Chapter 26

Never had there been a fairer morning in Jerusalem than on this Day of Pentecost.

Since dawn, every road leading into the city had been filling with merry-makers on foot from the provinces, and within an hour the highways were crowded.

Frequently the country people scampered to the hedges, good-naturedly conceding the right of way to impressive caravans from distant lands, unannoyed by the haughty stares of the urbane strangers.

Once within the gaily decorated gates, the festive throng jostled toward the bazaars and food-markets, while the sober-faced men of consequence, indifferent to the city’s gaiety, proceeded on through to the Sheep Gate and up the steepening Bethany boulevard to Levi’s Inn, where, after a comforting bath and a change of linen, they would rest until it was time to attend the famous camel-auction in the early afternoon.

A short distance down the hill from Levi’s stood a massive old stone structure which had long served as headquarters for the Coppersmiths’ Guild. It was an undeniably ugly building, but no discredit to the street, for the organization that it housed was one of the most honourable institutions in Jerusalem. The Coppersmiths’ Guild had been the first society to volunteer substantial aid to Nehemiah when he rebuilt the city’s walls more than four centuries ago.

The high-ceilinged, rectangular second story of the Guildhall, accessible by an outside staircase, was used as an auditorium. It had seating for approximately two hundred and served not only the general conclaves of the Guild but was frequently rented to business conventions with a large non-resident membership.

The hall was open this morning and gradually filling with men of all sorts whose only observable relation to one another was their apparent uncertainty as to the nature of their errand. For the most part they came singly. The majority of them were of middle age, plainly dressed in country garb, and obviously from the provinces. They slowly mounted the stone staircase, diffidently entered the dingy old auditorium, and stood awkwardly for a long moment wondering what was expected of them, for there were no ushers, nor was there anyone in sight who had the appearance of being responsible for the mysterious meeting. After tarrying awhile at the door, the bewildered men from the country found seats and sat down to wait. A sprinkling of well-dressed men of affairs stalked in, one by one; but, for all their urbanity, they seemed quite as confused as the unsophisticated provincials.

Jairus turned to young Joel, as they lingered in the doorway to survey the half-filled room, and asked, ‘Do you see anyone you ever saw before?’ And Joel, craning about, shook his head; but immediately amended his reply to whisper, ‘Over there is a man I recognize. His name is Micah. He was a labourer in the Tetrarch’s vineyard.’

‘I wonder what brings him here,’ mumbled Jairus.