the next step to be taken by the Romans--for the final crash of the
universe, perhaps.

The doors of the temple were thrown wide open; the temple-servants and
hundreds of soldiers were busied in clearing the steps and approaches of
the stones and fragments of statuary with which the heathen had
encumbered them. As soon as this task was finished the dead and wounded
were removed; among those who still breathed was Orpheus, the son of
Karnis. Those who had been so happy as to escape in the defence of the
sanctuary and had mingled with the crowd were besieged with questions,
and all agreed that the statue of the god was as yet inviolate.

The citizens were relieved, but ere long were startled by a new alarm; an
Ala of heavy cavalry came upon the scene, opening a way for an immensely
long procession whose chanted psalms rang out from afar, loud above the
cries and murmurs of the mob, the clatter of harness, and stamping of
horses. It was clear now where the monks had been. They were not
usually absent when there was a skirmish with the heathen; but, till this
moment, they had been seen only in twos or threes about the Serapeum.
Now they came forward shouting a psalm of triumph, their eyes glaring,
wilder and more ruthless than ever.

The Bishop marched at their head, in his vestments, under a magnificent
canopy; his lofty stature was drawn to its full height and his lips were
firmly closed.

He looked like a stern judge about to mount the tribunal to pronounce
sentence with inexorable severity on some execrable crime.

The crowd quailed.