'But, alas!' added the son of Mary with an accent of much sorrow, 'you will kill the former; you would crucify the latter; you would persecute them from town to town, that all the innocent blood that has been shed upon the earth may return upon you--from the blood of Abel the just to the blood of Zachariah, whom you killed between the Temple and the altar!'

'Oh! fear nothing, friend! if these swallowers of camels wish to shed your blood,' exclaimed Banaias, striking the hilt of his large rusty cutla.s.s, 'they must first shed ours, and we await them.'

'Yes, yes,' replied the crowd, in one voice, 'fear nothing, Jesus of Nazareth, we will defend thee!'

'We will die for thee if necessary!'

'You shall be our chief!'

'Our king!'

But the son of Mary, as if he mistrusted these transports, shook his head with a sadness more and more profound; tears streamed down his cheek, and he exclaimed, in a disconsolate voice:

'Oh! Jerusalem! Jerusalem! thou who killed the prophets! thou who stone the wise men that are sent to thee! how often have I striven to a.s.semble thy children, as a hen gathers together her little ones beneath her wings, and thou would'st not; no, thou would'st not!'

And the accent of Jesus, at first cutting, severe, or indignant, in speaking of the hypocritical pharisees, was impressed with a regret so bitter, in p.r.o.nouncing these last words, that nearly all shed tears like the young man of Nazareth; presently there was a complete silence, for he was seen to lean upon the table and bury his face in his hands.

Genevieve could no longer restrain her tears; she heard one of the two emissaries say to his companion, in a tone of cruel triumph: 'The Nazarene called the doctors of law and the high-priest serpents and a race of vipers! During the whole night he has blasphemed all that is most sacred amongst men; we have him.'

'Oh, you speak of the crucified, Jesus of Nazareth,' said the other; 'we will take care that you shall not be far wrong, prophet of woe!'

Simon, seeing him still leaning on the table, weeping in silence, stooped towards him and said: 'Master, the sun will soon rise; the people of the fields, who bring their fruits to the market of Jerusalem, pa.s.s by the valley of Cedron; like us, they are eager to hear your words: they await you on the road: shall we not go and meet them?'

Jesus rose; his sad and pensive features cleared up on kissing the children, who seeing him preparing to leave, extended their little hands to him.--He then fraternally shook hands with all who offered them, and leaving the tavern of the 'Wild a.s.s' situated near one of the gates of the town leading into the country, he directed his steps towards the valley of Cedron, which the countrymen and women traversed to repair to Jerusalem, where they brought their provisions. Such was the attraction of the words of the young man of Nazareth, that most of the persons who came to pa.s.s the night in listening to him, still followed him.

Magdalen, Oliba and Banaias were amongst these individuals.

'Jane, will you also go out of the town?' said Aurelia to Chusa's wife: 'it is now daylight; let us return home; it will be imprudent to prolong our absence.'

'I shall not return yet; I will follow Jesus to the end of the world,'

replied Jane with exultation, and descending from her bench, she drew from her pocket a heavy purse filled with gold, which she placed in Simon's hand, at the moment he was about to quit the tavern after Mary's son.

'The young man has emptied his purse to-night,' said Jane to Simon, 'here is something to re-fill it.'

'You, lady, again!' replied Simon with thankfulness, at the sight of Jane: 'your charity does not flag.'

''Tis the tenderness of your master that does not flag in succoring people, consoling the poor, the repentant, and the oppressed,' replied the wife of Chusa.

Genevieve, who had anxiously listened to every word that had fallen from the emissaries of the pharisees, heard one of the two men say to the other:

'Follow and watch the Nazarene; I will run to the Seigneurs Caiphus and Baruch to render them an account of the abominable blasphemies and impieties he has uttered to-night in company with these vagabonds. The Nazarene must not this time escape the fate that awaits him;' and the two men separated. Aurelia, who seemed to have been reflecting, said to her companion: 'Jane, I cannot express to you what I experience from the words of this young man. At one time so simple, tender and elevated, at another satirical and threatening, they penetrate my heart. They are, to my mind, like a new world that is opening; for to us, poor heathens, the word charity is new. Far from being appeased, my curiosity, my interest, increase, and whatever may happen, I will follow you; what matter, after all, if we do return to our dwellings after daybreak?'

