ret conversation under the shade of the
dense foliage of the sycamore. That was easily perceived, and in an
instant Ledscha's fear yielded to a different feeling.

Holding her breath, she nestled close to the trunk of the ancient tree
to listen, and the first word she heard was the name "Nemesis," which
had just reached her from the tent.

She knew its meaning, for Tennis also had a little temple dedicated to
the terrible goddess, which was visited by the Egyptians and Biamites as
well as the Greeks.

A triumphant smile flitted over her unveiled features, for there was no
other divinity on whose aid she could more confidently rely. She could
unchain the vengeance which threatened Hermon with a far more terrible
danger than the thunder clouds above, under the protection--nay, as it
were at the behest of Nemesis.

To-morrow she would be the first to anoint her altar.

Now she rejoiced that her wealthy father imposed no restriction upon her
in the management of household affairs, for she need spare no expense in
choosing the animal she intended to offer as a sacrifice.

This reflection flashed through her mind with the speed of lightning
while she was listening to Althea's conversation with the sculptor.

"The question here can be no clever play upon the name and the nature
of the daughter of Erebus and Night," said the Thracian gravely. "I
will remind you that there is another Nemesis besides the just being who
drives from his stolen ease the unworthy mortal who suns himself in
good fortune. The Nemesis whom I will recall to-day, while angry Zeus
is hurling his thunderbolts, is the other, who chastises sacrilege--Ate,
the swiftest and most terrible of the Erinyes. I will invoke her wrath
upon you in this hour if you do not confess the truth to me fully and
entirely."

"Ask," Hermon interrupted in a hollow tone. "Only, you strange woman--"

"Only," she hastily broke in, "whatever the answer may be, I must
pose to you as the model for your Arachne--and perhaps it may come
to that--but first I must know, briefly and quickly, for they will be
looking for me immediately. Do you love Daphne?"

"No," he answered positively. "True, she has been dear to me from
childhood--"

"And," Althea added, completing the sentence, "you owe her father a debt
of gratitude. But that is not new to me; I know also how little reason
you gave her for loving you. Yet her heart belongs neither to Philotas,
the great lord with the little