and
then he fixed his dark and dilating eye on the priest, with such a gaze
of wrath and menace, that one, perhaps, less supported than Apaecides by
the fervent daring of a divine zeal, could not have faced with
unflinching look that lowering aspect. As it was, however, the young
convert met it unmoved, and returned it with an eye of proud defiance.

'Apaecides,' said the Egyptian, in a tremulous and inward tone, 'beware!
What is it thou wouldst meditate? Speakest thou--reflect, pause before
thou repliest--from the hasty influences of wrath, as yet divining no
settled purpose, or from some fixed design?'

'I speak from the inspiration of the True God, whose servant I now am,'
answered the Christian, boldly; 'and in the knowledge that by His grace
human courage has already fixed the date of thy hypocrisy and thy
demon's worship; ere thrice the sun has dawned, thou wilt know all!
Dark sorcerer, tremble, and farewell!'

All the fierce and lurid passions which he inherited from his nation and
his clime, at all times but ill concealed beneath the blandness of craft
and the coldness of philosophy, were released in the breast of the
Egyptian. Rapidly one thought chased another; he saw before him an
obstinate barrier to even a lawful alliance with Ione--the
fellow-champion of Glaucus in the struggle which had baffled his
designs--the reviler of his name--the threatened desecrator of the
goddess he served while he disbelieved--the avowed and approaching
revealer of his own impostures and vices. His love, his repute, nay,
his very life, might be in danger--the day and hour seemed even to have
been fixed for some design against him. He knew by the words of the
convert that Apaecides had adopted the Christian faith: he knew the
indomitable zeal which led on the proselytes of that creed. Such was
his enemy; he grasped his stilus--that enemy was in his power! They were
now before the chapel; one hasty glance once more he cast around; he saw
none near--silence and solitude alike tempted him.

'Die, then, in thy rashness!' he muttered; 'away, obstacle to my rushing
fates!'

And just as the young Christian had turned to depart, Arbaces raised his
hand high over the left shoulder of Apaecides, and plunged his sharp
weapon twice into his breast.

Apaecides fell to the ground pierced to the heart--he fell mute, without
even a groan, at the very base of the sacred chapel.

Arbaces gazed upon him for a moment with the fierce anim