never before
experienced such."

"Relate, relate!" cried all the others.

CHAPTER X.

"With pleasure," said the host, smoothing his cushions; "although I
play no brilliant part in the story. Well, some time ago I was
returning home from the baths of Abaskanthus at about the eighth hour.
In the street I found a woman's litter, accompanied by four slaves,
who, I believe, were captive Gepidians. And exactly opposite the door
of my house stood two veiled women, their calanticas thrown over their
heads. One wore the garment of a slave, but the other was very richly
and tastefully dressed; and the little that could be seen of her figure
was divine. Such a graceful walk, such slender ankles, such an arched
instep! As I approached they entered the litter and were gone. But
I--you know that a sculptor's blood flows in the veins of every
Greek--I dreamt all night of the slender ankles and the light step. The
next day at noon, as I opened the door to go, as usual, to the
bibliographers in the Forum, I saw the same litter hurrying away. I
confess--though I am not usually vain--I thought that this time I had
made a conquest; I wished it so much. And I could no longer doubt it,
when, coming home again at the eighth hour, I saw my strange beauty,
this time unaccompanied, slip past me and hurry to her litter. I could
not follow the quick-footed slaves, so I entered my house, full of
happy thoughts. The ostiarius met me and said:

"'Sir, a veiled female slave waits in the library.'

"I hurried to the room with a beating heart. It was really the slave
whom I had seen yesterday. She threw back her mantle; a handsome
coquettish Moor or Carthaginian--I know the sort--looked at me with sly
eyes.

"'I claim the reward of a messenger, Kallistratos,' she said; 'I bring
you good news.'

"I took her hand and would have patted her cheek--for who desires to
win the mistress must kiss the slave--but she laughed and said:

"'No, not Eros; Hermes sends me. My mistress'--I listened eagerly. 'My
mistress is--a passionate lover of art. She offers you three thousand
solidi for the bust of Ares which stands in the niche at the door of
your house.'"

The young guests laughed loudly, Cethegus joining in their merriment.

"Well, laugh away!" continued the host, smiling; "but I assure you I
did not laugh. My dreams were dashed to pieces, and I said, greatly
vexed, 'I do not sell my busts.' The slave offered five