The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 21, 1902, Page 1

e 13 L installment of “The Gospel of Judas Iscariot,” by Aaron Dwight Baldwin. The book is prov- ing the sensation of two continents and is undoubtedly the story of the bhour. The first instaliment ap- peared in the great Christmas edition of the Sunday Call, out last Sunday, December 14. This novel is to, be completed next Sunday, so if you get the Sunday Calls of December 14, 21 end 28 you will have read this great book practically without any extra cost. “The Gospel of Judas Iscariot” throws & new light on the strangs life, the character and motives of the most bitterly execrated man in either the biblical or profane history of all eges. It shows the splendors, the vices and follies, the wars and the feasts, end the sports and pleasures of Rome as they have never been shown before, and tells of the com- ing of Christ ard his long and glori- ous struggle to establish his king- dom of heaven on earth, and the remarkable part Judas played in his crucifixion. Its publication is all the more not- TO»DAY is published the second sble for the reason that it is illus- trated by reproductions from the art masterpiec of world famous paint- ers of the life and scenes of the stir- ring times in which Christ suffered and died. After e Gospel of Judas Isca- riot” will come “When Knighthood Was in Flower,” by Charles Major; “The Leopard’s Spots,” by Thomas Dixon Jr.; “The Gentleman From In- diana,” by Booth Tarkington; “Taint- ed Gold,” by Mrs. C. N. Williamson, whose “Mystery Box,” published a few weeks ago in The Sunday Call, was one of the best stories in this remarkable series; “The Turnpike House,” by Fergus Hume, etc., etc. Just ponder over this list of books, as well as the names of the writers, and remember you get all these stories free with The Sunday Call. Other announcements will be made later. Copyright, 1902, by Aaron Dwight Baldwin. o great had been our vanity, so §otait haa we been of success, that had gone on our ambitious quest well provided with changes of the richest arments that moneéy could purchase in gnmr- The finery meant to Produce an impression in Caesar’s island court was dragged forth to grace the titwt and last banqguet of the King of Wretchiedness. Ridiculous before, Diogenes ®ecame ab- solutely grotegque after the self-appointed official had dressed him as like a king as the means at d permitted - ments tha zained re Qis among the most striking figures in the strange company. His tunic, too short to hid e~ lower portion of his bare, spindie legs. Aristophanes came a wild-eyed, w -turbaned Jew. Unable to walk by 'reason of the length of his ric embroidered toga, the bre: of Tranquilius seemed to rise h he assumed a poise of self-sati: periority. As fcr the women, ally fought for portions of Ruth’s ive wardrobe, and appeared more hideous than_th, male companions as they hastily donned such garments as they were able to secure. Not all the art of all the costumers of Rome could have produced such an effect. At first I greatly marveled how human beings, not actually possessed by demons, could so make merry in the face of imme- diately impending death. While I placed no faith in the_legless astrologer's dire- ful prediction, T doubted not but what they believed it implicitly, and,-in any nt, they could hope but for a few s of life, and that attended with al- st inexpressible misery. Upon reflection. however, 1 saw that their conduct differed only in degree from that of people occupying a normal posi- tion in society. Others, to whom death might be nearer, though less well-defined, ate, and drank, and laugned, and sang, and lied, and acted most unworthy parts in the great drama of life, as though they either feared not the destroying an- gel, or regarded themselves as immortal. T thought of Livia, boasting of her horrid crimes while tottering upon the brink of the ve, and smiled sadly. I thought of myself,.of the almost certain speedy end- ing of my wrecked and misspent life, of the loz of grief I was piling upon the |~1r—url of my fond old father, and meantime Diogenes had busied in filling and circulating the wine- Weakened by long fasting, the poor s were easily affected by . the wine, which was of excellent quality, and speedil fested marked signs of in- toxication. Soon some of them began to nce, or rather totter about in a feeble aimless manner, presenting an ap- arance at once grotesque and disgust- “I have an idea,” cried the cripple at length he began rocking his bowl and leering in 2 most frightful manner, ‘Thou wilt do well to nurse it tenderl remark sseh, as he stooped down and began dancing with Tranquillus, “It Is & rare possession—for a king.” ne is at once rare and pleasant. both know my friend and pairen. Bravias Pollio, and it was he who conducted you hither. You should be the two foolish Jews who restored an ancient palace on the Palatine ard gave an entertainment that set all Rome agog. 1 had lately changed my residence and fafled to re. cefye my invitation in time to attend. but I know of it. To boast of such subjects is at ouce an honor and a pleasure.” “The honor is ours.” replied Joseph giving the dwarf a swing that caused him to turn a most fantastic somersault, “Thou art che bravest King that ever caused a throne to rock. We heard of thee in Rome—no, 'twas Capreae—and came hither to join thy gay and brilliant court. My friend was offered the govern. orship of Judea. but declined to cast his fortunes with thee.” “And the lady? By Caesar’s cloven- footed horse—as my Pollio would say—the very skies have fallen at my feet. 