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Neither of them spoke for some time as they began the long climb to the temple level, leaving the miserable hovels below. They turned northward and passed under the great arches of the Royal Bridge which spanned the Tyropoeon valley. To the left, as they emerged from the lower level of the city, the dark mass of the Maccabean palace rose above the colonnade of the Xystus; on the right loomed the towers and porches of the Temple.

Many times in the past Barabbas had inwardly raged when he had compared the mean houses under the bridge with the magnificent structures above it. But, now, as he flung up his glance at the encircling pomp of masonry, the sublimity of the mounting walls and the thrust of countless turrets into the moonlit sky seemed to chime with his uplifted mood.

As they approached the gate of the temple, they saw on either side of the colossal porch piles of marble stacked in orderly rows beside a wooden ramp which sloped upward to a scaffolding.

"Blood of the prophets!" cried Barabbas aloud, breaking the long silence between them. "Is the temple still not finished?"

Judas was startled. "They say it will take eight years more to complete the cloisters," he said.

"It must be forty years since it was begun."

"Nearer fifty."

"What new monstrosity is this?" asked Barabbas, a moment later, as they came alongside a huge buttress-like structure jutting out from the main wall of the temple.

"That is the Hall of Hewn Stones, where the Sanhedrin sits. The chamber is circular. Half of it lies within the wall, and half without, so that princes of the house of David may be seated within the sacred enclosure. Councillors of lesser rank sit in the western half that projects outside the wall."

"These priests and princes!" scowled Barabbas. "How I despise them! I suppose this prince of yours is of the line of David?"

"No. But he is of Maccabean blood. His line descends from Salome Alexandria, the only queen who ever ruled our people. Her daughter, Mariamne, became the first wife of Herod the Great ..."

"And Mariamne was the grandmother of this adulteress Herodias, who has now married Antipas ... her own uncle," broke in Barabbas. "I have heard all about this from John the Baptist."

When they had walked on in silence several paces, Barabbas said: "Do not expect me to bow down to this prince, Judas. I despise princes, especially this one who carries messages for his cousin Herodias."

"What?" cried Judas, in amazement.

"He came across Jordan twice, first to spy for the Sanhedrin, and the second time to lure John into Jerusalem, so that Herodias could have her revenge on him for speaking evil of her."

Judas grasped Barabbas's arm and stood in his way. His eyes glistened with disbelief and denial. "He is not a spy!" he cried out. "And he would not stir one pace for Herodias."

"Yet he came twice."

"Not from Herodias ... that I swear."

"He said he came from Antipas, but it is all the same."

"It is not the same. Listen to me, Jeshua. I know of these journeys across Jordan." He stepped out of the way, and they went on, and Judas began to speak in a calmer voice. "When Antipas heard that the Baptist was openly condemning his marriage, he began wondering if the entire kingdom of his father would come to him, provided he put away his wife. He begged the prince to persuade John to come to the palace, believing the Baptist might prophesy what lay in his future. He knew that Joseph had gone to Bethabara at the command of the Sanhedrin."

"Command!" cried Barabbas.

"Yes. Not to spy! To question ... to seek!" declared Judas, vehemently.

"It is all the same."

"It is not the same. The chief priests heard of John's prophecies, and said among themselves that if a king is to come, they should seek him out, and if he were truly their king ..."

"A king would disturb their rule," said Barabbas, savagely. "As it is they can bribe Rome to keep them in office, so that they may extort tithes and taxes from the people. If a king were to come he would denounce them as thieves, and put an end to their plundering. But a king will not come."

"No," said Judas ominously. "But a man will come!"

Barabbas lifted his head. "Yes. A man will come!" he retorted.

For several paces neither spoke. They had passed out of the city wall through the Damascus Gate. The gently rising road to Bezetha went up between the fortress of Antonia and the cave tombs of the kings carved in the limestone cliffs beyond the knoll of Golgotha. Barabbas's roving eyes were drawn that way, but there were no crosses visible. The bald skull-like shape of the little hill gleamed like a mound of chalk in the moonlight.

Barabbas turned to Judas and his deep voice rang against the trunks of the trees which now lined the road. "You believe in the Messiah. Believing as you do, how can you stomach this prince who truckles to Herod's spawn and sits in the Sanhedrin?"

"Wait until you see him. He is not as you think. They would like to use him to gain their ends, or to untangle their quarrels, but he shuts himself up. He is a man of peace. He speaks no evil of anyone. He has suffered much."

The ascent was steeper, now, and Judas was out of breath, but he began speaking again, brokenly, as though he were hastening to finish before they reached the prince's house.

"They have a house in Jericho, and they locked themselves up there when they first returned after their bereavement. At Jericho there is a community of Essene monks, who live like hermits. Joseph almost joined them. He wanted to give up his estates, his rank, everything. He would have joined them, if it had not been for leaving Jerith alone in the world. But he built this house in Jerusalem, hoping that when their grief diminished she would marry, for she is past the accustomed age. She is not yet twenty, and seems even younger. She was an unexpected child, born ten years after Joseph. In Rome, as she grew up, they guarded her like a precious toy. Since their return, she has lived for Joseph. She has drawn him out of his sorrow. And now that she is fully grown, she is like a young bird taking its first flights, unsure of herself, but eager for a life of her own."

Barabbas was astonished at the note of worship in Judas's tone. His voice had taken on a chanting cadence, as though uplifted in a psalm.

At that moment a wide-tiled roof became visible between the trees, supported by a row of pillars on which the moon was shining. As Barabbas bent his head to look, he felt a touch at his elbow. Judas was turning off the road toward a tall bronze gate.

"A palace!" thought Barabbas, bitterly.

The Robber

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