angry fists; the Christians thrilled with anxiety and pious zeal, and
used their hands to lift the cross or to ward off the evil one with
outstretched fingers. Every face and every gesture, the muttered curses
and pious hymns--all showed that some terrible and fateful event was
impending over all. Gorgo herself felt as though she were standing on
the brink of a crater, while air and earth heaved around her; she felt
and saw the eruption of the volcano threatening, every instant, to burst
at her feet, and to choke and ruin every living thing.

The uproar among the heathen grew louder and louder; fragments of stone
and wood came flying towards the spot where the Bishop and officials were
standing; but, suddenly, the tumult ceased, and, as if by a miracle,
there was silence--perfect silence--in the temple. It was as though at a
sign from the Omnipotent Ruler the storm-lashed ocean had turned to the
calm of a land-locked lake. At a nod from the Bishop some acolytes had
stepped up to the niche where the statue of the god was shrouded and the
curtain, which till now had hidden it, slowly began to fall.

There sat Serapis, looking down in majestic indifference, as cold and
unapproachable as if his sublime dignity was far removed above the petty
doings of the crawling humanity at his feet; and the effect was as
impressive now as it had been the evening before. How beautiful--how
marvellously grand and lofty was this work of human hands! Even the
Christians could not repress a low, long-drawn murmur of surprise,
admiration, and astonishment. The heathen were at first silent, overcome
by pious awe and ecstasy; but then they broke out in a loud and
triumphant shout, and their cries of "Hail to Serapis!" "Serapis, reign
forever!" rang from pillar to pillar and echoed from the stony vault of
the apse and ceiling.