ow the foe is down on the victim; he has not spared his
weapons, and there lies the prey dumb with pain and ignominy, cursing
his own folly.--You seem inclined for silence this evening. Shall I tell
you just how it all came about?"

"I know only too well," said Philippus.

"While I, to be sure, can only imagine it!" growled the old man. "So
long as that patrician hussy needed the poor beast of burthen she could
pet it and throw barley and dates to it. Now she is rolling in gold and
living under a sheltering roof, and hey presto, the discarded protector
is sent to the right about in no time. This mistress of the hearts of
our weak and bondage-loving sex raises this rich Adonis to fill the
place of the hapless, overgrown leech, just as the sky lets the sun rise
when the pale moon sinks behind the hills. If that is not the fact give
me the lie!"

"I only wish I could," sighed Philippus. "You have seen rightly,
wonderfully rightly--and yet, as wrongly as possible."

"Dark indeed!" said the old man quietly. "But I can see even in the
dark. The facts are certain, though you are still so blinded as not
to see their first cause. However, I am satisfied to know that your
delusion has come to so abrupt, and in my opinion so happy, an end. To
its cause--a woman, as usual--I am perfectly indifferent. Why should I
needlessly ascribe to her any worse sin than she had committed? If only
for your sake I will avoid doing so, for an honorable soul clings to
those whom it sees maligned. Still, it seems to me that it is for you
to speak, not for me. I should know you for a philosopher, without such
persistent silence; and as for myself, I am not altogether bereft of
curiosity, in spite of my eighty years."

At this Philippus hastily rose and pacing the room while he spoke, or
pausing occasionally in front of the old man, he poured out with glowing
cheeks and eager gestures, the history of his hopes and sufferings--how
Paula had filled him with fresh confidence, and had invited him to her
rooms--only to show him her whole heart; she had been strongly moved,
surprised at herself, but unable and unwilling to conceal from him the
happiness that had come into her life. She had spoken to him, her best
friend, as a burthened soul pours itself out to a priest: had confessed
all that she had felt since the funeral of the deceased Mukaukas, and
said that she felt convinced now that Orion had come to a right mind
again after his great sin.

"A