# Lazarus, a tale of the world's great miracle/Chapter 27

CHAPTER XXVII.
NOTWITHSTANDING all the stirring events and anxieties of that period, notwithstanding the frequent threatenings that were directed at the Nazarene and Lazarus, life in the house at Bethany had resumed its usual aspect, and, to all appearance, ran its ordinary course.
One there was, however, whose whole life had undergone a change. Sins in others, that he had before regarded as intolerable, were spoken of with leniency and made only the subject of prayer by Lazarus. High place, his position in the Sanhedrim and as a ruler, not only ceased to have any value in his eyes, but aroused in him a faint sense of wonder that he should ever have desired them; while, somewhat to Martha's dismay, large sums were daily distributed in secret to the poor.
"Thou wilt have nothing left at last," she said to Lazarus one day.
"He hath said that I should give to the poor all I possessed and follow Him," replied Lazarus simply. "When all shall have been given, the Lord will provide more."
And Martha would go away, shrugging her shoulders, but not arguing, as she would have done in the olden days.
But one there was who watched the face of Lazarus ​with an increasing intensity of love that sharpened observation, and who saw upon it a restless expression, as of some inward doubt; and this was his sister Mary.
"Hast any troubles, Lazarus?" she asked him about two days after the entry into Jerusalem.
"I scarce know whether 't is trouble or not," he answered; "or whether the tempting of some sin to be resisted; and, if it be, whether I should have courage to resist it."
"I know," said Mary half playfully. "I guessed it long ago. Thou dost love the Magdalene."
Lazarus looked at her in wonder at her discernment.
"And she too loveth thee well, I know," went on his sister. "Yet I know not what would be said in Israel if thou didst marry the sinner."
"I care not what they say in Israel," answered Lazarus. "Henceforth I am a free man, held no more in bondage by the letter, but only by the spirit; and if methought I could raise the Magdalene once more in the eyes of those around us, I would do it gladly. Yet there is more in all this than can be readily thought out. I know not whether the Lord would have me do this thing; for when He said, 'Leave all and follow Me,' 't was, perchance, that He requireth all my service, all my heart. Then again, I fear that when our dear Master shall be dead, we too shall be seized and condemned to death, for that we loved Him and can bear witness to His great glory. Thus I know not whether 't were better to link my life with the Magdalene or not."
​"What will the proud Rebekah say?" asked Mary, leaving her brother's arguments unanswered, while she followed her own thoughts into other channels; "for I hear that, since thy resurrection, she is like one mad with joy. Thinkest thou she will believe, for she did say, 'If He raiseth Lazarus, I too will believe'?"
"God will it so," said Lazarus, musingly, and somewhat doubtfully. "I would not judge her; but I fear she would believe only if I did love her; yet, if I should wed the Magdalene, methinks she would strain every nerve to get our Master and ourselves into the power of Caiaphas. Still we know not."
"Hast spoken to the Magdalene of thy love?"
"Nay, I will say naught to that loving heart till I know what the Lord wisheth me to do. This is no time for marrying or giving in marriage; yet, if I could protect the Magdalene from the world's taunts, I would gladly do it. To-night we sup with the Master, and my heart is in great heaviness; for thereafter He will be betrayed, and then, who knoweth all the grief that will come to pass? Oh that Jerusalem would believe," he went on, wearily, his mind passing to more serious things. "That surely is the greatest doubt of all, that He doth not make them to believe."
"Because they will not. Each one hath had his chance. Aye, a thousand-fold, and they will not, they will not."
A few hours later, the little band of disciples met once more. All were sad to-night, for all felt a terrible catastrophe impending. Mary and Martha had ​stayed away, for they would have been the only women present. All the disciples were to be there, besides Lazarus, Nicodemus, and others who had been around Him throughout His ministry.
John had told them that, after this, he feared there would be no meeting-place, for that the terrible hour was close at hand. It would be at the Passover that the fate of the Lord would be decided, for they could not doubt that He would be arrested the moment He set foot in Jerusalem, whether He was to be released or condemned; and all knew that, if Caiaphas's will could turn the scale, the Messiah would not be released; nay, more, He had told them that it would be so. Perhaps they still hoped for some great miracle direct from God to save their dear Lord; for hope lingers in the human heart till the very moment at which death comes and bears away our loved ones.
To-night the Nazarene had prepared a bond of remembrance between them that He would establish forever; a bond that would last through all the ages; that would serve for ever to bring back to them the memory of His ministry and His words and His stupendous sacrifice.
To-night would be Judas Iscariot's last chance of redemption. How would He live on after the Lord should have shown him that He knew what was in his heart? The tortuous path of that darkened soul will always remain inscrutable, unknown to mortals, till heaven and earth shall pass away; perhaps even throughout the immeasurable æons of eternity.
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