er.

"Oh! my beloved," softly burst forth the Egyptian, "how blessed are we
to-night!" He touched the strings to a measured tune, following with a
minuet-step up and down the floor. A fantastic spectacle! for as he
passed and repassed the lamp, an elastic shadow crept noiselessly
behind him, dodged beneath his feet, and anon outstretched itself like
a sudden pit yawning before him. "This night repays the dreary years
that lie behind. How have I outlasted them! What had I fallen on the
very threshold of requital?--all I had hoped and labored for, a
failure!"

Here paused the tune and the dance, and arose a weird dirge of
compassion over what might have been! So moving was it, the player
himself was melted. His dark nature showed its fairest side,--sensitive
refinement, grace of expression, flowing ease of manner. Quick was he in
fancy, emotional, soft and strong, gentle and fiery. In this hour he
bloomed, like some night-flowering plant, of perfume sweet but
poisonous. This was Manetho's apogee!

Again his humor changed, and he became playful and frivolous. Had old
Nurse in the corner been little more personable, he might have caught
her round the waist, and forced her to tread a wild measure with him.
But this unfolding of his faculties in the shower of good fortune had
refined his aesthetic susceptibility. The withered, disfigured woman
was no partner for him!

She sat, following, with the intentness of her single eye, his every
motion, her head swaying in unconscious sympathy. Although her body
sat so stiff and awkward in the chimney-seat, her spirit, inspired
with the grace of love, was dancing with Manetho's. But the body kept
its place, knowing that erelong he too must come to rest. In the light
of a vivid recollection, the long tract between fades and
foreshortens, till only the Then and the Now are notable. However, the
light will pale, the dusty miles outstretch their length once more,
and the pilgrim find himself wearier than ever.

But meanwhile the clergyman floats hither and thither like a wreath of
black smoke blown about by a draught of air. One might have expected
to see him all at once vanish up the wide-mouthed chimney. The music
seems to emanate less from the instrument than from the player; it
interprets and colors every motion and expression. His chanting and
his playing answer and supplement each other, like strophe and
antistrophe.

"Let me tell thee why I rejoice, that thy sympathy may inc