ringing the son of his former master to a place of
safety, and the centurion had been prevailed upon by the young tribunes
to open a way for the freedman through the sentinels. The gardeners of
Polybius, with their ass, had been detained in an inn on this side of
Lake Mareotis by the closing of the harbor, and Andreas had taken the
precaution of making use of them. Had it not been for the centurion, who
was known to the other soldiers, the watch would never have allowed the
freedman to get so far as the fountain; Andreas therefore begged Melissa
to thank their preserver. But his words fell upon her ear unnoticed, and
when the strange soldier left her to devote himself again to Diodoros
she breathed more freely, for his rapidly spoken words hurt her.

If he would only not come again--only not speak to her!

She had even ceased to look for her lover. Her one desire was to see and
hear nothing. When she did force herself to raise her heavy, throbbing
lids, she noticed that they were passing poor-looking houses which she
never remembered seeing before. She fancied, however, from the damp wind
that blew in her face and relieved her burning head, that they must
be nearing the lake or the sea. Surely that was a fishing-net hanging
yonder on the fence round a but on which the light of the lantern fell.
But perhaps it was something quite different, for the images that passed
before her heavy eyes began to mingle confusedly, to repeat themselves,
and be surrounded by a ring of rainbow colors. Her head had grown
so heavy that her mind had lost all sense of hope or fear; only her
thoughts stirred faintly as the procession moved on and on through the
darkness, without a pause for rest.

When they had passed the last of the huts she managed to look upward.

The evening star stood out clear against the sky, and she seemed to see
the other stars revolving quickly round it.

Her mouth was painful and parched, and more than once she had been
seized with giddiness, which forced her to hold tightly to the saddle.

Now they stopped beside a large piece of water, and she felt strangely
well and light of heart. That must be the dear, familiar lake. And there
stood Agatha waving to her, and at her side the lady Euryale under the
spreading shade of a mighty palm. Bright sunshine flooded them both, and
yet it was the night; for there was the evening star beaming down upon
her.

How could that be?

Yet, when she tried to understand it all