The motley, restless crowd grew thicker and thicker as the committee approached the spot where they knew John must be found, and at last they had some difficulty in pushing their way through the congested groups. As they elbowed their way, the crowd would look at them and then, seeing they were ministers, would make way for them. Suddenly they came upon the Baptist, almost before they had expected to find him. He was eating a meal of indescribable food, sitting upon the ground, holding the plate upon his knees. He was, indeed, a shaggy, wild-looking figure, thin-faced, sallow, with filmy, restless eyes and a black, coarse mat of hair and beard. He wore the same dress of hairy cloth that the picture in the public journal had represented. The heavy brogans were wet and soaked with water, his legs, showing above the shoe-tops, were lean and hairy. A little cluster of his disciples, or attendants, surrounded him; some of them were eating their food, others, who had finished, were lying stretched upon the ground talking in an undertone. They were all rough, common-looking men, several of them apparently fishermen. Surrounding this group, and at a little distance, the people stood in a crowd looking intently at the Baptist. The committee also stood for a while looking at him; then Dr. Caiaphas came forward. As the priest approached, the Baptist looked towards him with vacant, lustreless eyes. The sun suddenly came out from behind a passing cloud and shone full upon his face, but he did not wink his eyes nor shade them from the glare. "My friend," said the rector of the Church of the Advent, "my name is Theodore Caiaphas. I do not know whether you have heard of me or not, but I have heard of you. I am, as you see, an ordained priest. I and my friends"--here he indicated the others of the committee--"have come down to learn just what it is you preach, just what your opinions are, and just what you advocate. Will you tell me, first of all, who you are?" John sat looking intently but vacantly at him. He did not speak for a little while. Then he said, in a sudden, loud voice, "I am not the Christ." "So I understand," said Dr. Caiaphas. "But are you a prophet--such a one, for instance, as Elijah?" "I am not," said the fanatic, still in the same loud voice. "Ah! Then you are not even a prophet?" said Dr. Caiaphas. "No." "Who are you, then?" said Dr. Caiaphas; "and what are you? Tell us who you are, that we may give an answer to them that sent us." He tried not to feel the absurdity of the situation, but some of the other clergymen laughed. John turned up his face and looked almost directly into the dazzling light of the sun above. He raised his lean arms, with his hands outspread and his fingers stretched wide open. "I am," he cried, in a loud voice, "the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Make straight the way, as said Isaiah, the prophet."