of vision until he secured accurate information concerning the statue of
Demeter? Like a dark cloud, which sweeps over the starry sky and
prevents the astronomer from seeing the planets which he desires to
observe, the fear that Proclus's praise had been bestowed upon the work
of Myrtilus stood between him and every goal of his thought.

Only the fact that he still remained blind, and not even the faintest
glimmer of light pierced the surrounding darkness, while the sun
continued its course with glowing radiance, and that, blinded and
beggared, he must despise himself if he sought to win Daphne, was
certain. No reflection could alter it.

Again the peace of mind which he thought he had regained during slumber
was destroyed. Fear of the artisan's statement even rendered it
impossible to pray to his mother with the affectionate devotion he had
felt the day before.

The goldsmith had directed the rescue of the Demeter, yet he would
scarcely have been able to distinguish it from the statue by Myrtilus;
for though, like his friend, he had often employed his skilful hands in
the arrangement of the gold plates at the commencement of the work, the
Egyptian had been summoned to Tennis before the statues had attained
recognisable form. He had not entered the studios for several months,
unless Bias had granted him admittance without informing his master.
This was quite possible, for the slave's keen eyes certainly had not
failed to notice how little he and Myrtilus valued the opinion of the
honest, skilful, but extremely practical and unimaginative man, who could
not create independently even the smallest detail.

So it was impossible to determine at present whether Chello had seen the