"I was thrown down," answered Selene, drying her eyes.

"Thrown down! by whom?" asked the steward, slowly rising.

"By the architect's big dog--the architect who came last night from Rome,
and to whom we gave that meat and salt in the middle of the night. He
slept here, at Lochias."

"And he set his clog on my child!" shouted Keraunus, with an angry glare.

"The hound was alone in the passage when I went there."

"Did it bite you?"

"No, but it pulled me down, and stood over me, and gnashed its teeth--oh!
it was horrible."

"The cursed, vagabond scoundrel!" growled the steward, "I will teach him
how to behave in a strange house!"

"Let him be," said Selene, as she saw her father about to don the saffron
cloak.

"What is done cannot be undone, and if quarrels and dissentions come of
it, it will make you ill."

"Vagabonds! impudent rascals! who fill my palace with quarrelsome curs,"
muttered Keraunus without listening to his daughter, and as he settled
the folds of his pallium he growled "Arsinoe! why is it that girl never
hears me."