whom he asked for, hearing Mr. Carlyon was out, was able
to give him information as to where his master had gone; so that he set
off at once.

The Palace of the Caesars was rather a labyrinth to expect to find
anybody in, but he would do his best. And so it happened, after about an
hour's search, that he came upon Cheiron alone, just as he reached
Livia's house.

Mr. Carlyon held out his hand.

"Well, John," he said, "and so we meet again."

His old pupil shook it heartily, and Cheiron, seeing that joyous light
in his eyes, raised his left penthouse with a whimsical smile.

"Got clear of the Octopus, I should imagine," he said laconically.
"Well, better late than never--Halcyone is over on the bench under the
cypress, gazing upon the Tarpeian rock; perhaps you may like to go to
her--" and he pointed in that direction.

"It is what I have come at post-haste from Venice to do, Master," John
Derringham said. "Mrs. Cricklander was kind enough to release me on
Saturday evening--she has other views, it seems!"--and he laughed with
his old boyish gayety.

"Well, I won't keep you," Cheiron answered. "Bring my little girl back
to the hotel when these gates shut. No doubt you will have enough to
talk about till then," and he smiled benignly.

"You will give us your blessing, Master?" John Derringham asked. But the
Professor growled as he turned to go on.

"She has my blessing always," he said, "and you will have it, too, if
you make her happy, but you don't deserve her, you know, John."

John Derringham drew himself up and looked straight out in front of
him--his face was moved.

"I know I do not," he said, "but I hope you believe me, Cheiron, when I
tell you that I mean to devote the rest of my life to attain that
object--and at least no man could worship her more."

"Get on with your courting then, lad!" said the Professor, pointing with
his stick in Halcyone's direction, while his wise eyes smiled. "I
suppose she will think you perfect in any case--it is her incredible
conviction!" And with this he shook his old pupil's hand again, and the
two men went their separate ways; John Derringham forgetful of even his
lame ankle as he rapidly approached his beloved.

She saw him coming--she had been thinking of him deeply in an exquisite
day-dream, and this seemed just the sequence of it, and quite natural
and yet divine.

She rose and held out both hands to him, the radiance of heaven in her
tender eyes. For she kn