statues of Hadrian and Sabina, and in front of them, in the middle of the
road, a horseman, who, as they approached, came trotting forward to meet
them on his tall steed. His head towered above every one else in the
road; and as she looked up at him her heart almost ceased beating, for
her eyes met those of the dreaded Egyptian; their white balls showed
plainly in his brown, lean face, and their cruel, evil sparkle had
stamped them clearly on her memory.

On her right a street turned off from the road, and saying in a low tone,
"This way," she led Diodoros, to his surprise, into the shadow. His
heart beat high. Did she, whose coy and maidenly austerity before and
after the intoxication of the dance had vouchsafed him hardly a kind look
or a clasp of the hand-did she even yearn for some tender embrace alone
and in darkness? Did the quiet, modest girl, who, since she had ceased
to be a child, had but rarely given him a few poor words, long to tell
him that which hitherto only her bright eyes and the kiss of her pure
young lips had betrayed?

He drew her more closely to him in blissful expectation; but she shyly
shrank from his touch, and before he could murmur a single word of love
she exclaimed in terror, as though the hand of the persecutor were
already laid on her: "Fly, fly! That house will give us shelter."

And she dragged him after her into the open doorway of a large building.
Scarcely had they entered the dark vestibule when the sound of hoofs was
heard, and the glare of torches dispelled the darkness outside.

"Zminis! It is he--he is following us!" she whispered, scarcely able to
speak; and her alarm was well founded, for the Egyptian had recognized
her, and supposed her companion to be Alexander. He had ridden down the