days the seer holds his peace, and keeps his tent, refusing
to utter a word that should, disclose any name or sacrifice 5
any life. At last, goaded by the Ithacan’s vehement
clamour, he breaks into a concerted utterance, and dooms
me to the altar. All assented, well content that the danger
which each feared for himself should be directed to the
extinction of one poor wretch. And now the day of horror 10
was come; all was being ready for my sacrifice—the
salt cakes for the fire, and the fillet to crown my brow—when
I escaped, I own it, from death, and broke my