Son of God's coat! A hundred gold pieces for the coat!" shrieked
old Schobal, lifting the garment up on a stick like a flag. The dealer
swore by that flag, for its value had risen a thousandfold in an hour.
"A hundred gold pieces for the Son of God's coat!" But it was high
time that the dealer made himself scarce, for the people of Jerusalem
were enraged at a man who wanted to do business in presence of the
dying Saviour. The good, pious citizens of Jerusalem!

Not a High Priest was to be seen. They had all gone away. The
hoarse-voiced Rabbi was still there, reciting Psalms aloud to the dying
man.

"Stop that!" someone shouted at him. "You killed Him."

"We've killed Him? Who do you mean?" asked the Rabbi with well-feigned
innocence.

"Why you, you expounders of the Scriptures, you brought Him to His
death; it was you, and you alone!"

The Rabbi replied very seriously: "Think, my friend, what you are
saying. Can you prove this charge before the dread Jehovah? We
expounders of the Law brought Him to His death! Every one knows who
condemned Him. It was the foreigners. They have ever been the ruin of
our nation! Every one knows who crucified Him at the desire of the
people."

It was high time that he should defend himself. The voices grew ever
louder: It was the High Priests who had goaded on the people and
judges! They are guilty----

"Silence! He still lives!"

All looks were centred on the cross.

Jesus turned His head to the crowd and muttered in His weakness: "I am
thirsty! I am thirsty!"

The captain ordered a sponge to be dipped in vinegar, and reached up to
Him on a stick so that the dying man might sip the moisture.

A young woman with her hair flowing loose lay among the rocks. She
kneeled, and, supporting her elbows on the ground, wailed softly: "O
Saviour, Saviour! My sins!"

He looked once again at His dear ones. Then He lifted His head quickly
and uttered a cry to Heaven: "Father, receive My soul! My Father! Do
not forsake Me!" He looked upwards, gazed at the heavens with
wide-opened eyes, then His head dropped and fell on His breast.

John sank to the ground, covering his face with his hands. All was
over!

* * * * * *

The crowd was almost motionless. They stood and stared, and their
faces were white. The town walls were dun-coloured, the shrubs were
grey, the young buds were pale and closed.

A lustreless sun stood in the sky