'You say he seemed out of his head?' said Demetrius, anxiously.
'Yes - dazed - as if something had hit him. And out there in that archway, he had a sort of empty look in his face. Maybe he didn't even know where he was.'
Demetrius' steps slowed to a stop.
'Melas,' he said, hoarsely. 'I'm sorry - but I've got to go back to him.'
'Why - you -' The Thracian was at a loss for a strong enough epithet. 'I always thought you were soft! Afraid to run away from a fellow who strikes you in the face before a crowd of officers; just to show them how brave he is! Very well! You go back to him and be his slave forever! It will be tough! He has lost his mind!'
Demetrius had turned and was walking away.
'Good luck to you, Melas,' he called, soberly.
'Better get rid of that Robe!' shouted Melas, his voice shrill with anger. 'That's what drove your smart young Marcellus out of his mind! He began to go crazy the minute he put it on! Let him be. He is accursed! The Galilean has had his revenge!'
Demetrius stumbled on through the darkness, Melas' raging imprecations following him as far as the old gate.
'Accursed!' he yelled. 'Accursed!'
This favourite book of mine (The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas) I found in a forgotten library in a musty Swedish attic. Later I bought my own copy on an island in the Pacific. It is a story of the Roman officer who crucified Jesus and won his robe in a dice game, and of the slave who tries to make sense of all this.
I don't think I've ever gotten so caught up in a book written in the 40s before. And it happens every time I go back to it. The writing is too good to ever feel musty and it puts a surprising spin on the familiar Bible stories without changing them.
Although it does have a lot of commas and exclamation marks. I guess they liked them, back in 1942!
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