p was over ground sacred in some sense, but now desecrated by
traditionary falsehoods. Every action of our Saviour's passion has
its spot assigned to it; of every noted word the _locale_ is given.
When once you are again within the walls, all is again unbelievable,
fabulous, miraculous; nay, all but blasphemous. Some will say quite
so. But, nevertheless, in passing by this way, should you, O reader!
ever make such passage, forget not to mount to the top of Pilate's
house. It is now a Turkish barrack; whether it ever were Pilate's
house, or, rather, whether it stands on what was ever the site of
Pilate's house or no. From hence you see down into the court of the
mosque, see whatever a Christian can see of that temple's site, and
see also across them gloriously to those hills of Jerusalem, Scopus,
and the hill of the men of Galilee, and the Mount of Olives, and
the Mount of Offence--so called because there "did Solomon build an
high place for Chemosh, the abomination of Moab, on the hill that is
before Jerusalem."

On his return to his inn, Bertram at once found that there had been
an arrival of some importance during his absence. Waiters and boots
were all busy--for there are waiters and boots at Jerusalem, much
the same as at the "Saracen's Head," or "White Lion;" there is no
chambermaid, however, only a chamberman. Colonel Sir Lionel Bertram
was there.

CHAPTER VIII.

SIR LIONEL BERTRAM.

The personal peculiarities which Sir Lionel had mentioned in his
letter to his son as being characteristic of himself were certainly
true. He was an old, or, perhaps, rather an elderly gentleman, in a
military frock, with a bald head, a hook nose, and a short allowance
of teeth. But he was more than this: though elderly he was tall and
upright; he was distinguished looking, and, for an old man, handsome
in spite of his lost teeth; and though bald as to the top of his
head, had yet enough hair to merit considerable attention, and to be
the cause of considerable pride. His whiskers, also, and mustache,
though iron-gray, were excellent in their way. Had his baldness been
of an uglier description, or his want of teeth more disagreeably
visible, he probably might not have alluded to them himself. In
truth, Sir Lionel was not a little vain of his personal appearance,
and thought that in the matter of nose, he was quite equal to the
Duke in aristocratic firmness, and superior to Sir Charles Napier in
expression and general desi