manner aforesaid. I, a Stoic, refrained and attained."

"Thou didst bear away the tincture? thou hast it now?" impetuously
interrogated the Persian.

"Behold it!" replied the Greek, exhibiting a small flask filled with the
most gorgeous purple liquid. "What seest thou here?" demanded he
triumphantly, holding it up to the light. "To me this vial displays the
University of Athens, and throngs of fair youths hearkening to the
discourse of one who resembles myself."

"To my vision," responded the Persian, peering at the vial, "it rather
reveals a palace, and a dress of honour. But suffer me to contemplate it
more closely, for my eyes have waxed dim by over application to study."

So saying, he snatched the flask from Sorianus, and immediately turned to
fly. The Greek sprang after his treasure, and failing to grasp Marcobad's
wrist, seized his beard, plucking the hair out by handfuls. The infuriated
Persian smote him on the head with the crystal flagon. It burst into
shivers, and the priceless contents gushed forth in a torrent over the
uncovered head and uplifted visage of Sorianus, bathing every hair and
feature with the most vivid purple.

The aghast and thunderstricken philosophers remained gazing at each other
for a moment.

"It is indelible!" cried Sorianus in distraction, rushing down, however, to
the brink of the little stream, and plunging his head beneath the waters.
They carried away a cloud of purple, but left the purple head stained as
before.

The philosopher, as he upraised his glowing and dripping countenance from
the brook, resembled Silenus emerging from one of the rivers which Bacchus
metamorphosed into wine during his campaign in India. He resorted to
attrition and contrition, to maceration and laceration; he tried friction
with leaves, with grass, with sedge, with his garments; he regarded himself
in one crystal pool after another, a grotesque anti-Narcissus. At last he
flung himself on the earth, and gave free course to his anguish.

The grace of repentance is rarely denied us when our misdeeds have proved
unprofitable. Marcobad awkwardly approached.

"Brother," he whispered, "I will restore the tincture of which I have
deprived thee, and add thereto an antidote, if such may be found. Await my
return under this camphor tree."

So saying, he hastened up the path by which Sorianus had descended, and was
speedily out of sight.

III

Sorianus tarried long under the camphor tree, but at l