This singular speech was accompanied by a still more singular transfiguration of countenance--a dark, fiery glory burned in his eyes, and, in the stern, frowning wonder and defiance of his expression and attitude, there was something grand yet terrible,--menacing yet supernaturally sublime. He stood so for an instant's space, majestically sombre, like some haughty, discrowned emperor confronting his conqueror,--a rumbling, long-continued roll of thunder outside seemed to recall him to himself, and he pressed his hand tightly down over his eyelids, as though to shut out some overwhelming vision. After a pause he looked up again,--wildly, confusedly,--almost beseechingly,--and Heliobas, observing this, rose and advanced toward him. "Peace!" he said, in low, impressive tones,--"we have recognized each other,--but on earth such recognitions are brief and soon forgotten!" He waited for a few seconds,--then resumed lightly, "Come, look at me now! ... what do you see?" "Nothing ... but yourself!" he replied, sighing deeply as he spoke--"yet ... oddly enough, a moment ago I fancied you had altogether a different appearance,--and I thought I saw ... no matter what! ... I cannot describe it!" His brows contracted in a puzzled line. "It was a curious phenomenon--very curious ... and it affected me strangely..." he stopped abruptly,--then added, with a slight flush of annoyance on his face, "I perceive you are an adept in the art of optical illusion!" Heliobas laughed softly. "Of course! What else can you expect of a charlatan, a trickster, and a monk to boot! Deception, deception throughout, my dear sir! ... and have you not ASKED to be deceived?"