d to her son, saying, "Let
Hermon tell you how deeply this woman has influenced his life, and, when
her turn comes, think of your mother."

"She is a woman," replied Eumedes, "and the King's mandate only commands
me to punish men. Besides, I promised her indulgence if she would make a
confession."

"And she?" asked Hermon.

"Neither by threats nor promises," answered the admiral, "can this
sinister, beautiful creature be induced to speak."

"Certainly not," said the artist, and a smile of satisfaction flitted
over his face.

CHAPTER XVI.

A short row took Hermon and Eumedes the admiral's galley. Ledscha had
already been carried ashore. There she was to be confronted with the men
who were suspected of having showed the mutineers the way to the city.

Absorbed in his own thoughts, Hermon waited for the admiral, who at first
was claimed by one official duty after another. The artist's thoughts
lingered with Daphne. To her father the loss of his house, nay, perhaps
of his wealth, would seem almost unendurable, yet even were he beggared,
provision was made for him and his daughter. He, Hermon, could again
create, as in former days, and what happiness it would be if he were
permitted to repay the man to whom he owed so much for the kindness
bestowed upon him!

He longed to give to the woman he loved again and again, and it would
have seemed to him a favour of fortune if the flames had consumed even
the last drachm of her wealthy father.

Completely engrossed by these reflections, he forgot the horrors before
him, but when he raised his eyes and saw the archers continuing their
terrible work he shuddered.

The admiral's galley lay so near the shore that he distinguished the
figures of the Gauls separately. Some, obeying the instinct of self
preservation, fled from the places which could be reached by the arrows
of the archers on the ships, but others pressed toward the shafts. A
frightful, heart-rending spectacle, yet how rich in food for the
long-darkened eyes of the artist! Two brothers of unusual height, who,
nude like all their comrades in death, offered their broad, beautifully
arched chests to the arrows, would not leave his memory. It was a
terrible sight, yet grand and worthy of being wrested from oblivion by
art, and it impressed itself firmly on his mind.

After noon Eumedes could at last devote himself to his young friend.
Although the wind drove showers of fine rain before it, the admiral
remai