“Tiberias,” he repeated. And then he added, “With dawn will come the fishermen.” The soldier cursed: “What, calf!” and checked himself. “Thou meanest,” he said, “a boat to carry me across?” He heaved out a sigh. “Well, goatherd, so be it; and while I wait I starve. Dost thou not hunger too?” “Aye,” said the goatherd, “always and for ever.” The fish were spluttering on the embers. The soldier speared one with his javelin, and, blowing on it, began to eat unceremoniously. “I would not concede so much to _my_ Fates,” he said. “I would rob sooner. Besides, here is proof plenty that you lie, old goatherd.” The goatherd bent forward, and prodded the speaker once with a finger like a crooked stick. “How old wouldst call me?” he said. “A hundred.” “I am seven-and-twenty, Roman.” The soldier laughed and stared. “Bearest thy years ill. Since when beganst to age?” “Since I began to starve.” “And when was that?” “When one said to me, ‘Feed on the illusions of the flesh until I come again.’” “One--one? What one?” “A strange white man. They called him Jesus of Nazareth about here.” The soldier, his cheek bulged with fish, stopped masticating a moment to stare, then burst into a hoarse laugh. “Ho, ho! my friend! Art in a sorry case indeed! Thou shalt starve and starve, by Cæsar. Tell me the story, goatherd.” The gaunt creature mused a little. “Why, there is none, Roman, but just this. I had heard of him and scoffed--I, a practical man--and one day (it was many seasons back) he came across the water to these hills, and a great multitude followed and gathered to him from all sides. And they brought with them a number that were maimed and sick, and the man touched them and they appeared healed, rising and blessing his name, so that I, though counting it an illusion of the spirit, could not but marvel in his magic and the people’s blindness. Now the crowd abode here into the third day, and they felt neither thirst nor hunger; but I, that durst not leave my flock, waiting for them to go, was like a ravenous wolf. And on the third day this Jesus called for food to give to his followers, and some that were his went down to the boat, and I with them. And, lo! there were but a few loaves and fishes--nothing at all for such a multitude. But I helped to carry these up, and on the way the largest fish of all I hid beneath my tunic, for I thought, ‘Great he may be, but nothing is lost that I take precautions against his failure to assuage my hunger.’ Then did he bid us all to sit upon the ground, and he blessed and brake the fish and bread; and so it happened--account it to what you will--for every soul there was a meal and to spare. But when it came to my turn he would give me none; only, gazing on me, he bade me, since faith I had not, to feed on the illusions of the flesh until he came again. And I laughed to myself, thinking of the fish; but, Roman, that fish when I came to devour it