clearly established, and it also
was plainly proved that Agne had escaped from the garden, he desired
the slave-woman to tell her story of all that had occurred during the
absence of Karnis, promising her half a dozen stripes from the cane on
the soles of her feet for every false word she might utter. The threat
was enough to raise a howl from the Egyptian; but this Porphyries soon
put a stop to, and Sachepris, with perfect veracity, told her tale of
all that had happened till Herse's return to the vessel. The beginning
of the narrative was of no special interest, but when she was pressed to
go faster to the point she went on to say:

"And then--then my lord Constantine came to us on the ship, and the
pretty mistress laughed with him and asked him to take off his helmet,
because the pretty mistress wanted to see the cut, the great sword-cut
above his eyes, and my lord Constantine took it off."

"It is a lie!" exclaimed Gorgo.

"No, no; it is true. Sachepris does not want her feet flayed, mistress,"
cried the slave. "Ask my lord Constantine himself."

"Yes, I went on board," said Constantine. "Just as I was crossing the
ship-yard a young girl dropped her fan into the lake. I fished it out at
her request, and carried it back to her."

"Yes, that was it," cried Sachepris. "And the pretty mistress laughed
with my lord Constantine--is it not true?--and she took his helmet out
of his hand and weighed it in hers..."

"And you could stop on your way here to trifle with that child?" cried
Gorgo wrathfully. "Pah! what men will do!"

These words portended rage and intense disgust to Constantine. "Gorgo!"
he cried with a reproachful accent, but she could not control her
indignation and went on more vehemently than ever:

"You stopped--with that little hussy--on your way to me--stopped to
trifle and flirt with her! Shame! Yes, I say shame! Men are thought
lucky in being light-hearted, but, for my part, may the gods preserve me
from such luck! Trifling, whispering, caressing--a tender squeeze of the
hand--solemnly, passionately earnest!--And what next? Who dares warrant
that it will not all be repeated before the shadows are an ell long on
the shore!"

She laughed, a sharp, bitter laugh; but it was a short one. She ceased
and turned pale, for her lover's face had undergone a change that
terrified her. The scar on his forehead was purple, and his voice was
strange, harsh and hoarse as he leaned forward to bring his face on