l mind, their expedition through the city had
not brought him any nearer to the Roman. Some insurmountable barrier
stood fixed between himself and this restless, inquisitive man, who
required so many answers that no one else had time to ask a question, and
who when he was silent looked so absorbed and unapproachable that no one
would have ventured to disturb him. The bold young artist had, however,
tried now and again to break through the fence, but each time, he had at
once been seized with a feeling, of which he could not rid himself, that
he had done something awkward and unbecoming. He felt in his intercourse
with the architect as a noble dog might feel that sported with a lion,
and such sport could come to no good. Thus, for various reasons, host and
guest were well content when the last dish was removed. Before Pollux
left the room the Emperor gave him the tablets with the verses and begged
him, with a meaning smile, to desire the gate-keeper at the Caesareum to
give them to Annaeus Florus the Roman. He once more urgently charged the
sculptor to look about for his young friend and, if he should find him at
Lochias, to tell him that he, Claudius Venator, would return home ere
long. Then the artist went his way.

Hadrian still sat a long time listening to the talk close by; but after
waiting for above an hour to hear some fresh mention made of himself, he
paid his reckoning and went out into the Canopic way, now brilliantly
lighted. There he mingled with the revellers, and walked slowly onward,
seeking suspiciously and anxiously for his vanished favorite.

CHAPTER III.

Antinous, searching for his master, had wandered about in the crowd.
Whenever he saw any figures of exceptional stature he followed them, but
each time only to discover that he had entered on a false track. Long and
persistent effort was not in his nature, so as soon as he began to get
tired, he gave up the search and sat down again on a stone bench in the
garden of the Paneum.

Two cynic philosophers, with unkempt hair, tangled beards, and ragged
cloaks flung over their shivering bodies, sat down by him and fell into
loud and contemptuous abuse of the deference shown, 'in these days,' to
external things and vulgar joys, and of the wretched sensualists who
regarded pleasure and splendor, rather than virtue, as the aim and end of
existence. In order to be heard by the by-standers they spoke in loud
tones, and the elder of the two, flourished