k the words which
I have to speak. Above all, I must let no Christian say, that the
philosopher dared less than the fanatic. If my Gods are Gods, then will
they protect me: and if not, let your God prove His rule as seems to Him
good.'

Raphael tore the letter to fragments.... The guards, at least, were not
gone mad like the rest of the world. It wanted half an hour of the time
of her lecture. In the interval he might summon force enough to crush
all Alexandria. And turning suddenly, he darted out of the room and out
of the house.

'Quem Deus vult perdere-!' cried he to Philammon, with a gesture of
grief. 'Stay here and stop her!--make a last appeal! Drag the horses'
heads down, if you can! I will be back in ten minutes.' And he ran off
for the nearest gate of the Museum gardens.

On the other side of the gardens lay the courtyard of the palace. There
were gates in plenty communicating between them. If he could but see
Orestes, even alarm the guard in time!....

And he hurried through the walks and alcoves, now deserted by the
fearful citizens, to the nearest gate. It was fast, and barricaded
firmly on the outside.

Terrified, he ran on to the next; it was barred also. He saw the reason
in a moment, and maddened as he saw it. The guards, careless about the
Museum, or reasonably fearing no danger from the Alexandrian populace to
the glory and wonder of their city, or perhaps wishing wisely enough
to concentrate their forces in the narrowest space, had contented
themselves with cutting off all communication with the gardens, and so
converting the lofty partition-wall into the outer enceinte of their
marble citadel. At all events, the doors leading from the Museum itself
might be open. He knew them every one, every hall, passage, statue,
picture, almost every book in that vast treasure-house of ancient
civilisation. He found an entrance; hurried through well-known corridors
to a postern through which he and Orestes had lounged a hundred times,
their lips full of bad words, their hearts of worse thoughts, gathered
in those records of the fair wickedness of old.... It was fast. He beat
upon it but no one answered. He rushed on and tried another. No one
answered there. Another--still silence and despair!.... He rushed
upstairs, hoping that from the windows above he might be able to call to
the guard. The prudent soldiers had locked and barricaded the entrances
to the upper floors of the whole right wing, lest the palace