He waved his hands to and fro
before him, as if her were parting back the folds of a heavy veil that
obscured his sight; but his wayward thoughts did not resume as yet their
old bias towards ferocity and crime. When he spoke again, his speech
was still inspired by the visions of his early life--but now of his
early life in the temple at Alexandria. His expressions were more
abrupt, more disjointed than before; yet they continued to display the
same evidence of the mysterious, instinctive vividness of recollection,
which was the result of the sudden change in the nature of his insanity.
His language wandered (still as if the words came from him undesignedly
and unconsciously) over the events of his boyish introduction to the
service of the gods, and, though confusing them in order, still
preserved them in substance, as they have been already related in the
history of his 'apprenticeship to the temple'.
Now he was in imagination looking down once more from the summit of the
Temple of Serapis on the glittering expanse of the Nile and the wide
country around it; and now he was walking proudly through the streets of
Alexandria by the side of his uncle, Macrinus, the high priest.
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