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Pilate sat dumb and irresolute, ——- And Pilate’s sight grew misty and strained.-his temples throbbed and ached. He was tired, confused, pained and perplexed; the extraordinary beauty of the Figure confronting him was too singularly unique to be otherwise than powerfully impressive, and he knew as thoroughly as ever mortal judge knew anything, that to condemn this Man to a hideous and unmerited death would be to commit crime the consequences of which he could not quite foresee, but which he instinctively dreaded. He was perfectly aware of the active part the high-priests Caiaphas and Annas had played in the work of hunting down the ‘Nazarene’ and bringing Him before the Tribunal, and he also realised the manner in which they had laid their plans. A certain wild and lawless man named Iscariot, the only son of his father, had banded himself with the disciples of this Jesus of Nazareth, and the elder Iscariot, a wealthy usurer, was a close friend and confidant of Caiaphas. It was therefore not difficult to perceive how the father, prompted by the high-priest, and himself displeased at the son’s sudden fanaticism for a stranger, had brought all the weight of religious and parental authority to bear in persuading the young man to give up his so-called ‘Master’ to justice. There are other far more deeply hidden motives than these of which Pilate was ignorant, but what little he he knew, or thought he knew, was sufficient to make him distrust the unsupported witness of the priests and elders alone. Pondering the matter within himself a while, he presently turned to the council and demanded, ‘
‘Where is Iscariot?’
Ye tell me it was he who brought the guard to where this Nazarene lay hidden,’ proceeded Pilate slowly,-‘And he hath taken so chief a path in the capture, he should be here. I would fain know what he hath to say concerning the doings of the man whom first he chose to follow and then forsake. Let him be brought before me.’
Annas leaned forward with an air of apologetic servility.
‘The young man hath fled from the city out of fear; he had been seized with some fool’s panic, for lo, he came to us at midnight, badly bemoaning his sin and bringing back the silver which we had given him as guerdon for his service and obedience to the law. Some evil fever surely worked within his blood, for while we yet gently reasoned with him in hope to calm his frenzy, all suddenly he dashed the money down before us in the Temple and departed in haste, we know not whither.’
Marie Corelli: Barabbas ; A Dream Of The World’s Tragedy
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Text and image source: Andrew Ezeudegbe https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0U3aEcB5R5XiEWMkAWUkaQuiebU99zLNuDgV2K18ojuDATB4iQ3uAQLc5NGCKXPB6l&id=100003959785265&mibextid=Nif5oz
Purplerays 