front of a small building which stood in the midst of a palm grove.

He asked where dame Hannah lived, and an old man silently pointed to the
little house on which the attention of the Christians seemed to be
concentrated. The lad's heart throbbed wildly and yet he felt anxious
and embarrassed, and he asked himself whether he had not better turn back
and return next morning when he might hope to find Selene alone.

But no! Perhaps he might even now be allowed to see her.

He modestly made his way through the throng, which had set up a song in
which he could not determine whether it was intended to express feelings
of sadness or of triumph. Now he was standing at the gate of the garden
and saw Mary the deformed girl. She was kneeling by a covered bier and
weeping bitterly. Was dame Hannah dead? No, she was alive, for at this
moment she came out of her house, leaning on an old man, pale, calm and
tearless. Both came forward, the old man uttered a short prayer and then
stooping down, lifted the sheet which covered the dead.

Antinous pushed a step forward but instantly drew two steps back--then
covering his eyes with his hand he stood as if rooted to the spot.

There was no vehement lamentation. The old man began a discourse.
All around were sounds of suppressed weeping, singing and praying but
Antinous saw and heard nothing. He had dropped his hand and never took
his eyes off the white face of the dead till Hannah once more covered it
with the sheet. Even then he did not stir.

It was not till six young girls lifted Selene's modest bier and four
matrons took up that of little Helios on their shoulders and the whole