Lazarus scornfully. "Out of thine heart thou art confounded. Thine own heart doth witness of the Christ, for, if thou lovest me still, I must be Lazarus, and if not, why art thou here to-night? Nay, maiden, I will not wed thee, nor can I barter my Lord's freedom for all thy promises of love. Farewell!"
"So much dost thou love the Nazarene that, rather than spend thy life with me, thou wouldst see Him die. How thou must hate me!"
But Lazarus had already hurried after the others. For one instant he had hesitated, debating whether it were possible to influence this perverse daughter of Israel, and, by influencing her, to bring about the safety of his Lord. But he knew that it was not to be. The present safety of the Nazarene would mean the holding of Him back from eternal glory, eternal rest; the delaying of His return to the Father who had sent Him, the prolonging of the agony of the earthly ministry.
"What thou doest, do quickly," the Lord had said. It would be best now that all should be quickly over; yes, though his heart fainted within him when he reflected on the Saviour's sufferings, it were better that these sufferings, which had to be, should once for all be undergone, than remain hanging over the head of that gentle Saviour, like thunder clouds about to burst.
It was necessary that He should die; Lazarus, who had been in Hades, knew it better than did all other men.
Besides, he had a question to ask the Lord, if a fitting moment could be found. He must hurry on,
