"It is well that by the blessing of Jehovah thou hast recovered thy health, my son, for though we have accomplished the death of the blasphemer, there yet remains the rabble of his followers. With the trunk of the poisonous vine we must also thoroughly burn the branches lest they bud anew."

"Thou hast the tongue of wisdom," said Caiaphas in a tone of dull indifference, his eyes fixed vacantly on the range of blue hills at the verge of the horizon.

Annas glanced impatiently at the white worn face. "They are already spreading reports both in Jerusalem and in all Galilee that the man is alive again, that, forsooth, he has been seen of them. The temple resounds daily to the voice of their noisome praises and thanksgivings. I have counseled that they be thrust out," he continued frowning, "for what is it else than blasphemy--lies. It cannot be true!" And the speaker started to his feet, and began to pace up and down the terrace of the roof garden. "The Sanhedrim seems satisfied that nothing will come of it," he went on angrily. "\'Let be,\' say they, \'the thing will die even as the man.\' Pah! they are blind. Look you! here are the facts. The man\'s body disappears on the third day after the crucifixion, the Roman guards tell a drunken tale of earthquake and the appearance of an angel with a sword; lies, all lies! That I have managed--gold worketh wonders; they know now that they were drunken, and that his disciples stole the body away while they slept. So far, well. Then there is the matter of the rent veil before the Holy of Holies; a sore mischance, the fabric had been eaten of insects, there is no question of it, how else should it----"

"Who saw the thing done?" interrupted Caiaphas in a hollow tone.

"A half score of priests who were preparing the altar for the evening sacrifice. It was rent with a loud noise, say they, and the Holiest place revealed on a sudden. I have counseled that they hold their peace; it may be that they also are apostate, but I dare not take the steps that I would in the matter because of the people. Of one thing I am certain, the man is dead; in that have we triumphed. I saw him die, and he is as assuredly perished as are the wretched malefactors that groaned that day on either side of his cross."

The face of Caiaphas blanched to the livid color of death. "Say no more," he gasped huskily, "I am not well."

Annas stared at him for an instant with something like contempt. "I will call a servant," he said at length. "Thou shouldst drink wine to strengthen thy heart."

"The man is strangely wrought upon by this thing," he thought within himself as he strode away. "He is like to a rope of sand; I must not look to him for help. Who is there then of stout heart and good courage? Issachar--Johanan--Alexander? they all be like wax which the sun hath melted. Stay! there is the young Saul of Tarsus, a Pharisee of the Pharisees, and zealous for the upbuilding of Israel; I will even dispatch a swift messenger for him. He will be an instrument of wrath in mine hand against the enemies of the Lord Jehovah."

As the sound of his footsteps died away, the sick man raised his head. "Begone!" he said with an irritable gesture to the servant who stood awaiting his pleasure. "Call my wife."

Even as he spoke, the heavy curtains which hung over the doorway near at hand, parted, and the figure of a woman emerged onto the terrace.

"Where hast thou been?" said the invalid, fixing his sunken eyes angrily upon her. "Dost thou not know that I cannot abide that clumsy hind, Barak. Where is my cordial?"

"Here, my lord," said Anna soothingly, pouring a few drops of some bright-colored liquid into a cup. Her slender hand trembled so violently as she did this that a portion of the contents was spilled, and lay a crimson pool between them on the white marble of the pavement.

The sick man shrank back among his pillows, his eyes starting from his head. "Ay! there it is again!" he muttered, huskily. "Blood, blood--the blood of the Nazarene! I shall always see it. Look!" he shrieked, "it is crawling towards me!"

The woman sprang forward, her face colorless. "It is nothing!" she said, breathlessly, "nothing, my lord! See! it is gone. Come, drink the cordial, after that thou shalt rest; thou art weary."

Caiaphas looked into the cup. "It is blood," he said, shudderingly, "yet must I drink it; God is just!" Then he lay back among his pillows once more, his eyes closed. After a time a faint color crept into his livid face.

The woman watched him patiently for a full hour, more than once her pale lips moving as if in prayer. From her dark eyes there seemed to stream forth a visible radiance of love which brooded in silent blessing over the helpless form at her side.

At length the sick man stirred a little, his eyes unclosed. "Has it been told thee what hath befallen our son?" he said, slowly and clearly.

The woman bowed her head. "It hath been told me," she whispered brokenly, "that his life was ended even as----"

"He was crucified," said Caiaphas, still in the same slow, clear tone, "even as was the Nazarene. God is just. Blood for blood, it is the law, and hath been from the beginning."

"God is also love," said Anna, looking fearfully into her husband\'s face.

He returned the look with one of full intelligence. "Do not fear," he said, gently, "it is best that the matter hath been spoken between us; it were like an open grave else. The madness hath passed from my brain now, and I see---" He paused, and so terrible a look came over his face that his wife cried out faintly.

"God is love," she repeated in a low voice, wringing her hands; "He will forgive. How couldst thou know that the Nazarene was the Anointed One? Yet, even he said, \'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!\' as they drove the nails into his hands."

"Woman!" said Caiaphas, with something of his old high-priestly authority, "hold thy peace, and forget that thou hast spoken blasphemy. Didst think then that I--I--the High Priest, was ready to confess that the Nazarene was the Messiah of Israel! I am ready to confess that he was an innocent man; and I am blood-guilty in that I brought about his death. God hath punished me by slaying my son, even as he punished David for his sin. After this once we will speak of the thing no more; it shall never again be named between us. Nor shall it be made known to any other. It were not meet that so shameful a thing be bruited about concerning the High Priest. Our flesh and blood is accursed."

The mother\'s face flushed hotly. "The lad was innocent!" she cried. "He was sinned against most foully, but he himself sinned not. He is in Paradise, for he hath the word of the Lord."

"What meanest thou? Who told thee concerning the thing?" said Caiaphas, raising himself up and fixing his burning eyes upon her face.

"I had it from a lad named Stephen, who was even as a brother to him who was our son--Titus, he was called. As he hung upon the cross in agony, the Lord spake to him and said, \'This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.\'"

"Who is this Stephen?" said Caiaphas, in a low, terrible voice. "And whom dost thou call Lord?"

Anna trembled with terror, she tried to speak, but the words died upon her lips.

"Speak, woman!"

"Stephen is--the son of the Greek who took our child. The man hath been punished for his sin. He also perished with the Lord."

There was an awful silence. Then Caiaphas again spoke, and his voice was as the voice of a stranger in the ears of Anna. "This Stephen, the son of the malefactor, doth he still live?"

"He--lives; but, oh my husband, I beseech thee--do not harm him, so innocent, so heavenly a one!"

But through the words of her entreaty sounded the inexorable tones of the High Priest\'s voice.

"Blood for blood! The iniquities of the fathers shall be visited upon the children, even unto the third and fourth generations. It is the law."