tantly near her
and with her, the struggle must wear me out--I should perish, body and
soul. The same place, the same city, cannot hold her and me."

"Then she must make way for you," croaked Horus. Philippus raised his
bowed head and asked, in some surprise and with stern reproof:

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," replied the other airily. He shrugged his shoulders and went
on more gently: "Memphis has greater need of you than of the patrician
hussy." Then he shook himself as if he were cold, struck his breast and
added: "All is turmoil here within; I can neither help nor advise you.
Day must soon be dawning in the east; we will try to sleep. A knot can
often be untied by daylight which by lamplight seems inextricable, and
perhaps on my sleepless couch the goddess may reveal to me the way I
have promised to show you. A little more lightness of heart would do
neither of us any harm.--Try to forget your own griefs in those of
others; you see enough of them every day. To wish you a good night would
probably be waste of words, but I may wish you a soothing one, You may
count on my aid; but you will not let me, a poor old man, hear another
word about flight and departure and the like, will you? No, no. I know
you better, Philippus--you will never treat your lonely old friend so!"

These were the tenderest words that the leech had ever heard from the
old man's lips, and it comforted him when Horapollo pressed him to his
heart in a hasty embrace. He thought no more of the hint that it was
Paula's part to make room for him. But the old man had spoken in all
seriousness, for, no sooner was he alone than he petulantly flung down
the ivory ruler on the table, and murmured, at first angrily and then
scornfully, his eyes sparkling the while:

"For this true heart, and to preserve myself and the world from losing
such a man, I would send a dozen such born hussies to Amentis--[The
Nether world of the ancient Egyptians.]--Hey, hey! My beauty! So this
noble leech is not good enough for the like of us; he may be tossed away
like a date-stone that we spit out? Well, every one to his taste;
but how would it be if old Horapollo taught us his value? Wait a bit,
wait!--With a definite aim before my eyes I have never yet failed to
find my way--in the realm of science, of course; but what is life--the
life of the sage but applied knowledge? And why should not old
Horapollo, for once before he dies, try what his brains can contrive t