ll rang in the
young man's ear. All that was soft in his soul urged him to make good the
evil he had brought upon this fair, hapless young creature; but those
very words gave him strength to remain steadfast; and though he felt
himself appealed to for comfort and compassion, he could only stretch out
imploring hands, as though praying for help, and say:

"Ah Katharina, and you are as lovely, as charming now, as you were then;
but--much as you attracted me, the great love that fills a life can come
but once. . . . Forget what happened afterwards. . . . Put your question
in another form, alter it a little, and ask me again--or let me assure
you."

But he had no time to say more; for, before he could atop her, she had
slipped past him and flown away like some swift wild thing into the road
and down to the fishing cove.

CHAPTER IV.

Orion stood alone gazing sadly after her. Was this his father's
curse--that all who loved him must reap pain and grief in return?

He shivered; still, his youthful energy and powers of resistance were
strong enough to give him speedy mastery over these torturing
reflections. What opportunities lay before him of proving his prowess!
Even while Katharina was telling her story, the brave and strenuous youth
had set himself the problem of rescuing the cloistered sisters. The
greater the danger its solution might involve him in, the more impossible
it seemed at first sight, the more gladly, in his present mood, would he
undertake it. He stepped out into the road and closed the door behind him
with a feeling of combative energy.

It was growing dusk. Philippus must now be with Mary and, with the
leech's aid, he was resolved to get the child away from his mother's
house. Not till he felt that she was safe with Paula in Rufinus' house,
could he be free to attempt the enterprise which floated before his eyes.
On the stairs he shouted to a slave:

"My chariot with the Persian trotting horse!" and a few minutes after he
entered the little girl's room at the same time with a slave girl who
carried in a lamp. Neither Mary nor the physician observed him at first,
and he heard her say to Philippus, who sat holding her wrist between his
fingers.

"What is the matter with you this evening? Good heavens, how pale and
melancholy you look!" The lamplight fell full on his face. "Look here, I
have just made such a smart little man out of wax. . ."

She hoped to amuse the friend who was always so kin