As Martha had expected, Mary refused to go to rest and when all about was quiet she went into the garden. For a moment she paused before the stone bench, then with lingering step she sought the fountain. Under the light of the moon the garden seemed to lie in a silver aura. Where the lilies grew thick and white the aura seemed to be a cloud-like halo lying close to earth and on the pool the light was caught in tiny shining bars.

"How still the garden!" Mary said, speaking to herself. "Scarce breathing is the summer night—waiting it doth seem for something to give it life. The leaves wait—wait for the evening breeze to touch them into morion. The valley waiteth—waiteth for the song of the pilgrim to break its hush with gladness. So waiteth my soul for sight of a face that shall drive back the shadows of fear. So waiteth my heart for the sound of a voice that shall stir the silence of the waiting into wild glad music. Will he come? Or will—but no, no—it can not, can not be that he will come no more. The God that fashioned me of dust formed likewise the mystery of life, my love for him and his for me. . . . And lo, then did the hand of Jehovah make the feet of him I love to enter in upon the path my feet do tread. So hath my soul been bound to his soul and there are no more two souls, but one soul. And having wrought thus blessedly, will God play with the love he hath put in a woman's heart and bring to her soul such agony as doth wring drops of blood from her? Nay, nay! It can not be! He must come! He will come! Hasten, my beloved; I am waiting!"

Mary walked around the circular pool slowly. As she did so, the crowing of a cock, its sharpness muffled by some distance, sounded on the stillness. "The cock croweth the midnight hour," she said as the last faint vibration died. "Until the crowing of the cock did he bid me wait to see his face. Yea, until the breaking of the day will I wait. Until the sunset of my life will I wait. Yea, even until the Resurrection of the dead will I wait to see his face!"

She crossed the garden and back, paused, and raised her face to the vault above where the moon was casting floods of silver over the billowing clouds. She sighed and the words she spoke were breathed out softly as if they too were a part of the passing night. "The hours move on and naught there is but silence! What a silence it is! Like a pall hangeth it over the Judean hills! Like a shroud falleth it over Olivet! Like grave wrappings huggeth it the valley! God! The silence of this night! Hath there been before such silence? It doth make of itself feet that tread upon my soul and, treading, leave wounds with living tongues which call in agony, 'I am waiting! I am waiting in the garden!' No sound cometh to break this that oppresseth? The silence deepens and its mystery doth affright my soul!"

For a moment she stood under the flood-light from above like a white veiled statue, yet softer than marble, locked in the pervading and low brooding hush. Then, suddenly, she turned her ear in the direction of the highway. "A sound breaketh the stillness!" she exclaimed in an excited undertone. "Faint and far it is—but a sound!" With light steps she ran to her watching place by the stone wall. "Yea, a sound!" and she leaned over the wall. "It groweth on the air. What cometh? A speck it is against the gray! It moveth! It groweth larger! Aye, it cometh! It cometh! It taketh on the shape of flying garments—yea, flying garments! What meaneth this? He cometh as if pursued! Aye, if danger threaten, may Israel's God lend speed to his feet!"

The first faint sounds had rapidly grown more distinct. Mary leaned as far across the wall as safety permitted and peered into the roadway. "What is it I see? There are two running as doth the hind run to escape the pursuing dogs! On, on they come! Close—they draw nigh! They are here! They pass!" With the last words she dropped from the wall just as the runners dashed by.

"Ho! Stop!" cried one of them. "This is the place."

"The home of Lazarus?" the other panted.

"Yea! Hast thou voice left to shout?"

"Yea, while thou dost beat the door!"

Before Mary could reach the house she heard the runners pounding on the door and shouting, "Open! Open!" and when she entered at the back her brother was unbarring the front door. "What news?" he demanded as the two rushed in.

"Be not loud of mouth. We bear news of Jesus," one of them answered.

Lazarus cast his eyes over them. One was a Galilean fisherman, the other was naked save a fragment of garment about his loins. "Who art thou, and what is thy message?"

"Disciples of Jesus are we both. Lo, was my coat torn from me in resisting those who took him and I fled leaving it in the hands of a soldier."

"Who hath taken Jesus?" It was Mary who asked, and her voice was charged with apprehension.

"Yea, who hath taken Jesus?" Joseph asked as he appeared hastily fastening his vestment.

"By the midnight Temple guard and soldiers from the Tower of Antonio hath he been taken!"

"Lazarus—Joseph!" Mary cried. "Let us hasten to him—let us fly to him!"

"Soldiers have taken him who is to be King of the Jews?" Martha exclaimed. "Not so!"

"Peace, women," Joseph said, lifting his hands. "Wisdom demandeth there be no loss of time. Let the stranger make speech."

