'No!' added Doctor Baruch, 'we cannot commit this abominable impiety.'
'Only hear them!' said to the crowd one of the emissaries, with an accent of admiration.
'Do you hear the holy men? What respect they profess for the commandment of our holy religion! Ah! these are not like that impious Nazarene, who rails and blasphemes at the most sacred things, when he dares to declare that we need not observe the Sabbath!'
'Oh! the infamous hypocrites!' said Genevieve to herself: 'how well Jesus knew them; how much reason he had to unmask them. They now hesitate to enter the house of a heathen, for fear of soiling their sandals; but they do not fear to soil their soul by demanding from this heathen to shed the blood of the righteous, one of their compatriots. Ah! poor youth of Nazareth! they will make you pay with your life for the courage you have shown in attacking these rich swindlers.'
The officer of the militia having entered the palace of Pontius Pilate, whilst the escort remained outside guarding the prisoner, Genevieve mounted behind a cart stopped by the crowd, and endeavored to keep in sight the young man of Nazareth. She saw him standing in the midst of the soldiers, his long chestnut hair falling over his shoulders, his looks still calm and gentle, and a smile of resignation on his lips. He contemplated the tumultuous and threatening crowd with a sort of painful commiseration, as if he had pitied these men for their blindness and iniquity.
Insults were offered him on all sides. The soldiers themselves treated him with so much brutality that the blue mantle he wore over his white tunic was already almost torn from his back. Jesus, to so many outrages and ill treatment, opposed an unalterable placidity, and on his pale and handsome features Genevieve did not see the least impatience or the least anger betray itself. Suddenly these words were heard circulating through the crowd:
'Ah! here he comes, the Seigneur Pontius Pilate!'
'He will at length pronounce sentence of death against this cursed Nazarene.'
'Luckily ‘tis not far from hence to Golgotha, where they execute criminals; we can go and see him crucified!'
In fact, Genevieve soon saw the Governor, Pontius Pilate, appear at the door of his house; no doubt he had been just aroused from sleep, for he was enveloped in a long morning robe; his hair and beard were in disorder; his eyes, red and swollen, appeared dazzled at the rays of the rising sun; he could scarcely conceal several yawns, and seemed greatly annoyed at having been awakened so early, having, perhaps, as usual prolonged his supper until daybreak. So, addressing Doctor Baruch in a tone of harshness and ill-humor, like a person anxious to abridge an interview that was unpleasant, said to him: