above the
cries and murmurs of the mob, the clatter of harness, and stamping of
horses. It was clear now where the monks had been. They were not usually
absent when there was a skirmish with the heathen; but, till this moment,
they had been seen only in twos or threes about the Serapeum. Now they
came forward shouting a psalm of triumph, their eyes glaring, wilder and
more ruthless than ever.

The Bishop marched at their head, in his vestments, under a magnificent
canopy; his lofty stature was drawn to its full height and his lips were
firmly closed.

He looked like a stern judge about to mount the tribunal to pronounce
sentence with inexorable severity on some execrable crime.

The crowd quailed.

The Bishop and the monks in the Serapeum, meant the overthrow of the
statue of the sovereign god--death and destruction. The boldest turned
pale; many who had left wife and children at home stole away to await the
end of the world with those they loved; others remained to watch the
menaced sanctuary, cursing or praying; but the greater number, men and
women alike, crowded into the temple, risking their lives to be present
at the stupendous events about to be enacted there and which promised to
be a drama of unequalled interest.

At the bottom of the ascent the Comes rode forth to meet the Bishop,
leaped from his saddle and greeted him with reverence. The Imperial
legate had not made his appearance; he had preferred to remain for the
present at the prefect's house, intending to preside, later in the day,
at the races as the Emperor's representative, side by side with the
Prefect Evagrius--who also kept aloof during the attack on the Serapeum.
After a brief colloquy, Romanus signed to Constantine, the captain of the
cavalry; the troop dismounted, and, led by their officer, marched up the
slope that led to the great gate of the Serapeum. They were followed by
the Comes with his staff; next to him pale and somewhat tremulous came
some of the city officials and a few Christian members of the senate; and
then the Bishop--who had preferred to come last--with all the Christian
priesthood and a crowd of chanting monks. The train was closed by a
division of heavy-armed infantry; and after them the populace rushed in,
unchecked by the soldiers who stood outside the temple.

The great halls of the Serapeum had been put in order as well as possible
in so short a time. Of all those who, the day before, had crowded in to
defend the