I gain? That people should say, after I am dead, 'Erotion the
Saguntine made this.' I should not hear it--after having spent my life
working and suffering. No; let us live and love. That day I kicked the
statue to pieces, and I embraced Rhanto with an enthusiasm of joy.
Loving each other is better than wasting time over clay puppets. Is not
that so, Rhanto?"

They kissed each other again, heedless of the presence of the Greek.
Actaeon observed a transformation in the pair, both in the frank devotion
of the boy, and in the glow in the eyes of the shepherdess. The ardor of
love seemed to have made him more manly, and to have given her a suave
and tender grace, a sweet abandon which she had lacked before.

"I have forgotten art, and now we are happy," continued the boy. "It
would have been madness to have run off to Greece, leaving here a
treasure which I had not fully appreciated. We spend our time wandering
through the fields; we know mysterious corners in the groves sheltered
by curtains of leaves, dark and perfumed hiding places which even
Sonnica the rich might envy us. When we are hungry we milk Rhanto's
goats and we rob a beehive; we climb trees in search of fruit; this is
the glorious season of the year; the whole champaign is full of
cherries."

He suddenly ceased speaking, fearing lest he had said too much. Perhaps
Rhanto reproved him with a nudge. Then he added, in a supplicating tone:

"You are good, Athenian. Rhanto and I have looked upon you as an elder
brother since that day we met you on the Road of the Serpent. Do not say
anything to my father, nor to Sonnica. Let us be happy in this life of
ours, which is worthy of the gods."

Actaeon envied the felicity of these care-free youths, who loved each
other frankly, living beneath the trees, strong and beautiful as wild
creatures who had no thoughts beyond their companionship.

"Saguntum is about to be attacked. War is at our gates. Did you not know
it?"

"We have not heard of it," said Erotion, with a scornful gesture. "I am
interested in nothing but Rhanto."

"Are you not interested in the fate of your city?"

"I am more interested in the kisses of my shepherdess. As long as there
be love, sunshine, and fruits, what does the rest of the world matter to
me?"

"Have you no thought for your country, you truant?"

"Just now I have no thought for anything but these cherries, and for
these red lips which are as fresh as they."

They parted, and Actae