"but we Romans lie not; we leave that to the Jews, who surpass in that all other nations."
Unmindful of the taunt, Caiaphas stood silent. Could this that he had just heard be true, or was Pilate mocking him? Or was it some pretended miracle? Dismay and fear showed on his countenance, for his sense of justice told him that, if God meant vengeance, it would fall heavily on him.
" 'T is some witchery in which thou hast helped," he burst out at last, no longer able to control the torrent of hate and wrath he felt against the Nazarene, Pilate, the whole world. "It is some witchery of thine own soldiers. Therefore didst thou allow Joseph of Arimathæa to take away the body. Thou art a traitor to thy Emperor. Thou hast ever tried to mock me since thou wert Procurator here, and I will write to Cæsar."
"See that thou write in Latin, and not in Hebrew," said Pilate, laughing at the priest's petulance; "and send it not by a Roman soldier. . . Ha! Ha! thou art indeed afraid, poor Caiaphas, of this carpenter's Son." Then, changing his tone, he added: "Thou wouldst not fear Him so, great Caiaphas, were it not that thou knowest He is the stronger. He is stronger than art thou, be He God or not. His heart is pure and noble, and true and wide, wide as the ocean; and thou, thou art a base, plotting, deceiving little hound of a Jew, with a mind as narrow as that." And with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand he portioned off the tiniest tip of the little finger of his left hand. " And thy soul, if thou hast indeed a soul, is foul, like water into which
