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believed on Him at once. It would have been nothing then to have gathered an army and put Him immediately upon the throne. But now— !” “ But now?” r e p e a t e d Mary, her eyes bright with scorn, her lips thin with an guish and indignation. “ Well—nowll-He has fail ed us miserably. He has let Himself get into a terrible strait. He simply played into their hands. I can only think He had been asleep and did not realize—or—perhaps He is still figuring even yet to per form some greater miracle, break the bands that bind Him, and show the world what He is; but He has gone too far! He does not seem to realize what power the Sanhedrin has. He simply lost His nerve and went with them as quietly as if it were nothing, without a word of protest! He is figuring, I suppose, that He will be able to argue them out o f it with wise words. But things have gone too far. He ought to be warned. It is too late for that sort of thing. Something must be done at once, and done quickly and well, or there is no hope left. They have taken Him to Pilate! And Pilate dare not be friendly! He has too much to lose!” “ To Pilate!” ary stepped back with a quick convulsive pressure
search the house for her. I have no time to trifle.” With a frightened glance back of her, the woman turned and hurried into an inner room, leaving the lamp blinking upon the table beside the man who stood impatiently tapping his sandaled foot on the earthen floor. There was a sound of low voices, a frightened exclama tion, and then hurried steps in the next room. The door was opened, and Mary stood in the room, a look of fear on her delicate, exquisite features, her hands clasped convulsively over her heart as if with ter rible premonition, traces of re cent tears upon her pale cheeks, her eyes large with anxiety as she peered into the shadows of the room to see the man who stood lowering beside the door. Then she stepped nearer and lifted the lamp to throw the light more freely on his features. Suddenly she put down the lamp upon the table, her face hardened into scorn and indig nation. “ You?” she exclaimed in a low, challenging voice. "You ! Judas! You dared to come to me?” The man cringed angrily into the shadow and put up a hand to stay her speech. “ Listen!” he said gruffly, “ I have words to speak to you !” “ And why should I listen to you?” asked Mary in a clear tone that could be heard dis
T h e A u t h o r a t H er D e s k ¿TY race L ivingston H ill is the popular author of nu- merous Christian novels and short stories, each of which, like this one, seeks to honor the Lord Jesus Christ. Assuming here a difficult and often dangerous task, that of supplying details to the Bible record, Mrs. Hill, with reverent spirit and gifted' pert, has sought only to con firm the much maligned truth o f the Virgin Birth. Those who' read will not wonder that she is often sought as a Bible conference speaker and welcomed as a loyal expo nent of the faith once for all delivered. T he K ing ’ s B usi ness is happy and proud to count her among its friends.
o f her hand upon her heart, new anguish in her eyes, and reeled as if she would have fallen had not her watchful friend stepped from the doorway and put an arm close about her. Then Mary rallied and her eyes flashed fire. “ They have taken Him to Pilate! My Son ! My Holy One! And you stand here, you who are responsible for it, to prate and excuse yourself and say you did it for His sake! Stand aside! Don’t waste my time further! I must go to H im !” “ That is what I have come here for, to take you to Him,” answered the man. “ But first, I must tell you some thing. There is something you can do, a way to save Him, if you will.” Mary turned upon him quickly. “ What do you mean, something I can do ? When you have done your worst ? And who are you to tell me how to save Him? Am I to pay you thirty more pieces o f silver to have you use your tainted influence to save Him after you have sold Him for your own gain? You traitor! You who sold your Lord for silver! Would you also ask more silver of me, His anguished mother?” “ You do not trust me!” whined the man. “ I swear I come as a friend, yet you do not trust me!”
tinctly by her friend at the door of the inner room. “ If there were some news of Him, could they not have sent some friend and not a traitor? If He is dead, Judas, you have killed Him! You, who pretended to be His most earnest follower! I know what you have done! I have heard it all from an eye-witness!” “ He is not dead,” said Judas sullenly, “ and I have done nothing but what should have been done. What I did, I did for His sake!” “ For His sake!” said Mary contemptuously. “ You be trayed Him with a kiss!” Her voice was hot with scorn. “ I did it for His sake!” persisted Judas. “ The time had come when, if He was to be placed upon the throne,He must be made to manifest His power and show what He was and what He could do. Just little miracles were not enough any more. There must be some great public mani festation. I was sure that when He saw that He was hope lessly in the hands of His enemies, with soldiers surround ing Him, He would be forced to manifest His power and show them that He was what He claimed to be. If He had passed through their midst and disappeared, got out of their hands miraculously, there are many that would have
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