"Do not stand," gasped Anna. "Thou art not strong. I thought that thou wast asleep."
"Time hasteneth with rapid foot when a lady entertains so comely a young man," said the High Priest with a terrible gentleness. "Once more I ask of thee, who is thy guest?"
Stephen had risen to his feet and was looking with troubled eyes into the face of her whom he had learned to love almost as a mother. He waited for her to speak. Her lips moved, but no sound came from them. He turned and fixed his eyes upon the man. "I know not who thou art," he said in a clear voice, "nor why thou dost question this beloved lady so harshly, but I can answer for myself. My name is Stephen."
The High Priest took a step forward; he did not speak, but death looked out from his eyes.
"Go! Go!" whispered Anna, turning her white face upon the young man. "Thou dost not understand, but go!--I beseech thee."
"Nay, I will not go till I am assured of thy safety. Who, and what manner of man is this?"
The smouldering fire in the eyes of Caiaphas leapt up into a lurid blaze. "Dost thou, the murderer of my son, defy me in mine own house?" he cried in a choked voice. "Because thou art in mine house, I will not kill thee, but--" and his voice died away into a silence more terrible than speech.
"Go!" repeated Anna imploringly.
But Stephen did not appear to have heard. "What dost thou mean?" he said, his voice full of horror. "Thou hast called me a murderer!"
The High Priest looked at him contemptuously. "Son of a malefactor, dost thou not know that upon thy head rests the blood-guilt of thy father?"