ll evidence of
fear--all fear itself--was gone. A red and haughty flush spread over the
paleness of his features--he towered aloft to the fullness of his
glorious stature. In the elastic beauty of his limbs and form, in his
intent but unfrowning brow, in the high disdain, and in the indomitable
soul, which breathed visibly, which spoke audibly, from his attitude,
his lip, his eye, he assumed the very incarnation, vivid and corporeal,
of the valor of his land--of the divinity of its worship--at once a hero
and a god.

The murmur of hatred and horror at his crime, which had greeted his
entrance, died into the stillness of involuntary admiration and
half-compassionate respect; and with a quick and convulsive sigh, that
seemed to move the whole mass of life as if it were one body, the gaze
of the spectators turned from the Athenian to a dark uncouth object in
the center of the arena. It was the grated den of the lion. Kept
without food for twenty-four hours, the animal had, during the whole
morning, testified a singular and restless uneasiness, which the keeper
had attributed to the pangs of hunger. Yet its bearing seemed rather
that of fear than of rage; its roar was painful and distressed; it hung
its head--snuffed the air through the bars--then lay down--started
again--and again uttered its wild and far-reaching cries.

The editor's lip quivered, and his cheek grew pale; he looked anxiously
around--hesitated--delayed; the crowd became impatient. Slowly he gave
the sign; the keeper, who was behind the den, cautiously removed the
grating, and the lion leaped forth with a mighty and glad roar of
release. The keeper retreated hastily through the grated passage leading
from the arena, and left the lord of the forest--and his prey.

Glaucus had bent his limbs so as to give himself the firmest posture at
the expected rush of the lion, with his small and shining weapon raised
high, in the faint hope that one well directed thrust might penetrate
through the eye to the brain of his grim foe.

At the first moment of its release the lion halted in the arena, raised
itself half on end, snuffing the upward air with impatient sighs; then
suddenly sprang forward, but not on the Athenian. At half speed it
circled around and around the arena; once or twice it endeavored to leap
up the parapet that separated it from the audience. At length, as if
tired of attempting to escape, it crept with a moan into its cage, and
once more laid itse