While she spoke, Rebekah uttered not a word, and all nature, the creeping things of night, the humming, buzzing things that hang on trees and boughs, all seemed to hush to do obeisance to the soul the Lord had won.
Then, like a beacon from heaven, a faint moon crept out from behind the clouds, so that the two women could just discern each other on the pathway; and the Magdalene looking, saw the face of Rebekah glowing with anger, distorted by a sullen despair and wounded vanity and wrath; and, in her heart, there rose a tender feeling for this woman, who loved and was not loved by Lazarus. And all this time Rebekah's arm was beating with strange, nervous movement beneath her cloak. She found it hard to anger herself with one so meek and gentle as Mary Magdalene; but the fierce, unrelenting, domineering spirit of Caiaphas was strong within her. To be spurned by Lazarus, triumphed over by a harlot, how could so proud a nature brook such ignominy?
"Am I not as beautiful as thou?" she asked, turning, while she did so, without knowing it, her beautiful face upward toward the moon. "Why should Lazarus not love me?"
"Thou art indeed more beautiful than I," replied the Magdalene; "but who can direct love?"
"I tell thee he shall love me," cried Rebekah, growing furious again, like a stormy sea that has been calm during a short lull. "He shall need me, he shall serve me, and, if thou wert not here, I would make him love me. It is thou, thou, who hast beguiled the hearts of thousands of men with
