e was tempted to go nearer and force
her to hear him; but before he had ascended the first of the flight of
steps leading to the pronaos, he heard the footsteps of the men who were
bearing the wounded warrior after him.

They must not see him here with one of their countrywomen at this hour,
and manly pride forbade him to address her again as a supplicant.

So he went back to the road, mounted his horse, and rode on without
vouchsafing a word of farewell to the woman who was invoking destruction
upon his head. As he did so his eyes again rested on the stern face of
Nemesis, and the wheel whose turning determined the destiny of men at her
feet.

Assailed by horrible fears, and overpowered by presentiments of evil, he
pursued his way through the darkness.

Perhaps Myrtilus had succumbed to the terrible attack which must have
visited him in such a storm, and life without his friend would be bereft
of half its charm. Orphaned, poor, a struggler who had gained no complete
victory, it had been rich only in disappointments to him, in spite of his
conviction that he was a genuine artist, and was fighting for a good
cause. Now he knew that he had also lost the woman by whose assistance he
was certain of a great success in his own much-disputed course, and
Ledscha, if any one, was right in expecting a favourable hearing from the
goddess who punished injustice.

He did not think of Daphne again until he was approaching the place where
her tents had stood, and the remembrance of her fell like a ray of light
into his darkened soul.

Yet on that spot had also been erected the wooden platform from which
Althea had showed him the transformation into the spider, and the
recollection of the foolish error into which the Thracian had drawn him
disagreeably clouded the pleasant thought of Daphne.

CHAPTER XVII.

Complete darkness enfolded the white house. Hermon saw only two windows
lighted, the ones in his friend's studio, which looked out into the open
square, while his own faced the water.

What did this mean?

It must be nearly midnight, and he could no longer expect Myrtilus to be
still at work. He had supposed that he should find him in his chamber,
supported by his slaves, struggling for breath. What was the meaning of
the light in the workrooms now?

Where was his usually efficient Bias? He never went to rest when his
master was to return home, yet the carrier dove must have announced his
coming!

But Hermon ha