Lazarus also smiled as though in assent, and bowed his head a little before he spoke.
“I am obedient to your judgment. It is yours to command and mine to obey. If you say that he must die, let him die. He is my son. Take him. Did not our father Abraham lay Isaac upon the altar and offer him as a burnt sacrifice before the Lord?”
“Let him die,” said the rabbis.
“Then let him die,” answered Lazarus. “I am your servant. It is mine to obey.”
“His blood be on our heads,” they said. And again, the evil smile went round.
“It is then expedient that we determine of what manner his death shall be,” continued the father, inclining his body to signify his submission.
“It is not lawful to shed his blood,” said the rabbis. “And we cannot stone him, lest we be brought to judgment of the Christians. Determine thou the manner of his death.”
“My masters, if you will it, let him be brought once more before us. Let us all hear with our ears his denial, and if he repent at the last, it is well, let him live. But if he harden his heart against our entreaties, let him die. Levi hath brought certain pieces of wood hither to my house, and is even now at work. If the youth is still stubborn in his unbelief, let him die even as the Unbeliever died—by the righteous judgment of the Romans.”
“Let it be so. Let him be crucified!” said the rabbis with one voice.
Then Lazarus rose and went out, and, in the vision, the rabbis remained seated, motionless in their places awaiting his return. The noise of Levi’s hammer echoed through the low vaulted chamber, and at each blow the smoking lamp quivered a little, casting strange shadows upon the evil faces beneath its light. At last footsteps, slow and uncertain, were heard without, the low door opened, and Lazarus entered, holding up the body of his son before him.