"They come," said Caiaphas; but in his eyes was no look of expectant triumph, and all his features seemed contracted with some inexplicable dread. What if after all He were the Son of God? What if He should strike him dead by some unseen subtle force? Oh, if that daughter of his in the corner would but break the silence, instead of sitting gazing in vacancy at the moon!
So versed was he in hunting for the dark spots of vice in human nature, that the few shining ones of virtue escaped his view; thus he found himself suspecting for an instant that even his own daughter might be plotting to defeat him.
"Jesus of Nazareth."
Wide open were flung the doors, and, between two soldiers, the Nazarene was ushered in. One more drop of anguish to be drunk, one step nearer to the cross! The High Priest was face to face, at last, with the Man he hated, and, at the same time, dreaded. It was a grim satisfaction to see Him bound. Rebekah, cold-eyed, but curious, looked on without a word.
Now the chamber was filling; elders, scribes, Sadducees, a few, very few, Pharisees, all the members of the council, filed in one after another to see the triumph of their High Priest and the degradation of the Christ. Strange men who had been hired to bear false witness, sycophants, liars, usurers, lawyers, a strange medley, jostled each other in the room. Faint and weary, but unflinching still, the Nazarene stood with head erect. But when Caiaphas with loud voice called out, "Ye who do accuse this Man, come forward," none answered to the call,
