ound out that the streets were clear; their mutual fears
groundless.... What meant that black knot of men some two hundred yards
off, hanging about the mouth of the side street, just opposite the
door which led to her lecture-room? He moved to watch them: they had
vanished. He lay down again and waited.... There they were again. It was
a suspicious post. That street ran along the back of the Caesareum, a
favourite haunt of monks, communicating by innumerable entries and back
buildings with the great Church itself.... And yet, why should there
not be a knot of monks there? What more common in every street of
Alexandria? He tried to laugh away his own fears. And yet they ripened,
by the very intensity of thinking on them, into certainty. He knew that
something terrible was at hand. More than once he looked out from his
hiding-place--the knot of men were still there;.... it seemed to have
increased, to draw nearer. If they found him, what would they not
suspect? What did he care? He would die for her, if it came to that--not
that it could come to that: but still he must speak to her--he must warn
her. Passenger after passenger, carriage after carriage passed along the
street: student after student entered the lecture-room; but he never saw
them, not though they passed him close. The sun rose higher and higher,
and turned his whole blaze upon the corner where Philammon crouched,
till the pavement scorched like hot iron, and his eyes were dazzled by
the blinding glare: but he never heeded it. His whole heart, and sense,
and sight, were riveted upon that well-known door, expecting it to
open....

At last a curricle, glittering with silver, rattled round the corner
and stopped opposite him. She must becoming now. The crowd had vanished.
Perhaps it was, after all, a fancy of his own. No; there they were,
peeping round the corner, close to the lecture-room--the hell-hounds! A
slave brought out an embroidered cushion--and then Hypatia herself
came forth, looking more glorious than ever; her lips set in a sad firm
smile; her eyes uplifted, inquiring, eager, and yet gentle, dimmed by
some great inward awe, as if her soul was far away aloft, and face to
face with God.

In a moment he sprang up to her, caught her robe convulsively, threw
himself on his knees before her--

'Stop! Stay! You are going to destruction!'

Calmly she looked down upon him.

'Accomplice of witches! Would you make of Theon's daughter a traitor
like yours