amed in the opening, showed him that he was not mistaken; it
was that of Perpetua. The sound of hoofs had roused her curiosity, but
she did not seem to recognize him in the dim starlight.

He slowly rode past, and when he presently turned back and again
looked up, in the hope this time of seeing Paula, the place was vacant:
however, he perceived a tall dark shadow moving across from one side of
the room to the other, which could not be that of the nurse nor of her
slender mistress. It must indeed be that of a remarkably big man, and
stopping to gaze with anxious and unpleasant apprehension, he plainly
recognized Philippus.

It was past midnight. How could he account for his being with Paula at
this hour?--Was she ill?--Was this room hers after all?--Was it merely
by chance that the nurse was in Rufinus' room with the physician.

No. The woman whom he could now see pass across the window and go
straight up to the man, with outstretched hands, was Paula and none
other. Isis heart was already beating fast, and now a suspicion grew
strong in him which his vanity had hitherto held in check, though he had
often seen the friendly relations that subsisted between Paula and the
leech.--Perhaps it was a warmer feeling than friendship and guileless
trust, which had led her so unreservedly to claim this man's protection
and service. Could he have won Paula's heart--Paula's love?

Was it conceivable!--But why not?

What was there against Philippus but his homely face and humble birth?
And how many a woman had he not seen set her heart on quite other
things! The physician was not more than five years his senior; and
recalling the expression in his eyes as he looked at Paula only that
morning Orion felt more and more uneasy.

Philippus loved Paula.--A trifling incident suddenly occurred to
his mind which made him certain on that point; he had only too much
experience in such matters. Yesterday, it had struck him that ever
since his father's death--that was ever since Paula's change of
residence--Philippus dressed more carefully than had been his wont. "Now
this," thought he, "is a change that does not come over so serious a man
unless it is caused by love."

A mingled torment of pain and rage shot through him as he again saw the
tall shadow cross the window. For the first time in his life he felt the
pangs of jealousy, which he had so often laughed at in his friends; but
was it not absurd to allow it to torture him; was he not