Groping with tear-blinded eyes towards the tomb, the boy stretched his arms lovingly around the great stone that stopped its entrance; then suddenly realizing that he could never go any closer to the One inside, never see Him again, he leaned his head hopelessly against the rock, and gave way to his feeling of utter loneliness and despair.
How long he stood there, he did not know. When he looked up again, the women had gone, and it was nearly dark. Phineas and several other men lingered in the black shadows of the trees, and Joel joined them.
Roman guards came presently. A stout cord was stretched across the stone, its ends firmly fastened, and sealed with the seal of Cæsar. A watch-fire was kindled near by; then the Roman sentinels began their steady tramp! tramp! as they paced back and forth.
High overhead the stars began to set their countless watch-fires in the heavens; then the white full moon of the Passover looked down, and all night long kept its silent vigil over the forsaken tomb of the sleeping Christ.
Abigail had found shelter for the night with friends, in a tent just outside the city; but Joel and Phineas took their way back to Bethany.
Little was said as they trudged along in the moonlight. Joel thought only of one thing,—his great loss, the love of which he had been bereft. But to Phineas this death meant much more than the separation from the best of friends; it meant the death of a cause on which he had staked his all. He must go back to Galilee to be the laughing-stock of his old neighbors. He who they trusted would have saved Israel had been put to death as a felon,—crucified between two thieves! The cause was lost; he was left to face an utter failure.
When the moon went down that morning over the hills of Judea, there were many hearts that mourned the Man of Nazareth, but not a soul in all the universe believed on Him as the Son of God.
Hope lay dead in the tomb of Joseph, with a great stone forever walling it in.