Father." Who his Father was I do not understand. At first I thought it might be some of those graybeards, but now I think not.
However, daylight had come in earnest now and I made up my mind that I would take the prisoner before Pilate and if so that he were guilty of any offense, he could be punished according to law and not harried like a quarry by the hounds. However, his enemies reached the same decision. It appeared they wanted to put him to death and they had to get a decree from Pilate before this could be done, so without my interference they hustled him away to Pilate's residence. Only I cautioned Caiaphas that if they showed the prisoner any more violence, I would take him out of their hands. Caiaphas and Annas scowled most beautifully at this, almost enough to give me warrant for knocking their heads together, a pleasure I hope to have some day.
I looked back as we went down the street towards Pilate's house and thought all Jerusalem was trailing behind us. The street was full. People were clambering over the housetops and from the lower city came that distant confused murmuring that I have heard a time or two when trouble was breeding and I felt it in my bones that some great tragedy was impending. When we came to Pilate's house, there was another halt and more wigwagging of white heads. It seemed to-day was some kind of High Day with these cattle and they would not profane their sacred garments by entering the house of a Roman. I settled their palaver in a moment by taking the prisoner away from them and marching him up on the porch. Pilate knows these Jews well. He has conned their prejudices and passions and reads them
