iable
old man was the husband of the blooming and youthful Sirona. Far from
feeling any remorse for his intrusion into this man's house, he yielded
entirely to the audacious humor with which his aspect filled him, and
when Phoebicius himself asked him as to whether he had not met on
his way with a fair-haired woman and a limping greyhound, he replied,
repressing his laughter with difficulty:

"Aye, indeed! I did see such a woman and her dog, but I do not think it
was lame."

"Where did you see her?" asked Phoebicius hastily. Hermas colored, for
he was obliged to tell an untruth, and it might be that he would do
Sirona an injury by giving false information. He therefore ventured
to give no decided answer, but enquired, "Has the woman committed some
crime that you are pursuing her?"

"A great one!" replied Talib, "she is my lord's wife, and--"

What she has done wrong concerns me alone,' said Phoebicius, sharply
interrupting his companion. "I hope this fellow saw better than you who
took the crying woman with a child, from Aila, for Sirona. What is your
name, boy?"

"Hermas," answered the lad. "And who are you, pray?"

The Gaul's lips were parted for an angry reply, but he suppressed it and
said, "I am the emperor's centurion, and I ask you, what did the woman
look like whom you saw, and where did you meet her?"

The soldier's fierce looks, and his captain's words showed Hermas that
the fugitive woman had nothing good to expect if she were caught, and
as he was not in the least inclined to assist her pursuers he hastily
replied, giving the reins to his audacity, "I at any rate did not meet
the person whom you seek; the woman I saw is certainly not this man's
wife, for she might very well be his granddaughter. She had gold hair,
and a rosy face, and the greyhound that followed her was called Iambe."

"Where did you meet her?" shrieked the centurion.

"In the fishing-village at the foot of the mountain," replied Hermas.
"She got into a boat, and away it went!"

"Towards the north?" asked the Gaul.

"I think so," replied Hermas, "but I do not know, for I was in a hurry,
and could not look after her."

"Then we will try to take her in Klysma," cried Phoebicius to the
Amalekite. "If only there were horses in this accursed desert!"

"It is four days' journey," said Talib considering. "And beyond Elim
there is no water before the Wells of Moses. Certainly if we could get
good dromedaries--"

"And if," interrupt