I see more clearly the trick Hanan is playing me.”
“It is even claimed by some of his followers,” Ambivius volunteered, “that he is God Himself.”
“I have no report that he has so said,” Pilate replied.
“Why not?” his wife breathed. “Why not?
Gods have descended to earth before.”
“Look you,” Pilate said. “I have it by creditable report, that after this Jesus had worked some wonder whereby a multitude was fed on several loaves and fishes, the foolish Galileans were for making him a king.
Against his will they would make him a king.
To escape them he fled into the mountains.
No madness there.
He was too wise to accept the fate they would have forced upon him.”
“Yet that is the very trick Hanan would force upon you,” Miriam reiterated. “They claim for him that he would be king of the Jews—an offence against Roman law, wherefore Rome must deal with him.”
Pilate shrugged his shoulders.
“A king of the beggars, rather; or a king of the dreamers.
He is no fool. He is visionary, but not visionary of this world’s power.
All luck go with him in the next world, for that is beyond Rome’s jurisdiction.”
“He holds that property is sin—that is what hits the Pharisees,” Ambivius spoke up.
Pilate laughed heartily.
“This king of the beggars and his fellow-beggars still do respect property,” he explained. “For, look you, not long ago they had even a treasurer for their wealth.
Judas his name was, and there were words in that he stole from their common purse which he carried.”
“Jesus did not steal?” Pilate’s wife asked.
“No,” Pilate answered; “it was Judas, the treasurer.”
“Who was this John?” I questioned. “He was in trouble up Tiberias way and Antipas executed him.”
“Another one,” Miriam answered. “He was born near Hebron.
He was an enthusiast and a desert-dweller.
Either he or his followers claimed that he was Elijah raised from the dead.
Elijah, you see, was one of our old prophets.”
“Was he seditious?” I asked.
Pilate grinned and shook his head, then said:
“He fell out with Antipas over the matter of Herodias.
John was a moralist.
It is too long a story, but he paid for it with his head.
No, there was nothing political in that affair.”
“It is also claimed by some that Jesus is the Son of David,” Miriam said. “But it is absurd. Nobody at Nazareth believes it.
You see, his whole family, including his married sisters, lives there and is known to all of them.
They are a simple folk, mere common people.”
“I wish it were as simple, the report of all this complexity that I must send to Tiberius,” Pilate grumbled. “And now this fisherman is come to Jerusalem, the place is packed with pilgrims ripe for any trouble, and Hanan stirs and stirs the broth.”
“And before he is done he will have his way,” Miriam forecast. “He has laid the task for you, and you will perform it.”
“Which is?” Pilate queried.
“The execution of this fisherman.”
Pilate shook his head stubbornly, but his wife cried out:
“No!
No!
It would be a shameful wrong.
The man has done no evil.
He has not offended against Rome.”
She looked beseechingly to Pilate, who continued to shake his head.
“Let them do their own beheading, as Antipas did,” he growled. “The fisherman counts for nothing; but I shall be no catspaw to their schemes.
If they must destroy him, they must destroy him.
That is their affair.”
“But you will not permit it,” cried Pilate’s wife.