CHAPTER IV.

The sun of the following day had long passed its meridian when Hermon at
last woke. The steward Gras, who had grown gray in the service of
Archias, was standing beside the couch.

There was nothing in the round, beardless face of this well-fed yet
active man that could have attracted the artist, yet the quiet tones of
his deep voice recalled to memory the clear, steadfast gaze of his gray
eyes, from which so often, in former days, inviolable fidelity, sound
sense, caution, and prudence had looked forth at him.

What the blind man heard from Gras surprised him--nay, at first seemed
impossible. To sleep until the afternoon was something unprecedented for
his wakeful temperament; but what was he to say to the tidings that the
commandant of Pelusium had arrived in his state galley early in the
morning and taken his wife, Daphne, and Chrysilla away with him to
Alexandria?

Yet it sounded credible enough when the Bithynian further informed him
that the ladies had left messages of remembrance for him, and said that
Archias's ship, upon which he was, would be at his disposal for any
length of time he might desire. Gras was commissioned to attend him.
The Lady Thyone especially desired him to heed her counsel.

While the steward was communicating this startling news as calmly as if
everything was a matter of course, the events of the preceding night came
back to Hermon's memory with perfect distinctness, and again the fear