At the Bethany home on the following afternoon Joseph of Arimathea and Lazarus discussed the great drama that had taken place in the Temple and the danger coming out of it that would be added to the peril the Galilean was already in, because of his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. While the men discussed the day's excitement, Martha told Mary of her visit to Jerusalem, as they sat in the garden on the edge of the stone basin, from which place Martha could watch the gate for the arrival of Eli from market.

"To-day while in Jerusalem," said Martha, "did Anna and Debora and I seek to make our way into the Temple, yet we got no farther than Solomon's Porch for here a thick crowd did stay our steps. As we pressed around one of the great pillars, we heard a voice. 'It is thy friend Rabbi Jesus,' said Anna. And by squeezing and struggling we pressed close until our eyes fell upon him in the midst of his disciples and a throng of strangers. When I did cast my eye from him to the other side, it fell upon a beautiful woman wearing a dull mantle and a veil about her head. Beside her stood a massive slave with a scar on his cheek like the cut of a thrashing scythe. And the face of the woman and the face of the slave were set toward the Master. As she stood, a passer-by brushed her veil from her head, when, from under her dull cloak she did reach a hand as resplendent with jewels as the breast-plate of the High Priest. Then her arm appeared, and, lo, it was banded with gold and with chains of jewels, and also where the dull garment did part I saw the sheen of rare silk and fringes of silver and gold that glistened. Anna also saw and whispered 'Who is she?' Yet neither the woman nor the slave saw aught but Jesus. And as they listened to his words, tears gathered in the dark eyes of the great slave and like rivers of water crossing a deep gorge did pass the bold scar and drop over its edge. And as his tears fell Jesus turned to the scarred face, and Mary—what thinkest thou? It were as though I could read the look Jesus gave, which was writ in the light that did break over that scarred face, making it shine like the sun. And, too, his eye did find the woman of rich robes well concealed, and did rest on her face, and her face gave back an answer which was none other than that she loved him. It passed in a moment and the woman spoke to the scarred slave who wiped the tears from that cruelly marked face, as slowly they turned away, the slave following the woman at a distance because of those who pushed between. And when the slave was passing the place where Jesus stood, the Master moved near him and spoke a few words which again did bring such a light as was a miracle on so ugly a countenance. While he paused, the woman looked back and seeing who spoke with her slave, waited. Then did Anna and Debora and thy sister Martha follow them to the portico."

"Thou hast forgotten something, Martha. Of importance, it is," Mary said.

"What is of importance?"

"The words of the Master. What said he that did hold together the crowd, that did bring tears to the scarred face of the slave and that did drive them away again with a glad light?"

"I know not. My eyes were too busy to give my ears a chance. At the portico a chariot and horses were waiting, such as the Romans drive. Mighty were their necks, and gorgeous were their trappings. Before the chariot the woman removed her dull coat and gave place to one like her jewels; and the scarred slave did show her great homage, as if she were a queen. When she was seated in the chariot he questioned her, and Mary—my sister Mary—who thinkest thou this gorgeous woman is?"

"Of the many gorgeous ones in Jerusalem, why asketh thou?"

"There is but one such in Jerusalem."

"Who is the woman?"

"The words she did speak, I will tell thee. Then wilt thou know. To the scarred slave she said, 'Drive thou to the Praetorium. Thy Lord Pilate awaits thy mistress Claudia.'"

"Thou hast seen Pilate's wife!" and Mary's voice was alive with interest.

"Yea, the wife of that vile heathen who sticketh spears into Israelites, as a bold child picks wings from flies—for no reason save to see them kick."

"And the wife of Pilate hath looked on the face of Jesus. Her ear hath heard the words of him who speaks as never man hath spoken."

"Yea, and she doth love him."

"Oh, that thou hadst heard his words, Martha."

"Rather that I might possess a chain of beads such as hung from her shoulder. But look thee down the roadway. There cometh Eli toiling up the path with no more speed than if he were not already two hours late."

When Martha and Mary entered the house, Eli, loaded with bundles, was coming in the door from the roadway.

"Thou art much loaded," Lazarus said, looking up.

"And thou art much late," Martha added.

"Behind a tomb black and stale have I tarried."

"Hast thou been near a tomb with thy meat?" Martha asked in alarm.

"I touched not the unclean thing though close was I driven. Yet did my tongue shake for fear of the plot."

"Plot?" quickly exclaimed Lazarus.

"What plot?" Joseph as quickly asked.

