as the call of a bird. Yet the man behind the wall of rocks moved that he might watch her, yet himself remain unseen. Slowly and painfully she moved the burden of a wasted and diseased body toward the water's edge, looking about with the caution of a wounded beast. One of her arms was covered with sores. The knee joint of a leg, around which she put both hands from time to time, was swollen to great size. Her eyes were sunken in a colorless face. Her hair was thin and uneven and her garments were tattered and stained with soil.

Reaching the edge of the water she sat down, putting her leg in place with her two hands. Then she began digging in the soft sand and soon there was a bowl of water before her. She bathed her face and poured water on her sores. Again she looked cautiously about and listened. All was still. She hurriedly drew off her bodice and put it in the bowl of water, but before she had finished cleansing it she was startled by the sound of a dipping oar quite near, then from behind the line of rushes a small fishing boat came into view. Folding her arms across her breast and bending low to hide her nakedness, the woman in a shrill voice cried, "Unclean! Unclean!"

The fisherman instinctively pulled away a little, lifted his oar and stopped.

Again the voice, now half sobbing, called, "Unclean! Unclean! Oh,
Jael—I am unclean!"

The fisherman gave a start and cried, "Who art thou that doth call
'Jael' in the voice of one dead?"

"It is Sara."

"Sara is dead—by bitter hemlock did she die."

"Yea, Sara is dead. Yet not by bitter hemlock. By the living death of an issue of blood which is worse than leprosy hath Sara been buried from the clean, though she yet liveth."

"God of my fathers!" The words rang out on the stillness as an accusing yell. "It is Sara speaking from a living tomb. Whence hast thou come?"

"To the place where soldiers are quartered in the household of Herod was I taken. Here were many other maidens. Some there were whose tongue I knew not. But on the faces of them all was one speech written, one fear and one prayer for death. Here were we searched to the skin. Here was my hemlock taken. Here did Herod walk forth and when he did see a maiden that well pleased him, to the palace she went. But not I. By those of brutal force was I taken. And when I was no longer fair, my strength had gone and the issue of death had come upon me, then was I cast out. Since, have I wandered, feeding on what the gleaners left and where the fruit grows wild and the springs cast up their water. To-day I came to wash my garment that doth pain me by its stiffness. Then comest thou and I am covered with shame. Once I was clean as my love for thee, but now—oh, Jael—go back! Go back!"

"Nay, but I will take thee first across the water to the country of the Gadarenes. The outcast of Gadara be better fed than dogs, for in the place of caves and tombs do they congregate and bread be carried thither more than the crumbs cast to the unclean by those making much prayer in Israel. Go hence."

"Nay—nay! The screams of the tomb-dwellers hath come across the water to my ears at night."

"These are maniacs chained to rocks."

"I go not. Though I be unclean, would I be free, lest when my misery go to my head, I too be chained to a rock. Alone will I wander. Get thee gone, my Jael—get thee gone that I may draw my garment from the water and hide away from the light."

"Thou shalt have my garment," and he snatched his upper garment from his body and, hastily paddling to the shore, spread it on the sand.

"The blessing of God on thee, Jael—Jael who was once mine," she sobbed. "When the rains fall cold will it warm my body as thy love did once warm my heart. Haste thee now—hast thee away, once my beloved. The sun rises; soon the fishermen will gather and stones will be my portion. Wilt thou go?"

"Yea, Sara, when thou lettest me know by whose hand this evil hath come upon thee and me."

"By the hand of the soldier who smote thee into sleep and weakness and stole me by force."

The face of the fisherman turned livid with anger. His fingers twitched and his breath came hard as he drew from under his skirt a shining blade and held it aloft shouting until the rocks gave back the echo of his voice, "Look thee, Sara—once my betrothed! By the height of the sky above me; by the depths of the sea beneath me; by the distance that lieth between the East and the West and the hand that set the stars, do I swear to bury this blade in the heart of the beast that hath taken from me my Sara. May the God of my fathers lay me low in the fires of Gehenna if I do less!" A moment the fisherman stood with upraised arm. The rising sun fell on the gleaming steel like a fire along its edge.

