His fate was decided by this shattering of his last
hope. When it was dark he slunk past a farm.
Ropes hung over the walls; he pulled one off and
hurried to the mountain. The sun was setting
behind Jerusalem, over the heights, like a huge, red,
lustreless pane of glass. Once more for the
last time his eye sought the light, the departing light.
And a cross stood out large and dark against the red
circle; the tall cross at Golgotha right in the centre
of the gloomy sun. Gigantic and dark it towered
against the crimson background—horrible!
The despairing heart of Judas could not endure it.
With a savage curse he went up to a fig-tree.
James was behind him. He had seen Judas climb
the slope, had waved his cloak and cried to him:
“It is I, James. Brother, I come from the
Master. Listen, brother, mercy for sinners.
Mercy for all who repent. Listen.”
Almost breathless he reached the fig-tree.
Arms and legs hung down lifeless, the mouth drawn in,
the tongue protruding from the lips. The body
swung to and fro in the evening breeze. The
wretched man had not waited for the Saviour’s
pardon.
Towards the end of that same day the old man of the
East, who came from the desert where great thoughts
dwell, the weary old man who called down twice the
curse of everlasting unrest on the grandson of Uriah,
went to a stonecutter in Jerusalem. He thought
it time to order his tombstone. And on it were
to be cut the letters “I.N.R.I.”
“Did you also belong to the Nazarene?”
asked the stonecutter.
“Why do you ask that?”
“Because it is the inscription on His cross.”
“It is the inscription on my grave,” said
the old man, “and it means: ‘IN NIRVANA
REST I.’”
CHAPTER XXXVI
When all was over, Joseph of Arimathea, a blunt, outspoken
disciple of Jesus, went to Pilate, the Governor, to
ask him that the Prophet’s body might be buried
that same evening.
“Have His legs been broken?” Pilate inquired
of him.
“Sir, that is not necessary. He is dead.”
“I do not believe you.”
“It is quite true, sir. The captain pierced
his side.”
“I have been warned about you,” said Pilate
roughly. “I shall send a guard to watch
the grave.”
“As your lordship pleases.”
“The man said that He would rise from the dead
on the third day. It is likely that His friends
will help Him!”
Joseph drew himself up in front of the Governor and
said: “Sir, what ground have you for such
a suspicion? Have we Jews proved ourselves so
absolutely lawless in our fatherland? Surely
not so much so that this best of all men, this Divine
Man, should have been condemned to death without a
shadow of reason, and His followers, too, treated with
contempt as if they were cheats and body-snatchers.”
“You have to thank your priests for that,”
said Pilate, with cold indifference.
