thousand, ten
thousand solidi. I turned my back upon her and opened the door. Then
the sly puss said, 'I know that Kallistratos is indignant because he
expected an adventure, and only found a money-affair. He is a Greek,
and loves beauty; he burns with curiosity to see my mistress.' This
was so true, that I could only smile. 'Well,' she said, 'you shall see
her, and then I will renew my last offer. Should you still refuse, at
least you will have had the advantage of satisfying your curiosity.
To-morrow, at the eighth hour, the litter will come again. Then be
ready with your Ares.' And she slipped away. I cannot deny that my
curiosity was aroused. Quite decided not to give up my Ares, and yet to
see this beauteous art-enthusiast, I waited impatiently for the
appointed hour. It came, and with it the litter. I stood watching at my
open door. The slave descended. 'Come,' she called to me, 'you shall
see her.' Trembling with excitement, I stepped forward, the curtain
fell, and I saw----"

"Well?" cried Marcus, bending forward, his cup in his hand.

"What I shall never again forget! a face, friends, of unimagined
beauty. Cypris and Artemis in one! I was dazzled. But I hurried back,
lifted the Ares from its niche, gave it to the Punic slave, refused her
money, and staggered into my house as confused as if I had seen a
wood-nymph."

"Well, that is wonderful," laughed Massurius; "you are else no novice
in the works of Eros."

"But," asked Cethegus, "how do you know that your charmer was a Goth?"

"She had dark-red hair, and a milk-white skin, and black eyebrows."

"Oh, ye gods!" thought Cethegus. But he was silent and waited. No one
present uttered the name. "They do not know her.--And when was this?"
he asked his host.

"During the last calendars."

"Quite right," thought Cethegus. "She came at that time from Tarentum
through Rome to Ravenna. She rested here for three days."

"And so," said Piso, laughing, "you gave your Ares for a look at a
beautiful woman! A bad bargain! This time, Mercury and Venus were
allies. Poor Kallistratos!"

"Oh," said Kallistratos, "the bust was not worth so very much. It was
modern work. Ion of Neapolis made it three years, ago. But I tell you,
I would give a Phidias for such a look."

"An ideal head?" asked Cethegus indifferently, and lifted admiringly
the bronze mixing-vase which stood before him.

"No; the model was a barbarian--some Gothic earl or other--Watichis or
Witichas--wh