"Nay, I know not. There were thirteen of them, for I counted; verily, I believe that the multitude thought them the twelve apostles headed by the Nazarene himself." And the speaker threw back his head and laughed again.
"Nay, there were fourteen," said the other, with an obstinate shake of the head. "I also counted, and I never make a mistake. They were wild men out of the desert, I opine," he added sagely. "I have seen the like many times when crossing to Egypt, for I have traveled in my day." Then he looked anxiously about him. "There is no one dead here save the man yonder," he said, "and he was smitten at the first. We had best make haste and return to the city; this affair is nothing to us."
"Hold, dost thou not see a body yonder in the shadow of the bush? By the rod of Moses, I think I saw him move; let us look to it."
"We had best leave the whole matter alone, I tell thee," insisted his companion with irritation. "Thanks be to Jehovah, I have had nothing to do with it so far--save to look on; and I tell thee that I will not lay a finger to yonder body, be it dead or alive. Come, I am going to the city." And without stopping for further parley, the speaker began to run toward the city gate, apparently not hearing the loud cries to stop which his companion sent after him.
"Coward!" muttered the one who was left; then he walked over to the body, which lay face downward in the shadow of the bushes, and deliberately turned it over, starting back with a cry of surprise as the identity of the unconscious man became apparent.
"'Tis Saul of Tarsus! So the wolf is himself bitten for once; but not unto death, I am thinking." He sprinkled the face of the wounded man with water, and forced a little wine between his clenched teeth. "Only a bruise," he continued reflectively, as he examined the body with care. "I suspect that the Nazarenes would thank me should I thrust him through as he lies. He is a hard man--a hard man. Yet that is nothing to me. Ha! he is reviving already. Another sip of the wine, friend; thou hadst a sharp blow, and it hath confused thy senses somewhat; but thou wilt shortly----"
"Did the blasphemers escape me?" said Saul in a hollow voice, sitting up and looking about him. Then his eye fell upon the four empty posts which had been set up for the scourging, and he groaned aloud.
"Be thankful rather that thou hast thyself escaped with so slight an injury," said the man who still stood at his side, flask in hand. "Another sup of----"
"Hold thy peace, fellow," said Saul savagely, springing to his feet. "The cowardly knaves!--to flee from their duty before a dozen peasants,--where are they? Which way did they go?" And he fixed his angry eyes on his rescuer, who was calmly girding himself.
"Thou hast bidden me hold my peace, Pharisee; and I am not the man to be bidden twice. Farewell, and a good recovery to thee." And the man turned resolutely away.