orgotten his generalship. Reckless as that night's
events proved him to be about arousing the passions of his subjects, he
was yet far too wary to risk the odium and the danger of a night attack,
which, even if successful, would have cost the lives of hundreds. He
knew well enough the numbers and the courage of the enemy, and the
certainty that, in case of a collision, no quarter would be given or
accepted on either side.... Beside, if a battle must take place--and
that, of course, must happen sooner or later--it must not happen in his
presence and under his sanction. He was in the right now, and Orestes in
the wrong; and in the right he would keep--at least till his express
to Byzantium should have returned, and Orestes was either proscribed
or superseded. So looking forward to some such chance as this, the wary
prelate had schooled his aides-de-camp, the deacons of the city, and
went on his way up the steps of the Caesareum, knowing that they could
be trusted to keep the peace outside.

And they did their work well. Before a blow had been struck, or even an
insult passed on either side, they had burst through the front rank
of the mob, and by stout threats of excommunication, enjoined not only
peace, but absolute silence until the sacred ceremony which was about to
take place should be completed; and enforced their commands by marching
up and down like sentries between the hostile ranks for the next
weary two hours, till the very soldiers broke out into expressions of
admiration, and the tribune of the cohort, who ad no great objection,
but also no great wish, fight, paid them a high-flown compliment on
their laudable endeavours to maintain public order, and received the
somewhat ambiguous reply, that the 'weapons of their warfare were not
carnal, that they wrestled not against flesh and blood, but against
principalities and powers,'.... an answer which the tribune, being now
somewhat sleepy, thought it best to leave unexplained.

In the meanwhile, there had passed up the steps of the Temple a gorgeous
line of priests, among whom glittered, more gorgeous than all, the
stately figure of the pontiff. They were followed close by thousands of
monks, not only from Alexandria and Nitria, but from all the adjoining
towns and monasteries. And as Philammon, unable for some half hour more
to force his way into the church, watched their endless stream, he could
well believe the boast which he had so often heard in Alexandria, th