Jesus got up without a further word. Night had overwhelmed the earth. The people dispersed; men and women returned to their wretched huts, whispering to one another. Their hearts had been filled. Can the word give nourishment? they asked themselves. Yes, it can-when it is the good word!

Jesus held out his hand to take leave of the old proprietor, but Ananias fell at his feet.

“Rabbi,” he murmured, “forgive me!” and he burst into tears.

That same night, under the olive trees where they had lain down to sleep, Judas went and found the son of Mary. He could not calm himself. He had to see him and speak to him so that they could lay their cards down on the table and make everything perfectly clear. When, at the house of that criminal Ananias, he had rejoiced at the rich man’s punishment in hell and clapped his hands and shouted, “Served him right!” Jesus had looked at him out of the corner of his eye for a long time, secretly, as though scolding him, and this glance still tortured him. It was imperative, therefore, that they clear up their accounts. Judas did not like half-baked words or secret glances.

“Welcome,” said Jesus. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Son of Mary, I don’t fit in with the others,” the redbeard started straight off. “I don’t have the virginity and goodness of John, your darling, and I’m not a scatter-brained daydreamer like Andrew, who changes his mind with every breeze that blows. I am a wild, uncompromising beast. I was born out of wedlock and my mother threw me into the wilderness, where I suckled on the milk of the wolf. I became rough, rigid and honest. Whoever I love-I’m dirt under his feet; whoever I hate-I kill.”

As he spoke, his voice grew hoarse. His eyes threw sparks into the darkness. Jesus placed his hand on the terrible head in order to calm it. But the redbeard shook off this hand of peace.

Weighing his words one by one, he continued: “I am even able to kill someone I love, if I see him slip away from the true path.”

“Which is the true path, Judas, my brother?”

“The deliverance of Israel.”

Jesus closed his eyes and did not reply. The two flames which were being slung at him out of the darkness burned him, as did Judas’s words. What was Israel? Why only Israel? Weren’t we all brothers?

The redbeard waited for an answer, but the son of Mary did not speak. Judas grasped him by the arm and shook him as though trying to wake him up. “Do you understand?” he asked. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, I understand,” Jesus answered, opening his eyes.

“I’ve spoken to you without beating about the bush because I want you to know who I am and what I desire, so that you can give me an answer. Do you wish me to come with you or don’t you? I want to know.”

“I want you to come, Judas, my brother.”

“And you’ll let me speak my mind freely; you’ll let me object, say ‘no’ when you say ‘yes’? Because-I’ll tell you so there will be no doubt in your mind-everyone else may listen to you with gaping mouth, but not me! I’m no slave; I’m a free man. That’s the way things are, and you’d better make the best of it.”

“But freedom, Judas, is exactly what I want too.”

The redbeard gave a start. Grasping Jesus’ shoulder, he shouted with fiery breath, “You want to free Israel from the Romans?”

“To free the soul from sin.”

Judas snatched his hand away from Jesus’ shoulder in a frenzy and banged his fist against the trunk of the olive tree. “This is where our ways part,” he growled, facing Jesus and looking at him with hatred. “First the body must be freed from the Romans, and later the soul from sin. That is the road. Can you take it? A house isn’t built from the roof down; it’s built from the foundation up.”

“The foundation is the soul, Judas.”

“The foundation is the body-that’s where you’ve got to begin. Watch out, son of Mary. I’ve said it once and I say it again: watch out, take the road I tell you. Why do you think I go along with you? Well, you’d better learn: it’s to show you your way.”

Andrew was under the neighboring olive tree. He heard talk in his sleep and awoke. Listening intently, he made out the rabbi’s voice and one other, raucous and full of anger. He quivered like a startled deer. Could people have come during the night to annoy the rabbi? Andrew knew that wherever the teacher went he left behind him many women and young men, and whole flocks of the poor, who loved him; but also many notables, many of the rich and old, who hated him and wanted his downfall. Could these criminals have sent some hooligan to harm him? He crept forward in the darkness on all fours, toward the voices. But the redbeard heard the creeping and rose to his knees.

“Who’s there?” he called.

Andrew recognized the voice. “Judas, it’s me, Andrew,” he answered.

“Go back to bed, son of Jonah. We’ve got private business.”

“Go to sleep, Andrew, my child,” Jesus said also.

Judas lowered his voice now. Jesus felt the redbeard’s heavy breath on his face.

“You’ll remember that I disclosed to you in the desert that the brotherhood commissioned me to kill you. But at the very last minute I changed my mind, put the knife back into its sheath and ran away from the monastery at dawn, like a thief.”

“Why did you change your mind, Judas, my brother? I was ready.”

“I wanted to wait.”

“To wait for what?”

Judas was silent for a moment. Then, suddenly: “To see if you were the One awaited by Israel.”

Jesus shuddered. He leaned against the trunk of the olive tree, his whole body trembling.

“I don’t want to rush into this and kill the Saviour; no, I don’t want that!” Judas cried out, wiping his brow, which had suddenly become drenched with sweat. “Do you understand?” he screamed, as though someone were strangling him. “Do you understand: I don’t want that!”

He took a deep breath. “He might not even know it himself, I said. Best be patient and let him live awhile, let him live so that we can see what he says and does; and if he isn’t the One we’re waiting for, there’s always plenty of time to get rid of him… That’s what I said to myself, that’s why I let you live.”

He puffed for some time, scooping out the soil with his big toe. Suddenly he grabbed Jesus by the arm. His voice was hoarse and despairing. “I don’t know what to call you-son of Mary? son of the Carpenter? son of David? As you can see, I still don’t know who you are-but neither do you. We both must discover the answer; we both must find relief! No, this uncertainty cannot last. Don’t look at the others-they follow you like bleating sheep; don’t look at the women, who do nothing but admire you and spill tears. After all, they’re women: they have hearts and no minds, and we’ve no use for them. It’s we two who must find out who you are and whether this flame that burns you is the God of Israel or the devil. We must! We must!”

Jesus trembled all over. “What can we do, Judas, my brother? How can we discover the answer? Help me.”

“There is a way.”

“How?”

“We’ll go to John the Baptist. He will be able to tell us. He shouts, ‘He’s coming! He’s coming!’ doesn’t he? Well, then, as soon as he sees you, he’ll understand whether or not you’re the one who is coming. Let’s go: you’ll calm your nerves, and I’ll find out what I have to do.”

Jesus plunged into a profound meditation. How many times had this anxiety taken possession of him, how many times had he fallen face down on the ground, shaken with convulsions and foaming at the mouth! People thought him deranged, possessed with a devil, and they hurried by, frightened. But he was in the seventh heaven; his mind had fled its cage, ascended, knocked on God’s door and asked, Who am I? Why was I born? What must I do to save the world? Which is the shortest road-is it perhaps my own death?

He raised his head. Judas’s whole body was bent over him.