Читать книгу The Robber - Bertram Brooker - Страница 8

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It was strange to be back in the familiar room. For a moment Barabbas felt that he had never been away. He watched absentmindedly as Judas began knocking two flints together. In a moment a spark was smouldering in a scrap of oily rag. Judas bent over, blew it into flame, and held it against the lamp. The wick, lying in the neck of a boat-shaped vessel, spluttered at first, but at length a steady plume of light rose higher and higher, casting long shadows across the floor.

Then Judas poured water and left Barabbas washing his feet while he went out to fetch cups and a wineskin from a back room.

"Now that I know it is you," said Judas haltingly, his old affection mingling with pride and anxiety, "it is still strange. To think that the Jeshua I once knew is Barabbas the robber." His voice quavered and his eyelids twitched as he met the other's gaze.

He reached up and his fingers gripped the robber's shoulder, as though to make sure he was real.

"There are those who say Barabbas is a monster, a giant, a demon," continued Judas in an awestruck voice. "But others say he is a man of pity, a preacher, a prophet, who gives all that he steals to the poor. I have heard men say they would like to fall into your hands. They are eager to hear your prophecies from your own mouth, for here your words are garbled."

"What do they say that I prophesy?" Barabbas was curious.

"Some say you talk of a fearful day of judgment, not of fire from heaven, but of fires lit by vengeful men. Others say you do not point to the world's end, but to a beginning, a new day, a new kind of life, a day when there will be no judgment and no judges, no priests, no governors, a world without rich or poor," he paused breathlessly. There was a frenzied look in his speckled eyes.

"You are another man, a new man. Tell me, then, Barabbas! Is this that you prophesy, is it to come by miracle?"

"You know me, Judas. You know I put no faith in miracles."

Judas flung his hands together and Barabbas looked down at him, pity and wonder mingled in his face.

"Why have you come, then?" cried Judas, standing on tiptoe to peer into Barabbas's face. "Why have you suddenly come?"

The robber drew his heavy brows together in a frown, as if the question displeased him.

"I have been directed by the stars, perhaps. Do you believe in the leading of the stars?" He spoke mockingly, as he thought of the flashing meteor he had seen with John at the mouth of the cave.

Judas said, gravely: "I have not studied the stars."

"Yet you are looking for a sign."

"Yes. But not in the stars."

"In man, perhaps. In man's heart."

"Ah, you have not changed, Jeshua. That is how you spoke in the old days. Always man! Man alone! Man omnipotent!"

"And you have not changed either, but you have grown stronger with some new truth," said Barabbas with a severe glance.

"Yes."

"What do you believe, now?"

"Let us go up on the roof," said Judas, with impatience. "Bring the figs, and let us take the wine with us."

Judas lifted the lamp and held it high to light the stairs. Barabbas picked up the wineskin. It was flat, almost empty. He put it under his arm, took a handful of figs, and followed Judas.

They went up the stone stairs to the upper room where Judas slept. It was scarcely changed, except for a stoutly built table with shelves underneath. The shelves were heaped with scrolls.

Judas set down the lamp and moved toward a corner where a ladder was fastened upright against the wall, the rungs nailed with wooden pegs. He went up first and lifted a heavy door, sliding it aside on the roof. Barabbas handed up the wineskin and clambered out, vaulting at once to his feet.