"That which hath been, is now:
and that which is to be, hath already been: . .
and God requireth that which is past."
ECCLESIASTES.
Profound silence,--profound unconsciousness,--oblivious rest! Such are the soothing ministrations of kindly Nature to the overburdened spirit; Nature, who in her tender wisdom and maternal solicitude will not permit us to suffer beyond a certain limit. Excessive pain, whether it be physical or mental, cannot last long,--and human anguish wound up to its utmost quivering-pitch finds at the very height of desolation, a strange hushing, Lethean calm. Even so it was with Theos Alwyn,--drowned in the deep stillness of a merciful swoon, he had sunk, as it were, out of life,--far out of the furthest reach or sense of time, in some vast unsounded gulf of shadows where earth and heaven were alike forgotten! ...
How long he lay thus he never knew,--but he was roused at last.. roused by the pressure of something cold and sharp against his throat, . . and on languidly opening his eyes he found himself surrounded by a small body of men in armor, who, leaning on tall pikes which glistened brilliantly in the full sunlight, surveyed him with looks of derisive amusement. One of these, closer to him than the rest, and who seemed from his dress and bearing to be some officer in authority, held instead of a pike a short sword, the touch of whose pointed steel blade had been the effectual means of awakening him from his lethargy.
"How now!" said this personage in a rough voice as he withdrew his weapon--"What idle fellow art thou? ... Traitor or spy? Fool thou must be, and breaker of the King's law, else thou hadst never dared to bask in such swine-like ease outside the gates of Al- Kyris the Magnificent!"
Al-Kyris the Magnificent! What was the man talking about? Uttering a hasty exclamation, Alwyn staggered to his feet with an effort, and shading his eyes from the hot glare of the sun, stared bewilderedly at his interlocutor.
"What..what is this?" he stammered dreamily--"I do not understand you! ... I.. I have slept on the field of Ardath!"
The soldiers burst into a loud laugh, in which their leader joined.
"Thou hast drunk deep, my friend!" he observed, putting up his sword with a sharp clatter into its shining sheath,--"What name sayst thou? ... ARDATH? We know it not, nor dost thou, I warrant, when sober! Go to--make for thy home speedily! Aye, aye! the flavor of good wine clings to thy mouth still,--'tis a pleasant sweetness that I myself am partial to, and I can pardon those who, like thee, love it somewhat too well! Away!--and thank the gods thou hast fallen into the hands of the King's guard, rather then Lysia's priestly patrol! See! the gates are open,--in with thee! and cool thy head at the first fountain?"