'Twas she who 'sct the city aflame with her Dance for the Gods. I was only a prince “then, but I heard of it.” “‘Like mysclf and friend, she is now thy faithful subject.” ] DECEM LITER R 21°7 1902 \ ‘! “Then will she repeat the dance for us?” peared before royaity. Come, amdbi ion of our lives is about to be grati- The poor, trembling woman turned her col ! tear-stained face appealing upon me. I will secure. b b t remembered Joseph's der ubject to the demon that already po: cordingly I nc that she ought to humor his fanc Diogenes, as she adv: ce propriate. art. There is within him the nature of inspiration, and directed by surrou and emotions, and whi or cease to be an ar . somber, awful _suggestions o hich i t scene_with her first step. It w: mandate of the King of was the King of Terro her imagination and dict ments. Grace was far grace that excited fes escape the clu stantly incre gle to but co ng power. great destro scene that s movements, emed more real. Sp: opened, and she fell motionle: sand. e arns wrought. While Joseph seated himself upon the sand and entered into conversation ¥ the now seemingly dethroned King, I told he town in the neighborhood, and also of the dangers of approaching it. “T will visit it at once,” she firm nounced. “I was not searched at Capreae and have a well-filled purse which will open every gate, overcome every objec- “And that most gladiy—that is, to the tion. Have no fear, I run no risk and will best of her ability, for she hath never ap- bring assistance where thou Ruth, the fail. Besides, Joseph is better with thee. He is interested at present and will not miss . me. Nothing but force can now compel him to leave this spot, and that I Ruth of fuly realized the state of her feelings, late frenzy, and that t him would be to T d him. dded my head to indicate “Let it be the Dance of Death,” upon smooth, firm sand, *“’twill be more ap- The true artist cannot be false to his ing influences must greater force. Ruth vielded to their fluence, caught the fearful spirit of the able Dance of Death. Undertaken at the retchedne s who_pos d her ing, but it was ings of horror and alarm. The controlling idea seemed to be the beating back of some encroaching de- mon, which socn developed into a strug- ches of an unseen, Tt hath been my hard fate to see many of my fellow creatures struggle with the er, but I now witnessed irregularly heaving - breast, facial expression—nothing seemed ing, save the actual presence of death. Even this was scarcely wanting, for sud- denly the limbs of the dancer srew rigid, her eves became strangely fixed, breast ceased to heave, her mouth slightly s upon the Possessed of an awful fear T flew to her side. She had but swooned from over- rtion and mental excitement and soon , though pale and tremblirg, to her feet. Joseph applauded- loudly, laughed as though the performance had been irresistibly amusing. But vestige of merriment had vanished from the motley crowd of feasters, upon whom a silence like that of the grave had sud- denly fallen. Blanched faces were pres- ent on every hand, while tears trickled down more than one seamed and hard- ened cheek. Diogenes alone retained ap- parent composure, though the twitchings of his face told me of the intense pitch of excitement to which his mind would'st BY AARON DWIGHT pAI?T II BALDWIN e —— Y SECTION TROoM™M PRiSon THE Ao Orga hat tnere was wisdom in her 1, much as I dreaded to see her art on such a hard and perilous quest, offered no objection. I accompanied her up the rugged slope and through, what still seemed to me, the ghost-haunted re- gion of rocks and gnarled trees, to/the open country beyond.” There I stood for A long time watching her gradually fad- ing figure. Suddenly Joseph appeared be- e me ““Where is Ruth?’ he demanded flercely. I had r but to tell him that she had gone to the town and would soon re- Seeing that he distrusted my I pointed out her still visible a trick to desert me,” he s of the favor that I with this most wise and pow- thou and she are plotting Without another word he turned and fled from the spot. I followed as rapidly as I was able, but he reached the beach and the scene of the late banquet before Betrayed by friend and deserted by who seem to have some unholy in- ie together, I have no course but to ve thy noble and most generous serv- " he saying to Diogenes as I up. I have a sister in Galilee, who alone, of all in the world, now loves me, saving ays thy royal person. I near at hand.” ive over,” he shouted. “Thou hast wronged me enough already. Determined to arrest his departure at