“It would certainly be very easy,” said the Commander, “if the King only knew which one of all the children here in Bethlehem is The One.”
The soldier knit his brows. “It is a pity his soothsayers can not enlighten him about this,” said he.
“But now Herod has hit upon a ruse, whereby he believes he can make the young Peace-Prince harmless,” continued the Commander. “He promises a handsome gift to each and all who will help him.”
“Whatsoever Voltigius commands shall be carried out, even without money or gifts,” said the soldier.
“I thank you,” replied the Commander. “Listen, now, to the King’s plan! He intends to celebrate the birthday of his youngest son by arranging a festival, to which all male children in Bethlehem, who are between the ages of two and three years, shall be bidden, together with their mothers. And during this festival——” He checked himself suddenly, and laughed when he saw the look of disgust on the soldier’s face.
“My friend,” he continued, “you need not fear that Herod thinks of using us as child-nurses. Now bend your ear to my mouth, and I’ll confide to you his design.”
The Commander whispered long with the soldier, and when he had disclosed all, he said:
“I need hardly tell you that absolute silence is imperative, lest the whole undertaking miscarry.”
“You know, Voltigius, that you can rely on me,” said the soldier.
When the Commander had gone and the soldier once more stood alone at his post, he looked around for the child. The little one played all the while among the flowers, and the soldier caught himself thinking that the boy swayed above them as light and attractive as a butterfly.