al joy of
conquest over a foe. But presently the full sense of the danger to
which he was exposed flashed upon him; he wiped his weapon carefully in
the long grass, and with the very garments of his victim; drew his cloak
round him, and was about to depart, when he saw, coming up the path,
right before him, the figure of a young man, whose steps reeled and
vacillated strangely as he advanced: the quiet moonlight streamed full
upon his face, which seemed, by the whitening ray, colorless as marble.
The Egyptian recognized the face and form of Glaucus. The unfortunate
and benighted Greek was chanting a disconnected and mad song, composed
from snatches of hymns and sacred odes, all jarringly woven together.

'Ha!' thought the Egyptian, instantaneously divining his state and its
terrible cause; 'so, then, the hell-draught works, and destiny hath sent
thee hither to crush two of my foes at once!'

Quickly, even ere this thought occurred to him, he had withdrawn on one
side of the chapel, and concealed himself amongst the boughs; from that
lurking place he watched, as a tiger in his lair, the advance of his
second victim. He noted the wandering and restless fire in the bright
and beautiful eyes of the Athenian; the convulsions that distorted his
statue-like features, and writhed his hueless lip. He saw that the
Greek was utterly deprived of reason. Nevertheless, as Glaucus came up
to the dead body of Apaecides, from which the dark red stream flowed
slowly over the grass, so strange and ghastly a spectacle could not fail
to arrest him, benighted and erring as was his glimmering sense. He
paused, placed his hand to his brow, as if to collect himself, and then
saying:

'What ho! Endymion, sleepest thou so soundly? What has the moon said to
thee? Thou makest me jealous; it is time to wake'--he stooped down with
the intention of lifting up the body.

Forgetting--feeling not--his own debility, the Egyptian sprung from his
hiding-place, and, as the Greek bent, struck him forcibly to the ground,
over the very body of the Christian; then, raising his powerful voice to
its highest pitch, he shouted:

'Ho, citizens--oh! help me!--run hither--hither!--A murder--a murder
before your very fane! Help, or the murderer escapes!' As he spoke, he
placed his foot on the breast of Glaucus: an idle and superfluous
precaution; for the potion operating with the fall, the Greek lay there
motionless and insensible, save that now and then h