," said Klea positively. "You are a man, and
perhaps you now think that so long as you were young and free to wander
about the world you would not have acted differently from him--it is
a man's privilege; but if you could look into my soul or feel with the
heart of a woman, you would think differently. Like the sand of the
desert which is blown over the meadows and turns all the fresh verdure
to a hideous brown-like a storm that transforms the blue mirror of the
sea into a crisped chaos of black whirl pools and foaming ferment, this
man's imperious audacity has cruelly troubled my peace of heart. Four
times his eyes pursued me in the processions; yesterday I still did not
recognize my danger, but to-day--I must tell you, for you are like a
father to me, and who else in the world can I confide in?--to-day I was
able to avoid his gaze, and yet all through long endless hours of the
festival I felt his eyes constantly seeking mine. I should have been
certain I was under no delusion, even if Publius Scipio--but what
business has his name on my lips?--even if the Roman had not boasted to
you of his attacks on a defenceless girl. And to think that you, you of
all others, should have become his ally! But you would not, no indeed
you would not, if you knew how I felt at the procession while I was
looking down at the ground, and knew that his very look desecrated me
like the rain that washed all the blossoms off the young vine-shoots
last year. It was just as if he were drawing a net round my heart--but,
oh! what a net! It was as if the flax on a distaff had been set on fire,
and the flames spun out into thin threads, and the meshes knotted of the
fiery yarn. I felt every thread and knot burning into my soul, and could
not cast it off nor even defend myself. Aye! you may look grieved and
shake your head, but so it was, and the scars hurt me still with a pain
I cannot utter."

"But Klea," interrupted Serapion, "you are quite beside yourself--like
one possessed. Go to the temple and pray, or, if that is of no avail, go
to Asclepios or Anubis and have the demon cast out."

"I need none of your gods!" answered the girl in great agitation. "Oh!
I wish you had left me to my fate, and that we had shared the lot of
our parents, for what threatens us here is more frightful than having
to sift gold-dust in the scorching sun, or to crush quartz in mortars.
I did not come to you to speak about the Roman, but to tell you what the
high-priest