nd
him to the cross, for they held it unlawful to shed his blood.

It was soon done. The two men took up the cross and set it, with the
body hanging thereon, against the wall of the narrow court, over against
the house of Lazarus.

"Thou mayest still repent--during this night," said the father, holding
up the horn lantern and looking into his son's tortured face.

"Ay--there is yet time," said Levi, brutally. "He will not die so soon."

"Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit," said the weak voice once
more.

Then Lazarus raised his hand and struck him once more on the mouth, as
he had done on that first night when he had seized him near the church.
But Levi, the Short-handed, as though in wrath at seeing all his
torments fail, dealt him one heavy blow just where the ear joins the
neck, and it was over at last. A radiant smile of peace flickered over
the pale face, the eyelids quivered and closed, the head fell forward
upon the breast and the martyrdom of Simon Abeles was consummated.

Into the dark court came the rabbis one by one from the inner chamber,
and each as he came took up the horn lantern and held it to the dead
face and smiled and spoke a few low words in the Hebrew tongue and then
went out into the street, until only Lazarus and Levi were left alone
with the dead body. Then they debated what they should do, and for a
time they went into the house and refreshed themselves with food and
wine, and comforted each other, well knowing that they had done an evil
deed. And they came back when it was late and wrapped the body in the
coarse cloth and carried it out stealthily and buried it in the Jewish
cemetery, and departed again to their own houses.

"And there he lay," said Unorna, "the boy of your race who was faithful
to death. Have you suffered? Have you for one short hour known the
meaning of such great words as you dared to speak to me? Do you know now
what it means to be a martyr, to suffer for standing on the very spot
where he lay, you have felt in some small degree a part of what he must
have felt. You live. Be warned. If again you anger me, your life shall
not be spared you."

The visions had all vanished. Again the wilderness of gravestones and
lean, crooked trees appeared, wild and desolate as before. The Wanderer
roused himself and saw Unorna standing before Israel Kafka's prostrate
body. As though suddenly released from a spell he sprang forward and
knelt down, trying to revive the uncons