as houses tumble in earthquakes—the spirits which endure it calmly are made of stuffs sterner than common, and Ben-Hur’s was not of them. Through vistas in the future, he began to catch glimpses of a life serenely beautiful, with a home instead of a palace of state, and Esther its mistress. Again and again through the leaden-footed hours of the night he saw the villa by Misenum, and with his little countrywoman strolled through the garden, and rested in the panelled atrium; overhead the Neapolitan sky, at their feet the sunniest of sun-lands and the bluest of bays.
In plainest speech, he was entering upon a crisis with which to-morrow and the Nazarene will have everything to do.
CHAPTER IX.
Next morning, about the second hour, two men rode full speed to the doors of Ben-Hur's tents, and, dismounting, asked to see him. He was not yet risen, but gave directions for their admission.
"Peace to you, brethren," he said, for they were of his Galileans, and trusted officers. "Will you be seated?"
"Nay," the senior replied, bluntly, "to sit and be at ease is to let the Nazarene die. Rise, son of Judah, and go with us. The judgment has been given. The tree of the cross is already at Golgotha."
Ben-Hur stared at them.
"The cross!" was all he could for the moment say.
"They took him last night, and tried him," the man continued. "At dawn they led him before Pilate. Twice the Roman denied his guilt; twice he refused to give him over. At last he washed his hands, and said, 'Be it upon you then;' and they answered—"
"Who answered?"
"They—the priests and people—’His blood be upon us and our children.' "
"Holy father Abraham!" cried Ben-Hur; "a Roman kinder to an Israelite than his own kin! And if—ah, if he should indeed be the son of God, what shall ever wash
