amadan. The temptation to ensure his freedom
was irresistible. He clambered up the ruined wall, descended into the
intricate windings that led to the Ionic fane, that served him as a
beacon, hurried through the silent and starry streets, gained the great
portal, and rushed once more into the desert.

A vague fear of pursuit made him continue his course many hours without
resting. The desert again became sandy, the heat increased. The breeze
that plays about the wilderness, and in early spring is often scented
with the wild fragrance of aromatic plants, sank away. A lurid
brightness suffused the heavens. An appalling stillness pervaded nature;
even the insects were silent. For the first time in his pilgrimage,
a feeling of deep despondency fell over the soul of Alroy. His energy
appeared suddenly to have deserted him. A low hot wind began to rise,
and fan his cheek with pestiferous kisses, and enervate his frame with
its poisonous embrace. His head and limbs ached with a dull sensation,
more terrible than pain; his sight was dizzy, his tongue swollen. Vainly
he looked around for aid; vainly he extended his forlorn arms, and
wrung them to the remorseless heaven, almost frantic with thirst. The
boundless horizon of the desert disappeared, and the unhappy victim, in
the midst of his torture, found himself apparently surrounded by bright
and running streams, the fleeting waters of the false mirage!

The sun became blood-red, the sky darker, the sand rose in fierce
eddies, the moaning wind burst into shrieks and exhaled more ardent
and still more malignant breath. The pilgrim could no longer sustain
himself.[15] Faith, courage, devotion deserted him with his failing
energies. He strove no longer with his destiny, he delivered himself
up to despair and death. He fell upon one knee with drooping head,
supporting himself by one quivering hand, and then, full of the anguish
of baffled purposes and lost affections, raising his face and arm to
heaven, thus to the elements he poured his passionate farewell.

'O life! once vainly deemed a gloomy toil, I feel thy sweetness now!
Farewell, O life, farewell my high resolves and proud conviction of
almighty fame. My days, my short unprofitable days, melt into the past;
and death, with which I struggle, horrible death, arrests me in this
wilderness. O my sister, could thy voice but murmur in my ear one single
sigh of love; could thine eye with its soft radiance but an instant
blend with