feeling of being now utterly alone,
Hermon again landed and ordered that his uncle's harmamaxa should convey
him to the necropolis. He desired to seek peace at his mother's grave,
and to take leave of these beloved tombs.

Guided by the steward, he left them cheered and with fresh confidence in
the future, and the faithful servant's account of the energy with which
Daphne had aided the preparations for departure benefited him like a
refreshing bath.

When he was again at home, one visitor after another was announced,
who came there from the festival in the palaestra, and, in spite of
his great reluctance to receive them, he denied no one admittance, but
listened even to the ill-disposed and spiteful.

In the battle which he had commenced he must not shrink from wounds,
and he was struck by many a poisoned shaft. But, to make amends, a clear
understanding was effected between him and those whom he esteemed.

The last caller left him just before midnight.

Hermon now made many preparations for departure.

He intended to go into the desert with very little luggage, as the
oracle seemed to direct. How long a time his absence would extend could
not be estimated, and the many poor people whom he had fed and supported
must not suffer through his departure. The arrangements required to
effect this he dictated to the slave, who understood writing. He had
gained in him an extremely capable servant, and Patran expressed his
readiness to follow him into the desert; but the wry face which, sure
that the blind man could not see him, he made while saying so, seemed to
prove the contrary.

Weary, and yet too excited to find sleep, Hermon at last went to rest.

If his Myrtilus had been with him now, what would he not have had to say
to express his gratitude, to explain! How overjoyed he would have been
at the fulfilment of his wish to see him united to Daphne, at least in
heart; with what fiery ardour he would have upbraided those who believed
him capable of having appropriated what belonged to another!

But Myrtilus was no more, and who could tell whether his body had not
remained unburied, and his soul was therefore condemned to be borne
restlessly between heaven and earth, like a leaf driven by the wind?
Yet, if the earth covered him, where was the spot on which sacrifices
could be offered to his soul, his tombstone could be anointed, and he
himself remembered?

Then a doubt which had never before entered his mind suddenly