“It did. When Jesus was arrested in the garden, Peter and I were also seized but we were released after being beaten with clubs and kicked until we could barely walk. I wanted to flee over the mount to Bethany but Peter would have none of that. He said that we could not desert our Lord in his time of need, so we followed the arrest party until they finally arrived at the home of the high priest, after first going to the home of his father-in-law. We waited in the courtyard, hoping to learn what they were planning to do with Jesus and wondering why members of our high court, the Sanhedrin, were arriving in the middle of the night. Three times, when we drew near the fires, those in the employ of Caiaphas accused Peter of knowing Jesus and having been with him, and three times he denied it. His third denial had no more than issued from his lips when both of us heard the first cock of the day. Peter moaned as if he had been impaled by a sword and fell at my feet. At first I thought God had struck him dead for his denials, but when I saw his chest rising and falling I tried to lift him to his feet and remove him from the courtyard for fear we might be seized by the guard again. I tried and tried to move him but I could not, so I ran to the house of Joseph. With the help of his giant friend and servant we managed to bring Peter here and lay him in Mark’s bed, which is the only other room on this floor. By then I was exhausted, but after the widow Mary and the other women, including our Lord’s mother, had been told that Jesus was under arrest, none of them were in any condition to tend to Peter so I did so myself.”

“What happened next?”

“By dawn the women had recovered enough to bring me food. Peter was still in a faint, his skin as hot as fire to our touch. Again and again I wiped his body with water and aloe juice, also splashing much of it on my own face in order to remain awake. Then, later in the day, perhaps the seventh hour, I heard terrible screams and wailing from below and rushed down the stairs to see what was wrong, almost colliding with the mother of our Lord, who was standing on the first step. She fell into my arms and I could feel her body trembling, until she took my face in her hands and said quietly, ‘I was coming for you. Word has just arrived that my son has been taken to Golgotha by the Romans to be crucified. I must be with him, John. Please take me to my boy. Mark and his mother will watch over Peter until we return.’ ”