Chapter 23

All that day they had worked side by side, and mostly in silence, on the long neglected deck. Occasionally Thad ventured some brief comment, but received little co-operation. Once, when he addressed the taciturn skipper as ‘Peter,’ the Big Fisherman had said sadly, ‘My name is Simon. Please remember that.’ On Tuesday, Thad rowed in for one of the tents Esther had used last summer. If it should rain in the night he would be protected. His eyes were bright with excitement when he returned.

‘They’re saying in the village,’ he reported, ‘that the Tetrarch’s caravan was set upon—and he was killed!’

But even this shocking news failed to lift Simon’s apathy. He was silent for a while and then remarked, ‘That will close the palace.’ After another interval, he added, ‘They will not need any more fish.’

And now it was Wednesday morning. Thad had gone ashore on an errand. Simon’s knees were lame from his unaccustomed exercise, and after an hour of it he got wearily to his feet and walked the length of the deck, wondering what had detained the boy. Three dories were on the water, and moving rapidly, their oars flashing in the sun. With narrowed eyes, shaded by his cupped hands, Simon identified the occupants of the boats. Thad was bringing Andrew. James and John were in the second dory, which had overtaken and was now passing Thad’s. Lagging behind came Philip with Thomas and old Bartholomew.

Simon’s heart was in his throat. How could he face these men? They were drawing closer now, near enough for him to see their animation. They seemed happy! Whatever could have happened? He tossed a rope to the first dory and Johnny scrambled up, flung a leg over the rail and threw his arms around the bewildered skipper.

‘You haven’t heard!’ he shouted exultantly. ‘You don’t know! Listen! Jesus lives!…I tell you—he is alive again!’

James had grasped Simon’s arm.

‘We have seen him, Peter! He came to us—Sunday night—at Ben-Josef’s house!’

They had all swarmed over the rail now, all but Bartholomew, who was being tugged on board by Thad. Simon stood there dazed, his lips quivering, the tears running down his cheeks.

‘He told us to make haste and go home,’ said Philip. ‘He was anxious for you to know.’

‘That’s what he said,’ put in Johnny. ‘He said, “Go and tell Peter!”‘

‘Are you sure he said “Peter”?’ asked the Big Fisherman huskily.

‘Aye! That he did!’ declared Bartholomew. ‘”Go—quickly—and tell Peter!”‘

‘Where is he now?’ entreated Peter. ‘I must go to him!’