“There’s an invalid for you!”

All of them praised Judas, and acknowledged him victor, and all chatted with him in a friendly manner; but Jesus once again had no word of praise for Judas.  He walked silently in front, nibbling the grasses, which He plucked.  And gradually, one by one, the disciples craved laughing, and went over to Jesus.  So that in a short time it came about, that they were all walking ahead in a compact body, while Judas—­the victor, the strong man—­crept on behind, choking with dust.

And lo! they stood still, and Jesus laid His hand on Peter’s shoulder, while with His other He pointed into the distance, where Jerusalem had just become visible in the smoke.  And the broad, strong back of Peter gently accepted that slight sunburnt hand.

For the night they stayed in Bethany, at the house of Lazarus.  And when all were gathered together for conversation, Judas thought that they would now recall his victory over Peter, and sat down nearer.  But the disciples were silent and unusually pensive.  Images of the road they had traversed, of the sun, the rocks and the grass, of Christ lying down under the shelter, quietly floated through their heads, breathing a soft pensiveness, begetting confused but sweet reveries of an eternal movement under the sun.  The wearied body reposed sweetly, and thought was merged in something mystically great and beautiful—­and no one recalled Judas!

Judas went out, and then returned.  Jesus was discoursing, and His disciples were listening to Him in silence.

Mary sat at His feet, motionless as a statue, and gazed into His face with upturned eyes.  John had come quite close, and endeavoured to sit so that his hand touched the garment of the Master, but without disturbing Him.  He touched Him and was still.  Peter breathed loud and deeply, repeating under his breath the words of Jesus.

Iscariot had stopped short on the threshold, and contemptuously letting his gaze pass by the company, he concentrated all its fire on Jesus.  And the more he looked the more everything around Him seemed to fade, and to become clothed with darkness and silence, while Jesus alone shone forth with uplifted hand.  And then, lo!  He was, as it were, raised up into the air, and melted away, as though He consisted of mist floating over a lake, and penetrated by the light of the setting moon, and His soft speech began to sound tenderly, somewhere far, far away.  And gazing at the wavering phantom, and drinking in the tender melody of the distant dream-like words, Judas gathered his whole soul into his iron fingers, and in its vast darkness silently began building up some colossal scheme.  Slowly, in the profound darkness, he kept lifting up masses, like mountains, and quite easily heaping them one on another:  and again he would lift up and again heap them up; and something grew in the darkness, spread noiselessly and burst its bounds.  His head felt like a dome, in the impenetrable darkness of which the colossal thing continued to grow, and some one, working on in silence, kept lifting up masses like mountains, and piling them one on another and again lifting up, and so on and on... whilst somewhere in the distance the phantom-like words tenderly sounded.