o her
relatives that, no matter what tales rumour might bring, she and her
mother were unhurt. Dion had received a wound in the shoulder, but it
was not serious. Her grandparents need have no anxiety; the attack had
completely failed.

Doris, who was deaf, had listened vainly, holding her hand to her ear,
to catch this report; and Didymus now told his granddaughter as much as
he deemed it advisable for her to know, that she might communicate it to
her grandmother, who understood the movements of her lips.

The old man was rejoiced to learn that his granddaughter had escaped so
great a peril uninjured, yet he was still burdened by sore anxiety. The
architect, too, feared the worst, but by dint of assuring him that he
would return at once with full details when he had ascertained the fate
of Dion and his betrothed bride, he finally persuaded the old man to
give up the night walk through the tempest.

Philotas, with tears in his eyes, begged them to accept his services
as messenger or for any other purpose; but Didymus ordered him to go
to bed. An opportunity would be found to enable him to atone for the
offence so recklessly committed.

The scholar's peaceful home was deprived of its nocturnal repose, and
when Gorgias had gone and Didymus had refused Helena's request to have
the aged porter take her to her sister, the old man remained alone with
his wife in the tablinum.

She had been told nothing except that thieves had attacked her
granddaughter, Barine, and slightly wounded her lover; but her own heart
and the manner of the husband, at whose side she had grown grey, showed
that many things were being concealed. She longed to know the story more
fully, but it was difficult for Didymus to talk a long time in a loud
tone, so she silenced her desire to learn the whole truth. But, in order
to await the architect's report, they did not go to rest.

Didymus had sunk into an armchair, and Doris sat near at her spindle,
but without drawing any threads from her distaff. When she heard her
husband sigh and saw him bury his face in his hands, she limped nearer
to him, difficult as it was for her to move, and stroked his head, now
nearly bald, with her hand. Then she uttered soothing words, and, as the
anxious, troubled expression did not yet pass from his wrinkled face,
she reminded him in faltering yet tender tones how often they had
thought they must despair, and yet everything had resulted well.

"Ah! husband," she adde