On either side of the shelving lawn or interspace were woods, the remains of an ancient forest that had once covered this hillside; paths wound sinuously through the woods, and, taking the one he had followed overnight, he passed under sycamore boughs, through some woodland to the terrace that he had crossed last night with a naked man on his shoulders.  And he remembered how hard it had been to keep to the path overnight, and how fortunate it was that the gardener’s cottage was not locked, for if he had had to lay Jesus down he would never have been able to lift him up again on to his shoulder.  He had done all he could to relieve his suffering.  But Jesus, he said to himself, is lying in agony, and if he has regained consciousness he may believe himself buried alive.  I must hasten.  Yet when he arrived at the cottage he did not enter it at once, but stood outside listening to the moans of the wounded man within, which were good to hear in this much that they were an assurance that he was still alive.  At last he pushed the door open and found Jesus moving his head from side to side, unable to rid himself of a fly that was crawling about his mouth.  Joseph drove it away and gave Jesus some more weak wine and water, which seemed to soothe him, and feeling he could do no more he sat down by the bedside to wait for Esora.  A few minutes after he heard her steps and she came into the cottage with balsam and bandages in a basket, divining before any examination Jesus’ state.  He is in a bad way; you’ve given him wine and water, but he’ll need something stronger, and, taking a bottle from her basket, she lifted Jesus’ head so that he might drink from it.  It will help him to bear the pain of the dressing, she said.  Now, Master, will you roll him over on to his side, so that I may see his back.  The pain, she said, looking up, when we remove this cloth on which you have laid him will almost kill him, but we must get it off.  The water with which I’ll cleanse the wound, you’ll find it in that basket:  it is cool enough now to use.  Take him by the wrists and pull him forward, keeping him in a sitting position.  Which Joseph did, Esora washing his back the while and removing the splinters that Joseph missed overnight.  And, taking pleasure in her ministrations, she steeped a piece of linen in the balm, and over the medicated linen laid a linen pad, rolling a bandage round the chest; and the skill with which she wound it surprised Joseph and persuaded him that the worst was over and there was no cause for further fear, a confidence Esora did not share.  He’ll rest easier, she said, and will suffer no pain at the next dressing; for the oil will prevent the balm from sticking.  We can roll him on his back now, and without asking any question she dressed his hands and feet.