Apaecides fell to the ground pierced to the heart--he fell mute, without even a groan, at the very base of the sacred chapel.

Arbaces gazed upon him for a moment with the fierce animal joy of conquest over a foe. But presently the full sense of the danger to which he was exposed flashed upon him; he wiped his weapon carefully in the long gra.s.s, and with the very garments of his victim; drew his cloak round him, and was about to depart, when he saw, coming up the path, right before him, the figure of a young man, whose steps reeled and vacillated strangely as he advanced: the quiet moonlight streamed full upon his face, which seemed, by the whitening ray, colorless as marble.

The Egyptian recognized the face and form of Glaucus. The unfortunate and benighted Greek was chanting a disconnected and mad song, composed from s.n.a.t.c.hes of hymns and sacred odes, all jarringly woven together.

'Ha!' thought the Egyptian, instantaneously divining his state and its terrible cause; 'so, then, the h.e.l.l-draught works, and destiny hath sent thee hither to crush two of my foes at once!'

Quickly, even ere this thought occurred to him, he had withdrawn on one side of the chapel, and concealed himself amongst the boughs; from that lurking place he watched, as a tiger in his lair, the advance of his second victim. He noted the wandering and restless fire in the bright and beautiful eyes of the Athenian; the convulsions that distorted his statue-like features, and writhed his hueless lip. He saw that the Greek was utterly deprived of reason. Nevertheless, as Glaucus came up to the dead body of Apaecides, from which the dark red stream flowed slowly over the gra.s.s, so strange and ghastly a spectacle could not fail to arrest him, benighted and erring as was his glimmering sense. He paused, placed his hand to his brow, as if to collect himself, and then saying:

'What ho! Endymion, sleepest thou so soundly? What has the moon said to thee? Thou makest me jealous; it is time to wake'--he stooped down with the intention of lifting up the body.

Forgetting--feeling not--his own debility, the Egyptian sprung from his hiding-place, and, as the Greek bent, struck him forcibly to the ground, over the very body of the Christian; then, raising his powerful voice to its highest pitch, he shouted:

'Ho, citizens--oh! help me!--run hither--hither!--A murder--a murder before your very fane! Help, or the murderer escapes!' As he spoke, he placed his foot on the breast of Glaucus: an idle and superfluous precaution; for the potion operating with the fall, the Greek lay there motionless and insensible, save that now and then his lips gave vent to some vague and raving sounds.

As he there stood awaiting the coming of those his voice still continued to summons, perhaps some remorse, some compunctious visitings--for despite his crimes he was human--haunted the breast of the Egyptian; the defenceless state of Glaucus--his wandering words--his shattered reason, smote him even more than the death of Apaecides, and he said, half audibly, to himself:

'Poor clay!--poor human reason; where is the soul now? I could spare thee, O my rival--rival never more! But destiny must be obeyed--my safety demands thy sacrifice.' With that, as if to drown compunction, he shouted yet more loudly; and drawing from the girdle of Glaucus the stilus it contained, he steeped it in the blood of the murdered man, and laid it beside the corpse.

And now, fast and breathless, several of the citizens came thronging to the place, some with torches, which the moon rendered unnecessary, but which flared red and tremulously against the darkness of the trees; they surrounded the spot. 'Lift up yon corpse,' said the Egyptian, 'and guard well the murderer.'

They raised the body, and great was their horror and sacred indignation to discover in that lifeless clay a priest of the adored and venerable Isis; but still greater, perhaps, was their surprise, when they found the accused in the brilliant and admired Athenian.

'Glaucus!' cried the bystanders, with one accord; 'is it even credible?'

'I would sooner,' whispered one man to his neighbor, 'believe it to be the Egyptian himself.'

Here a centurion thrust himself into the gathering crowd, with an air of authority.

'How! blood spilt! who the murderer?'

The bystanders pointed to Glaucus.

'He!--by Mars, he has rather the air of being the victim!

'Who accuses him?'

'I,' said Arbaces, drawing himself up haughtily; and the jewels which adorned his dress flashing in the eyes of the soldier, instantly convinced that worthy warrior of the witness's respectability.

'Pardon me--your name?' said he.

'Arbaces; it is well known methinks in Pompeii. Pa.s.sing through the grove, I beheld before me the Greek and the priest in earnest conversation. I was struck by the reeling motions of the first, his violent gestures, and the loudness of his voice; he seemed to me either drunk or mad. Suddenly I saw him raise his stilus--I darted forward--too late to arrest the blow. He had twice stabbed his victim, and was bending over him, when, in my horror and indignation, I struck the murderer to the ground. He fell without a struggle, which makes me yet more suspect that he was not altogether in his senses when the crime was perpetrated; for, recently recovered from a severe illness, my blow was comparatively feeble, and the frame of Glaucus, as you see, is strong and youthful.'

