't make my head more confused than it is already with your
talking," he commanded. The noise in the street became more
threatening every moment.

Jesus was exhausted, and, surrounded by guards, sat down on a stone in
the courtyard of Pilate's house. The crowd came up, mocked Him and
insulted Him. They draped Him in the torn red cloak of a Bedouin for
royal purple, they plucked thorns from a hedge in the neighbouring
garden, wove them into a crown, and set it on His head. They broke off
a dry reed and put it into His hand as a sceptre. They anointed His
cheek with spittle. And then they bowed down to the ground before Him,
and sang in a shrill voice: "Hail to Thee, O anointed Messiah-King!"
and put out their tongues at Him.

Jesus sat there, calm and unmoved. He looked at His tormentors with
sad eyes, not in anger, but in pity.

His disciples, terrified to death, had now come up, but remained
outside the walls. Peter was furious over the infamous betrayal that
had taken place, and could not understand what had possessed Judas. In
sore distress he stood in the farthest courtyard where it was dark.
Then a girl tripped up to him on her way to the well for water.

"Here's another!" she shouted. "Why are you standing here? Go and do
homage to your King."

Peter turned in the direction of the gate.

"You're one of those Galileans, too," she continued.

"What have I to do with Galilee?" he said.

A gatekeeper interposed: "Of course he is a Galilean. You can see that
by his dress. He belongs to the Nazarene."

"I do not know Him," said Peter, and tried to hurry off. The
gatekeeper stopped him with the shaft of his spear. "Halt there, you
Jew! Your King is seated yonder on His throne. Do homage to Him
before He flies into the clouds."

"Let me alone; I do not know the man," exclaimed Peter, and hastened
away. As he went out of the gate, a cock crowed just over his head.
Peter started. Did He not speak of a cock at supper? "And another
will deny me this night just before cock-crow." In a flash the old
disciple saw what he had done. From terror that he, too, would be
seized, he had lied about his Master, about Him who had been everything
to him--everything--everything. Now in His need they had left Him
alone, had not even had the courage to acknowledge themselves His
supporters. "Oh, Simon!" he said to himself, "you should have stayed
by your lake instead of playing at being the chosen of God. H