He seemed not as speaking to Urban, but as if recalling to himself that death, or some secret which he was confiding to the drowsy city.

There was in this, too, something touching as well as impressive.

The laborer wept; and when Chilo began to groan and complain that in the moment of the Saviour's passion there was no one to defend him, if not from crucifixion, at least from the insults of Jews and soldiers, the gigantic fists of the barbarian began to squeeze from pity and suppressed rage.

The death only moved him; but at thought of that rabble reviling the Lamb nailed to the cross, the simple soul in him was indignant, and a wild desire of vengeance seized the man.
"Urban, dost thou know who Judas was ?" asked Chilo, suddenly.
"I know, I know!--but he hanged himself!" exclaimed the laborer.
And in his voice there was a kind of sorrow that the traitor had meted out punishment to himself, and that Judas could not fall into his hands.
"But if he had not hanged himself," continued Chilo, "and if some Christian were to meet him on land or on sea, would it not be the duty of that Christian to take revenge for the torment, the blood, and the death of the Saviour ?" "Who is there who would not take revenge, father ?" "Peace be with thee, faithful servant of the Lamb! True, it is permitted to forgive wrongs done ourselves; but who has the right to forgive a wrong done to God?
But as a serpent engenders a serpent, as malice breeds malice, and treason breeds treason, so from the poison of Judas another traitor has come; and as that one delivered to Jews and Roman soldiers the Saviour, so this man who lives among us intends to give Christ's sheep to the wolves; and if no one will anticipate the treason, if no one will crush the head of the serpent in time, destruction is waiting for us all, and with us will perish the honor of the Lamb." The laborer looked at Chilo with immense alarm, as if not understanding what he had heard.

But the Greek, covering his head with a corner of his mantle, began to repeat, with a voice coming as if from beneath the earth,--"Woe to you, servants of the true God! woe to you, Christian men and Christian women!" And again came silence, again were heard only the roar of the millstones, the deep song of the millers, and the sound of the river.
"Father," asked the laborer at last, "what kind of traitor is that ?" Chilo dropped his head.