ing, rattling, and
roaring arose behind him. A hastily erected scaffold, which was to
support the pulleys for raising the statues, had collapsed. The damage
could be easily repaired, but the accident aroused a troubled feeling in
the architect's mind. He was a child of his time, a period when duty
commanded the prudent man to heed omens. Experience also taught him that
when such a thing happened in his work something unpleasant was apt to
occur within the circle of his friends. The veil of the future concealed
what might be in store for the beloved couple; but he resolved to keep
his eyes open on Dion's behalf and to request Archibius to do the same.

The pressure of work, however, soon silenced the sense of uneasiness. The
damage was speedily repaired, and later Gorgias, sometimes with one,
sometimes with another tablet or roll of MS. in his hand, issued the most
varied orders.

Gradually the light of this dismal day faded. Ere the night, which
threatened to bring rain and storm, closed in, he again rode on his mule
to the Bruchium to overlook the progress of the work in the various
buildings and give additional directions, for the labour was to be
continued during the night.

The north wind was now blowing so violently from the sea that it was
difficult to keep the torches and lamps lighted. The gale drove the drops
of rain into his face, and a glance northward showed him masses of black
clouds beyond the harbour and the lighthouse. This indicated a bad night,
and again the boding sense of coming misfortune stole over him. Yet he
set to work swiftly and prudently, helping with his own hands when
occasion required.

Night closed in. Not a star was visible in the sky, and the air, chilled
by the north wind, grew so cold that Gorgias at last permitted his body
slave to wrap his cloak around him. While drawing the hood over his head,
he gazed at a procession of litters and men moving towards Lochias.

Perhaps the Queen's children were returning home from some expedition.
But probably they were rather private citizens on their way to some
festival celebrating the victory; for every one now believed in a great
battle and a successful issue of the war. This was proved by the shouts
and cheers of the people, who, spite of the storm, were still moving to
and fro near the harbour.

The last of the torch-bearers had just passed Gorgias, and he had told
himself that a train of litters belonging to the royal family would not