"Get thee behind me, prophet of evil," growled Peter; "thou hast ever the dismal croak of the raven. What if Herod intends to acknowledge Jesus as the lawful descendant of David and the promised Messiah? The tetrarch is, after all, a Jew, and looks for the deliverance of Israel."
Judas laughed silently, his narrow eye-slits shooting arrows of scorn at the big fisherman. "What if the stones of the temple should suddenly become armed troops for the defense of our sapient Master?" he asked.
"It might well be so," murmured Peter thoughtfully. "Did he not walk upon the sea? Did he not control the lightnings and the tempest? Did he not feed the five thousand with one man's victual? Hist now, they are speaking to him!"
The courtiers of Herod, garbed as Roman exquisites, perfumed and smiling, were addressing themselves to the man of Nazareth. They prefaced their words with extravagant obeisances, tendered with mock humility. Behind them stood the Pharisees alert and watchful.
"Listen!" repeated the fisherman, his honest face flushed with expectancy.
"We know that thou art true, Rabbi," began the spokesman of the party, "and carest for the opinion of no man; for thou regardest not the person of men, but teachest the way of God in truth. Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not? Shall we give, or shall we not give?"
Jesus faced his inquisitors, erect and calm, his deep eyes searching their hypocritical hearts. There was silence for a full minute, while the crowded listeners craned their necks for his reply, and Judas clenched his knotted hands in a very agony of suspense. This was the supreme moment. Tribute to Cæsar, or no? Tribute to the usurping heathen emperor, or allegiance to the throne of David--which?
The carpenter's son whitened slowly under the fiery eyes which scorched him with their brutal passions. Then came his answer--spoken slowly, deliberately: "Why tempt ye me? Give me a penny, that I may see it."
The perfumed exquisite from Herod's court languidly fingered the gold pieces in his pouch, with a pitying smile for this penniless pretender to a throne, and presently, drawing therefrom one of the lesser coins of the empire, gave it to the Nazarene.
"Whose is this image and superscription?" demanded Jesus, his voice ringing out in the crowded place like the peal of a great bell.