Suddenly a dimness began to fill the sky and cover the earth--at first no more than a scarce perceptible fading of the day; a twilight out of time; an evening gliding in upon the splendors of noon.

But it deepened, and directly drew attention; whereat the noise of the shouting and laughter fell off, and men, doubting their senses, gazed at each other curiously: then they looked to the sun again; then at the mountains, getting farther away; at the sky and the near landscape, sinking in shadow; at the hill upon which the tragedy was enacting; and from all these they gazed at each other again, and turned pale, and held their peace.
"It is only a mist or passing cloud," Simonides said soothingly to Esther, who was alarmed.

"It will brighten presently." Ben-Hur did not think so.
"It is not a mist or a cloud," he said.

"The spirits who live in the air--the prophets and saints--are at work in mercy to themselves and nature.

I say to you, O Simonides, truly as God lives, he who hangs yonder is the Son of God." And leaving Simonides lost in wonder at such a speech from him, he went where Balthasar was kneeling near by, and laid his hand upon the good man's shoulder.
"O wise Egyptian, hearken! Thou alone wert right--the Nazarene is indeed the Son of God." Balthasar drew him down to him, and replied, feebly, "I saw him a child in the manger where he was first laid; it is not strange that I knew him sooner than thou; but oh that I should live to see this day! Would I had died with my brethren! Happy Melchior! Happy, happy Gaspar!" "Comfort thee!" said Ben-Hur.