his master drove
the blood from his cheeks, and, though his voice was almost stifled by
surprise and shame, made him assail him with questions.

What great thing had he revealed? There had been reckless gaiety at every
festival of Dionysus since he had been in the artist's service, and the
slaves had indulged in the festal mirth no less freely than the masters.
To intoxicate themselves with wine, the gift of the god to whom they were
paying homage, was not only permitted, but commanded, and the juice of
the grape proved its all-equalizing power.

There had been no lack of pretty companions even for him, the bondman,
and the most beautiful of all had made eyes at his master, the tall,
slender man with the splendid black beard.

The reckless Lesbian who had favoured Hermon at the last Dionysia had
played pranks with him madly enough, but then had suddenly vanished. By
his master's orders Bias had tried to find her again, but, in spite of
honest search, in vain.

Just now he had met, as Althea's maid, the little Syrian Margula, who had
been in her company, and raced along in the procession of bacchanals in
his, Bias's, arms. True, she could not be persuaded to make a frank
confession, but he, Bias, would let his right hand wither if Hermon's
companion at the Dionysia was any other than Althea. His master would own
that he was right if he imagined her with black hair instead of red.
Plenty of people in Alexandria practised the art of dyeing, and it was
well known that Queen Arsinoe herself willingly mingled in the throng at
the Dionysia with a handsome Ephebi, who did not suspect the identity of
his companion.

This was the information which had so deeply agitated Hermon, and then
led him, after pacing to and fro a short time, to go first to Myrtilus
and then to Daphne.

He had found his friend sleeping, and though every fibre of his being
urged him to speak to him, he forced himself to leave the sufferer
undisturbed.

Yet so torturing a sense of dissatisfaction with himself, so keen a
resentment against his own adverse destiny had awaked within him, that he
could no longer endure to remain in the presence of his work, with which
he was more and more dissatisfied.

Away from the studio!

There was a gay party on board the galley of his parents' old friends.
Wine should bring him forgetfulness, too, bless him again with the sense
of joyous existence which he knew so well, and which he now seemed on the
point of l