He would ask him one question.
Taking off his long outer garment and the handkerchief from his head, he threw them upon the orchard wall, and started after the posse, which he boldly joined.

Through the stragglers he made way, and by littles at length reached the man who carried the ends of the rope with which the prisoner was bound.
The Nazarene was walking slowly, his head down, his hands bound behind him; the hair fell thickly over his face, and he stooped more than usual; apparently he was oblivious to all going on around him.

In advance a few steps were priests and elders talking and occasionally looking back.

When, at length, they were all near the bridge in the gorge, Ben-Hur took the rope from the servant who had it, and stepped past him.
"Master, master!" he said, hurriedly, speaking close to the Nazarene's ear.

"Dost thou hear, master?
A word--one word.
Tell me--" The fellow from whom he had taken the rope now claimed it.
"Tell me," Ben-Hur continued, "goest thou with these of thine own accord ?" The people were come up now, and in his own ears asking angrily, "Who art thou, man ?" "O master," Ben-Hur made haste to say, his voice sharp with anxiety, "I am thy friend and lover.