Lights moved within the house, and then one window after another was bolted and barred from within.  Still the silence endured until the ear was grown used to it and could hear sounds very far off, from deep down below the house itself, but the walls did not open and the scene did not change.  A dull noise, bad to hear, resounded as from beneath a vault, and then another and another—­the sound of cruel blows upon a human body.  Then a pause.

“Wilt thou renounce it?” asked the voice of Lazarus.

“Kyrie eleison, Christie eleison!” came the answer, brave and clear.

“Lay on, Levi, and let thy arm be strong!”

And again the sound of blows, regular, merciless, came up from the bowels of the earth.

“Dost thou repent?  Dost thou renounce?  Dost thou deny?”

“I repent of my sins—­I renounce your ways—­I believe in the Lord—­”

The sacred name was not heard.  A smothered groan as of one losing consciousness in extreme torture was all that came up from below.

“Lay on, Levi, lay on!”

“Nay,” answered the strong rabbi, “the boy will die.  Let us leave him here for this night.  Perchance cold and hunger will be more potent than stripes, when he shall come to himself.”

“As though sayest,” answered the father in angry reluctance.

Again all was silent.  Soon the rays of light ceased to shine through the crevices of the outer shutters, and sleep descended upon the quarter of the Jews.  Still the scene in the vision changed not.  After a long stillness a clear young voice was heard speaking.

“Lord, if it be Thy will that I die, grant that I may bear all in Thy name, grant that I, unworthy, may endure in this body the punishments due to me in spirit for my sins.  And if it be Thy will that I live, let my life be used also for Thy glory.”

The voice ceased and the cloud of passing time descended upon the vision and was lifted again and again.  And each time the same voice was heard and the sound of torturing blows, but the voice of the boy was weaker every night, though it was not less brave.

“I believe,” it said, always.  “Do what you will, you have power over the body, but I have the Faith over which you have no power.”

So the days and the nights passed, and though the prayer came up in feeble tones, it was born of a mighty spirit and it rang in the ears of the tormentors as the voice of an angel which they had no power to silence, appealing from them to the tribunal of the Throne of God Most High.

Day by day, also, the rabbis and the elders began to congregate together at evening before the house of Lazarus and to talk with him and with each other, debating how they might break the endurance of his son and bring him again into the synagogue as one of themselves.  Chief among them in their councils was Levi, the Short-handed, devising new tortures for the frail body to bear and boasting how he would conquer the stubborn boy by the might of his hands to hurt.  Some of the rabbis shook their heads.