CHAPTER XXXIII.
METHINKS at last I hold this Man," said Caiaphas, pacing his audience chamber to calm a strange unrest that filled his soul.
In a corner of the room beside the window, looking out with love-struck eyes, gazed Rebekah, hearing, but scarce heeding, her father's words, for they brought no comfort to her unhinged soul.
"He is before Annas now, the proud Nazarene, and if there be one who can sift a man as wheat"—here Caiaphas made an expressive gesture, turning his hands upwards, as if they were cups in which he sifted flour or grain—" 't is thy grandfather Annas."
"Yet he will find no fault in Him," replied Rebekah absently and perversely. Why she said the words she knew not, except that in her heart a faint loyalty to Lazarus twinkled.
"Why sayest thou this?" asked Caiaphas excitedly; "dost thou believe that He is sent from God?"
"I believe nothing; I know nothing," said Rebekah coldly.
Caiaphas eyed her anxiously. Woman has, at all times, been the one enigma no man can solve.
"Then why speakest thou?"
A sullen silence; then steps across the courtyard below, and muttered voices.
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