Gorgias's eyes sought the floor in deep thought. Many sick persons were
borne to the temple in the hope of cure; so Dion's appearance would cause
no special surprise. On the other hand, to have strangers carry him
through the passage seemed perilous. He himself was strong, but even the
strongest person would have found it impossible to support the heavy
burden of a grown man to the sea, for the gallery was low and of
considerable length. Still, if necessary, he would try. With the
comforting exclamation, "If your strength does not suffice, another way
will be found," he took his leave, gave Barine's maid and the wounded
man's body-slave the necessary directions, commanded the door-keeper to
admit no one save the physician, and stepped into the open air.

A little band of Ephebi were pacing to and fro before the house. Others
had flung themselves down in an open space surrounded by shrubbery in the
Paneum garden, and were drinking the choice wine which Dion's cellarer,
by his orders, had brought and was pouring out for the crowd.

It was an animated scene, for the clients of the sufferer, who, after
expressing their sympathy, had been dismissed by the porter, and
bedizened girls had joined the youths. There was no lack of jests and
laughter, and when some pretty young mother or female slave passed by
leading children, with whom the garden was a favourite playground, many a
merry word was exchanged.

Gorgias waved his hands gaily to the youths, pleased with the
cheerfulness with which the brave fellows transformed duty into a
festival, and many raised their wine-cups, shouting a joyous "Io" and
"Evoe," to drink the health of the famous artist who not long ago had
been one of themselves.