ning, added
to her own alteration by dress, and the certainty that he would not
expect to meet her thus, found a sure protection against recognition, as
long as she took care not to risk betrayal by her voice or manner. And,
perhaps, after all--and her heart lightened somewhat at the thought--it
might be that her reason had too freely yielded to an insane fancy, and
allowed her to be deceived by a chance resemblance.

'How is he called?' she inquired, disguising her voice as thoroughly as
she could. The instant she had spoken she would have retracted her
words, if possible, from the mere fear lest her father, in his response,
might mention her name. But it luckily chanced that the centurion did
not do so.

'How is he called? Nay, that thing I had not thought to ask as yet. Your
name, slave?'

'Cleotos.'

At the word, the blood again flew back to her heart. There could now no
longer be a doubt. How often had she repeated that name endearingly, in
those early days of her first romance in life!

'Cleotos,' said the centurion. 'It is a brave name. There was once a
leader of a full phalanx with that name, and he did well to the empire.
It is, therefore, scarcely a name for a slave to bear. But we will talk
some other time about that. It is of thine appearance now, that we will
speak. Is he not, after all, a pleasing youth? Did Tisiphon so surely
deceive me as he intended, when he gave the man to me? See! there is but
little brawn and muscle to him, I grant; and therefore he will not make
a good gladiator or even spearman; but he has a comely shape, which will
fit him well for a page or palace usher. And, therefore, I will sell him
for such. He should bring a good price, indeed, when the marks of his
toil and sickness have gone off from him, and he has been fattened into
better condition. But two of them!' continued the centurion, suddenly
recurring to his former source of grief. 'How can I fatten him when
there are two of them? How find bread for both? And yet he is not so
very thin, now. I will light a lamp, daughter, for it has grown quite
dark, and you shall come nearer and examine him.'

'Nay! nay!' exclaimed AEnone, in hurried resistance of this new danger.
'Not now. I am no judge of the merits of captives, and it is getting
late. I know that my lord will be expecting me, and perchance will be
vexed if I delay.'

'Be it so, then,' responded the other. 'And as it is dark, it is not
befitting that you should go w