ay with the great jar of burnt clay down on to the ground. The
vessel was broken.--It had cost poor Hannah many hardly-saved pieces not
long since. Selene stood on one foot, leaning, to recover herself,
against the right-hand post of the window-opening, and there she could
hear more distinctly than from her couch, the voice of the waves as they
broke on the stone quay just behind dame Hannah's little house. The child
of the Lochias was familiar with their tones, but the clashing and
gurgling of the cool, moist element against the stones had never affected
her before as they did now. Her fevered blood was on fire, her foot was
burning, her head was hot, and hatred seemed to consume her soul as in a
slow fire; she felt as if every wave that broke upon the seawall was
calling out to her: "I am cool, I am moist, I can extinguish the flame
that is consuming you. I can refresh and revive you."

What had the world to offer her but new torment and new misery? But the
sea--the blue dark sea was wide, and cold, and deep, and its waves
promised her in insidious tones to relieve her at once of the rage of her
fever, and of the burden of her life. Selene did not pause, did not
reflect; she remembered neither the children whom she had so long cared
for as a mother, nor her father, whose comfort and support she was--vague
voices in her brain seemed to be whispering to her that the world was
evil and cruel, and the abode of all the torment and care that gnawed at
her heart. She felt as if she bad been plunged to the temples in a pool
of fire, and, like some poor wretch whose garments have been caught by
the flames, she had an instinct to fly to the water, at the bottom of
which she might hope to find the fulfilment of her utmost longing, sweet
cold death, in which all is forgotten.

Groaning and tottering she pushed her way through the door into the
garden and hobbled down to the sea, grasping her temples in her hands.

CHAPTER II.

The Alexandrians were a stiff-necked generation. Only some phenomenal
sight far transcending their every-day experience could avail to make
them turn their heads to stare at it, but just now there was something to
look at, at every moment and in every street of the city. To-day too each
one thought only of himself and of his own pleasure. Some particularly
pretty, tall, or well-dressed figure would give rise to a smile or an
exclamation of approval, but before one sight had been thoroughly enjoyed