“Barabbas!” he exclaimed, taking hold of the murderer, “don’t you remember what we determined?  We only kill those who fight; we do not kill defenceless persons.”

Barabbas removed his thin arms from his victim and in a tearful voice grumbled:  “Dismas, you are dreadful.  I’m old now, and am I to have no more pleasure?”

Dismas said meaningly:  “If the old man does not keep his agreement, the troop will have its pleasure, and, for a change, swing him who likes to be called king of the desert.”

That had the desired effect.  Barabbas knew the band cared much more for Dismas than for himself, and he did not wish matters to come to a climax.

When day dawned a mule was led to Simeon.  One of his slaves, with his wounded arm in a sling, was allowed him, and he carried some bread and his cloak, and led the beast.  And so the citizen of Jerusalem returned to the town he had left a week before under such brilliant circumstances, a defeated and plundered man.

The affair attracted great attention in the city.  Armed incursions were eagerly made into the desert between Jerusalem and the Jordan, where one evil deed after another was reported.  Even the Rabbis and Pharisees preached a campaign to clear the rocks and sandy flats of the dangerous and destructive hordes by which they were infested.  The famous band of the chiefs, Barabbas and Dismas—­so it was said—­were not the worst.  Much more ominous were the vagrant crowds that gathered about the so-called Messiah from Nazareth, who, feeling himself safe in the desert, indulged in disorderly speeches and acts.  So it was settled to send out a large company of soldiers, led by the violent Pharisee, Saul, a weaver who had left his calling out of zeal for the law, in order to free the land from the mob of robbers and heretics.

Now about this time Dismas, the old robber-chief, fell into deep contrition.  His heart had never really been in his criminal calling.  Murder was particularly hateful to him, and, so far as he was free to do so, he had always sought to avoid it.  Now even plundering and robbing became hateful to him.  In the night he had visions of the terrible Jehovah.  He thought of John, the desert preacher, and considered it high time to repent.  So one day he said to Barabbas: 

“Do you know, comrade, there is just now a prince at the oasis of Silam who has with him immensely more wealth than that citizen of Jerusalem?  I know his position and his people, and I know how to get at him.  Shall we take this lord?”

“If you continue to be so useless, Dismas, you’ll be flung to the vultures.”  Such were the terms in which Barabbas thanked his ally.  It was decided that the attack should be made.  Dismas led the band towards the oasis of Silam.  Barabbas went with his steed decorated with gay-coloured feathers, an iron coronet on his head.  For it was a prince whom he was to visit!  Dismas encamped his men under a rocky precipice.  And when at night time all rested in order to be fit for the attack on the princely train early in the morning, Dismas climbed the rocks and gave the signal.  The Roman soldiery hidden behind the rocks cut down all who opposed them, and took the rest prisoners, Dismas and Barabbas among them.  When the latter saw that he had been betrayed, he began to rage in his chains like a wild animal.