ut--and I heard him distinctly:
'Perhaps I shall return and consult your oracle.'"

"Perhaps."

"I think he said 'probably.'"

"Who knows whether some sign he has seen up in the sky may not have
turned him back; he is going to the camp by the sea."

"But the banquet is standing ready for him in our great hall."

"He will find what he needs down there. Come, it is a wretched morning,
and I am being frozen."

"Wait a little longer-look there."

"What?"

"He does not even wear a hat to cover his grey hair."

"He has never yet been seen to travel with anything on his head."

"And his grey cloak is not very imperial looking."

"He always wears the purple at a banquet."

"Do you know who his walk and appearance remind me of?"

"Who?"

"Of our late high-priest, Abibaal; he used to walk in that ponderous,
meditative way, and wear a beard like the Emperor's."

"Yes, yes--and had the same piercing grey eye."

"He too used often to gaze up at the sky. They have both the same broad
forehead, too; but Abibaal's nose was more aquiline, and his hair curled
less closely."

"And our governor's mouth was grave and dignified, while Hadrian's lips
twitch and curl at all he says and hears, as if he were laughing at it
all."

"Look, he is speaking now to his favorite--Antonius I think they call the
pretty boy."

"Antinous, not Antonius. He picked him up in Bithynia, they say."

"He is a beautiful youth."

"Incomparably beautiful! What a figure and what a face! Still, I cannot
wish that he were my son."

"The Emperor's favorite!"

"For that very reason. Why, he looks already as if he had tried every
pleasure, and could never know any farther enjoyment."

............................

On a little level close to the sea-shore, and sheltered by crumbling
cliffs from the east wind, stood a number of tents. Between them fires
were burning, round which were gathered groups of Roman soldiers and
imperial servants. Half-naked boys, the children of the fishermen and
camel-drivers who dwelt in this wilderness, were running busily hither
and thither, feeding the flames with dry stems of sea-grass and dead
desert-shrubs; but though the blaze flew high, the smoke did not rise;
but driven here and there by the squalls of wind, swirled about close to
the ground in little clouds, like a flock of scattered sheep. It seemed
as though it feared to rise in the grey, damp, uninviting atmosphere. The
largest of the tents