with her husband's family. This was but natural, as she was at the head
of the Christian women of Alexandria, while the household of Porphyrius--
though the master himself had been baptized--was as thoroughly heathen as
any in Alexandria.

Karnis heard nothing of all this, for he came last of the party. Orpheus
and Agne followed next to Herse and the steward, and after them came two
slaves, carrying the lutes and pipes. Agne walked with downcast eyes, as
if she desired to avoid seeing all that surrounded her, though when
Orpheus addressed her she shyly glanced up at him and answered briefly
and timidly. They presently came out of an obscure alley by the canal
connecting Kibotus with Lake Mareotis where the Nile-boats lay at anchor.
Karnis drew a deeper breath, for here the air was clear and balmy; a
light northerly breeze brought the refreshing fragrance of the sea, and
the slender palm-trees that bordered the canal threw long shadows
mingling with the massive shade of the sycamores. The road was astir
with busy groups, birds sang in the trees, and the old musician drank in
the exciting and aromatic atmosphere of the Egyptian Spring with keen
enjoyment.

As they reached the middle of the steep bridge across the canal he
involuntarily stood still, riveted by the view of the southwest. In his
excitement he threw up his arms, his eyes glistened with moisture and
with the enthusiasm of youth, and, as was always the case when his
emotions were stirred by some glorious work of God or man, an image rose
to his mind, all unbidden--the image of his eldest son, now dead, but in
life his closest and most sympathetic comrade. He felt as though his
hand could grasp the shoulder of that son, too early snatched away, whose
gifts had far transcended those of the surviving Orpheus--as though he
too could gaze with him on the grand scene that lay before him.