soul, and his external aspect certainly bore little resemblance to that
of other men.

His feet, unused to walking, moved but clumsily, and had a heavy body
to carry, and his enormous beard and the mass of gray hair on his
head--which he turned now this way and now that--gave him an aspect that
might well scare even a bold man who should meet him unexpectedly. Two
stall-keepers who, by day, were accustomed to offer their wares for sale
near the Serapeum to the pilgrims, met him close to the city.

"Did you see that panting object?" said one to the other as they looked
after him. "If he were not shut up fast in his cell I could declare it
was Serapion, the recluse."

"Nonsense," replied the other. "He is tied faster by his oath than by
chains and fetters. It must be one of the Syrian beggars that besiege
the temple of Astarte."

"Perhaps," answered his companion with indifference. "Let us get on now,
my wife has a roast goose for supper this evening."

Serapion, it is true, was fast tied to his cell, and yet the pedler
had judged rightly, for he it was who hurried along the high-road
frightening all he met. After his long captivity walking was very
painful to him; besides, he was barefoot, and every stone in the
path hurt the soles of his feet which had grown soft; nevertheless he
contrived to make a by no means contemptible pace when in the distance
he caught sight of a woman's figure which he could fancy to be Klea.
Many a man, who in his own particular sphere of life can cut a very
respectable figure, becomes a laughing-stock for children when he is
taken out of his own narrow circle, and thrown into the turmoil of
the world with all his peculiarities clinging to him. So it was with
Serapion; in the suburbs the street-boys ran after him mocking at him,
but it was not till three smart hussys, who were resting from their
dance in front of a tavern, laughed loudly as they caught sight of him,
and an insolent soldier drove the point of his lance through his flowing
mane, as if by accident, that he became fully conscious of his wild
appearance, and it struck him forcibly that he could never in this guise
find admission to the king's palace.

With prompt determination he turned into the first barber's stall that
he saw lighted up; at his appearance the barber hastily retreated behind
his counter, but he got his hair and beard cut, and then, for the first
time for many years, he saw his own face in the mirror that the