forgotten them? Still I followed, rent by seismic shocks of terror. I
had not forgotten the weapon: could I creep near enough, I felt that I
might plunge it into the marrow of his back. He opened the iron door of
the first vault and passed in. If I could lock him in?--but he held the
key. On and on he wound his way, holding the lantern near the ground,
his head bent down. The thought came to me _then_, that, had I but the
courage, one swift sweep, and all were over. I crept closer, closer.
Suddenly he turned round, and made a quick step in my direction. I saw
his eyes, the murderous grin of his jaw. I know not if he saw
me--thought forsook me. The weapon fell with clatter and clangor from
my grasp, and in panic fright I fled with extended arms and the
headlong swiftness of a stripling, through the black labyrinths of the
caverns, through the vacant corridors of the house, till I reached my
chamber, the door of which I had time to fasten on myself before I
dropped, gasping, panting for very life, on the floor.

'_July 11_.--I had not the courage to see Ul-Jabal to-day. I have
remained locked in my chamber all the time without food or water. My
tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth.

'_July 12_.--I took heart and crept downstairs. I met him in the study.
He smiled on me, and I on him, as if nothing had happened between us.
Oh, our old friendship, how it has turned into bitterest hate! I had
taken the false stone from the Edmundsbury chalice and put it in the
pocket of my brown gown, with the bold intention of showing it to him,
and asking him if he knew aught of it. But when I faced him, my courage
failed again. We drank together and ate together as in the old days of
love.

'July l3.--I cannot think that I have not again imbibed some