Fortune seems to be with us, he said, as he carried Jesus through the doorway, but he must have a bed, and fortune is still with us, they haven't removed the bed; and as soon as Jesus was laid upon it he began to remember many things. He must go to the house and get a lamp, and in the house he remembered that he must bring some wine and some water. He noticed that his hand and his sleeve were stained with blood. He must have been badly scourged, he said, and continued his search for bottles, and after mixing wine and water he returned to the gardener's cottage, hoping that casual ministrations would relieve Jesus of some of the pain he was suffering till Esora would come with her more serious remedies in the morning.
He put the lamp on a chair on the opposite side of the bed and turned Jesus over and began to pick out of the wounds the splinters of the rods he had been beaten with, and after binding up the back with a linen cloth he drew Jesus' head forward and managed to get him to swallow a little wine and water. I can do no more, he said, and must leave him.... It will be better to lock the door; he must bide there till I hear Esora on the stairs coming down from her room. She is always out of bed first, and if luck is still with us she will rise early this morning.
He tried to check his thoughts, but they ran on till he remembered that he must fetch the lantern forgotten among the rocks, and that he should follow the twisting path up and down the hillside seemed more than he could accomplish. Strength and will seemed to have departed from him; yet he must go back to fetch the lantern. He had left it lighted, and some curious person might be led by the light ... the open sepulchre would attract his eye, and he might take up the light and discover the tomb to be empty. It wasn't likely, but some such curious one might be on the prowl. Now was the only safe time to fetch the lantern. He daren't leave it.... At the first light Mary and Martha would be at the sepulchre, and the finding of a lantern by the door of the empty sepulchre would give rise to--
He passed through his gates, locking them after him, too weary to think further what might and might not befall.
And when he returned with the lantern he had forgotten he threw himself on his bed, remembering that he must not sleep, for to miss Esora as she came downstairs would mean to leave Jesus in pain longer than he need be left. But sleep closed his eyelids. Sleep! He did not know if he had slept. The room was still quite dark, and Esora did not come down till dawn; and, sitting up in his bed, he said: God saved him from death, or raised him out of death, but he has not raised him yet into heaven. He is in the gardener's cottage! If only Esora can cure him of his wounds, he continued, he and I might live together in this garden happily.