was jauntily displaying it as a trophy; an uncanny darkness had
covered the Judaean sky; the soldier Longinus had pierced the
sufferer's side; they had buried the dead Christ in the garden tomb
of the Arimathaean Joseph. Monumental events were these--all new
to Quintus, but destined to be written indelibly in the calendars
of Christendom.

"More than this," continues the centurion, "an amazing rumor is now
abroad in the city that yesterday the dead Christus awoke from his
sleep and has been five times seen by his amazed disciples. When I
beheld him yield up the ghost, I hailed his death as that of a
devout man, but little did I think that he was a God and would
return from the tomb. The report says he has now come back. On
swift wing the rumor has flown through Jerusalem and even into
Pilate's palace."


Down from the heights of Scopus the hurrying feet of Quintus carry
him to Jerusalem. Doubts and wonderings and half-beliefs fill his
mind. What if by any shadow of possibility the prediction of the
strange Teacher has been fulfilled, that he should return from the
dead on the third day? Finding his way to Joseph's garden, Quintus
stands by an empty sepulcher. There is a group of wondering
visitors near, and among them is one whose inviting face leads
Quintus to accost him. Not frightened by the sword and armor of
the Roman knight, but assured by his candid look, the other answers
in the Aramaic which both can speak:

"Johannes is my name. Till three years ago I was a fisherman, up
on the waters of Gennesaret. Since then I have been a disciple of