aristocratic
classmates and share many of their extravagances. Yet he had not ceased
to fulfil his duty to Didymus.

Though he sometimes turned night into day, he gave no serious cause for
reproof. Small youthful errors were willingly pardoned; for he was a
good-looking, merry young fellow, who knew how to make himself agreeable
to the entire household, even to the women.

What had befallen the poor youth that day? Didymus was filled with
compassion for him, and, though he gladly welcomed Gorgias, he gave him
to understand that the leech's absence vexed him.

But, during a long bachelor career in Alexandria, a city ever gracious
to the gifts of Bacchus, Gorgias had become familiar with attacks like
those of Philotas and their treatment, and after several jars of water
had been brought and he had been left alone a short time with the
sufferer, the philosopher secretly rejoiced that he had not summoned the
grey-haired leech into the stormy night for Gorgias led forth his pupil
with dripping hair, it is true, but in a state of rapid convalescence.

The youth's handsome face was freed from soot, but his eyes were bent
in confusion on the ground, and he sometimes pressed his hand upon his
aching brow. It needed all the old philosopher's skill in persuasion
to induce him to speak, and Philotas, before he began, begged Helena to
leave the room.

He intended to adhere strictly to the truth, though he feared that the
reckless deed into which he had suffered himself to be drawn might have
a fatal effect upon his future life.

Besides, he hoped to obtain wise counsel from the architect, to whom he
owed his speedy recovery, and whose grave, kindly manner inspired him
with confidence; and, moreover, he was so greatly indebted to Didymus
that duty required him to make a frank confession--yet he dared not
acknowledge one of the principal motives of his foolish act.

The plot into which he had been led was directed against Barine, whom
he had long imagined he loved with all the fervour of his twenty years.
But, just before he went to the fatal banquet, he had heard that the
young beauty was betrothed to Dion. This had wounded him deeply; for in
many a quiet hour it had seemed possible to win her for himself and lead
her as his wife to his home in Amphissa. He was very little younger than
she, and if his parents once saw her, they could not fail to approve his
choice. And the people in Amphissa! They would have gazed at Barine a