chambers of the temple, the term imposed on Apaecides was not yet
completed; and when he had risen from his couch, attired himself, as
usual, in his robes, and left his narrow chamber, he found himself
before the altars of the temple.

In the exhaustion of his late emotions he had slept far into the
morning, and the vertical sun already poured its fervid beams over the
sacred place.

'Salve, Apaecides!' said a voice, whose natural asperity was smoothed by
long artifice into an almost displeasing softness of tone. 'Thou art
late abroad; has the goddess revealed herself to thee in visions?'

'Could she reveal her true self to the people, Calenus, how incenseless
would be these altars!'

'That,' replied Calenus, 'may possibly be true; but the deity is wise
enough to hold commune with none but priests.'

'A time may come when she will be unveiled without her own
acquiescence.'

'It is not likely: she has triumphed for countless ages. And that which
has so long stood the test of time rarely succumbs to the lust of
novelty. But hark ye, young brother! these sayings are indiscreet.'

'It is not for thee to silence them,' replied Apaecides, haughtily.

'So hot!--yet I will not quarrel with thee. Why, my Apaecides, has not
the Egyptian convinced thee of the necessity of our dwelling together in
unity? Has he not convinced thee of the wisdom of deluding the people
and enjoying ourselves? If not, oh, brother! he is not that great
magician he is esteemed.'

'Thou, then, hast shared his lessons?' said Apaecides, with a hollow
smile.

'Ay! but I stood less in need of them than thou. Nature had already
gifted me with the love of pleasure, and the desire of gain and power.
Long is the way that leads the voluptuary to the severities of life; but
it is only one step from pleasant sin to sheltering hypocrisy. Beware
the vengeance of the goddess, if the shortness of that step be
disclosed!'

'Beware, thou, the hour when the tomb shall be rent and the rottenness
exposed,' returned Apaecides, solemnly. 'Vale!'

With these words he left the flamen to his meditations. When he got a
few paces from the temple, he turned to look back. Calenus had already
disappeared in the entry room of the priests, for it now approached the
hour of that repast which, called prandium by the ancients, answers in
point of date to the breakfast of the moderns. The white and graceful
fane gleamed brightly in the sun. Upon the altars before it