“Run out to the place of execution and command in my name that the Prophet of Nazareth shall be taken down from the cross!”
The slave hurried away. The guests filed from the dining-hall out on the peristyle, to be under the open sky in case the earthquake should be repeated. No one dared to utter a word, while they awaited the slave’s return.
He came back very shortly. He stopped before the Governor.
“You found him alive?” said he.
“Master, he was dead, and on the very second that he gave up the ghost, the earthquake occurred.”
The words were hardly spoken when two loud knocks sounded against the outer gate. When these knocks were heard, they all staggered back and leaped up, as though it had been a new earthquake.
Immediately afterwards a slave came up.
“It is the noble Faustina and the Emperor’s kinsman Sulpicius. They are come to beg you help them find the Prophet from Nazareth.”
A low murmur passed through the peristyle, and soft footfalls were heard. When the Governor looked around, he noticed that his friends had withdrawn from him, as from one upon whom misfortune has fallen.
IX