The Silver Cross; Or, The Carpenter of Nazareth

'And then,' said another vagabond, 'if Jesus of Nazareth is a Messiah, as so many others have been before him, and so many others will be after him, ‘tis a misfortune if they kill him; but Messiahs are never wanting in Israel.'

'And if they put him to death!' said Genevieve, 'it is because he has loved you; it is because he pitied your wretchedness; it is because he has shamed the rich for their hypocrisy and their hardness of heart towards those who suffer!'

'It is true; he constantly predicted for us the kingdom of God on earth,' replied the vagabond again, reclining on his bench, as also his companion, to warm themselves by the rays of the morning sun; 'yet these fine days he promised us do not arrive, and we are just as poor to-day as we were yesterday.'

'Eh! and what tells you that these fine days, promised by him, will not arrive to-morrow?' continued Genevieve; 'does not the harvest require time to take root, to grow, and to ripen? Poor, blind and impatient that you are, recollect that to leave him to die, whom you call your friend, before he has fertilized the good seeds he has sown in so many hearts, is to trample under foot, is to destroy whilst yet only grass, a harvest perhaps magnificent.'

The two vagabonds remained silent, shaking their heads, and Genevieve left them, saying to herself with profound grief:

'Shall I encounter, then, everywhere nothing but ingratitude, forgetfulness, treason and cowardice? Oh! it is not the body of Jesus that will be crucified, it will be his heart.'

The slave hastened to join the soldiers who were approaching the house of Pontius Pilate. – At the moment she doubled her pace, she remarked a sort of tumult amongst the Jerusalem militia, which suddenly stopped. She mounted on a bench and saw Banaias alone at the entrance of a narrow arcade which the soldiers had to cross to reach the governor's house, audaciously barring the passage, brandishing his long stick terminated by a knob of iron.

'Ah! this one at least does not abandon him he calls his friend!' thought Genevieve.

'By the shoulders of Samson!' cried Banaias in his loud voice, 'if you do not instantly set our friend at liberty, militia of Beelzebub! I'll beat you as dry as the flail beats the wheat on the barn floor! Ah! if I had but time to collect a band of companions as resolute as myself to defend our friend of Nazareth, ‘tis an order I would give you instead of a simple prayer, and this simple prayer I repeat: set our friend at liberty, or else by the jawbone used by Samson, I will destroy you all like he destroyed the Philistines!'

'Do you hear the wretch! he calls this audacious menace a prayer!' exclaimed the officer commanding the militia, who prudently kept himself in the middle of his troop; 'run your lances through the miserable; strike him with your swords if he does not make way for you!'

The Jerusalem militia was not a very valiant troop, for they had hesitated before arresting Jesus, who advanced towards them, alone and disarmed: so that, despite the orders of their chief, they remained a moment undecided before the menacing attitude of Banaias.

In vain did Jesus, whose firm and gentle voice was heard by Genevieve, endeavor to appease his defender, and entreat him to retire. Banaias resumed in a threatening tone, thus replying to the supplications of the young Nazarene:

'Do not trouble yourself about me, friend; you are a man of peace and quietness. I am a man of violence and battle, when the feeble are to be protected. Let me alone. I will stop these wicked soldiers here, until the noise of the tumult has apprised and brought my companions; and then, by the five hundred concubines of Solomon, who danced before him, you shall see these devils of the militia dance to the tune of our knobbed sticks, keeping time on their helmets and cuirasses.'

'How much longer will you suffer yourselves to be insulted by a single man, you cowardly dogs?' exclaimed the officer to his men.

'Oh! if I had not orders not to quit the Nazarene more than his shadow, I would set you an example, and my long sword should already have cut the throat of this brigand!'

'By Abraham's nose! ‘tis I who will rip open your belly, you who talk so big, and release my friend!' exclaimed Banaias. 'I am only one; but a falcon is worth much more than a hundred blackbirds.'

And Banaias fell on the soldiers of the militia, swaying about his redoubtable stick, despite the prayers of Jesus.

At first, surprised and shaken by so much audacity, some soldiers of the front rank of the escort gave way; but presently, ashamed at not resisting one man, they rallied, attacked Banaias in their turn, who, overcome by numbers, despite his heroic courage, fell dead, covered with wounds. Genevieve then saw the soldiers, in their rage, throw to the bottom of a well, near the arcade, the bleeding body of the only defender of Jesus. After this exploit, the officer, brandishing his long sword, placed himself at the head of his troop, and they arrived at the house of Pontius Pilate, where Genevieve had accompanied her mistress, Aurelia, a few days previous.

The sun was already high. Attracted by the noise of the struggle of Banaias with the soldiers, several inhabitants of Jerusalem, issuing from their houses, had followed the militia. The house of the Roman governor was in the richest quarters of the town. The persons who, from curiosity, accompanied Jesus, far from pitying him, loaded him with insults and hootings.

