“Let it be so. Let him be crucified!” said the rabbis with one voice. Then Lazarus rose and went out, and, in the vision, the rabbis remained seated, motionless in their places awaiting his return. The noise of Levi’s hammer echoed through the low vaulted chamber, and at each blow the smoking lamp quivered a little, casting strange shadows upon the evil faces beneath its light. At last footsteps, slow and uncertain, were heard without, the low door opened, and Lazarus entered, holding up the body of his son before him. “I have brought him before you for the last time,” he said. “Question him and hear his condemnation out of his own mouth. He repents not, though I have done my utmost to bring him back to the paths of righteousness. Question him, my masters, and let us see what he will say.” White and exhausted with long hunger and thirst, his body broken by torture, scarcely any longer sensible to bodily pain, Simon Abeles would have fallen to the ground had his father not held him under the arms. His head hung forward and the pale and noble face was inclined towards the breast, but the deep, dark eyes were open and gazed calmly upon those who sat in judgment at the table. A rough piece of linen cloth was wrapped about the boy’s shoulders and body, but his thin arms were bare. “Hearest thou, Simon, son of Lazarus?” asked the rabbis. “Knowest thou in whose presence thou standest?” “I hear you and I know you all.” There was no fear in the voice though it trembled from weakness. “Renounce then thy errors, and having suffered the chastisement of thy folly, return to the ways of thy father and of thy father’s house and of all thy people.” “I renounce my sins, and whatsoever is yet left for me to suffer, I will, by God’s help, so bear it as to be not unworthy of Christ’s mercy.” The rabbis gazed at the brave young face, and smiled and wagged their beards, talking one with another in low tones. “It is as we feared,” they said. “He is unrepentant and he is worthy of death. It is not expedient that the young adder should live. There is poison under his tongue, and he speaks things not lawful for an Israelite to hear. Let him die, that we may see him no more, and that our children be not corrupted by his false teachings.” “Hearest thou? Thou shalt die.” It was Lazarus who spoke, while holding up the boy before the table and hissing the words into his ear. “I hear. I am ready. Lead me forth.” “There is yet time to repent. If thou wilt but deny what thou hast said these many days, and return to us, thou shalt be forgiven and thy days shall be long among us, and thy children’s days after thee, and the Lord shall perchance have mercy and increase thy goods among thy fellows.” “Let him alone,” said the rabbis. “He is unrepentant.” “Lead me forth,” said Simon Abeles. “Lead him forth,” repeated the rabbis. “Perchance, when he sees the manner of his death before his eyes, he will repent at the last.”