stopped, just outside the sacred acacia-grove, for the neighing of a
horse was now audible in that direction.

It was one of the king's horses that neighed; Lysias, the Greek, tied him
up to a tree by the road at the edge of the grove, flung his mantle over
the loins of the smoking beast; and feeling his way from tree to tree
soon found himself by the Well of the Sun where he sat down on the
margin.

Presently from the east came a keen, cold breeze, the harbinger of
sunrise; the gray gloaming began by degrees to pierce and part the tops
of the tall trees, which, in the darkness, had seemed a compact black
roof. The crowing of cocks rang out from the court-yard of the temple,
and, as the Corinthian rose with a shiver to warm himself by a rapid walk
backwards and forwards, he heard a door creak near the outer wall of the
temple, of which the outline now grew sharper and clearer every instant
in the growing light.

He now gazed with eager observation down the path which, as the day
approached, stood out with increasing clearness from the surrounding
shades, and his heart began to beat faster as he perceived a figure
approaching the well, with rapid steps. It was a human form that
advanced towards him--only one--no second figure accompanied it; but it
was not a man--no, a woman in a long robe. Still, she for whom he waited
was surely smaller than the woman, who now came near to him. Was it the
elder and not the younger sister, whom alone he was anxious to speak
with, who came to the well this morning?

He could now distinguish her light foot-fall--now she was divided from
him by a young acacia-shrub which hid her from his gaze-now she set down