When Pilate descended the steps of the Tribunal, where, half from absence of mind and half from a great half-formed uncertainty, he had tempered justice with no unsparing hand, he saw Caiaphas hurrying on in front.
"Art loath to meet me, Caiaphas?" he said to himself. Then, turning to a centurion, he bid him follow the High Priest and ask him whether he could have speech with him in the ante-chamber or at his dwelling. " 'T is one to me," he said, "so I have speech with him."
More feelings than one made Caiaphas avoid a meeting with the Procurator. Anger and fear contended in his heart, and the two are ill-matched companions. He was angry with Pilate for letting go free the two Roman soldiers whom he had sent up for trial for not obeying his orders to lay hands on the Nazarene. Indeed, they had played a double game, for, instead of returning to own themselves defeated, they had appealed to Pilate, and thus forestalled Caiaphas's complaint of them.
"Everything leadeth me to believe that this man thinketh the Nazarene to be the Christ," he muttered to himself. Then he feared a little what Pilate would say at his having dared to attempt to lay hands on the Nazarene, without first asking his permission. Further, if it had come to Pilate's ears that he had visited Bethany in the company of Nicodemus and sent for the two Marys to inquire of them, then indeed Pilate could scoff with reason.
"Tell the illustrious Governor that I have much to write this morning," was the message he returned to Pilate, hoping that his insolence might so offend
