"Are you sure he intends to start a rebellion?" asked Simon.
"I don't know what else all this talk of a Kingdom could mean!"
"If he were an ordinary political leader—or even a Rabbi—there would be no other way," said Simon, reflectively. "But there is something about him that makes me think he is not going to do what we expect at all!"
A gust of cold wind struck them, and the men looked up. Even the western sky was black. The boat was in the middle of the lake. Out of the dark night the wind blew in ever stronger gusts.
"We're in for a squall," said James, worried. The boat rolled. It was heavily loaded, and water splashed in.
"Steer into the waves," called Simon. James and John tried to pull the boat around, but the wind had caught them. The boat swung broadside and lurched dangerously in the trough of the waves. Water poured in. Simon stepped swiftly to the center and sat down beside James. Together they pulled the heavy oar; after a tense moment the boat swung slowly around.
"We've got to bail this water out," said Simon. More came over the side with each roll.
"If we don't get this water out, we'll never get to shore," shouted Simon.
"What can we do?" cried the Zealot. Waves continued to leap over the side into the boat. Desperately the men tried to bail out the water. "We'll never make it!" they cried, seized by panic.
Andrew clutched John's shoulder. "Look! What's that?" He pointed out into the blackness.