Barabbas Read Online Free PDF

believe … that he is God’s own son.
    —God’s son!
    —Yes.… But surely that can’t be true, it’s almost enough to make one afraid. I would really much rather he came back as he was.
    Barabbas was quite worked up.
    —How can they talk like that! he burst out. The son of God! The son of God crucified! Don’t you see that’s impossible!
    —I said that it can’t be true. And I’ll gladly say it again if you like.
    —What sort of lunatics are they who believe that? Barabbas went on, and the scar under his eye turned dark red, as it always did when there was anything the matter. The son of God! Of course he wasn’t! Do you imagine the son of God comes down onto the earth? And starts going around preaching in your native countryside!
    —Oh … why not? It’s possible. As likely there as anywhere else. It’s a humble part of the world, to be sure, but he had to begin somewhere.
    The big fellow looked so ingenuous that Barabbas was inclined to smile, but he was far too worked up. He twisted and turned and twitched at his goat-hair mantle the whole time as though it had slipped off one shoulder, which it hadn’t.
    —And the wonders that occurred at his death, the other man said, have you thought of them?
    —What wonders?
    —Don’t you know that it grew dark when he died?
    Barabbas glanced away and rubbed his eyes for a moment.
    —And that the earth quaked and the hill of Golgotha was rent asunder where the cross stood?
    —It certainly was not! You’ve just made all that up! How do you know it was rent asunder? Were you there?
    A sudden change came over the big man. He looked uncertainly at Barabbas and then down on the ground.
    —No, no, I know nothing about it. I cannot testify to it, he stammered. And for a long time he sat silent, sighing deeply.
    At last, laying his hand on Barabbas’s arm, he said:
    —You see … I was not with my Master when he suffered and died. By then I had taken to my heels. Forsaken him and fled. And before that I had even denied him. That is the very worst of all—that I
denied
him. How can he forgive me, if he returns? What shall I say, what shall I answer when he asks me about it?
    And hiding his great bearded face in his hands, he rocked to and fro.
    —How could I do such a thing, how is it possible for one to do such a thing …?
    The bright-blue eyes were full of tears when at last he raised his head again and looked at the other man.
    —You asked what was troubling me. Now you know. Now you know the kind of man I am. And my Lord and Master knows even better. I am a poor, miserable wretch. Do you think he can forgive me?
    Barabbas answered that he thought so. He was not particularly interested in what the other man told him, but he said it all the same, partly by way of assent and partly because he could not help liking this man who sat there accusing himself like any criminal, though he had donenothing. Who hasn’t let somebody else down in one way or another?
    The man gripped his hand and held it tightly in his.
    —Do you think so? Do you think so? he repeated in a thick voice.
    At that moment a group of men walked past outside in the street. When they caught sight of the big red-haired man and saw who it was he sat talking to and holding by the hand, they started as though unable to believe their eyes. They hurried forward, and although approaching the shabbily dressed man in a curiously respectful way they burst out:
    —Don’t you know who that man is?
    —No, he answered truthfully, I don’t know. But he is a kind-hearted man and we have had a good talk together.
    —Don’t you know that it was in place of him that the Master was crucified?
    The big man released Barabbas’s hand and looked from one to the other, unable to conceal his dismay. The newcomers showed their feelings even more plainly, breathing violently in agitation.
    Barabbas had got to his feet and was standing with his back turned so that his face was no longer visible.
    —Get thee