ody of the sufferer who, thus called upon, moved and muttered a few
unintelligible words; in a low tone, but still much too clearly for
Paulus, for he now knew for certain that he had guessed rightly. With a
loud cry of horror he grasped the youth's powerless form, raised him in
his arms, and carried him like a child to the margin of the spring where
he laid his noble burden down in the moist grass; Polykarp started and
opened his eyes.

Morning was already dawning, the light clouds on the eastern horizon
were already edged with rosy fringes, and the coming day began to lift
the dark veil from the forms and hues of creation.

The young man recognized the anchorite, who with trembling hands was
washing the wound at the back of his head, and his eye assumed an
angry glare as he called up all his remaining strength and pushed his
attendant from him. Paulus did not withdraw, he accepted the blow from
his victim as a gift or a greeting, thinking, "Aye, and I only wish you
had a dagger in your hand; I would not resist you."

The artist's wound was frightfully wide and deep, but the blood had
flowed among his thick curls, and had clotted over the lacerated veins
like a thick dressing. The water with which Paulus now washed his head
reopened them, and renewed the bleeding, and after the one powerful
effort with which Polykarp pushed away his enemy, he fell back senseless
in his arms The wan morning-light added to the pallor of the bloodless
countenance that lay with glazed eyes in the anchorite's lap.

"He is dying!" murmured Paulus in deadly anguish and with choking
breath, while he looked across the valley and up to the heights, seeking
help. The mountain rose in front of him, its majestic mass glowing in
the rosy dawn, while light translucent vapor floated round the peak
where the Lord had written His laws for His chosen people, and for all
peoples, on tables of stone; it seemed to Paulus that he saw the giant
form of Moses far, far up on its sublimest height and that from his lips
in brazen tones the strictest of all the commandments was thundered down
upon him with awful wrath, "Thou shalt not kill!"

Paulus clasped his hands before his face in silent despair, while his
victim still lay in his lap. He had closed his eyes, for he dared not
look on the youth's pale countenance, and still less dared he look up
at the mountain; but the brazen voice from the height did not cease, and
sounded louder and louder; half beside h