"The Passover feast we ate in an upper chamber," he said. "Before the singing of the last hymn and the washing of hands Judas left, and it doth seem that from his word or act, the Master did suspect him of disloyalty. Soon we went into the streets which lay quiet save for the sound of singing from those who tarried late at the feast. Leaving the city by a side gate we followed a dim path to an old stone mill hard by an olive orchard. A secluded and hidden place it is. At the entrance to the grove the Master bade us tarry, save three, and watch with all our eyes, for threats had been breathed against him. And the three which went with him did he also bid watch while he went yet farther under the trees to commune with Jehovah as oft he doeth. Secure would he have been had not our eyes been heavy with sleep for then would we have seen the crowd approaching that with clubs and torches and spears, wormed its way across Kedron and up the hillside. And had we seen, then would we have passed word to the inner watchers, and to the Master would they have called. Then, lo! him whom Judas would betray, could have escaped far down the hillside, and have safely hidden in some cave or tomb. So hath he escaped aforetimes. But woe! Woe! Woe unto him whose words thou hearest! The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak and around the old stone mill did we fall asleep. And, alas for the misery that hath come upon us; those of the inner watch did also fall asleep, and while we slept came the soldiers of Rome, the Temple guards and the rabble. Scarce had we opened our eyes when they were upon us, yet did not the inner watch awaken until Jesus, hearing the uproar, came from the shadows and said, as he stood above the sleeping forms of his disciples, 'What, could ye not watch with me one hour?' And as he did stand, Judas hurried to him, kissing his cheek and crying, 'Hail, Master!' At this the soldiers fell upon him, yet fear did not move him, and at his command they fell back. Without the twitching of a hair or the shadow of a fear he stood out before them while he said, 'Why have ye come out against me as a robber? Daily have I taught in the Temple. Why take me not there?' And because they could make no answer they smote him on the mouth."

"Those he loved slept while his life was in peril! Those he trusted have betrayed him? Those to whom he hath done no evil have smitten him? It can not be so! Say it is not so!" and Mary's voice broke in sobs.

"Smite the Master," angrily exclaimed Martha. "Him to be King of the
Jews?"

"Yea, they did smite him," the fisherman answered. "They did curse him and as they turned away they spat upon him. Some of his disciples bore arms and in the struggle the servant of the High Priest lost an ear. Would God it had been the High Priest's head the sword severed! And as they rudely pushed him on, he whispered a word in the ear of a disciple asking that swift news of his arrest be brought to Lazarus of Bethany. Then took they him."

"Where have they taken him?" Joseph asked.

"To Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin; to the Judgment Hall of Pilate; to the scourger and the cross if they have power."

"To the Roman judgment seat—to the scourgers—to the cross—the cruel, cruel cross? Nay, not the cross! Save him! Lazarus—Joseph—Strangers—Men of Israel, save him whom we love! Let not the hand of Rome hang his body on a cross!" Mary plead hysterically.

"Calm thyself, Mary," Joseph said. "The Jew hath not power to take the life of Jesus, and Pilate doth hate the Sanhedrin with such fierce hatred that for nothing short of Temple gold or fear of Caesar would he sign a death-warrant that would please a Jew."

"Trust not to Pilate," plead the fisherman. "Pilate is but Rome in Palestine and doth not Rome love the cross? Aye, in our own Galilee were not two thousand of our sons and fathers crucified, and left for dogs to gnaw because they followed the Gaulonite and refused Rome the tax? The cross is fearful and bloody. Jesus of Nazareth must be saved from the cross!"

"Yea, by the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob must he be saved!" Lazarus shouted. "Let us away and arouse the hills and awake the valleys where thousands of armed Galileans are sleeping. Other thousands there are of Zealots whose hands are ever near a blade. And will not the Nationalists strike for the honor of the nation? And the Essenes? Aye, all these will we waken, and more, and by morning when the city gates swing open such a populace will enter as proclaimed him King. The time hath come for Israel to strike—aye, to strike with the sword!"

"A mob is not an army, Lazarus. Though the populace shout hosannahs or breathe curses it is all one to the sword of Rome."

"Aye, Joseph, but the wrath of Israel will make of scythes and reaping hooks, blades to strike off the shackles of Rome, and from the fastness of Judean mountains will those who know not fear, engage Rome in such warfare as she hath never known."

"The love of thy heart doth upset thy reason," Joseph answered, shaking his head. "What to Rome is the fastness of Judean hills? Hath not Rome crossed mountains and jungles and deserts in search of her prey? Like sheep in a pen wouldst thou be made to stay in thy hiding-places until thy bleached bones would tell that Rome findeth starvation oft cheaper than the sword. From Dan to Beersheba doth the heathen purple fly over tower and wall, and under the dark shadow of her mighty eagle do the nations of the earth cower. Whence then could come thy succor? To lift the sword is but to bring it down on thine own neck. If he whom our hearts love escape, by the wit of man's mind must the thing be accomplished. Go thou, Lazarus, with these disciples and rouse the sleeping people that they be ready to swarm the city at the opening of the gates. And I—I will hasten to Jerusalem and until daybreak keep my eye where the Sanhedrin might hold meeting."

"It is not lawful for the Great Sanhedrin to meet until the sun is well risen," said Lazarus eagerly.

"And what care murderers for the law of Moses when the fires of hatred gnaw their souls? To their meeting place I will hasten, and if quietly they seek to do evil before the break of day, I will, with innocent words, seek an entanglement among them concerning the Law. And with the daybreak will come the followers of Jesus and safety for another day. Haste! Let us haste!"