A sob from the shore broke the silence. "Go! Go!" cried the half-naked creature by the water.

With a last look of pity and of horror, Jael seated himself, took up the oars and passed from sight around the ledge of rock. In a few moments, however, he returned, rowing swiftly. He pushed his boat up on the sand and went ashore. There was no living thing in sight. Whether Sara had fled to the rushes and willows or had cast herself into the sea, he knew not. As he stood he heard his name spoken. Looking around again, he saw no man, and yet again he heard a voice saying, "Jael."

"Whose is this voice?" he questioned. "A strange voice yet it seemeth
I have somewhere heard it."

"Thy heart is troubled, Jael," the voice said. "Come unto me and I will give thee help." From behind the rocks the words came. Hastening into his boat he rowed around the narrow point and came upon a man of about his own age who wore one of the garments of a Rabbi. "Dost thou remember me?" the stranger said to Jael.

With dripping oar poised on the boat's edge, the half-naked fisherman studied the face of the man on the rocks. Then he exclaimed with joy, "Thou art Jesus of Nazareth! Yea, well do I remember thee and the games of our childhood."

"Rest thy boat, Jael. I would talk with thee."

"The years have been many since we ran the streets of Nazareth," Jael said, his eyes studying the face of Jesus, "yet the struggle hath gone on."

"How hath thy struggle gone?"

"Wrest I my bread from the sea. In the nine cities on her border have
I sold to the markets. Yet never have I seen thee there."

"While I was yet young I went on a far journey in search of Wisdom," the Rabbi said thoughtfully. "More years than one was I with strange peoples, who were hungry for God as are my brethren in Israel, yet searching ever for him where he is not found, save a few wise ones. When I had learned that the heart of all mankind is one heart, the need of all mankind the same need and one God sufficient for all, then came I back to Galilee to preach good news to my people."

"So have I heard thou art a prophet and a wonder worker. Some there are who have called thee a king."

"What sayest thou?"

"Said I, 'He is neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet. Was not his home in Nazareth? Was his father not the town carpenter? Was he not poor like unto the rest of us? Hath any good thing come out of Nazareth?' And the man who did say with loud speech that thou art a king, I did smite on the mouth. 'A king?' said I. 'A king—this son of a carpenter that once did shout wildly as we chased goats over the hills and who ran fleet-footed when his mother called him to sop—he is a king, and while Jael yet stinketh of fish? For thy lack of wits thou shouldst be soundly kicked where it be not seemly to apply the sting,' and I smote him. All fools are not yet dead fools—what sayest thou?"

The face of the Rabbi was smiling when the fisherman raised his eyes for an answer. "Thou art right. There are yet those among the living, void of understanding and because of this thy heart suffereth."

Jael looked at Jesus a moment as if he failed to catch the meaning of the words. Then he said, "Yea, as if a torch had been touched to my blood do I suffer. If thou hadst eyes to see through these rocks thou wouldst have beheld a maiden carrying about in her body a living tomb of corruption which came to her at the hand of Herod and back of him, of Rome. Ah, that the prophets were not all dead, for had they not powers of healing? That Sara might be made whole?"

"And dost thou think all power for healing passed from the earth with the passing of the prophets? Hast thou not heard of late that the sick are healed, the lame walk and the blind made to see?"

"Yea, have I heard. Yet I believe not. In Chorazin and Bethsaida had there been much boasting of thy wonder-working powers. Yet thou didst not any mighty works there."

"Because of their hardness of heart and unbelief I did not many mighty works in these cities, neither in Tiberias."

