“Ah!”
He seemed indifferent. What Iohanan had said concerning the Son of David stirred him like the point of a sword. He felt that there could be no such person; his father had put a stop to all that. And yet, if there were!
His indifference surprised Herodias.
“What are you staring at?” she asked; and to assure herself she looked over the balustrade. “That carrion? You should——”
Her hand drawn across her throat completed the sentence.
The tetrarch shook his head. There was no hurry. Then, too, the prophet was useful. He reviled Jerusalem, and that flattered Galilee. But there was another reason, which he kept to himself. Iohanan affected him as no one had done before.
He feared him, chained though he was, and into that fear something akin to admiration entered. In his heart he wished he had let him alone. No, there was no hurry. As he assured her of that the prophet looked up.
“Jezebel!”
The guests approached. Their number had increased. There were Greek merchants from Hippos and Sepphoris, Pharisees from Jericho, and Scribes from [pg 40]Jerusalem. Herodias clapped her hands. A negro, naked to the waist, appeared.
“Take him below.”