travellers on its way to Memphis, and each and all, horrified by its
uncanny aspect, had taken to flight or tried to hide themselves--and yet
it was no more than a man with warm pulses, an honest purpose, and a true
and loving heart. But those who met him could not see into his soul, and
his external aspect certainly bore little resemblance to that of other
men.

His feet, unused to walking, moved but clumsily, and had a heavy body to
carry, and his enormous beard and the mass of gray hair on his head--
which he turned now this way and now that--gave him an aspect that might
well scare even a bold man who should meet him unexpectedly. Two stall-
keepers who, by day, were accustomed to offer their wares for sale near
the Serapeum to the pilgrims, met him close to the city.

"Did you see that panting object?" said one to the other as they looked
after him. "If he were not shut up fast in his cell I could declare it
was Serapion, the recluse."

"Nonsense," replied the other. "He is tied faster by his oath than by
chains and fetters. It must be one of the Syrian beggars that besiege
the temple of Astarte."

"Perhaps," answered his companion with indifference. "Let us get on now,
my wife has a roast goose for supper this evening."

Serapion, it is true, was fast tied to his cell, and yet the pedler had
judged rightly, for he it was who hurried along the high-road frightening
all he met. After his long captivity walking was very painful to him;
besides, he was barefoot, and every stone in the path hurt the soles of
his feet which had grown soft; nevertheless he contrived to make a by no