was exactly suited to arrest his
attention, for after the first few sentences he perceived behind the
thorny acacias in the "garden" his countrywoman Ledscha.

So she was keeping her promise. He recognised her plainly, in spite of
the veil which covered the back of her head and the lower portion of her
face. Her black eyes were visible, and what a sinister light shone in
them as she fixed them sometimes on Daphne, sometimes on Hermon, who
stood talking together by the steps!

The evening before Bias had caught a glimpse of this passionate
creature's agitated soul. If anything happened here that incensed or
wounded her she would be capable of committing some unprecedented act
before the very master's honoured guest.

To prevent this was a duty to the master whom he loved, and against whom
he had only warned Ledscha because he was reluctant to see a free maiden
of his own race placed on a level with the venal Alexandrian models,
but still more because any serious love affair between Hermon and the
Biamite might bring disastrous consequences upon both, and therefore
also on himself. He knew that the free men of his little nation would
not suffer an insult offered by a Greek to a virgin daughter of their
lineage to pass unavenged.

True, in his bondage he had by no means remained free from all the bad
qualities of slaves, but he was faithfully devoted to his master, who
had imposed upon him a great debt of gratitude; for though, during the
trying period of variance with his rich and generous uncle, Hermon had
often been offered so large a sum for him that it would have relieved
the artist from want, he could not be induced to yield his "wise and
faithful Bias" to another. The slave had sworn to himself that he would
never forget this, and he kept his oath.

Freedmen and slaves were moving to and fro in the large open square
before him, amid the barking of the dogs and the shouts of the male and
female venders of fruit, vegetables, and fish, who hoped to dispose of
their wares in the kitchen tent of the wealthy strangers.

The single veiled woman attracted no attention here, but Bias kept his
gaze fixed steadily upon her, and as she curved her little slender hand
above her brow to shade her watchful eyes from the dazzling sunlight,
and set her beautifully arched foot on a stone near one of the trees in
order to gain a better view, he thought of the story of the weaver which
he had just heard.

Though the stillness of