t demeanor of the
stout steward, on an occasion which had prompted him and all concerned
to act as quickly and energetically as possible, had brought words to
his lips which he now wished that he had never spoken. It is true that
the steward's false pride had roused his indignation, and who can listen
calmly to any comment on a stain on his birth? But the appeal of this
miserable father's daughter had gone to his heart. He pitied the fatuous
simpleton whom, with a turn of his hand, he could reduce to beggary, and
who had evidently been far more deeply hurt by his words than Pontius
had been by what he had overheard, and so he followed the kindly impulse
of a noble nature to spare the unfortunate.

He rapped loudly with his knuckles on the inside of the door-post of the
ante-room, coughed loudly, and then said, bowing deeply to the steward
on the threshold of the sitting-room:

"Noble Keraunus--I have come, as beseems me, to pay you my respects.
Excuse the lateness of the hour, but you can scarcely imagine how busy I
have been since we parted."

Keraunus had at first started at the late visitor, then he stared at him
in consternation. He now went towards him, stretched out both hands as
if suddenly relieved of a nightmare, and a bright expression of such
warm and sincere satisfaction overspread his countenance that Pontius
wondered how he could have failed to observe what a well-cut face this
fat original had.

"Take a seat at our humble table," said Keraunus. "Go Selene and call
the slaves. Perhaps there is yet a pheasant in the house, a roast fowl
or something of the kind--but the hour, it is true, is late."

"I am deeply obliged to you," replied the architect, smiling. "My supper
is waiting for me in the hall of the Muses, and I must return to my
work-people. I should be grateful to you if you would accompany me. We
must consult together as to the lighting of the rooms, and such matters
are best discussed over a succulent roast and a flask of wine."

"I am quite at your service," said Keraunus with a bow.

"I will go on ahead," said the architect, "but first will you have the
goodness to give all that you have in the way of cressets, lights and
lamps to the slaves, who, in a few minutes, shall await your orders at
your door."

When Pontius had departed, Selene exclaimed with a deep sigh

"Oh! what a fright I have had! I will go now and find the lamps. How
terribly it might have ended."

"It is well that he