false track. Long
and persistent effort was not in his nature, so as soon as he began to
get tired, he gave up the search and sat down again on a stone bench in
the garden of the Paneum.

Two cynic philosophers, with unkempt hair, tangled beards, and ragged
cloaks flung over their shivering bodies, sat down by him and fell into
loud and contemptuous abuse of the deference shown, 'in these days,'
to external things and vulgar joys, and of the wretched sensualists who
regarded pleasure and splendor, rather than virtue, as the aim and end
of existence. In order to be heard by the by-standers they spoke in
loud tones, and the elder of the two, flourished his knotted stick
as viciously, as though he had to defend himself against an attack.
Antinous felt much disgusted by the hideous appearance, the coarse
manners, and shrill voices of these persons, and when he rose--as the
cynics' diatribe seemed especially directed against him--they scoffed at
him as he went, mocking at his costume and his oiled and perfumed hair.
The Bithynian made no reply to this abuse. It was odious to him, but he
thought it might perhaps have amused Caesar.

He wandered on without thinking; the street in which he presently found
himself must no doubt lead to the sea, and if he could once find himself
on the shore he could not fail to make his way to Lochias. By the
time it was growing dark he was once more standing outside the little
gate-house, and there he learnt from Doris that the Roman and her son
had not yet returned.

What was he to do alone in the vast empty palace? Were not the
very slaves free to-day? Why should not he too for once enjoy life
independently and in his own way? Full of the pleasant sense of being
his own master and at liberty to walk in a road of his own choosing,
he went onwards, and when he presently passed by the stall of a
flower-seller, he began once more to think eagerly of Selene and the
nosegay, which must long since have reached her hands.

He had heard from Pollux in the morning that the steward's daughter was
being tended by Christians in a little house not far from the sea-shore;
indeed the sculptor himself had been quite excited as he told Antinous
that he himself had peeped into the lighted room and had seen her. 'A
glorious creature' he had called her, and had said that she had never
looked more beautiful than in a recumbent attitude on her bed.

Antinous recalled all this and determined to venture on an at