Down! down knelt the assembled throng!
Our mind had been previously attuned to melancholy; it now reeled under its oppression.
We looked around with tearful eye. Old Theodoric of the Goths seemed to frown from his pedestal.
We turned to the statue against which we had leant.
It was that of a youthful and sinewy warrior.
We read its inscription.
Artur, Konig Von England
"Ah! hast thou too thy representative, my country?"
We looked around once more.
The congregation were prostrate before the mysterious Host; and we alone stood up, gazing with profound awe and reverence on the mystic rite.