Page:Lazarus, a tale of the world's great miracle.djvu/161

Rh "Methinks 'twixt thee and me there is not much to choose," the soldier muttered; "but as thou wilt."

At his word, the Magdalene lifted the frail figure of the Virgin, with almost a man's vigour, yet with all a woman's tenderness, on to the horse.

"Thou art not so fearful for thyself," the Roman went on coarsely, as he placed the Magdalene on the horse and shook her fallen tresses around her. The Magdalene blushed; then, with the appealing, trustful manner that had been her charm and her perdition in days gone by, "Friend," she said, "speak no more to me in words of jest. Magdalene, the sinner, is no more. We are two lone, sorrowful women who look to thy manliness for protection."

Her sweet seriousness touched the Roman soldier, and, beckoning to his comrade to lead on the horse, he took the reins and led his own behind. For nearly an hour the strange cavalcade proceeded thus in the lightening darkness through the streets of Jerusalem, and the sun was up and the shadows were sharp and well defined when they halted at the house of Caiaphas.

As to Caiaphas, he hardly knew himself why he had commanded the soldiers to bring the mother of the Nazarene to him. Furious at having been foiled in capturing the Christ, and with a growing conviction that he was being treacherously dealt with by those in his employ; full of suspicion as those are who are themselves unworthy—and enraged at any obstruction to his arrogance, any crossing of his will, he had been prompted in his action partly by the wish to lay hands on all or any connected with the