At sunset, the citizens who had been appointed to cut the wave-sheaf by the Sanhedrim came down through the courts, accompanied by a great concourse of people, and Helon joined in the procession. They went to the nearest field of barley before the city: the sixteenth of Nisan was begun, and the evening star was already visible in the sky. The person who was appointed to reap asked aloud, “Is the sun gone down?” The people who stood around answered, Yes.—“Shall I cut.” “Yes.”—“With this sickle?” “Yes.”—“In this basket?” “Yes.” The questions, thrice repeated, being thrice answered in the affirmative, he cut as much as would furnish an omer, and binding the sheaves together, carried them to the temple. The barley was there roasted by the fire, cleared from the husk, ground into meal, bolted thirteen times, and the omer (a measure containing about forty-three eggshells) of the finest meal was kept till the following day. Helon, having witnessed this ceremony, reluctantly left the temple, and in his dreams seemed to live over again the events of this interesting day. The stately form of the high-priest seemed to be before him, and the sacred name upon his brow to shine with a lustre too dazzling for him to behold. Then he appeared to be in the crowd, urged by some irresistible but inexplicable impulse, to force his way amidst the waves of people, seeking something which he could not find, and examining every face, but without finding that of which he was in search. Again, he seemed to be beside the high-priest, and a feeling of unutterable joy spread through all his frame. His uncle appeared to him pale and sad, and beckoned him from the temple to the valley of Jehoshaphat, where he sat by his father’s tomb and wept. A graceful and lovely form stood by his side, and pointed towards the west; he followed her, and as they went she too turned pale and sighed. A murky, sultry atmosphere gathered around him; the lightning struck a lofty cedar, the deadly vapour almost choked his breath, and he ran forward, a long and dreary way, without finding any resting place. At length a star appeared, and twinkled on him with so mild a ray that his oppression was relieved and his cheerfulness returned. He looked around him, and found himself on the north-west side of the city, on a plain which he darkly remembered that Iddo had called Golgotha. In his astonishment he awoke. CHAPTER VI. THE REMAINING DAYS OF UNLEAVENED BREAD.