The Coming of the King. Bernie Babcock

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       Bernie Babcock

      The Coming of the King

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066225810

Table of Contents

       THE COMING OF THE KING

       PART ONE

       CHAPTER II

       CHAPTER III

       CHAPTER IV

       CHAPTER V

       CHAPTER VI

       CHAPTER VII

       CHAPTER VIII

       CHAPTER IX

       CHAPTER X

       CHAPTER XI

       CHAPTER XII

       CHAPTER XIII

       CHAPTER XIV

       CHAPTER XV

       CHAPTER XVI

       CHAPTER XVII

       CHAPTER XVIII

       PART TWO

       CHAPTER XX

       CHAPTER XXI

       CHAPTER XXII

       CHAPTER XXIII

       CHAPTER XXIV

       CHAPTER XXV

       CHAPTER XXVI

       CHAPTER XXVII

       CHAPTER XXVIII

       CHAPTER XXIX

       CHAPTER XXX

       CHAPTER XXXI

       CHAPTER XXXII

       CHAPTER XXXIII

       THE END

      PROLOGUE—THE CHILD

      Part One AD 32

      CHAPTER

      I IN THE NET II AT TIBERIAS III UNDER THE FOX'S NOSE IV IN THE VALLEY OF LILIES V HULDAH AND ELIZABETH VI HARD SAYINGS VII LOST—AN ANKLET VIII STRANGE TALES ABE ABOUT IX SWEET IS THE SCAR X I WOULD SEE JESUS XI ON WITH THE DANCE XII ON THE ROOF XIII ORANGE BRANCHES XIV WITH WHAT EYES XV THE DEATH OF LAZARUS XVI HE CALLETH FOR THEE XVII THINK ON THESE THINGS XVIII THOU ART THE KING

      Part Two AD 33

      XIX CATACOMBS COMRADES XX THE LITTLE TALLITH XXI ANOTHER PASSOVER XXII BRIDAL CHAMBER TALK XXIII YE GENERATION OF VIPERS XXIV BY THIS WITNESS XXV IN THE GARDEN XXVI CLAUDIA AND PILATE XXVII CAESAR'S FRIEND XXVIII ROSES AND IRIS AND TEARS XXIX SWIFT MESSENGERS XXX CLAUDIA'S DREAM XXXI KING OF THE JEWS XXXII IN THIS SIGN XXXIII I AM

      THE COMING OF THE KING

       Table of Contents

      PROLOGUE

      THE CHILD

      "The fangs of the she-wolf are whetted keen for Galilean flesh and else the wrath of Jehovah palsy the arm of Rome, Galilean soil will run red with blood from scourged backs ere the noon of a new day."

      The speaker, a slender woman wearing the garb of a peasant, lowered a water-jar from her shoulder and stood beside the bench of a workman, who paused at his task to get news from the market place.

      "The souls for the cross—are they many?" he asked.

      "A score of hundred I hear whispered, but at market place and fountain the spear of the soldier presseth hard against the ribs of those who congregate to exchange a word."

      The man, who was fashioning a heavy yoke, lifted his bearded face to that of the woman. "A score of hundred!" he exclaimed. "To-morrow's sun will climb over Tabor to the ring of axes cutting green timber for twenty hundred crosses! The mercy of God on the victims!"

      "Yea—and to-morrow's sun will set with the breeze of evening wafting one great groan of agony over the hills and vales of Galilee—one great sob of lamentation—one great curse on the barbarians of the city on the Tiber. And this for no crime save that of poverty!"

      "Insurrection," the man corrected. "The Gaulonite raised, not a popular revolt, alas. It is but insurrection."

      "Insurrection!—and why not insurrection? The Gaulonite may hang on a cross until the black winged ravens pick his bones and wild dogs carry them to desert places, but the Gaulonite speaks the voice of our fathers for verily, verily, the soil of the earth belongs to God, not men, and the toiler should eat of the increase of his labor! Doth not our toil yield the barley harvest, yet are we not ofttimes hungry? Doth not our