'At last, then,' cried some, 'the Nazarene, who brought so much trouble and confusion on our town, is taken!'

'The demagogue who set the beggars against princes! The impious! who blasphemed our holy religion! The audacious! who brought trouble into our families, praising the prodigal and debauched sons,' said one of the emissaries, who had followed the troop.

'The infamous! who would pervert our wives,' said the other emissary, 'by encouraging adultery, since he snatched one of these sinners from the punishment she deserved!'

'Thanks be to God!' added a money-changer, 'if this Nazarene is put to death, which will only be justice, we can then re-open our counters under the colonnade of the temple, whence this profaner and his band had driven us, and where we dared not return.'

'What fools we were to fear his assemblage of beggars!' added a dealer in merchandise.

'See if one of them has simply dared rebel to defend this Nazarene, by whose name they were always swearing, he whom they called their friend!'

'Let them finish with the brawler! Let him be crucified, and we shall hear no more of him!'

'Yes, yes, death to the Nazarene!' cried the people, amongst whom was Genevieve. And this assemblage still increasing, repeated, with greater fury, those fatal cries:

'Death to the Nazarene!'

'Alas!' said the slave to herself, 'is there a more horrible fate than that of this young man; abandoned by the poor, whom he befriended; hated by the rich, to whom he preached humility and charity! How deep must be the bitterness of his heart!'

The soldiers, followed by the crowd, had arrived opposite the house of Pilate.

Several high priests, doctors of law, senators, and other pharisees, among whom were Caiphus, Doctor Baruch, and the banker Jonas, had joined the troop and walked at its head. One of these pharisees having cried:

'Seigneurs, let us enter Pontius Pilate's that he may instantly condemn the cursed Nazarene to death!'

Caiphus replied with a pious air:

'My seigneurs, we cannot enter the house of a heathen: this stain would prevent our eating the passover to-day.'

'No!' added Doctor Baruch, 'we cannot commit this abominable impiety.'

'Only hear them!' said to the crowd one of the emissaries, with an accent of admiration.

'Do you hear the holy men? What respect they profess for the commandment of our holy religion! Ah! these are not like that impious Nazarene, who rails and blasphemes at the most sacred things, when he dares to declare that we need not observe the Sabbath!'

'Oh! the infamous hypocrites!' said Genevieve to herself: 'how well Jesus knew them; how much reason he had to unmask them. They now hesitate to enter the house of a heathen, for fear of soiling their sandals; but they do not fear to soil their soul by demanding from this heathen to shed the blood of the righteous, one of their compatriots. Ah! poor youth of Nazareth! they will make you pay with your life for the courage you have shown in attacking these rich swindlers.'

The officer of the militia having entered the palace of Pontius Pilate, whilst the escort remained outside guarding the prisoner, Genevieve mounted behind a cart stopped by the crowd, and endeavored to keep in sight the young man of Nazareth. She saw him standing in the midst of the soldiers, his long chestnut hair falling over his shoulders, his looks still calm and gentle, and a smile of resignation on his lips. He contemplated the tumultuous and threatening crowd with a sort of painful commiseration, as if he had pitied these men for their blindness and iniquity.

Insults were offered him on all sides. The soldiers themselves treated him with so much brutality that the blue mantle he wore over his white tunic was already almost torn from his back. Jesus, to so many outrages and ill treatment, opposed an unalterable placidity, and on his pale and handsome features Genevieve did not see the least impatience or the least anger betray itself. Suddenly these words were heard circulating through the crowd:

'Ah! here he comes, the Seigneur Pontius Pilate!'

'He will at length pronounce sentence of death against this cursed Nazarene.'

'Luckily ‘tis not far from hence to Golgotha, where they execute criminals; we can go and see him crucified!'

In fact, Genevieve soon saw the Governor, Pontius Pilate, appear at the door of his house; no doubt he had been just aroused from sleep, for he was enveloped in a long morning robe; his hair and beard were in disorder; his eyes, red and swollen, appeared dazzled at the rays of the rising sun; he could scarcely conceal several yawns, and seemed greatly annoyed at having been awakened so early, having, perhaps, as usual prolonged his supper until daybreak. So, addressing Doctor Baruch in a tone of harshness and ill-humor, like a person anxious to abridge an interview that was unpleasant, said to him:

'What is the crime of which you accuse this young man?'

'If he were not a malefactor, we should not have brought him to you.'

Pontius Pilate, annoyed at the short reply of Doctor Baruch, continued impatiently, and stifling another yawn:

'Well, since you say he has sinned against the law, take him; judge him according to your law.'

And the governor turned his back upon the Doctor, shrugging his shoulders, and re-entered his house.

For a moment Genevieve thought the young man saved, but the reply of Pontius Pilate produced much indignation amongst the crowd.