Chapter 11

The butler made off with his instructions and Jairus laid his hand lightly on the library door, but hesitated to re-enter. In some curious manner, Joseph’s intrusion had broken the strange spell that had stilled his mind and had brought Jairus back abruptly to familiar footing on solid ground. His mind had resumed its normal process. There had been much too much mystery that day. He had drifted along on the compelling tide of it, offering no resistance, asking no questions. Now that he had been suddenly and roughly beached by this clutch of the commonplace, he began—rather dazedly—to put his thoughts in order.

One thing was sure: his credulity had been severely overtaxed. He had always been a practical fellow, with no talent for belief in things he could not see, hear, taste, or handle. Today he had allowed himself to be influenced by a succession of mysterious events for which the strange Carpenter was responsible.

To begin with, he had had a friendly interest in the Carpenter because he had determined that the man should not be mistreated in his house…Then, in the excitement and confusion of the storm, there had been that peculiar incident under the dome of the atrium. The Carpenter had calmly assured him that it was safe, and Jairus had taken his word for it. But—so had the architect assured him that the dome was safe. Doubtless his fears had been groundless. Now that the storm was over, Jairus felt ashamed of his apprehensions.

Then, there had been a miracle; or, so it had seemed, though until now he had had no opportunity to examine it calmly. The young man was ill and crippled; there was no doubt about that. Indeed, he had been far from well when he departed, as one could see by his pallor and weakness. Whether he had been helpless and quite unable to walk at all—well, there had been no testimony about that. The sullen critics from Jerusalem, whatever might be the unfairness of their hostility to the Carpenter, certainly had a right to raise that question. To what extent was the young fellow paralysed?

Jairus had been willing—and was still willing—to give the Nazarene the benefit of the doubt concerning the validity of this miracle; though, with all respect for the Carpenter’s obviously honest belief in his own power, it would be less disturbing if it could be shown that the young man had been able to walk; maybe not very well or very far, but—able to walk.

But now another factor had been injected into the strange case of the Carpenter. He had been describing—and in a tone of deep sincerity—a Kingdom prepared for all who might be presumed to enjoy living in a land where it never stormed, where no one was ever sick or sorry, where no one owned anything for himself, and all were equal in the sight of the King.