, in spite of himself.

"All the women you ever have met, from the daughter of the cross-roads
singing beneath her lantern to the fair patrician scattering leaves from
the top of her litter, all the forms you have caught a glimpse of, all
the imaginings of your desire, ask for them! I am not a woman--I am a
world. My garments have but to fall, and you shall discover upon my
person a succession of mysteries."

Antony's teeth chattered.

"If you placed your finger on my shoulder, it would be like a stream of
fire in your veins. The possession of the least part of my body will
fill you with a joy more vehement than the conquest of an empire. Bring
your lips near! My kisses have the taste of fruit which would melt in
your heart. Ah! how you will lose yourself in my tresses, caress my
breasts, marvel at my limbs, and be scorched by my eyes, between my
arms, in a whirlwind----"

Antony makes the sign of the Cross.

"So, then, you disdain me! Farewell!"

She turns away weeping; then she returns.

"Are you quite sure? So lovely a woman?"

She laughs, and the ape who holds the end of her robe lifts it up.

"You will repent, my fine hermit! you will groan; you will be sick of
life! but I will mock at you! la! la! la! oh! oh! oh!"

She goes off with her hands on her waist, skipping on one foot.

The slaves file off before Saint Antony's face, together with the
horses, the dromedaries, the elephant, the attendants, the mules, once
more covered with their loads, the negro boys, the ape, and the
green-clad couriers holding their broken lilies in their hands--and the
Queen of Sheba departs, with a spasmodic utterance which might be either
a sob or a chuckle.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER III.

THE DISCIPLE, HILARION.

When she has disappeared, Antony perceives a child on the threshold of
his cell.

"It is one of the Queen's servants," he thinks.

This child is small, like a dwarf, and yet thickset, like one of the
Cabiri, distorted, and with a miserable aspect. White hair covers his
prodigiously large head, and he shivers under a sorry tunic, while he
grasps in his hand a roll of papyrus. The light of the moon, across
which a cloud is passing, falls upon him.

Antony observes him from a distance, and is afraid of him.

"Who are you?"

The child replies:

"Your former disciple, Hilarion."

_Antony_--"You lie! Hilarion has been living for many years in
Palestine."

_Hilarion_--"I have returned from