gazed up at the sacred hill.

What was that? On the topmost peak of Sinai whence the Pharanite
sentinels were accustomed to watch the distance, a handkerchief was
waving as a signal that the enemy were approaching.

He could not be mistaken, and as in the face of approaching danger he
collected himself and recovered his powers of thought and deliberation,
his ear distinctly caught the mighty floods of stirring sound that came
over the mountain, from the brazen cymbals struck by the watchmen to warn
the inhabitants of the oasis, and the anchorites.

Was Hermas returned? Had the Blemmyes outstripped him? From what
quarter were the marauding hosts coming on? Could he venture to remain
here near his victim, or was it his duty to use his powerful arms in
defence of his helpless companions? In agonized doubt he looked down at
the youth's pallid features, and deep, sorrowful compassion filled his
mind.

How promising was this young tree of humanity that his rough fist had
broken off! and these brown curls had only yesterday been stroked by a
mother's hand. His eyes filled with tears, and he bent as tenderly as a
father might over the pale face, and pressed a gentle kiss on the
bloodless lips of the senseless youth. A thrill of joy shot through him,
for Polykarp's lips were indeed not cold, he moved his hand, and now--the
Lord be praised! he actually opened his eyes.

"And I am not a murderer!" A thousand voices seem to sing with joy in
his heart, and then he thought to himself, "First I will carry him down
to his parents in the oasis, and then go up to the brethren."