nd, love-sick boy, be sure she does not fascinate
thee that thou be so transfixed to her side that passers-by think they
see two statues by Scopas, dressed by some wanton wit to imitate the
life.'

'Ah, Nika, thou wert always merry; would thou wert as tender-hearted as
humorous. I obey thee.'

And leaving her, he passed out, and saw Saronia--saw her leaning, tired
and thoughtful, against a pillar, and around its base were richly carved
in strong relief the stories of the gods. Stepping towards her, he said:

'Sleepest thou, or art thou thinking of thy far-away Sidon, or perchance
peering into the future to divine thy fortune? What are the omens? Have
fair ones passed thee as thou standest here?'

'Nay, good sire, I was thinking of neither the past nor the future, but
of the present. I know I am but a slave, a thing who has no right to
speak or move or scarcely think without my mistress's bidding.'

'I pity thee, and have tried to befriend thee.'

'Thou art kind, but it will serve me little; they hate me--they all hate
me, and make my life a misery--but it will not ever be thus. Just now a
woman of peculiar mien stood before me--a woman skilled, she told me, in
the mysteries of fate. Looking at me, she said my star was rising full
of splendour, and would lead me by its power into a knowledge deep and
high--deep as death, high as the heavens. Think you, master, there be
any truth in such woman's talk?'

'I cannot say, Saronia. Of those hidden things I am not given to
understand. I lean towards the new faith, whose founder is one Christ.
Of Him I know little, but 'tis said He is both God and man. What
thinkest thou of this?'

'I know not what to think. I do not know the faith, neither does it seem
to rise for a hearing in my soul. No; born within me is the faith of
Ashtoreth, and as it seems akin to much that is worshipped here, I think
I should feel more at home were I to understand the mysteries of Hecate
and worship at her shrine.'

'Thou dost not know what thou askest, Saronia. The way to those
mysteries is dark and to thee impenetrable. Thou art too good to load
thy spirit with such things of gloom, too young to sacrifice thee there.
Around her darkness hovers--night, everlasting night, abides. I have
heard those who know say this. Are there no brighter hopes for thee? If
not, slave art thou indeed--slave in body, slave in soul.'

'True,' said the girl. 'Slaves are we either in body or spirit,
whomsoever w