"The tombs throw not shadows while the sun yet hangs high. Methinks the man hath the plot in his own head," Martha said.

"The sun tarrieth not for the Passover rabble to finish its haggling over locusts and fish and oil. Ugh! The mob! And as I struggled for a place at the fish stand the sun passed over the mountain and left the valley grim. And lo, as I did travel, my fish and my sparrows slipped from me and to escape the hoofs and dust of a party of pilgrims I took my way behind an ancient tomb a long time used of sheep, to bind up my bundles. And no sooner had I sat me on the green than I heard a voice. Yet saw I no man. Again I heard the voice like a whisper. Then did fear lay hold of me lest the tomb be a den of ghosts and glad I was that the wall on the back was thick. Near this thick wall I put my back. Then the ghostly voice sounded nearer and I found my ear against a crack and I listened, for, though great my fear, my curiosity to hear the speech of ghosts overcame it. And when my ear lay close the voice was no longer that of a ghost but of a man who hatched a plot which another who is not a ghost listened to."

"What is the plot?" Lazarus asked again.

"That I learned not though my ears did itch."

"A plot thou hast heard—a plot that hath made thine ears itch, yet neither dost thou know the plotter nor the plot. The ears of an ass are thine."

Eli gathered up his bundles. "If the plot shall come to pass then will thy eyes drop water-jars of tears and thy head know all are not fools who carry bundles," and he turned toward the court.

"Stay," said Lazarus. "Of a plot thou knowest, yet knowest not. Of a plotter thou knowest, but knowest not. What dost thou know?"

"Little—save him they whispered against. . . Him I know, and that the one who hatched the evil did come from the Temple."

"From the Temple!" It was Joseph who spoke and his words were an exclamation.

"Yea. And the evil one he whispered with is one who knoweth thy friend
Jesus."

"Jesus!" exclaimed Lazarus and Mary in a breath. "Dost thou speak of our Jesus?"

"A plot against Jesus?" Lazarus asked. "Put thy goods down, thou fool, and tell what thou knowest."

"Already have I told that for which I was called a fool."

"What hast thou heard? Out with it!" and Lazarus helped Eli unload his bundles again.

With the party gathered closely about him Eli said, "There is naught to tell save that some one who hath been much about the Temple did make an offer of money for knowledge of the hiding-place of Jesus when he is not at Bethany. To do him harm was the purpose of the evil one, who did much thick-lipped whispering."

"What harm would this enemy of the Master do to him?" and Mary waited before Eli for an answer.

"Plotters plot death," he answered shortly, taking up his bundles.

"God of our fathers!" Mary cried. "What doth this mean? Lazarus, my brother Lazarus, Joseph, Father Joseph—let not harm come to him we love! Promise me—promise me!" and she held out her hands.

Taking her hands in his Joseph said, "Let not fear take possession of thy heart but rather thank thy God that thy servant did hide behind the tomb. Knowledge is better than swords. The young man hath life in his veins. He hath a great work to do. He courts not death. With knowledge aforetime of a plot, escape will be easy. But what is this plot? Who is this enemy? Is it of Rome, or the Great Sanhedrin?"

Lazarus, who had been walking the floor while Joseph spoke, stopped before Mary. "Yea, Mary," he said, "thank Jehovah that this hath been revealed, for while the source and manner of the plot doth not appear, yet there is safety in the warning. Soon will he be with us to hear the news. From the fox that hath oft crossed his path on Galilean hills hath he learned how to hide. From the hare that he hath seen running before the wolf hath he learned the wisdom of flight. Until the Passover is done must his whereabouts be kept dark. After this, a far journey."

Eli, with both hands full of packages, had gone as far as the door and stopped. He seemed waiting for something, and when Lazarus had finished he said, "That which an enemy of thy friend dropped, was picked up by the hand of Eli."

"What picked thou up? Money?" Lazarus asked.

"Nay—yet did I think that which he dropped and muttered curses over was money else would my feet have made wider space between the tomb and the place of his standing. An old and open tomb was it around which the smell of sheep hung heavy, and a bush of thorns grew at its corner and sent branches across the entrance. And when the enemy of thy friend would have held the branches down to walk over them, a thorn pierced his hand and he did curse. When he let go his hold of the branches, they did leap up and catch his garment. And again did he curse, saying he had suffered a loss. When he had gone and was well hid in the distance, then did Eli go by the thorn bush to find what had been lost, and there on the sharp thorn stuck a bit of the garment of this cursing enemy. So I tore it loose to bring to Martha for I saw it had pleasant threads woven in it. And when I stooped to pick up my bundles at my feet, I found a treasure which I did bring Mary. Put thy hand in my wallet and take out that which doth shine but is not money."

