There he found a gateway without a gate admitting to the orchard, and he halted to take in the scene.
A man in white clothes, and bareheaded, was standing outside the entrance, his hands crossed before him--a slender, stooping figure, with long hair and thin face--in an attitude of resignation and waiting.
It was the Nazarene! Behind him, next the gateway, were the disciples in a group; they were excited, but no man was ever calmer than he.

The torchlight beat redly upon him, giving his hair a tint ruddier than was natural to it; yet the expression of the countenance was as usual all gentleness and pity.
Opposite this most unmartial figure stood the rabble, gaping, silent, awed, cowering--ready at a sign of anger from him to break and run.

And from him to them--then at Judas, conspicuous in their midst--Ben-Hur looked--one quick glance, and the object of the visit lay open to his understanding.

Here was the betrayer, there the betrayed; and these with clubs and staves, and the legionaries, were brought to take him.
A man may not always tell what he will do until the trial is upon him.

This was the emergency for which Ben-Hur had been for years preparing.