Hearing her mistress thus speak, Genevieve was very happy, for thinking of her brother slaves of Gaul, she, too, felt a great desire to hear more of the words of the young Nazarene, the friend and liberator of captives. At the moment of quitting the tavern with her mistress and the charitable wife of the seigneur Chusa, Genevieve was the witness of a scene that proved to her how speedily the word of Jesus had borne its fruit. Magdalen, the handsome, repentant courtezan, habited in the old woollen mantle of a poor woman, exchanged for such rich attire, Magdalen, following the anxious crowd behind Jesus, struck her foot against a stone in the street, tottered, and would have fallen to the ground but for the a.s.sistance of Jane and Aurelia, who, fortunately, being close to her, hastened to support her.

'What! you, Jane, the wife of the Seigneur Chusa?' said the courtezan, reddening with confusion, thinking, no doubt, of the rich presents she had received from Chusa: 'you, Jane, you have no fear in tendering me a helping hand; I, a poor creature justly despised by all honest women?'

'Magdalen,' replied Jane with charming kindness: 'did not our young master tell you to go in peace, and that all your sins would be remitted you, because you have loved much? By what right should I be more severe than Jesus of Nazareth? Your hand, Magdalen, your hand; 'tis a sister who asks it of you as a sign of pardon and oblivion of the past!'

Magdalen took the hand that Jane offered her, but it was to kiss it with respect, and cover it with tears of repentance.

'Ah! Jane,' said quietly to her friend Genevieve's mistress; 'the young man of Nazareth would be gratified to see you practice his precepts so generously.'

Jane, Aurelia and Magdalen, following the crowd, were soon outside of the gates of Jerusalem.

The sun, now rising in its splendor, illumined to a great distance the country of the valley of Cedron, whose oriental aspect, so new to Genevieve, always struck her with surprise and admiration. It being the season of spring, early this year, the plains which extended to the gates of Jerusalem were as verdant and as florid as those of Saron, which Genevieve had traversed when coming from Jaffa (the place where she had landed) to reach Jerusalem with her mistress. The white and red roses, the narcissus, the anemony, the yellow gilly-flowers, and the odiferous immortelles (or everlasting flowers) embalmed the air and enamelled the fields with their beautiful colors, still moist with the dew.

On the road-side, a cl.u.s.ter of palm trees shaded the dome of a fountain, where already came to drink the large fat buffaloes, coupled to their yoke, and conducted by laborers habited in a robe of camel skin.

Shepherds also brought to the fountain their flocks of goats with long ears, and sheep with immense tails, whilst young women of swarthy complexion, dressed in white, arrived no doubt from a village seen at a short distance, half hidden by a wood of olive trees, drew water from the fountain and returned to the village, carrying on their head, half enveloped in their white veils, large flasks of spring water. Farther on, along the dusky road which serpentined in a descent from the highest peaks of the mountains, whose summits were slowly disengaging themselves from the gray blue vapors of the morning, was seen advancing, at a snail's pace, a long caravan, which rose above the elongated necks of the camels loaded with bales.

All along the road, followed by Genevieve, blue pigeons, larks and wagtails, nesting in the groves of nopal and fir, made a chorus of sweet songs, whilst a white stork, with red legs, rose in the air holding a snake in his beak.

Several herdsmen and laborers, learning from the persons who followed the Nazarene, that he was repairing to the little hill of Cedron to preach good news, changed their route, and driving their flocks on one side, augmented the crowd attached to the steps of Jesus of Nazareth.