"There be ever an excuse," Jael answered, laughing. "Yet I take thee for a good fellow and when a day cometh for idle talk will we be boys again together as in Nazareth. Yet for a season must my eyes be ever looking—looking for him into whose heart the point of this may find burial," and he drew out his blade. Jael turned the weapon over slowly once or twice and ran his finger lightly across the thin part.

"They that lift the sword shall perish by the sword," the Rabbi remarked quietly.

"Yea—thou speakest. So shall Jael the fisherman make thy words come true against him who hath in days past lifted the Roman blade to smite the Jew."

"Hast thou not heard the better way is to return good for evil?"

Jael turned a glance of astonishment on the Rabbi as he said, "Now know I for certain thou art no prophet. Doth not the Law say, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth'? And wouldst thou do away with the Law?" and he lifted his oars as if desirous of getting away from an impostor.

"In thy ship would I also go," the Rabbi said. "Peter with James and
John and others of my brethren soon cometh and I go with them."

"And art thou a fisherman as well as a wonder worker?" There was mockery in the voice of Jael.

"Yea, of such fish as thou art."

"Call me not a fish," Jael retorted angrily. "Because thou hast a following and I yet toil, dost thou call me fish!"

"Take no offense, Jael," the Rabbi said kindly. "Such fish as thou are Sons of God not yet caught in the drag-net of His calling. Go with me into the deeper waters and thou shalt learn."

The sound of husky voices raised in snatches of song and speech came from behind the band of rushes and a moment later a sailboat with full crew and loaded with nets, rode into view.

"Son of Barjona," shouted the Rabbi, "my friend Jael and I would go with thee."

"Ye ho! Ye ho!" answered a lusty voice and the large craft slackened speed that the small boat might be fastened to its side.

"We seek the deep," Peter said as Jael and Jesus climbed up the side of the ship, and when they were safely landed he shouted, "Launch out!" and the boat turned toward the Gadarene shore.

Before the first net had been cast, Jael spoke with Peter. "What manner of man is this Rabbi Jesus?" he asked. "While yet I was young I did live in Nazareth and with him eat and play. Then was he the son of a carpenter and was learning the use of tools. Now he doth talk strangely of being a fisherman, yet hath he the savor of a Rabbi."

"What manner of man? I know not. Yet when he called me to be his disciple he did say he would make of me a fisher—not of much sea food—but of men. So now do I follow when he sayeth follow, and fish for my bread between times."

"Where getteth he the name of wonder worker?"

"That which men say he doeth, he doeth, and more."

"And thou dost believe this? I believe not."

"Believe? Yea, what my eyes see. Did not my wife's mother lay sick of a fever? Did not he heal her by the touch of his hand? Have I not seen one born blind made to see by his power?"

"Nay. Never hath one born blind been made to see."

"Dispute me not, else wilt thou tempt me to cast thee into the sea. I speak the truth."

"I believe not."

"Hath any man bidden thee believe? Get thee hence."

During the day, the crew commanded by Peter cast their nets, but after each casting drew them in empty and when the sun had neared the distant water line, they were yet toiling. A drowsiness had fallen over the sea and a bank of gray clouds lifted itself slowly and stealthily above the horizon line to the northwest and spread its flanks as it rose over the water like the wings of some ominous creature of the air. The Rabbi, who had toiled with the others until late in the afternoon, left them before the clouds rose, and finding some dry nets made a pillow and lay down to sleep. The other fishermen toiled on. One wing of the cloud bank reached across the sun and the sea grew restless. But it was not until a sharp breeze struck the bearded faces bending over the nets that Peter said to James, "Let us back to land. A storm ariseth."

The nets were quickly hauled in and the sails loosened to the rising wind. But the storm was one of the sudden kind that at times sweep Galilee like an unbridled fury, and almost before they were aware of its speed their ship was running like a wild bird, while Peter shouted and the crew worked with sails and tackle. The light of the sun turned dark. The fury of the storm increased until the air was filled with roaring and the earth seemed to be vomiting the sea from its bosom. When the darkness was riven by lightning, the set faces of the fishermen, fighting for life, showed pallid for a moment and the racing billows glimmered with blue streaks.

