riptions, fragments, and
ornaments, there stood the famous reconstruction by Kennedy of the
Baths of Caracalla, which excited such interest and admiration when it
was exhibited in Berlin. Amphorae hung from the ceiling, and a litter
of curiosities strewed the rich red Turkey carpet. And of them all
there was not one which was not of the most unimpeachable authenticity,
and of the utmost rarity and value; for Kennedy, though little more
than thirty, had a European reputation in this particular branch of
research, and was, moreover, provided with that long purse which either
proves to be a fatal handicap to the student's energies, or, if his
mind is still true to its purpose, gives him an enormous advantage in
the race for fame. Kennedy had often been seduced by whim and pleasure
from his studies, but his mind was an incisive one, capable of long and
concentrated efforts which ended in sharp reactions of sensuous
languor. His handsome face, with its high, white forehead, its
aggressive nose, and its somewhat loose and sensual mouth, was a fair
index of the compromise between strength and weakness in his nature.

Of a very different type was his companion, Julius Burger. He came of
a curious blend, a German father and an Italian mother, with the robust
qualities of the North mingling strangely with the softer graces of the
South. Blue Teutonic eyes lightened his sun-browned face, and above
them rose a square, massive forehead, with a fringe of close yellow
curls lying round it. His strong, firm jaw was clean-shaven, and his
companion had frequently remarked how much it suggested those old Roman
busts which peered out from the shadows in the corners of his chamber.
Under its bluff German strength there lay always a suggestion of
Italian subtlety, but the smile was so honest, and the eyes so frank,
that one understood that this was only an indication of his ancestry,
with no actual bearing upon his character. In age and in reputation,
he was on the same level as his English companion, but his life and his
work had both been far more arduous. Twelve years before, he had come
as a poor student to Rome, and had lived ever since upon some small
endowment for research which had been awarded to him by the University
of Bonn. Painfully, slowly, and doggedly, with extraordinary tenacity
and single-mindedness, he had climbed from rung to rung of the ladder
of fame, until now he was a member of the Berlin Academy, and there w