assailed him that the rescued Demeter was the work of Myrtilus, and not
his own.

So the first question he addressed to Gras concerned the Tennis
goldsmith, and it was a keen disappointment to Hermon when he learned
that the earliest time he could expect to see him would be the following
day. The skilful artisan had been engaged for weeks upon the gold
ornaments on the new doors of the holy of holies in the Temple of Amon at
Tanis. Urgent business had called him home from the neighbouring city
just before the night of the attack; but yesterday evening he had
returned to Tanis, where his wife said he would have only two days'
work to do.

This answer, however, by no means appeased Hermon's impatience.
He commanded that a special messenger should be sent to summon the
goldsmith, and the Bithynian received the order with a slight shake
of his round head.

What new trouble had befallen the usually alert young artist that he
received this unexpected change in his situation as apathetically as a
horse which is led from one stall to another, and, instead of questioning
him, thought only of hastening his interview with the goldsmith? If his
mistress, who had left him full of anxiety from the fear that her
departure would deeply agitate the blind man, should learn how
indifferently he had received it! He, Gras, certainly would not betray
it. Eternal gods--these artists! He knew them. Their work was dearer
to their hearts than their own lives, love, or friendship.

During breakfast, of which the steward was obliged to remind him, Hermon
pondered over his fate; but how could he attain any degree of clearness