It was while the gray was turning yet darker that Peter caught sight of that which took his attention from the storm. "My Lord and my God!" he cried in great alarm. "What is that?" and he threw out a long arm which wavered with the vibration of the boat, as he pointed.

"Where? What seest thou?" those about him called back.

"I know not. But look you where the waves boil as a brew doth boil in a kettle! Something doth move about the waters like a strange, living mist."

"It is but spray thrown up."

"Nay, nay, not spray. It riseth and moveth itself aright, like unto a man."

The fishermen gathered at the side of the pitching ship and held on to one another and to the wet woodwork.

"It is a man. It walketh on the water!"

"It is the ghost of John whose head Herod took off!"

"Walks it without a head?"

"Nay, it hath a head."

"It is a spectre. It treadeth the way of death and that swirling pool over which it hovereth is our grave!"

"Look you! Look—my Lord—my Lord! A light cometh where the face is. God of our fathers—it is Jesus walking the waters like a bird of the storm! When gat he from the ship? Watch thee the spirit, James, while I find the place he lay." And Peter fell on his hands and knees and started to creep toward the pile of fish-nets in the other end of the boat.

In terror the men he had left huddled together, except James who watched the spirit moving over the water. A cry from Peter drew their attention. "He is here," they heard him shouting above the whistle of the wind. "He is sleeping as if the soul of him had departed!"

"Wake him! Shout into his ear that we perish—we perish—" The last words of James who had called, were swallowed up by the hissing of a wave which broke over the deck and threw the men into the rigging and nets.

"Waken him before she takes the next wave! Hasten!"

The words were borne away on the gale but in the ear of the sleeping Rabbi, Peter was shouting as he shook his shoulder, "Master, the tempest is raging! The billows dash like mountains! Just ahead lieth death! Carest thou not that we perish? How canst thou lie asleep? Thy garments are running like a river and thy hair washed tight to thy head! Awake! Awake!"

The sleeping man awoke. The next moment James shouted, "The spirit hath passed away!"

As Jesus made his way to the prow of the ship which was pointing high on the crest of a wave, he saw in the flashes of light, the blanched faces of the terrified crew.

"The winds be contrary," James shouted as he passed him.

"Nay, not the winds, but the force that is back of the wind is divided," he answered. "They need but a center in which to become as one."

Though the ship was taking the waves and pitching so violently that all hands lay flat where they had been thrown, Jesus made his way steady-footed to the high point of the prow where he folded his arms and looked out over the scene of turbulence and darkness. He breathed deep and lifted his face to the flakes of foam torn from the long spray-arms of the warring waves. He turned his ear to the moan of the gale which seemed to breathe out in wrath from the heart of the earth. Calm and secure as if he and the elements were one, he rode for a few moments watching the play of the divided force. Then he held forth his hands after the manner of a High Priest in benediction and said, "Peace. Be still." And the wind and the waves obeyed his will, the wind moaning itself into nothingness; the waves subsiding into their wonted calm, and in the dawn of the setting sunlight, they saw the shore.

When Jesus turned about, he found Jael kneeling beside him and holding to the hem of his garment with both hands. On the face that looked up to the Rabbi was written revelation and the joy of a great escape. "Thou art the King!" he cried. "Forgive me the blindness of my heart I pray thee and grant my soul one request!"

"What wilt thou, Jael?" Jesus said.

"This be my one desire—that Sara yet liveth and be made whole."

"According to thy faith shall thy desire come to pass," he answered. Then he called Peter saying, "Cast now thy net and make ready for the ingathering."

The net was cast and a great burden of fish towed to the shore, which was washed clean of footmarks and strewn with fresh pebbles. With the vigor of new-born joy, Jael worked with the other fishers. But when he would have come in contact again with his hope, he found Jesus had gone, no man knew whither.