er, while his hand went
to the hilt of his knife.

"Strangers?"

"There was one here but now," Perpetua answered, "a fugitive from the
city, whose coming troubled me. He said the world was as wicked as a
sick dream, and my heart grew cold in the sunshine."

The lines on Theron's face deepened dangerously. "Had I been by I would
have twitched his tongue out," he said, fiercely. Perpetua pressed her
hand upon his lips.

"No, father, you could not have touched him, for he was deformed and
twisted--a hideous, helpless thing."

Theron stamped his foot upon the ground. "I set my heel upon a
scorpion!" he cried. Perpetua shook her head.

"I am sorry for the things that are made to bite and sting. Let us think
no more of it. Tell me of the Golden Age, father, when heroes roamed
through the world, beautiful youths with eyes like mountain lakes."

Theron turned moodily from his daughter, and, going to the edge of the
hill, looked down upon the distant city.

"The Golden Age is over long ago," he said, gloomily, "and we have come
to the end of time."

Perpetua saw that her father was agitated, and wondered why the passing
of Diogenes should move him so much. She yearned to tell him her sweet
secret of the other comer, the beautiful hunter with the bright eyes and
the bright hair, yet when she strove to speak words seemed to be denied
her. In all the years of her young life, in all the years of love for
her father, and of a friendship, a comradeship wellnigh more wonderful
than love, there had been no secret shut in her heart from him. Now
there was, and it seemed as if she could not set it free. While she
hesitated, Theron turned to her again, and asked, abruptly, "Was this
the only intruder to-day?"

Perpetua felt her cheeks burn as she answered, "Ay," but Theron did not
notice her confusion, for he was again gazing down upon the city, and,
though he questioned anew, his voice was listless.

"I thought you said strangers?"

"There has been no one else to-day," Perpetua answered. She purposely
set some stress on the last word, that her father might, if he chose,
make further question, but he seemed to be absorbed in heavy thoughts.
He turned from his view of the city and came to her with a grave face.

"There will be others," he said. "The new King--"

"Robert the Bad?" Perpetua interrupted.

Theron stared at her. "Where did you learn that?"

"The withered fool called the King so."

"The fool yelped wisdom,"