In the first confusion the wretched man thought he heard the Prophet speaking, but he soon noted the difference.  The Prophet and His disciples gave up everything that they possessed.  This man took everything that others possessed.

“I know you, proud citizen of Jerusalem.  I am Barabbas, called the king of the desert.  It is useless to resist.  Three hundred men are at this moment keeping watch round your camp.  We’ve settled matters with your servants and slaves; they are powerless.”

It was clear to the poor rich man what the chief meant.  His slaves were slain, he was menaced by a like fate.  What had that disciple of the Prophet said?  Wealth endangered life, and poverty protected it.  If he had set his followers free, giving them what they needed, and wandered about in simple fashion on his own legs, the robber’s knife would not now be pointed at his breast.  In unrestrained rage he uttered a brutal curse:  “Take whatever you can find, and do not mock me, you infamous beast of the desert!”

“Calmly, calmly, my dear sir,” said the chief, while dusky men rolled up carpets, clothes, arms, jewels, and golden goblets, and threw them into big sacks.  “See, we are helping you to pack up.”

“Take the rubbish away,” shouted Simeon, “and leave me in peace.”

The chief, Barabbas, grinned.  “I fancy, my friend, that you and I know each other too well for me to let you go back to Jerusalem.  You would then have too great a desire to have me with you.  You would send out the Romans to search for me, and bring me to the beautiful city.  The desert is much more to my taste:  life is pleasanter there.  Now, tell me where the bags of coin such as a man like you always carries about with him are hidden.  No?  Then you may go to sleep.”

He who went forth to seek eternal life is now in danger of losing mortal life.  In terror of death, cold sweat on his brow, he began to haggle for his life with the desert king.  He not only offered all that he had with him.  The next caravans were bringing him rare spices and incense; bars of gold, diamonds, and pearls were coming in the Indian ships, and he would send all out to the desert, as well as beautiful women slaves, with jewels to deck their throats.  Only he must be allowed to keep his bare life.

Grinning and wrinkling up his snub nose, Barabbas let it be understood that he was not to be won with women and promises—­he was no longer young enough.  Neither would he have any executioner dispatched in search of him—­he was not old enough.  And he had his weaknesses.  He could not decide which would suit the noble citizen’s slender, white neck best, metal or silk.  He took a silken string from the pocket of his cloak, while two Bedouins roughly held Simeon.

Meanwhile, outside the camp, the second chief was packing the stolen treasure on the camels by torchlight.  Whenever he stumbled over a dead body he muttered a curse, and when his work was finished he sought his comrade.  Women in chains wept loudly, not so much on account of their imprisonment—­they took that almost as a matter of course—­but because their master was being murdered in the tent.  So the second chief snatched a torch from a servant, hastened to the tent, and arrived just in the nick of time.