Angry and slightly frightened, Thomas freed himself with difficulty from the clinging embrace of Judas, and began to stride forward quickly.  But he soon slackened his pace as he endeavoured to understand what had taken place.

But Judas crept on gently behind, and gradually came to a standstill.  And lo! in the distance the pedestrians became blended into a parti-coloured mass, so that it was impossible any longer to distinguish which among those little figures was Jesus.  And lo! the little Thomas, too, changed into a grey spot, and suddenly—­all disappeared round a turn in the road.

Looking round, Judas went down from the road and with immense leaps descended into the depths of a rocky ravine.  His clothes blew out with the speed and abruptness of his course, and his hands were extended upwards as though he would fly.  Lo! now he crept along an abrupt declivity, and suddenly rolled down in a grey ball, rubbing off his skin against the stones; then he jumped up and angrily threatened the mountain with his fist—­

“You too, damn you!”

Suddenly he changed his quick movements into a comfortable, concentrated dawdling, chose a place by a big stone, and sat down without hurry.  He turned himself, as if seeking a comfortable position, laid his hands side by side on the grey stone, and heavily sank his head upon them.  And so for an hour or two he sat on, as motionless and grey as the grey stone itself, so still that he deceived even the birds.  The walls of the ravine rose before him, and behind, and on every side, cutting a sharp line all round on the blue sky; while everywhere immense grey stones obtruded from the ground, as though there had been at some time or other, a shower here, and as though its heavy drops had become petrified in endless split, upturned skull, and every stone in it was like a petrified thought; and there were many of them, and they all kept thinking heavily, boundlessly, stubbornly.

A scorpion, deceived by his quietness, hobbled past, on its tottering legs, close to Judas.  He threw a glance at it, and, without lifting his head from the stone, again let both his eyes rest fixedly on something—­both motionless, both veiled in a strange whitish turbidness, both as though blind and yet terribly alert.  And lo! from out of the ground, the stones, and the clefts, the quiet darkness of night began to rise, enveloped the motionless Judas, and crept swiftly up towards the pallid light of the sky.  Night was coming on with its thoughts and dreams.

That night Judas did not return to the halting-place.  And the disciples, forgetting their thoughts, busied themselves with preparations for their meal, and grumbled at his negligence.

CHAPTER III