“Look here, Thomas, the terrible hour is drawing near.  Are you prepared for it?  Why did you not take the sword I brought you?”

Thomas would reply with deliberation: 

“We are men unaccustomed to the use of arms.  If we were to take issue with the Roman soldiery, they would kill us all, one after the other.  Besides, you brought only two swords, and what could we do with only two?”

“We could get more.  We could take them from the Roman soldiers,” Judas impatiently objected, and even the serious Thomas smiled through his overhanging moustache.

“Ah!  Judas!  Judas!  But where did you get these?  They are like Roman swords.”

“I stole them.  I could have stolen more, only some one gave the alarm, and I fled.”

Thomas considered a little, then said sorrowfully—­

“Again you acted ill, Judas.  Why do you steal?”

“There is no such thing as property.”

“No, but to-morrow they will ask the soldiers:  ’Where are your swords?’ And when they cannot find them they will be punished though innocent.”

The consequence was, that after the death of Jesus the disciples recalled these conversations of Judas, and determined that he had wished to destroy them, together with the Master, by inveigling them into an unequal and murderous conflict.  And once again they cursed the hated name of Judas Iscariot the Traitor.

But the angry Judas, after each conversation, would go to the women and weep.  They heard him gladly.  The tender womanly element, that there was in his love for Jesus, drew him near to them, and made him simple, comprehensible, and even handsome in their eyes, although, as before, a certain amount of disdain was perceptible in his attitude towards them.

“Are they men?” he would bitterly complain of the disciples, fixing his blind, motionless eye confidingly on Mary Magdalene.  “They are not men.  They have not an oboles’ worth of blood in their veins!”

“But then you are always speaking ill of others,” Mary objected.

“Have I ever?” said Judas in surprise.  “Oh, yes, I have indeed spoken ill of them; but is there not room for improvement in them?  Ah!  Mary, silly Mary, why are you not a man, to carry a sword?”

“It is so heavy, I could not lift it!” said Mary smilingly.

“But you will lift it, when men are too worthless.  Did you give Jesus the lily that I found on the mountain?  I got up early to find it, and this morning the sun was so beautiful, Mary!  Was He pleased with it?  Did He smile?”

“Yes, He was pleased.  He said that its smell reminded Him of Galilee.”

“But surely, you did not tell Him that it was Judas—­Judas Iscariot—­ who got it for Him?”

“Why, you asked me not to tell Him.”

“Yes, certainly, quite right,” said Judas, with a sigh.  “You might have let it out, though, women are such chatterers.  But you did not let it out; no, you were firm.  You are a good woman, Mary.  You know that I have a wife somewhere.  Now I should be glad to see her again; perhaps she is not a bad woman either.  I don’t know.  She said, ‘Judas was a liar and malignant,’ so I left her.  But she may be a good woman.  Do you know?”