gh-roads the
wayfarer walked in the midst of dense white clouds raised by his feet,
and if a chariot, or a horseman galloped down the scorching street,
fine, grey sand at once filled the air, compelling the foot-passengers
to shut their eyes and lips.

The town was so silent, so empty, so deserted! No one came out of doors
unless under pressure of business or piety. Every house was a furnace,
and even a bath brought no refreshment, for the water had long since
ceased to be cold. A disease had also attacked the ripening dates as
they hung; they dropped off in thousands from the heavy clusters under
the beautiful bending crown of leaves; and now for two days hundreds
of dead fish had been left on the banks. Even the scaly natives of the
river were plague-stricken; and the physician explained to his friend
that this brought the inhabitants a fresh danger; for who could clear
the shores of the dead fish?--And, in such heat, how soon they would
become putrid!

The old man did not conceal from himself that it was hard, cruelly hard,
for the physician to follow his calling conscientiously at such a time;
but he knew his friend; he had seen him during months of pestilence two
years since--always brisk, decisive and gay, indeed inspired to greater
effort by the greater demands on him. What had so completely altered
him, had poisoned and vexed his soul as with a malignant spell? It was
not the almost superhuman sacrifices required by his duties;--it came
of the unfortunate infatuation of his heart, of which he could not rid
himself.

Philippus had kept his promise. He went every day to the house of
Rufinus, and every day he saw Paula; but, as a murdered body bleeds
afresh in the presence of the assassin, so every day the old pain
revived when he was forced to meet her and speak with her. The only cure
for this particular sufferer was to remove the cause of his pain: that
is to say, to take Paula away out of his path; and this the old man made
his care and duty.

Little Mary and the other patients under Rufinus' roof were on the way
to recovery; still there was much to cast gloomy shadows over this happy
termination. Joanna and Pulcheria were very anxious as to the fate
of Rufinus. No news had been received of him or of the sisters, and
Philippus was the vessel into which the forsaken wife and Pulcheria--who
looked up to him as to a kind, faithful, and all-powerful protecting
spirit-poured all their sorrows, cares, and fears.