While the two soldiers of the Legion were gossiping on the outside of the door the two guards on the inside were leaning heavily on their spears.
"My eyes—but sleep pricketh me," the first guard said.
"Sleep then," the second replied. "But no dreaming."
"Nay—no dreaming."
"Listen! Pilate is gone until the new day."
On the stillness the sound of heavy snoring was heard. The guards leaned against the wall, spears in hand, and were soon asleep. A trumpet from the street below sounded the hours of night. The snores of Pilate were answered by the snoring of the two guards and the palace seemed given to slumber, when the tramp of feet and knocking of standards was heard outside.
"Methinks I dream," the first guard said drowsily. "Yea, I dream there is a great commotion."
"It is the troops rushing to war!" the second guard answered sleepily.
"Troops rushing to war." The words were feebly uttered.
The knocking continued at the door, growing quicker and harder.