his dangerous path."

Lastly, he turned to the prisoners to explain that they would be
conducted to the adjacent barracks of the Diadochi, and spend the night
there.

Early the next morning they should be examined, and, if they could clear
themselves from the suspicion of belonging to the ranks of the
conspirators, released.

Daphne again pleaded for the liberation of the prisoners, but Philippus
silenced her with the grave exclamation, "The order of the King!"

The old commander offered no objection to her wish to accompany Hermon to
prison. Daphne now slipped her arm through her cousin's, and commanded
the steward Gras, who had brought her here, to follow them.

The goal of the nocturnal walk, which was close at hand, was reached at
the end of a few minutes, and the prisoners were delivered to the
commander of the Diadochi. This kindly disposed officer had served under
Hermon's father, and when the names of the prisoners were given, and the
officer reported to him that General Philippus recommended them to his
care as innocent men, he had a special room opened for the sculptor and
his fair guide, and ordered Crates to enter another.

He could permit the beautiful daughter of the honoured Archias to remain
with Hermon for half an hour, then he must beg her to allow herself to be
escorted to her home, as the barracks were closed at that time.

As soon as the captive artist was alone with the woman he loved, he
clasped her hand, pouring forth incoherent words of the most ardent
gratitude, and when he felt her warmly return the pressure, he could not
restrain the desire to clasp her to his heart. For the first time his
lips met hers, he confessed his love, and that he had just regarded death
as a deliverer; but his life was now gaining new charm through her
affection.

Then Daphne herself threw her arms around his neck with fervent devotion.

The love that resistlessly drew his heart to her was returned with equal
strength and ardour. In spite of his deep mental distress, he could have
shouted aloud in his delight and gratitude. He might now have been
permitted to bind forever to his life the woman who had just rescued him
from the greatest danger, but the confession he must make to his
fellow-artists in the palaestra the following morning still sealed his
lips. Yet in this hour he felt that he was united to her, and ought not
to conceal what awaited him; so, obeying a strong impulse, he exclaimed:
"You know tha