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THE KING OF THE GROVE 351
shadows of the trees, with no guide but the straggling starlight,
to find the great oak which Ofellus had described to
him. It grew deep in the green hollow close beside the lake,
and the hoary mistletoe tufted its upper branches. He climbed
'
the tree, plucked the golden bough,' and waited for the rising
of the moon to attack the Arician priest if he came out of the
temple, as he usually did, before he went to rest.
It was not long before the moon began to silver the dense
foliage of the grove, and then he heard a wicket open, and
from the place where he knelt crouched among the brushwood
he saw the tall figure of the priest,
whose shadow fell across
the sward and almost reached his hiding-place. He was a
frame. He carried a
gaunt-looking man, but of powerful
large sword in his hand and looked round him suspiciously
on every side. 1 In his excitement Onesimus moved, and a
fallen branch snapped under his foot. The priest looked
round with a startled glance, and Onesimus could see his
features working in the moonlight. He had armed himself
for his frightful purpose with the only weapon he could find
a reaping-hook, which he took down from Dromo's wall.
Listening intently, the priest walked along the grassy path,
but as no other sound followed he seemed to relax his vigilance
and turned back. Then, with a sudden shout, Onesimus
sprang upon him.
But habitual terror had made the priest an adept at selfdefence.
It was impossible to take him wholly off his guard.
At the first sound he turned, quick as lightning, and, dropping
his sword, seized with one arm the hand which grasped
the reaping-hook the gleam of which he had caught in the
moonlight and with the other dealt Onesimus a blow on
the face which knocked him stunned upon the turf. To stoop
over his prostrate form and wrench from his grasp the reaping-hook,
was the work of a moment. With a scornful laugh
he flung the weapon over the wall which enclosed the sacred
shrine, and then placed his foot on the youth's breast.
Onesimus came to his senses, felt the heavy foot on his
breast, and opened his eyes.
'
So,' said the priest, with a grim laugh, ' you wanted to be
Rex Nemorensis, did you ? It 's none so enviable a post, let
1
Note 39. The King of the Grove.