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Matthias and Joseph Barnabas, equally good men, equally worthy — though who of any among us can be called worthy?' He bowed his head as though to wait for a cock to crow, but they were far from any fowl-run. 'We may add only one to the inner brotherhood. Chance, they sometimes say, is one of the toys of God. Toys are for children, but the master told us we had to become like children. Chance shall choose for us then. We have dice.' He showed them. 'I think you all know where they come from. A certain Roman soldier diced for a certain garment and regretted what he did. Joseph Barnabas, take the dice and roll.'
           Joseph Barnabas was a swart young man with a round trimmed beard. His eyes were large and liquid. He took the dice timorously and shook them in the cup of his right hand. He threw. All looked at the table surface. Three and two.
           'Matthias.'
           Matthias rolled in both hands, shaking their clasp in what looked like premature self-congratulation. He let fall rather than threw. Two and four.
           'There is almost nothing in it,' Peter said. 'Welcome, Matthias, to our midst.' Joseph Barnabas was goodhumoured in defeat. A matter of luck only. Matthias was taken to various bosoms and thumped on his back like a baby with wind. He was, they all noted, the first as well as the last of the well-dressed disciples: a gold chain round his neck and his beard not only trimmed but oiled, his single long garment embroidered at neck and hem with a Greek key pattern. Well, he would have to become ragged and unkempt as befitted one close to the Lord God. They could certainly use his money, solid clean money made out of land.
           'We will sit round the table,' Peter said. 'And if Little James will be so good as to go down to the cookshop and fetch up our dinner, not forgetting the wine, we can have the first feast of our new our new —’
           ‘Dispensation?' Bartholomew suggested.
           'I was going to say something like lonely responsibility,' Peter said. 'I'm not good at words, as you know, and we're all going to have to spout a lot of words. Look, Joseph Barnabas, there's no need to fidget as though you shouldn't be here. If one of us gets picked up by the Romans or the Sanhedrin and stoned and crucified it's you who'll take his place. How many of us are there now in Jerusalem? I'd say about two hundred —’
           'More like a hundred and fifty,' Matthew said.
           'Well, we're all brothers together, and there's nothing secret about what we're going to try to do. So in future there won't be many meetings of just the twelve. We'll need all the help we can get from the others, and that means you more than anybody, Joseph Barnabas. It's only a pair of dice that says you're not one of the twelve.'
           'Very good, sir.'
           'Don't call me sir. Peter's the name. Go and get the dinner, Little James. They said they'd have it ready.'
           James got up in his burly way and swung towards the door. A dry wind peered in as he opened it.
           'He's back in the world,' Peter sighed, 'but to us he leaves the burden of the word, so to speak. We're not well prepared to shout the glory of his rising from the grave and the truth of his message. I dreamt last night I was back on the lake working at the nets. It was fine to be — well, what you might call ignorant and peaceful again, not to have any responsibility. But I have to accept the burden as you do too. The trouble is that we don't know well how to carry it.'
           The door opened and Jesus came in carrying a jug of wine and a bread basket. James followed with cold broiled fish and cups and platters on a square tray. He kicked the door shut and the wind out. They all stood clumsily. Those who sat by the wall had difficulty getting up at all. Jesus waited till they were all standing and then said: 'Sit. Thirteen of you? Of course, I understand. You're Matthias.