They were still speaking when a young man with a beardless face and insolent expression came riding by on a tall steed.  When he saw the group of Nazarenes he reined in his horse; it would scarcely stop, stamped with its legs on the ground, and threw its head snorting into the air.

“Isn’t this the man with the Kingdom of Heaven?” asked the rider contemptuously.

James came forward quickly.  “Sir, stop your mocking.  How do you know that you will never need it?”

“I?” said the arrogant cavalier.  “I need a Kingdom of Heaven that is not to be seen, heard, or understood!”

“But felt, sir!”

“Then that is He,” exclaimed the horseman, pointing to Jesus.  “No, Nazarenes, I do not believe in your Heavenly Kingdom.”

To which Jesus replied; “Perhaps you will believe in My empty tomb.”

“We will see,” said the cavalier, putting spurs to his horse so that it reared, and galloped off.  Soon all that the disciples saw was a cloud of dust.  Matthew looked searchingly at his comrades.  “Did you recognise him?  Wasn’t it Saul, the dread weaver?  They were saying in the town yesterday that he was coming with a legion of soldiers to arrest the Nazarenes.”

Then they urged in terror; “Master, let us flee.”

He was not accustomed to flee before zealous Pharisees, but there was another reason for removing his innocent disciples from the atmosphere of these big cities.  Simon was always suggesting that it would be no bad thing to spend the coming Passover on the Tiber, for he felt less afraid of the heathens in Rome than of the Jews in Jerusalem.  He had no idea of what was before them.

“Not in Rome,” said Jesus, “but rather in Jerusalem will we eat the Paschal lamb.”

Soon after they wandered forth and left the noisy seaport behind them.  As the roads became more and more unsafe, they climbed the rocks and took the way across the mountains.

The gods came down from high Olympus, the Law came down from Sinai, Light came down from Lebanon.  For it was at Lebanon that the great revelation came, which my shrinking soul is now to witness.

CHAPTER XXIV

The following incident took place during the journey among the mountains of Lebanon.  One day they were resting under an old weather-beaten cedar.  The rain trickled through the bristling bush of needles from one branch to another on to the hats under the broad brims of which the men cowered, their legs drawn up under them, their arms crossed over their chests.  Tired and somewhat out of humour, they looked out into the damp mist against which the near summits and masses of rock stood out.  The hair and beards of the older men had turned grey, and even the faces of the younger seemed to have aged.  For their hardships had been great.  But the glow in their eyes was not quenched.  They had laid aside their