Eusebius closed the eyes of the Emperor; the Church recited over him, before the body was committed to the tomb-- "Rise again, O king of the earth! Answer the summons of thy coming Judge, the King of kings!" XXIII Not far from Succi, a mountainous defile in the Hæmus range[8] between Moesia and Thrace, two men were making their way along a narrow path, at night, through a forest of beeches. They were the Emperor Julian and Maximus the enchanter. The full moon was shining in a clear sky, and strangely illuminating the gold and purple of autumn foliage. From time to time a wan yellow leaf would fall swirling with a slight rustle. The air was full of moisture and the musty smell of a tardy autumn--that soft, chill melancholy odour which puts men in mind of death. The soft masses of leaves made a brushing sound under the feet of the travellers, and round them in the silent woods burned the magnificent obsequies of the departing year. [8] The Balkans. "Master," asked Julian, "why is not that divine lightness mine, that gaiety which used to make so splendid the men of Hellas?" "You are not a man of Hellas." Julian sighed-- "Alas, our ancestors were barbarians, Medes; and the sluggish blood of the North flows in my veins. It is true, I am no son of the Hellenes!" "My friend, Hellas has never existed," murmured Maximus, with his old bewitching smile. "What do you mean?" asked Julian. "The Hellas that you love has never existed." "Do you mean to say that my faith is futile?" "We are only to believe," answered Maximus, "in what is not, but shall be. Your Hellas shall exist, shall be the reign, the kingdom of divine men, men daring all things, fearing none." "Fearing none!... Master, powerful enchantments are thine.... Deliver my soul from fear!" "Fear of what?" "I cannot say, but from childhood I have been afraid--afraid of life, of death, of myself, of the mystery in all things, of the darkness.... I had an old nurse, Labda, like a Parca, a Fate, who used to spin me terrible tales of my family, the Flavii. These mad old-wives' tales keep singing in my ears still, at night, when I am alone. They will ruin me some day ... I wish to be free, as one of the old Hellenes ... and I have no gladness in me.... Sometimes I think I am a coward, Master!... Master, save me! Deliver me from that eternal fear, these consuming darknesses!" "Ah, I have long known the need of your soul," said Maximus, gravely, "and from this very day I will cleanse you from this Galilean corruption--slay the shadow of Golgotha in the radiance of Mithra--warm afresh your body, frozen at baptism, in the hot blood of the Sun-god!... My son, rejoice! for I will give you such freedom, such joy as no man on earth has yet possessed!"