they still decided that Jesus was a
deceiver, and possibly a thief.

"So that's what they think of us, is it?" cried Peter, with a snort.
"Lord, wilt Thou that I return to those fools, and--"

But Jesus, saying not a word, gazed severely at him, and Peter in
silence retired behind the others. And no one ever referred to the
incident again, as though it had never occurred, and as though Judas
had been proved wrong. In vain did he show himself on all sides,
endeavouring to give to his double, crafty, hooknosed face an expression
of modesty. They would not look at him, and if by chance any one did
glance at him, it was in a very unfriendly, not to say contemptuous,
manner.

From that day on Jesus' treatment of him underwent a strange change.
Formerly, for some reason or other, Judas never used to speak
directly with Jesus, who never addressed Himself directly to him, but
nevertheless would often glance at him with kindly eyes, smile at his
rallies, and if He had not seen him for some time, would inquire: "Where
is Judas?"

But now He looked at him as if He did not see him, although as before,
and indeed more determinedly than formerly, He sought him out with
His eyes every time that He began to speak to the disciples or to the
people; but He was either sitting with His back to him, so that He was
obliged, as it were, to cast His words over His head so as to reach
Judas, or else He made as though He did not notice him at all. And
whatever He said, though it was one thing one day, and then next day
quite another, although it might be the very thing that Judas was
thinking, it always seemed as though He were speaking against him. To
all He was the tender, beautiful flower, the sweet-smelling rose of
Lebanon, but for Judas He left only sharp thorns, as though Judas had
neither heart, nor sight, nor smell, and did not understand, even better
than any, the beauty of tender, immaculate petals.

"Thomas! Do you like the yellow rose of Lebanon, which has a swarthy
countenance and eyes like the roe?" he inquired once of his friend, who
replied indifferently--

"Rose? Yes, I like the smell. But I have never heard of a rose with a
swarthy countenance and eyes like a roe!"

"What? Do you not know that the polydactylous cactus, which tore your
new garment yesterday, has only one beautiful flower, and only one eye?"

But Thomas did not know this, although only yesterday a cactus had
actually caught in his garment and torn it i