ers were allowed to remain in their chariot.

At the inn which they had now reached Justinus got out and desired his
companion, a pale-faced man who sat sunk into a heap, to do the same;
but with a weary shake of the head he declined to move.

"Are you in pain, Narses?" asked Justinus affectionately, and Narses
briefly replied in a husky voice: "All over," and settled himself
against the cushion at the back of the chariot. He even refused
the refreshments brought out to him by the Senator's servant and
interpreter. He seemed sunk in apathy and to crave nothing but peace.

This was the senator's nephew.

With Orion's help, and armed with letters of protection and
recommendation from Amru, the senator had gained his purpose. He had
ransomed Narses, but not before the wretched man had toiled for some
time as a prisoner, first at the canal on the line of the old one
constructed by the Pharaohs, which was being restored under the Khaliff
Omar, to secure the speediest way of transporting grain from Egypt to
Arabia and afterwards in the rock-bound harbor of Aila. On the burning
shores of the Red Sea, under the fearful sun of those latitudes, Narses
was condemned to drag blocks of stone; many days had elapsed before
his uncle could trace him--and in what a state did Justinus find him at
last!

A week before he could reach him, the ex-officer of cavalry had laid
himself down in the wretched sheds for the sick provided for the
laborers; his back still bore the scars of the blows by which the
overseer had spurred the waning strength of his exhausted and suffering
victim. The fine young soldier was a wreck, broken alike in heart
and body and sunk in melancholy. Justinus had hoped to take him home
jubilant to Martina, and he had only this ruin to show her, doomed to
the grave.

The senator was glad, nevertheless, to have saved this much at any rate.
The sight of the sufferer touched him deeply, and the less Narses would
take or give, the more thankful was Justinus when he gave the faintest
sign of reviving interest.

In the course of this journey by land and water--and latterly as sharing
the senator's care of his nephew--Orion had become very dear to his
old friend; and at the risk of incurring his displeasure he had even
confessed the reasons that had prompted him to leave Memphis.

He never could cease to feel that everything good or lofty in himself
was Paula's alone; that her love ennobled and strengthened him; that to