all hazards, 1 seized him by the arm. As well might I have attempted to hold Samson when thirsting for the bloed of the Philistines. He threw me off as he might a child, and struck me heavily 4n the temple with his clenched hand. I knew no more, but sank unconscious to the sand. e “He is not of us, I tell thee. Doth he look like a vagabond or a worthless slave?” “How came he here, then?” “Was left by Flavius Pollio.” “The Emperor's favorite. He meant to die, doubtless. ‘Then w lives he? I doubt if Pollio hath grown suddenly squeamish.” Tis true. Stay thy hand, Phaon.” I heard this dialogue, wheréin the words mnded like distant echoes, rather than o voices, and opened mine eyes to see the sharp point of a javelin gleaming bove my throat. A more searching look howed that it was held by a bronzed- faced, ‘full-bearded Roman soldier. The dialogue in question had been carried on between a centurion and the King of Wretchedness, who still occupied his throne beside the empty and overturned wicker-basket. “Give an account of thyself,” command- ed the former, as the soldier stepped back and I rose unsteadily to my feet. “Art a slave?” “No, a free man,” I answered, “sent hither in defiance of the express com- mands of the Emperor, who ordered me and my two companions.to be returned to Judea, our native country.” ‘““Twas one of them we saw running madly away as we approached, Phaon. I thought he had too great speed for a half- starved siave. And the other’ ““His wife. he hath gone to the town for_assistance.” ‘““Where she may meet with rough treat- s o “YMasTER JORN THE BaPTIST HAST SENT 0OS To aSk OF THEE — ART THoL PROMISED, MESSIam Y -iS ment, -liké those who arrived there yes- terday.” I now cast a hurried glance around and my heart gave a great bound and seemed to stand still within -my breast. Fully half a hundred soldiers were in view, but, save only Diogenes and myself, all the late company lay dead upon the sand. ‘Could 1 t live and return to Kome I could make a fortune, perhaps win the favor of the Emperor, on the credit I have this day earned as a star-reader,” sald the cripple, addressing me and further ex- plaining his meaning by pointing to the dead bodies. “But, most unfortunateiy, I included myself in the prophecy, and must die to make it good.” “We are bound-for a far distant point on the confines of Italia,” said the cen- turion, who seemingly thought the look of horror. upon vy face calied for some justification of the wholesale murder. “Being a humane, not to say plous man, I mace a detour from the direct course that I might relieve from their suffermgs the poor wretches that I knew had been abandoned here to slowly die. Thou, who art bound for Judea, shalt come with us a goodly portion of thy wa; errified at the prospett, I hastily ex- plained my situation, and begged permis- sion to remain that I might find and reunite my devoted friends. ‘“There are three reasons why I can- not grant thy request,” replied the ce: turion. “First, none at the garrispn, sa. only the commandant, knows our destina- tion, and for thee to tell it would suggest treason on my part nd, thou know- est of my rather amiabie weakness touch- ing these poor starveiings, which was in disobedience to general orders. Lastly, 1 have need of a servant d have a mind to take thee with me as my slav, 3% w{ll prove my compiete undoing,” 1 protestdd. ather would I die with these pbor wretch fortunate friends. “Rather will it make to thy decided a vantage,” said Diogenes, who sat roc his bowl, in apparent rumination. “I saw last night a mystery in the stars that I now understand. This seeming mishap ‘s but a step toward the fuifillment of a great mission that the gods—thine own gods, if thou sest—demand of thee before thou diest. And now worthy cen- turion, that my last prediction may have force, and -hence bring comfort to Lhis soft-hearted young man, who will one day welcome death as warmly as I do, make good my forecast that I was to perish with my fellows in misery.” Thé cripple-philosopher smiled benig- nantiy upon me and bowed his huge head. Another instant, and it was lyng, dis- membered from 'his body, upon the sand. A moment later and, in obedience to an order from the officer, we were all march- ing away from the spot where I had en- countered so much misfortune and pain. My heart was heavy for my demon-pos- sessed friend and his faithful wife, now widely, seemingiy hopelessiy separated on a bieak and most inhospitable eoast, than abandon my un=- g while mine own prospec! appeared scarcely more inviting. | had never en- tertained the slightest fa: in the so- called art of star-r of the rymarkabie astrologe. ™. frst pre choose but at one referring to That it com- forted me was beyond dispute ugh, at the time, 1 scarce admitted e truth to_myself. The dwarfed trees and bushes that struggled to maintain their existence among the rocks no longer assumed weird and unna.ural shapes suggestive of monstrosity and power. Even the mutilated bodies I encountered affected me less horribly than they bad whem et, in view ent of the I could not weight to the