And the little goatherd's mind was filled with terror--nor would his father tell him further what the mystery meant.

But when he went to his bed of dried leaves at night, and the moon rose upon the lake, and the great woods murmured in the hollow far beneath him, he tossed restlessly from side to side, thinking of the new priest who kept watch there--of his young limbs and miserable eyes--of that voice which he had flung to heaven.

And the child tried to believe that he might yet escape .-- But already in his dreams he saw the grove part once more and the slayer leap forth.

He saw the watching crowd--and their fierce, steady eyes, waiting thirstily for the spilt blood.

And it was as though a mighty hand crushed the boy's heart, and for the first time he shrank from the gods, and from his father,--so that the joy of his youth was darkened within him.' * * * * * As he read the last word, Manisty flung the sheets down upon the table beside him, and rising, he began to pace the room with his hands upon his sides, frowning and downcast.