iend and
adviser, Croesus, threatening him in the very same words of warning,
which he had used when Bartja had been sentenced to death by his command
on account of Nitetis: "Beware of shedding a brother's blood; the smoke
thereof will rise to heaven and become a cloud, that must darken the days
of the murderer, and at last cast down the lightnings of heaven upon his
head."

And in his delirious fancy this figure of speech became a reality. A rain
of blood streamed down upon him from dark clouds; his clothes and hands
were wet with the loathsome moisture. He went down to the Nile to cleanse
himself, and suddenly saw Nitetis coming towards him. She had the same
sweet smile with which Theodorus had modelled her. Enchanted with this
lovely vision, he fell down before her and took her hand, but he had
scarcely touched it, when drops of blood appeared at the tips of her
delicate fingers, and she turned away from him with every sign of horror.
He humbly implored her to forgive him and come back; she remained
inexorable. He grew angry, and threatened her, first with his wrath, and
then with awful punishments. At last, as she only answered his threats by
a low scornful laugh, he ventured to throw his dagger at her. She
crumbled at once into a thousand pieces, like the wax statue. But the
derisive laughter echoed on, and became louder. Many voices joined in it,
each trying to outbid the other. And the voices of Bartja and Nitetis
were the loudest,--their tone the most bitter. At last he could bear
these fearful sounds no longer and stopped his ears; this was of no use,
and he buried his head, first in the glowing desert-sand and then in the
icy cold Nile-water, until his senses forsook him. On awaking, the actual
state of things seemed incomprehensible to him. He had gone to bed in the
evening, and yet he now saw, by the direction of the sun's rays which
fell on his bed, that, instead of dawning as he had expected, the day was
growing dark. There could be no mistake; he heard the chorus of priests
singing farewell to the setting Mithras.

Then he heard a number of people moving behind a curtain, which had been
hung up at the head of his bed. He tried to turn in his bed, but could
not; he was too weak. At last, finding it impossible to discover whether
he was in real life or still in a dream, he called for his dressers and
the courtiers, who were accustomed to be present when he rose. They
appeared in a moment, and with them his