‘And tell me ... were they given the drink before being hung on the posts?’6
‘Yes. But he,’ here the guest closed his eyes, ‘refused to drink it.’
‘Who, precisely?’ asked Pilate.
‘Forgive me, Hegemon!’ the guest exclaimed. ‘Did I not name him? Ha-Nozri!’
‘Madman!’ said Pilate, grimacing for some reason. A little nerve began to twitch under his left eye. ‘To die of sunburn! Why refuse what is offered by law! In what terms did he refuse it?’
‘He said,’ the guest answered, again closing his eyes, ‘that he was grateful and laid no blame for the taking of his life.’
‘On whom?’ Pilate asked in a hollow voice.
That he did not say, Hegemon ...‘
‘Did he try to preach anything in the soldiers’ presence?’
‘No, Hegemon, he was not loquacious this time. The only thing he said was that among human vices he considered cowardice one of the first.’7
This was said with regard to what?‘ the guest heard a suddenly cracked voice.
That was impossible to understand. He generally behaved himself strangely — as always, however.‘
‘What was this strangeness?’
‘He kept trying to peer into the eyes of one or another of those around him, and kept smiling some sort of lost smile.’
‘Nothing else?’ asked the hoarse voice.
‘Nothing else.’
The procurator knocked against the cup as he poured himself some wine. After draining it to the very bottom, he spoke:
‘The matter consists in the following: though we have been unable — so far at least - to discover any admirers or followers of his, it is none the less impossible to guarantee that there are none.’
The guest listened attentively, inclining his head.
‘And so, to avoid surprises of any sort,’ the procurator continued, ‘I ask you to remove the bodies of all three executed men from the face of the earth, immediately and without any noise, and to bury them in secrecy and silence, so that not another word or whisper is heard of them.’
‘Understood, Hegemon,’ replied the guest, and he got up, saying: ‘In view of the complexity and responsibility of the matter, allow me to go immediately.’
‘No, sit down again,’ said Pilate, stopping his guest with a gesture, ‘there are two more questions. First, your enormous merits in this most difficult job at the post of head of the secret service for the procurator of Judea give me the pleasant opportunity of reporting them to Rome.’
Here the guest’s face turned pink, he rose and bowed to the procurator, saying:
‘I merely fulfil my duty in the imperial service.’
‘But I wanted to ask you,’ the hegemon continued, ‘in case you’re offered a transfer elsewhere with a raise — to decline it and remain here. I wouldn’t want to part with you for anything. Let them reward you in some other way.’
‘I am happy to serve under your command, Hegemon.’
‘That pleases me very much. And so, the second question. It concerns this ... what’s his name ... Judas of Kiriath.’
Here the guest sent the procurator his glance, and at once, as was his custom, extinguished it.
‘They say,’ the procurator continued, lowering his voice, ‘that he supposedly got some money for receiving this madman so cordially?’
‘Will get,’ the head of the secret service quietly corrected Pilate.
‘And is it a large sum?’
‘That no one can say, Hegemon.’
‘Not even you?’ said the hegemon, expressing praise by his amazement.
‘Alas, not even I,’ the guest calmly replied. ‘But he will get the money this evening, that I do know. He is to be summoned tonight to the palace of Kaifa.’
‘Ah, that greedy old man of Kiriath!’ the procurator observed, smiling. ‘He is an old man, isn’t he?’
‘The procurator is never mistaken, but he is mistaken this time,’ the guest replied courteously, ‘the man from Kiriath is a young man.’
‘You don’t say! Can you describe his character for me? A fanatic?’
‘Oh, no, Procurator.’
‘So. And anything else?’
‘Very handsome.’
‘What else? He has some passion, perhaps?’
