"Is Mattathias still a priest to kill as if we were sheep for sacrifice? Unhand me, lest I smite thee in spite of thy years," said Laban. "Aye, a priest still," cried the old man, suddenly transported with rage, "priest still to sacrifice. It is better that the dust of the ground of our Holy Land receive the blood of Laban than that the altar of the heathen receive his offering." He drew from his robe a priest's knife and drove it into the heart of the traitor. As the body fell the venerable man broke out into lamentation, "Oh, my brother Laban, why didst thou drive me so mad? O my God, forgive me, save me! Save Thy people!" The King's officer sounded an alarm, and soldiers hastened from the adjacent knoll. But these were soon overpowered by the infuriated mob of Jews; and from the mêlée was dragged forth the dead body of the Greek Commandant himself. Mattathias stood a moment and gazed upon the bruised and bleeding form of the officer. Then he raised his hands and, with face uplifted to the white clouds that floated above, he cried: "O God of Israel, forgive Thy priest! Forgive Thy people if they have this day been led into sin. But Thou, Lord, knowest our hearts. The zeal of Thine house hath eaten us up!" Then he turned to the people. All fury suddenly died from his features. Instead there came a look of wonderful compassion and solicitude. It was as the clear azure following the thunder-storm. "To your homes, friends! To your closets! Let no one eat this day, but with fasting let us spread our woes before the Lord. I know, I know that He will appear for us. For we are His people and the sheep of His pasture. But alas! who shall be the Avenger?" XII THE FORT OF THE ROCKS At the bidding of Mattathias, the people passed hurriedly into the town. The stones of the street were torn up; some of them piled in heavy masses against the city gates; others carried to the walls, ready to be hurled down upon assailants. In vain did those returning from the knoll, where they had taken part in the heathen worship, seek admission. Their rapping and calls to their fellow-townsmen were answered by taunts. Mattathias insisted on their exclusion, lest there should be division in counsel and action, while he foresaw that there was no alternative other than fighting for their lives, or voluntarily surrendering themselves to the atrocities of the foe. A low wail of lamentation could be heard from hundreds of homes, like the murmur of a torrent. Now and then it broke into a sharp cry of defiance from maddened groups on the house-tops, as a torrent leaps and splashes high in air over some sharp obstacle that opposes its course.