"King of Israel! King of Israel!" arose in one grand sound heavy with united voices.
"What meaneth this strange cry?" he asked, alarmed, and he turned his head towards the group of excited Pharisees.
"We can see naught yet," one made answer hurriedly; "only the people, who do cry furiously and throw branches and palms upon the ground."
Like one about to be seized with a fit, or one towards whom a stroke of paralysis is creeping stealthily, Caiaphas sat holding on to his seat, trying to assume indifference; but, all the while, every nerve and muscle was strained to hear whether that cry would come again: "King of Israel ! King of Israel!"
Presently, unable to contain himself, he bawled: "Can ye not speak, ye fools ? How cometh He?"
There was a moment's silence, while some strained their necks to see farther up the road. Then one turned to Caiaphas again: "He cometh, the Nazarene, and He rideth on an ass, yea, a small ass; it seemeth but a colt."
For a moment, blood seemed to surge into the very eyes of Caiaphas. He felt faint and dizzy; for one instant the roof of his house seemed torn away; for one instant, in the back chambers of his darkened brain and soul, there flashed the image of a cross; for one instant, Caiaphas, the proud High Priest, believed, and almost swooned from the believing.
"Thou liest," he said at last, in a voice thick and charged with the hoarseness caused by his emotions.
In surprise, the group looked back. What then had come to Caiaphas?