'His eyes are open now--his lips move,' said the soldier. 'Speak, prisoner, what sayest thou to the charge?'

'The charge--ha--ha! Why, it was merrily done; when the old hag set her serpent at me, and Hecate stood by laughing from ear to ear--what could I do? But I am ill--I faint--the serpent's fiery tongue hath bitten me.

Bear me to bed, and send for your physician; old AEsculapius himself will attend me if you let him know that I am Greek. Oh, mercy--mercy!

I burn!--marrow and brain, I burn!'

And, with a thrilling and fierce groan, the Athenian fell back in the arms of the bystanders.

'He raves,' said the officer, compa.s.sionately; 'and in his delirium he has struck the priest. Hath any one present seen him to-day!'

'I,' said one of the spectators, 'beheld him in the morning. He pa.s.sed my shop and accosted me. He seemed well and sane as the stoutest of us!'

'And I saw him half an hour ago,' said another, 'pa.s.sing up the streets, muttering to himself with strange gestures, and just as the Egyptian has described.'

'A corroboration of the witness! it must be too true. He must at all events to the praetor; a pity, so young and so rich! But the crime is dreadful: a priest of Isis, in his very robes, too, and at the base itself of our most ancient chapel!'

At these words the crowd were reminded more forcibly, than in their excitement and curiosity they had yet been, of the heinousness of the sacrilege. They shuddered in pious horror.

'No wonder the earth has quaked,' said one, 'when it held such a monster!'

'Away with him to prison--away!' cried they all.

And one solitary voice was heard shrilly and joyously above the rest: 'The beasts will not want a gladiator now, Ho, ho, for the merry, merry show!

It was the voice of the young woman whose conversation with Medon has been repeated.

'True--true--it chances in season for the games!' cried several; and at that thought all pity for the accused seemed vanished. His youth, his beauty, but fitted him better for the purpose of the arena.

'Bring hither some planks--or if at hand, a litter--to bear the dead,'

said Arbaces: 'a priest of Isis ought scarcely to be carried to his temple by vulgar hands, like a butchered gladiator.'

At this the bystanders reverently laid the corpse of Apaecides on the ground, with the face upwards; and some of them went in search of some contrivance to bear the body, untouched by the profane.

It was just at that time that the crowd gave way to right and left as a st.u.r.dy form forced itself through, and Olinthus the Christian stood immediately confronting the Egyptian. But his eyes, at first, only rested with inexpressible grief and horror on that gory side and upturned face, on which the agony of violent death yet lingered.

'Murdered!' he said. 'Is it thy zeal that has brought thee to this?

Have they detected thy n.o.ble purpose, and by death prevented their own shame?'

He turned his head abruptly, and his eyes fell full on the solemn features of the Egyptian.

As he looked, you might see in his face, and even the slight shiver of his frame, the repugnance and aversion which the Christian felt for one whom he knew to be so dangerous and so criminal. It was indeed the gaze of the bird upon the basilisk--so silent was it and so prolonged. But shaking off the sudden chill that had crept over him, Olinthus extended his right arm towards Arbaces, and said, in a deep and loud voice:

'Murder hath been done upon this corpse! Where is the murderer? Stand forth, Egyptian! For, as the Lord liveth, I believe thou art the man!'

An anxious and perturbed change might for one moment be detected on the dusky features of Arbaces; but it gave way to the frowning expression of indignation and scorn, as, awed and arrested by the suddenness and vehemence of the charge, the spectators pressed nearer and nearer upon the two more prominent actors.

'I know,' said Arbaces, proudly, 'who is my accuser, and I guess wherefore he thus arraigns me. Men and citizens, know this man for the most bitter of the Nazarenes, if that or Christians be their proper name! What marvel that in his malignity he dares accuse even an Egyptian of the murder of a priest of Egypt!'

'I know him! I know the dog!' shouted several voices. 'It is Olinthus the Christian--or rather the Atheist--he denies the G.o.ds!'

'Peace, brethren,' said Olinthus, with dignity, 'and hear me! This murdered priest of Isis before his death embraced the Christian faith--he revealed to me the dark sins, the sorceries of yon Egyptian--the mummeries and delusions of the fane of Isis. He was about to declare them publicly. He, a stranger, unoffending, without enemies!

who should shed his blood but one of those who feared his witness? Who might fear that testimony the most?--Arbaces, the Egyptian!'

'You hear him!' said Arbaces; 'you hear him! he blasphemes! Ask him if he believes in Isis!'

'Do I believe in an evil demon?' returned Olinthus, boldly.