think solely of regaining his sight.

Obedient to the oracle, he would go to the desert where from the
"starving sand" the radiant daylight was to rise anew for him.

There he would, at any rate, be permitted to recover the clearness of
perception and feeling which he had lost in the delirium of the dissolute
life of pleasure that he had led in the past. Pythagoras had already
forbidden the folly of spoiling the present by remorse; and he, too, did
not do this. It would have been repugnant to his genuinely Greek nature.
Instead of looking backward with peevish regret, his purpose was to look
with blithe confidence toward the future, and to do his best to render it
better and more fruitful than the months of revel which lay behind him.

He could no longer imagine a life worth living without Daphne, and the
thought that if his uncle were robbed of his wealth he would become her
support cheered his heart. If the oracle did not fulfil its promise, he
would again appeal to medical skill, and submit even to the most severe
suffering which might be imposed upon him.

The drive to the great harbour was soon over, but the boat which lay
waiting for him had a considerable distance to traverse, for the Tacheia
was no longer at the landing place, but was tacking outside the Pharos,
in order, if the warrant of arrest were issued, not to be stopped at the
channel dominated by the lighthouse. He found the slender trireme
pervaded by a restless stir. His uncle had long been expecting him with
burning impatience.

He knew, through Philippus, what duty still detained the deceived artist,
but he learned, at the same time, that his own imprisonment had been