e fewer were the spoils of idolatry that we gathered in; the
treasure which is yours, the treasure which is to free you from the
famine, has been seized by the assassin of our holy brother; it is
there scattered at his feet! To the gates! To the gates again!
Absolution for all their sins to the men who burst in the gates!'

Again the mass of timber was taken up; again the gates were assailed;
and again they stood firm--they were now strengthened, barricaded by
the fallen pile. It seemed hopeless to attempt to break them down
without a reinforcement of men, without employing against them the
heaviest missiles, the strongest engines of war.

The people gave vent to a cry of fury as they heard from the temple the
hollow laughter of the madman triumphing in their defeat. The words of
the priest, in allaying their superstitious fears, had aroused the
deadly passions that superstition brings forth. A few among the throng
hurried to the nearest guard-house for assistance, but the greater part
pressed closely round the temple--some pouring forth impotent
execrations against the robber of the public spoil, some joining the
priests in calling on him to yield. But the clamour lasted not long;
it was suddenly and strangely stilled by the voice of one man in the
crowd, calling loudly to the rest to fire the temple!

The words were hardly spoken ere they were repeated triumphantly on all
sides. 'Fire the temple!' cried the people ferociously. 'Burn it over
the robber's head! A furnace--a furnace! to melt down the gold and
silver ready to our hands! Fire the temple! Fire the temple!'

Those who were most active among the crowd (which was now greatly
increased by stragglers from all parts of the city) entered the houses
behind them, and returned in a few minutes with every inflammable
substance that they could collect in their hands. A heap of fuel, two
or three feet in height, was raised against the gates immediately, and
soldiers and people pressed forward with torches to light it. But the
priest who had before spoken waved them back. 'Wait!' he cried; 'the
fate of his body is with the people, but the fate of his soul is with
the Church!'

Then, turning to the temple, he called solemnly and sternly to the
madman, 'Thy hour is come! repent, confess, and save thy soul!'

'Slay on! slay on!' answered the raving voice from within. 'Slay, till
not a Christian is left! Victory! Serapis! See, they drop from our
wal