Chapter 4

‘Perhaps you may see the Anointed One in Galilee,’ he said. ‘I wish you might be able to talk with Him. He lives in the town of Nazareth. He is a carpenter.’

‘Disguised as a carpenter?’ wondered Fara. ‘Same as I am disguised as a boy?’

‘No, He really is a carpenter, and a very good one, whereas you are only pretending to be a boy—’

‘And not doing so well at it,’ she broke in, with a pensive smile. ‘However,’ she added, ‘you are the first one to discover.’

‘You mean—I am the first one to tell you.’ John paced back and forth, frowning thoughtfully. ‘But this is no light matter,’ he went on. ‘You have vowed a vow. I shall not be the one to induce you to break it. A vow is a vow. You are intent upon going to Tiberias. Very well. Go first to Nazareth: it is not far from there. Tell your story to the Carpenter—Jesus. Abide by His counsel. You will make no mistake if you do as He tells you…I must leave you now. Since your horse is gone, you will proceed on foot, I suppose. Follow the Jordan. It is much shorter than by the travelled roads and it will be safer for you.’ Pointing to an angling path down the northern slope of the hill, he said, ‘May God be with you, daughter, and keep you safe from any harm.’ He extended a big, bony hand, and she confidently gave him her small one. Turning it about for inspection, he smiled. ‘It is not a boy’s hand. You must be very careful. I can’t advise you, now that your hair is shorn, to dress as a girl should; but,’ he repeated gently, ‘you must be careful. Those riding boots, that fine burnous. You should get into less conspicuous clothing—peasant’s clothes—as soon as possible. You could be thrown into prison for this, you know.’

‘That would be unpleasant,’ said Fara. ‘They say that prisons are very uncomfortable.’

‘I have never been in one,’ said John, ‘but I expect to be—at almost any hour now. The authorities will arrest me as a disturber of the peace.’

‘But there is no peace,’ said Fara.

‘No—there is no peace,’ agreed John soberly.

‘Is it the Temple that would silence you?’

‘Yes—but the Temple has no authority to imprison me.’

‘Who, then?’

‘The provincial government; and as I am a Galilean I shall be taken before Antipas.’

‘Then—we may meet again—in prison.’ Fara smiled grimly.

John shook his shaggy head in reproof of her ill-timed levity.

‘It is quite clear that you do not realize the utter hopelessness of your undertaking, my child,’ he said sadly. ‘I do not expect ever to see you again…Farewell.’

‘Until we meet,’ persisted Fara.

Halfway down the long hill, she turned and looked back. John was still standing where she had left him. She waved a hand and he extended his arm, as if to give her his final blessing.