Then a doubt which had never before entered his mind suddenly took
possession of Hermon.

Since for so many months he had firmly believed his friend's work to be
his own, he might also have fallen into another delusion, and Myrtilus
might still dwell among the living.

At this thought the blind man, with a swift movement, sat erect upon his
couch; it seemed as if a bright light blazed before his eyes in the dark
room.

The reasons which had led the authorities to pronounce Myrtilus dead
rendered his early end probable, it is true, yet by no means proved it
absolutely. He must hold fast to that.

He who, ever since he returned to Alexandria from Tennis, had squandered
precious time as if possessed by evil demons, would now make a better use
of it. Besides, he longed to leave the capital. What! Suppose he
should now, even though it were necessary to delay obeying the oracle's
command, search, traverse, sail through the world in pursuit of Myrtilus,
even, if it must be, to the uttermost Thule?

But he fell back upon the couch as quickly as he had started up.

"Blind! blind!" he groaned in dull despair. How could he, who was not
able even to see his hand before his eyes, succeed in finding his friend?

And yet, yet----