The wall next to the sleeping beast could not be
safely examined, yet Timokles, looking through the gloom, noted from
his distance no more promising signs than were exhibited by the
other three sides of the room. Most of all did he linger about the
spot where, it seemed to him, he had entered, and more than once as
he touched the surface of the wall, seeking for some hidden spring,
he thought he heard behind him the leopard's soft footsteps, but,
turning hastily, found himself mistaken.
At length, in his search, Timokles slightly stumbled over some lumps
of mud that had fallen from the roof. The crunching sound partly
aroused the leopard. With a long-drawn sigh, the drowsy creature
stirred and rose slowly to his feet, stretching himself. He did not
yet see Timokles.
How beautiful the spotted hide was! Timokles, watching with steady
eyes for the instant when he should be discovered, had a fleeting
memory of that leopard-skin that covered a seat at home in.
Alexandria. He would never sit there again.
Even in these dread moments of suspense, there flashed across
Timokles' mind the memory of the saying of the martyr Ignatius,
bishop of Antioch, who was sent to Rome to fight with wild beasts:
"I am God's wheat; the teeth of the fierce beasts will but bruise
me, that I may be changed into the fine bread of my God."
It was the moment of discovery! The leopard had been standing,
looking around half sleepily.
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