A superstitious dread, to which they had hitherto thought themselves superior, overcame their hearts, as a single soldier, bolder than his fellows, mounted by a ladder to the head of the colossal statue, and struck at its cheek with an axe.

The blow had scarcely been dealt when a deep groan was heard from the opposite wall of the apartment, succeeded by a noise of retreating footsteps, and then all was silent again.

For a few minutes this incident stayed the feet of those who were about to join their companion in the mutilation of the idol; but after an interval their hesitation vanished, they dealt blow after blow at the statue, and no more groans followed--no more sounds were heard, save the wild echoes of the stroke of hammer, crowbar, and club, resounding through the lofty hall.

In an incredibly short space of time the image of Serapis lay in great fragments on the marble floor.

The multitude seized on the limbs of the idol and ran forth to drag them in triumph through the streets.