What flood of emotions rushed into the vacant mind of Ulpius at the
instant when he discerned the long-loved, well-known image of the
Egyptian god, there was nothing for some moments outwardly visible in
him to betray. His moral insensibility appeared but to be deepened as
his gaze was now fixed with rigid intensity on the temple portico. Thus
he continued to remain motionless, as if what he saw had petrified him
where he stood, when the clouds, which had been closing in deeper and
deeper blackness as the morning advanced, and which, still charged with
electricity, were gathering to revive the storm of the past night, burst
abruptly into a loud peal of thunder over his head.
At that warning sound, as if it had been the supernatural signal awaited
to arouse him, as if in one brief moment it awakened every recollection
of all that he had resolutely attempted during the night of thunder that
was past, he started into instant animation. His countenance
brightened, his form expanded, he dropped the hand of Antonina, raised
his arm aloft towards the wrathful heaven in frantic triumph, then
staggering forwards, fell on his knees at the base of the temple steps.
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