to repent but he could
not; for each time he recalled it, to blame and condemn himself, he
saw the soldier's hand twisted in Uarda's hair, and the princess's eyes
beaming with approbation, nay with admiration, and he said to himself
that he had acted rightly, and in the same position would do the same
again to-morrow. Still he felt that he had broken through all the
conditions with which fate had surrounded his existence, and it seemed
to him that he could never succeed in recovering the still, narrow, but
peaceful life of the past.

His soul went up in prayer to the Almighty One, and to the spirit of the
sweet humble woman whom he had called his mother, imploring for peace
of mind and modest content; but in vain--for the longer he remained
prostrate, flinging up his arms in passionate entreaty, the keener grew
his longings, the less he felt able to repent or to recognize his guilt.
Ameni's order to appear before him came almost as a deliverance, and
he followed the messenger prepared for a severe punishment; but not
afraid--almost joyful.

In obedience to the command of the grave high-priest, Pentaur related
the whole occurrence--how, as there was no leech in the house, he
had gone with the old wife of the paraschites to visit her possessed
husband; how, to save the unhappy girl from ill-usage by the mob, he had
raised his hand in fight, and dealt indeed some heavy blows.

"You have killed four men," said Ameni, "and severely wounded twice as
many. Why did you not reveal yourself as a priest, as the speaker of
the morning's discourse? Why did you not endeavor to persuade the people
with words of warning, rather than with brute force?"

"I had no priest's garment," replied Pentaur. "There again you did
wrong," said Ameni, "for you know that the law requires of each of
us never to leave this house without our white robes. But you cannot
pretend not to know your own powers of speech, nor to contradict me when
I assert that, even in the plainest working-dress, you were perfectly
able to produce as much effect with words as by deadly blows!" "I might
very likely have succeeded," answered Pentaur, "but the most savage
temper ruled the crowd; there was no time for reflection, and when I
struck down the villain, like some reptile, who had seized the innocent
girl, the lust of fighting took possession of me. I cared no more for my
own life, and to save the child I would have slain thousands."

"Your eyes sparkle," said Ame