Thomas was in some way strangely perturbed, and made no reply.  But at night, when Judas was already closing his vivid, restless eye for sleep, he suddenly said aloud from where he lay—­the two now slept together on the roof—­

“You are wrong, Judas.  I have very bad dreams.  What think you?  Are people responsible for their dreams?”

“Does, then, any one but the dreamer see a dream?” Judas replied.

Thomas sighed gently, and became thoughtful.  But Judas smiled contemptuously, and firmly closed his roguish eye, and quickly gave himself up to his mutinous dreams, monstrous ravings, mad phantoms, which rent his bumpy skull to pieces.

When, during Jesus’ travels about Judaea, the disciples approached a village, Iscariot would speak evil of the inhabitants and foretell misfortune.  But almost always it happened that the people, of whom he had spoken evil, met Christ and His friends with gladness, and surrounded them with attentions and love, and became believers, and Judas’ money-box became so full that it was difficult to carry.  And when they laughed at his mistake, he would make a humble gesture with his hands, and say: 

“Well, well!  Judas thought that they were bad, and they turned out to be good.  They quickly believed, and gave money.  That only means that Judas has been deceived once more, the poor, confiding Judas Iscariot!”

But on one occasion, when they had already gone far from a village, which had welcomed them kindly, Thomas and Judas began a hot dispute, to settle which they turned back, and did not overtake Jesus and His disciples until the next day.  Thomas wore a perturbed and sorrowful appearance, while Judas had such a proud look, that you would have thought that he expected them to offer him their congratulations and thanks upon the spot.  Approaching the Master, Thomas declared with decision:  “Judas was right, Lord.  They were ill-disposed, stupid people.  And the seeds of your words has fallen upon the rock.”  And he related what had happened in the village.

After Jesus and His disciples left it, an old woman had begun to cry out that her little white kid had been stolen, and she laid the theft at the door of the visitors who had just departed.  At first the people had disputed with her, but when she obstinately insisted that there was no one else who could have done it except Jesus, many agreed with her, and even were about to start in pursuit.  And although they soon found the kid straying in the underwood, they still decided that Jesus was a deceiver, and possibly a thief.

“So that’s what they think of us, is it?” cried Peter, with a snort.  “Lord, wilt Thou that I return to those fools, and—­”

But Jesus, saying not a word, gazed severely at him, and Peter in silence retired behind the others.  And no one ever referred to the incident again, as though it had never occurred, and as though Judas had been proved wrong.  In vain did he show himself on all sides, endeavouring to give to his double, crafty, hooknosed face an expression of modesty.  They would not look at him, and if by chance any one did glance at him, it was in a very unfriendly, not to say contemptuous, manner.