seek to destroy all those who had believed in Him and followed Him, or who testified of Him by word or pen. Indeed, it had been common talk amongst the disciples and the followers of Christ that they were ready to die with Him, if needs be. Thomas, who was ever wont to see the darker side of things, had even stated openly that to be a follower of Jesus meant certain death; and certainly the terrible end of John the Baptist justified this assertion. Then, out of these very thoughts, that rose from the gloomy mists, not so much of doubt as of amazement, there came to Mary an illumined fancy, big with consoling possibilities, glorious in its awakening of faith. What if this approaching death were one of mercy? What if Lazarus were being taken from the wrath to come—from terrible temptation, from loss of faith, or from a violent and awful death?
"The ways of the Lord are past finding out," she murmured to herself, "but who shall gainsay them?"
Then, as the darkness began to fall, she fell to speculating, as we have so often speculated in gazing on the lifeless features of those we love—"What then is death? This strange, brief moment when all is over?"
"I will ask the Lord," she murmured to herself; but even while she spoke she heard the gate of the garden being shaken, and a voice calling her. A quick pain shot through her heart. "The Lord cometh not," she said to herself; for the Holy One of Israel needed no opening of gates, and was wont to appear to them suddenly and unexpectedly. But it was night now, and, for fear of the Jews, it was
