o do so; but there was
something in her which moved him to pity or shyness, he knew not which,
and kept him quiet. He silently followed her with his eyes while she
folded her mantle and kerchief in her orderly way, and hastily gathered
together the stray, curly locks of her hair, smoothed them, and bound
them round her head.

Some one, however, must break the silence, and he gave a sigh of relief
when the girl came up to him and asked him, in a voice so husky as to
give him a fresh shock:

"Is it true that a Scythian, one of the nightwatch, has been here
already?"

Then he broke out, and it really did him good to give vent to his
repressed feelings in an angry speech:

"There again--the wisdom of slaves! The so-called Scythian brought a
message from his master.

"The captain of the night-watch--you will see--wishes to honor Alexander
with a commission."

"No, no," interrupted the girl. "They are hunting my brother down.
I thank the gods that the Scythian should have come; it shows that
Alexander is still free."

The gem-cutter clasped his bushy hair in both hands, for it seemed to
him that the room was whirling round. But his old habits still got the
better of him; he roared out with all the power of his mighty lungs:
"What is that? What do you say? What has Alexander done? Where have
you--both of you-been?" With two long strides the angry man came close
up to the terrified girl; the birds fluttered in their cages, and the
starling repeated his cries in melancholy tones. Heron stood still,
pushing his fingers through his thick gray hair, and with a sharp laugh
exclaimed: "I came away from her grave full of fresh hopes for better
days, and this is how they are fulfilled! I looked for fame, and I find
disgrace! And you, hussy! where have you spent this night--where have
you come from? I ask you once more!"

He raised his fist and shook it close in front of Melissa's eyes.

She stood before him as pale as death, and with wide-open eyes, from
which the heavy tears dropped slowly, one by one, trickling down her
cheeks as if they were tired. Heron saw them, and his rage melted. He
staggered to a seat like a drunken man, and, hiding his face in his
hands, moaned aloud, "Wretch, wretch that I am!" But his child's soft
hand was laid on his head; warm, girlish lips kissed his brow; and
Melissa whispered beseechingly: "Peace, father, peace. All may yet be
well. I have something to tell you that will make you glad too;