nt and his large head was bowed as though he were forever seeking
something. His face was pale and colorless, with a well-formed nose
and mouth, but not of classic mold. Blue veins showed through the clear
white skin, and the long, silky, silvery hair still flowed in unthinned
waves round his massive head, bald only on the crown. A snowy beard fell
over his breast. His aged form was wrapped in a long and ample robe
of costly white woolen stuff, and his whole appearance would have been
striking for its peculiar refinement, even if the eyes had not sparkled
with such vivid and piercing keenness from under the thick brows, and if
the high, smooth, slightly prominent forehead had not borne witness to
the power and profundity of his mind. Melissa knew of no one with whom
to compare him; he reminded Andreas of the picture of John as an old
man, which a wealthy fellow-Christian had presented to the church of
Saint Mark.

If this man could do nothing, there was no help on earth. And how
dignified and self-possessed were the movements of this bent old man as
he leaned on his staff! He, a stranger here, seemed to be showing the
others the way, a guide in his own realm. Melissa had heard that the
strong scent of the kyphi might prove injurious to Diodoros, and her one
thought now was the desire that Galenus might soon approach his couch.
He did not, in fact, begin with the sick nearest to the door, but stood
awhile in the middle of the hall, leaning against a column and surveying
the place and the beds.

When his searching glance rested on that where Diodoros was lying, an
answering look met his with reverent entreaty from a pair of beautiful,
large, innocent eyes. A smile parted his bearded lips, and going up to
the girl he said: "Where beauty bids, even age must obey. Your lover,
child, or your brother?"

"My betrothed," Melissa hastened to reply; and the maidenly
embarrassment which flushed her cheek became her so well that he added:

"He must have much to recommend him if I allow him to carry you off,
fair maid."

With these words he went up to the couch, and looking at Diodoros as he
lay, he murmured, as if speaking to himself and without paying any heed
to the younger men who crowded round him:

"There are no true Greeks left here; but the beauty of the ancestral
race is not easily stamped out, and is still to be seen in their
descendants. What a head, what features, and what hair!"

Then he felt the lad's breast, sh