Jane, Aurelia and Genevieve thus approached the village, half hidden in the wood of olive trees through which they had to pa.s.s to arrive at the hill. On a sudden from this wood, they saw issue in a tumult a great number of men and women, uttering cries and horrid imprecations.

At the head of this troop marched the doctors of the law and the high priests; two of the latter were leading a handsome young girl, with naked arms and feet, barely attired in a tunic. Shame and terror were painted on her countenance bathed in tears; her scattered hair covered her naked shoulders.

From time to time, demanding grace through her sobs, she threw herself, in her despair, on her knees upon the stones in the road, despite the efforts of the two priests, who, each holding her by an arm and thus dragging her through the dust, soon forced her to rise and walk with them. The crowd overwhelmed with hootings, imprecations and insults this unfortunate girl, as terrified as a woman being led to execution.

At sight of this tumult the son of Mary, surprised, stopped; those who accompanied him also stopped, and ranged themselves in a circle behind him.

The priests and the doctors of the law, no doubt recognizing the young man of Nazareth, made a sign to the people of the village, from whom the cries and fury redoubled every moment, to stop a few paces distant. Then those wrathful people, men and women, picked up large stones, with which they remained armed, from time to time insulting and threatening the weeping prisoner.

The priests and doctors of the law, to whom the emissaries of the pharisees had gone to speak in secret, dragged the unfortunate creature to the feet of Jesus, whom she also began to implore in her terror, raising towards him her face bathed in tears, and her maimed hands covered with blood and dust. One of the priests then said to Jesus, to prove him, and in the hope of destroying him if he did not p.r.o.nounce with them.

'This woman has just been taken in the act of adultery. Now, Moses has ordered us in the law to stone the adulteress. What is your opinion thereon?'

Jesus, instead of replying, stooped down and began to write on the sand with the end of his finger. And as the pharisees, astonished, continued to question him, he rose up and said to them as also to those of the crowd, who had armed themselves with stones,

'Let him amongst you who is without sin, throw the first stone at this woman.'

Then, again stooping, he once more commenced writing on the sand without noticing those around him.

At the words of Mary's son, immense applause burst from the crowd that followed him, and Banaias exclaimed with loud laughter:

'Well spoken, friend. I am no prophet; but if pure hands are alone to stone this poor sinner, I swear by the head of Gideon that we shall see all these paragons of virtue, all these pearls of chast.i.ty, all these angels of modesty, beginning with the seigneurs priests, and the seigneurs doctors in law, throw away their sandals and tuck up their robes that they may run the quicker. Oh! what was I saying?' added Banaias, laughing still more loudly, like many others, 'there they are, dispersing like a herd of swine pursued by a wolf.'

'And swine they are!' said another.

'As to the wolf following them, 'tis their own conscience.'

And as Banaias said, at these words of Jesus, 'Let him amongst you who is without sin throw the first stone at this woman,' the doctors of the law and the priests, no doubt accused by their conscience, as well as those who at first would have stoned the adulterous woman, all in fact fearing, perhaps, the crowd that followed the young man of Nazareth, made their escape so swiftly and so quickly, that when the son of Mary rose (for he had continued to write on the sand), the crowd lately so menacing were fleeing toward the village. Jesus now saw none but the accused, still kneeling, still a supplicant, and weeping at his feet.

Smiling sweetly, showing to her the s.p.a.ce left around her by the dispersion of those who would have lately stoned her, Jesus said to her:

'Woman, where, then, are thy accusers? Has no one accused thee?'

'No, lord,' she replied, weeping bitterly.

'Neither will I condemn thee,' said Jesus. 'Go, and sin no more.'

And leaving the adulterous woman on her knees, and still under the shock of having been thus saved from death and pardoned, the son of Mary soon arrived, followed by his disciples and the crowd, to the foot of a mount, where already were a.s.sembled a good number of country people impatiently awaiting his coming, some having their provisions on donkeys or zebras, others in carts drawn by bullocks, others in wicker baskets, which they carried on their heads.