to distinguish the accents of the Indian, but all was no more than the
hollow murmur of waters, and the din of the cataracts that rushed from
steep to steep down the sides of the mountain.

Having passed the night in this cruel perturbation, the Caliph at
daybreak retired to his tent, where, without taking the least sustenance,
he continued to doze till the dusk of evening began again to come on. He
then resumed his vigils as before, and persevered in observing them for
many nights together. At length, fatigued with so successless an
employment, he sought relief from change. To this end he sometimes paced
with hasty strides across the plain, and, as he wildly gazed at the
stars, reproached them with having deceived him; but, lo! on a sudden the
clear blue sky appeared streaked over with streams of blood, which
reached from the valley even to the city of Samarah. As this awful
phenomenon seemed to touch his tower, Vathek at first thought of
re-pairing thither to view it more distinctly, but feeling himself unable
to advance, and being overcome with apprehension, he muffled up his face
in his robe.

Terrifying as these prodigies were, this impression upon him was no more
than momentary, and served only to stimulate his love of the marvellous.
Instead, therefore, of returning to his palace, he persisted in the
resolution of abiding where the Indian vanished from his view. One
night, however, while he was walking as usual on the plain, the moon and
the stars at once were eclipsed, and a total darkness ensued; the earth
trembled beneath him, and a voice came forth, the voice of the Giaour,
who, in accents more sonorous than thunder, thus addressed him: "Wouldest
thou devote thyself to me? Adore then the terrestrial influences, and
abjure Mahomet. On these conditions I will bring thee to the palace of
subterranean fire; there shalt thou behold in immense depositories the