everything in the room lay before
him shrouded in a whirl of green mist. All he saw seemed to be tinted
with light emerald green. The hair, the faces, the dresses of those
present gleamed and floated in a greenish light; and not till Paula went
up to the chest with a firm, haughty step, drew out a small key, gave it
to the treasurer, and answered his speech with three words: "Open the
box!"--uttering them with cold condescension as though even this were too
much--not till then did he see clearly once more: her bright brown hair,
the fire of her blue eyes, the rose and white of her complexion, the
light dress which draped her fine figure in noble folds, and her
triumphant smile. How beautiful, how desirable was this woman! A few
minutes and she would be worsted in this contest; but the triumph had
cost him not only herself, but all that was good and pure in his soul,
and worthy of his forefathers. An inward voice cried it out to him, but
he drowned it in the shout of "Onwards," like a chariot-driver. Yes--on;
still on towards the goal; away over ruins and stones, through blood and
dust, till she bowed her proud neck, crushed and beaten, and sued for
mercy.

The lid of the trunk flew open. Paula stooped, lifted the necklace, held
it out to the judges, pulling it straight by the two ends. . . . Ah! what
a terrible, heartrending cry of despair! Orion even, never, never wished
to hear the like again. Then she flung the jewel on the table,
exclaiming: "Shameful, shameful! atrocious!" she tottered backwards and
clung to her faithful Betta; for her knees were giving way, and she felt
herself in danger of sinking to the ground.

Orion sprang forward to support her, but she thrust him aside, with a
glance so full of anguish, rage and intense contempt that he stood
motionless, and clasped his hand over his heart.--And this deed, which
was to work such misery for two human beings, he had smiled in doing!
This practical joke which concealed a death-warrant--to what fearful
issues might it not lead?

Paula had sunk speechless on to a seat, and he stood staring in silence,
till a burst of laughter broke from the assembly and old Psamtik, the
captain of the guard, who had long been a member of the council of
justice, exclaimed:

"By my soul, a splendid stone! There is the heathen god Eros with his
winged sweetheart Psyche smiling in his face. Did you never read that
pretty story by Apuleius--'The Golden Ass' it is called? The passa