the cavern's mouth. He stopped an
instant, adjusted an arrow to the string, knelt down behind a mass of
rock, took deliberate aim--and then the arrow hissed across the stage,
and was lost in the depths of the cavern, into which the panther
had retired, after showing for a moment her threatening head to the
audience. Hardly had the arrow disappeared, than Death, purposely
irritated by Goliath (who was invisible) sent forth a howl of rage, as
if she had been really wounded. Morok's actions became so expressive,
he evinced so naturally his joy at having hit the wild beast, that
a tempest of applause burst from every quarter of the house. Then,
throwing away his bow, he drew a dagger from his girdle, took it between
his teeth, and began to crawl forward on hands and knees, as though he
meant to surprise the wounded panther in his den. To render the illusion
perfect, Death, again excited by Goliath, who struck him with an iron
bar, sent forth frightful howlings from the depths of the cavern.

The gloomy aspect of the forest, only half-lighted with a reddish glare,
was so effective--the howlings of the panther were so furious--the
gestures, attitude, and countenance of Morok were so expressive of
terror, that the audience, attentive and trembling, now maintained a
profound silence. Every one held his breath, and a kind of shudder came
over the spectators, as though they expected some horrible event. What
gave such a fearful air of truth to the pantomime of Morok, was that,
as he approached the cavern step by step, he approached also the
Englishman's box. In spite of himself, the lion-tamer, fascinated by
terror, could not take his eyes from the large green eyes of this man,
and it seemed as if every one of the abrupt movements which he made in
crawling along, was produced by a species of magnetic attraction, caused
by the fixed gaze of the fatal wagerer. Therefore, the nearer Morok
approached, the more ghastly and livid he became. At sight of this
pantomime, which was no longer acting, but the real expression of
intense fear, the deep and trembling silence which had reigned in the
theatre was once more interrupted by acclamations, with which were
mingled the roarings of the panther, and the distant growls of the lion
and tiger.

The Englishman leaned almost out of his box, with a frightful sardonic
smile on his lip, and with his large eyes still fixed, panted for
breath. The perspiration ran down his bald red forehead, as if