Chapter 11

The rain had ceased while this strange event was in progress, and the sun was shining brightly. Slowly and silently the awe-stricken crowd was moving out of the house. The visitors from Jerusalem had circled into a compact, whispering group by the breakfast-room window that gave upon the front verandah, now congested with the departing multitude. Nathan was addressing them. Old Rabbi Ben-Sholem was solemnly nodding his head. Jairus gave them a brief glance, and decided that his obligations as their host had been discharged. The venerable Ben-Sholem could attend to them from now on.

Jesus had slumped into a chair near the doorway, his posture denoting complete exhaustion. His elbows rested on the broad arms of the chair and his bowed head was supported by white, trembling hands. As Jairus neared he slowly lifted his head and smiled wanly. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted his pale brow.

‘I shall go now,’ he said huskily, ‘if there are to be no further questions.’

‘You are welcome to remain, Master,’ said Jairus. ‘You seem to be very tired. Tarry with us—and rest awhile. Come with me.’

Wearily acquiescing with a nod, Jesus rose slowly and followed his host down the long corridor and through the atrium and on to the adjacent library. As they entered, Adiel and Sharon, who had been seated by the window, apparently in complete ignorance of the amazing thing that had happened, rose to go.

‘My wife, Master,’ said Jairus…’Adiel, this is Jesus—of Nazareth.’

Sharon, hugging a small harp in her arms, stood staring up into the stranger’s face as her mother murmured a response to the introduction. Jesus looked down into the child’s wondering eyes with a smile.

‘Our little daughter, Sharon,’ said Jairus.

Laying his hand lightly on her curly head, Jesus remarked that it was an appropriate name. ‘Name of a rose,’ he said. Sharon nodded soberly and continued to stare bewilderedly into his face.

‘Come, dear,’ said Adiel, taking her hand.

‘Let her remain, Adiel,’ said Jesus. ‘I shall tell her a story.’

His calling her by name—a familiarity not to be taken by a stranger—warmed Adiel’s heart. For an instant she felt as if they had been long-time friends, but this sensation was quickly succeeded by the feeling that he had addressed her as if she were a child, though she surmised that she was somewhat older than he. Jairus, taking note of her pleased bewilderment, remembered his own surprise and gratification when Jesus had spoken his name. It was not customary for village carpenters to address him as ‘Jairus.’