were clean forgot. I should go out an unknown man from the little
cell of a temple, I should do my work, and then, whether I took
freedom with me, or whether I came down at last myself on a pile of
slain, these people would guess without being told the name, that
here was Deucalion. Gods! what a fight we would have made!

But the door did not open wide to give me space for my first
rush. It creaked gratingly outwards on its pivots, and a slim hand
and a white arm slipped inside, beckoning me to quietude. Here was
some woman. The door creaked wider, and she came inside.

"Nais," I said.

"Silence, or they will hear you, and remember. At present
those who brought you here are killed, and unless by chance some
one blunders into this robbed shrine, you will not be found."

"Then, if that is so, let me go out and walk amongst these
people as one of themselves."

She shook her head.

"But, Nais, I am not known here. I am merely a man in very
plain and mud-stained robe. I should be in no ways remarkable."

A smile twitched her face. "My lord," she said, "wears no
beard; and his is the only clean chin in the camp."

I joined in her laugh. "A pest on my want of foppishness
then. But I am forgetting somewhat. It comes to my mind that we