me forth, with his sword dripping with
blood. And when the women asked him how it fared in the palace, he
answered, "All is well, if only Apollo hath spoken the thing that is
true."

But as he spake King AEgisthus came back, asking, "Where be these
strangers from Phocis that are come, telling how Prince Orestes hath
come by his death in a chariot race?"

And Electra made answer that they were within. Then AEgisthus cried,
"Open the gates, and let all men of Argos and of Mycenae see the body;
and if perchance any man hath been lifted up with vain hopes, let him
look upon Orestes that he is dead, and so submit himself to me."

Then the gate was opened, and there appeared a dead body, lying covered
with a sheet. And AEgisthus said, "Take the covering from off his face;
for he is my kinsman, and should not miss due mourning from me."

But Orestes answered, "Take it thyself; for this dead body is thine, not
mine."

Then said AEgisthus, "Thou speakest well: if the Queen be within the
palace, bid her come."

And Orestes said, "She is near thee; look not elsewhere." And when
AEgisthus lifted the covering, lo! it was the Queen who lay dead. Then he
knew the whole matter, and turned to the stranger saying, "Thou must be
Orestes."

"'Tis even so," cried Orestes. "And now go into the palace."

"But why slayest thou me in darkness, if this deed be just?"

"I slay thee where thou didst slay him that is dead."

So he drave him before him into the palace, and slew him there. Thus the
blood of King Agamemnon was avenged.

THE STORY OF THE FURIES, OR THE LOOSING OF ORESTES.

The gift of prophecy Earth had at the first, and after her Themis; and
after her Phoebe, who was of the race of the Titans, and Phoebe gave
it to Apollo--who is also called Phoebus--at his birth. Now Apollo had
a great temple and famous upon the hill of Delphi, to which men were
wont to resort from all the earth, seeking counsel and knowledge of the
things that should come to pass hereafter. And it came to pass on a day
that the priestess--for the temple was served by a woman, whom men
called Pythia--when she went into the shrine, after her custom, in the
morning, saw therein a dreadful sight. For by the very seat of the God
there sat a man, a suppliant, whose hands were dripping with blood, and
he bare a bloody sword, and on his head there was a garland of olive
leaves, cunningly twined with snow-white wool. And behind there sat a
strange comp