"The grotto?" repeated his wife, looking at the spot through her tears,
and thinking of the day when, as a girl, she had hurried to the feast of
Dionysus and sought her father in the temple. He had been famous as a
gem-cutter. In obedience to the time-honored tradition in Alexandria,
after intoxicating himself with new wine in honor of the god, he had
rushed out into the street to join the procession. The next morning he
had not returned; the afternoon passed and evening came and still he did
not appear, so his daughter had gone in search of him. Karnis was at
that time a young student and, as her father's lodger, had rented the
best room in the house. He had met her going on her errand and had been
very ready to help her in the search; before long they had found the old
man in the ivy-grown grotto in the grove of Dionysus--motionless and
cold, as if struck by lightning. The bystanders believed that the god
had snatched him away in his intoxicated legion.

In this hour of sorrow Karnis had proved himself her friend, and a few
months after Herse had become his wife and gone with him to Tauromenium
in Sicily.

All this rose before her mind, and even Karnis sat gazing dumbly at the
waves; for every spot where some decisive change has occurred in our
lives has power to revive the past when we see it again after a long
absence. Thus they all sat in silence till Orpheus, touching his father,
pointed out the temple of Isis where he had met the fair Gorgo on the
previous day. The old man turned to look at the sanctuary which, as yet,
remained intact.

"A barbarous structure!" he said bitterly. "The art of the Egyptians
has long been numbered with the dead and the tiger hungers only for the
living!"