"I will remember the advice," replied Gorgias. "But six eyes are again
bent upon me for direction. There are so many important things to be
done while we waste the hours in building triumphal arches for the
defeated--trophies for an overthrow. But your uncle has just issued
orders to complete the work in the most magnificent style. The ways of
destiny and the great are dark; may the brightest sunshine illumine
yours! A prosperous journey! We shall hear, of course, when you
celebrate the wedding, and if I can I shall join you in the Hymenaeus.
Lucky fellow that you are! Now I'm summoned from over yonder! May
Castor and Pollux, and all the gods favourable to travel, Aphrodite, and
all the Loves attend your trip to Irenia, and protect you in the realm of
Eros and Hymen!"

With these words the warm-hearted man clasped his friend to his breast
for the first time. Dion cordially responded, and at last shook his hard
right hand with the exclamation:

"Farewell, then, till we meet in Irenia on the wedding day, you dear,
faithful fellow."

Then he entered the chariot which stood waiting, and Gorgias gazed after
him thoughtfully. The hyacinthine purple cloak which Dion wore that day
had not vanished from his sight when a loud crashing, rattling, and
roaring arose behind him. A hastily erected scaffold, which was to
support the pulleys for raising the statues, had collapsed. The damage
could be easily repaired, but the accident aroused a troubled feeling in
the architect's mind. He was a child of his time, a period when duty
commanded the prudent man to heed omens. Experience also taught him that
when such a thing happened in his work something unpleasant was apt to