and he did so, this time oblivious of courtesy or chivalry to Rebekah, absorbed in the one great fear that he might miss the Lord.
So, in the moonlit night, he tore along the narrow streets—as he had torn along the broad road following the Christ—all the way to the Mount of Olives and into the very Garden of Gethsemane.
When Lazarus gained the side of Jesus, the answer to the question in his mind was given without his seeking it.
"A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another." Lazarus started; the eyes of Jesus seemed to fall on him, enveloping him with the tenderness of infinite love, a love wide enough to enfold the world.
Then, in the dark, Iscariot crept up to Rebekah, who was leaning faint and powerless against the porch that stood out from the house, her figure casting a great black shadow on the wall, which was almost white in the moon's silvery light.
"Shall I, then, save the Nazarene?" he asked.
"Nay, slay Him, slay Him quickly; go earn thy thirty pieces of silver, and, for aught I care," she added furiously, "slay Lazarus too."
And, with a hideous cry, the traitor fled; and the haughty, vengeful maiden wended her way homewards through the silent streets, the hot blood surging to her ears and brow, and oblivious of place and hour and danger and of all, save that Lazarus was gone from her forever and that she hated the Nazarene with an undying hatred.