With hurried fingers Mary opened the wallet while the others stood about looking eagerly on. When she had drawn out that which was not money, and before those standing by had seen what it was, she dropped it to the floor and sprang back, screaming.

"Hast thou been stung by an adder?" Lazarus cried.

"Yea—yea. There it is!" and she pointed to a shining gold circlet lying at the hem of Joseph's robe. Lazarus picked it up. A bit of blue border with a purple stripe and a red pomegranate, whose ragged edges showed that it had been torn from a garment, was twisted in one side of it. Every eye in the room was on the circlet when Lazarus placed it on the table, and they all gathered close around except Mary, who stood back watching the faces of Lazarus and Joseph. Martha took the bit of blue wool from the circlet, while Lazarus lifted up the gold itself, and the two looked at each other in speechless questioning. Then Lazarus turned to Mary.

"What is the mystery of this that our servant Eli hath found at the mouth of a sheep ridden tomb?"

"Mary seeth little of mystery but much of danger in that which thy hand holdeth," she answered.

"Thou gavest Zador Ben Amon back his betrothal anklet?"

"Yea, by putting it, unbeknown to him, in the border of his coat."

"Where it was tightly sewn the next day and hath remained in the dark until torn out by the sharp thorn, methinks," said Martha.

As Joseph, standing by, heard this brief conversation, his face took on a puzzled expression, seeing which Lazarus said, "Thou dost not understand. Here is that which seemeth to uncover to us the enemy of our friend Jesus. He is Zador Ben Amon, a Sadducee of power and a money-lender of great wealth. The man did have his heart set on Mary and did bring this anklet as a betrothal gift. But my sister loved him not, nor listened to his proposal for marriage and this gift she gave to him again."

"Yea, by putting it in the border of his cloak where methought he would find it on the morrow."

Joseph looked at the anklet. Then he raised his eyes to the face of
Mary. "Thou didst not love the money-changer?"

"Nay! Nay!"

"Thy heart hath taken its way wisely. By this witness," and he tapped the shining ring with his long forefinger, "he is," and the aged Rabbi bent his shoulders until his face was even with that of Mary, "he is a murderer!"

"Yea, yea—a murderer he is—by this witness," Mary promptly answered.

"Is this Jew whose sensuous advances thou hast repulsed, acquainted with thy friendship for the Galilean?"

"I know not."

Joseph considered the matter a moment. When he spoke again it was to Lazarus. "There is a reason the money-changer is an enemy of our friend Jesus. It may be the woman. But in the money-changer's balances where gold doth weigh heavy, women weigh light. It is more likely this cometh of the swift and terrible scourging suffered by the money-changers at the hand of our brave friend. If so, a third source of danger ariseth. The wrath of Pilate is the wrath of Rome—a political danger—ever deadly. The wrath of the High Priest Annas is a religious wrath, cunning, and cruel as the grave. But the wrath of Zador Ben Amon is both these and more, for hath not the Master himself said, 'The love of money is the root of all evil'? Protected must our friend be against this threefold danger until he can escape, and God forbid that he fall into the hands of the enemy!"

"Yea—God forbid," Mary repeated with trembling voice. "Thinkest thou harm hath befallen him so soon? See—the sun is sinking, yet he cometh not!" Choking back a sob Mary went into the court and to the place at the wall where she could watch down the roadway.

"Mary hath gone to watch for the Master," Martha said.

"She loveth him much," Joseph answered thoughtfully.

"Even so. Yet it is not seemly for a Jewish woman to let a man know she loveth him as doth Mary."

"Would that I knew," said Joseph without answering Martha's remark, "whether the voice in the tomb were the voice of the Great Sanhedrin. The spirit of murder brooded over the meeting I did attend to-day—murder in the name of Moses and the prophets."

"Murder thou sayest!" Lazarus exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yea—murder. Such is the spirit brooding over the priests."

The silence following this declaration was broken by a sharp cry coming from Mary in the garden. "Martha! Lazarus! Father Joseph!" and her voice was tense with excitement.

"What? What?" they cried, rushing to the door.

"The God of our fathers be praised!'"

"Yea—yea—but for what?"

"He is safe! He is safe! The Master cometh!"