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"He died for me. He didn't understand about Israel or the kingdom. He just died, without any idea what we were fighting about." Then, heedless of the master's weariness, forgetting everything but the guilt that had tormented him every moment since the day of the rescue, he poured out the story of Rosh, of the betrayal on the mountain, of Nathan's death, and the debt that Samson's sacrifice had laid upon him.

"Yes," said Jesus slowly. "An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. It is so written. We must repay in kind. But Samson has given you all that he had. In what kind can you repay him?"

"By vengeance!"

"He did not give you vengeance. He gave you love. There is no greater love than that, that a man should lay down his life for his friend. Think, Daniel, can you repay such love with hate?"

"It's too late to love Samson. He is probably dead." Then, as Jesus waited, "Should I love the Romans who killed him?" he asked with bitterness.

Jesus smiled. "You think that is impossible, don't you? Can't you see, Daniel, it is hate that is the enemy? Not men. Hate does not die with killing. It only springs up a hundredfold. The only thing stronger than hate is love."

The boy lowered his head, scowling at the floor. This was not what he had come to find. With terror, he pushed away the words that struck treacherously into his own weakness. When he looked up again, Jesus sat with his head bowed, one hand across his eyes. Every line of his body showed his urgent need to rest. Daniel felt a stab of conscience. But his own need was too great. He had to speak.

"I don't understand," he pleaded. "But I know that you could save us all if you would. Master! Why will you not lead us? There are so many—hundreds—thousands—in Galilee, who only wait for a word. How long must we wait?"

Jesus did not seem to have heard. He did not move. Slowly Daniel got to his feet. As his hand touched the latch, Jesus spoke. He had risen too, and stood looking after the boy.

"Daniel," he said. "I would have you follow me."

"Master!" A great burst of hope almost swept him to his knees. "I will fight for you to the end!"

Jesus smiled at him gently. "My loyal friend," he said, "I would ask something much harder than that. Would you love for me to the end?"

Baffled, Daniel felt the hope slipping away. "I don't understand," he said again. "You tell people about the kingdom. Are we not to fight for it?"

"The kingdom is only bought at a great price," Jesus said. "There was one who came just yesterday and wanted to follow me. He was very rich, and when I asked him to give up his wealth, he went away."

"I will give you everything I have!"

Something almost like a twinkle of humor lighted for an instant the sadness of Jesus' eyes. "Riches are not keeping you from the kingdom," he said. "You must give up your hate."

Daniel felt himself trembling. He was torn in two. Before the appeal in the man's eyes he felt the whole fabric of his life about to give way, and the very ground beneath his feet like shifting sand. He summoned all his strength to battle for the thing that was most precious to him.

"I made a vow before God!" he defied Jesus. "Is not a vow sacred?"

Jesus looked at him steadily, with a look he knew he would never forget, full of sadness, and regret, and a deep loneliness beyond any reach.

"Yes," he said. "It is sacred. What did you vow, Daniel?"

"To fight!" Daniel stopped, remembering the night in the passage, seeing Joel's face, trying to remember the exact words they had spoken. Thacia's voice came back to him. "To live and to die for God's Victory!"

A smile suddenly transformed Jesus' face, the old smile, radiant, full of youth and strength. He put his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"That is not a vow of hate," he said. "Go in peace, my son. You are not far from the kingdom."

22

ON THE FIFTEENTH DAY of Tishri, the Day of Atonement, Daniel stood in the door of his shop. Even so early the holiday spirit stirred the narrow street like a fresh breeze. No one in the village appeared to be