died, quite young, shortly after Paula's
birth.

Both these servants had been parted from her. Perpetua, the nurse, had
been found useful by the governor's wife, who soon discovered that size
was particularly skilled in weaving and who had made her superintendent
of the slave-girls employed at the loom; the old woman had willingly
undertaken the duties though she herself was free-born, for her first
point in life was to remain near her beloved foster-child. Hiram
too, the groom, and his son had found their place among the Mukaukas'
household; in the first instance to take charge of the five horses
from her father's stable which had brought the fugitives to Egypt, but
afterwards--for the governor was not slow to discern his skill in
such matters--as a leech for all sorts of beasts, and as an adviser is
purchasing horses.

Paula wanted to speak with them both, and she knew exactly where to find
them; but she could not get to them without exposing herself to much
that was unpleasant, for the governor's free retainers and their
friends, not to mention the guard of soldiers who, now that the gates
were closed, were still sitting in parties to gossip; they would
certainly not break up for some time yet, since the slaves were only now
bringing out the soldiers' supper.

The clatter in the court-yard was unceasing, for every one who was free
to come out was enjoying the coolness of the night. Among them there
were no slaves; these had been sent to their quarters when the gates
were shut; but even in their dwellings voices were still audible.

With a beating heart Paula tried to see and hear all that came within
the ken of her keen eyes and ears. The growing moon lighted up half the
enclosure, the rest, so far as the shadow fell, lay in darkness. But in
the middle of a large semi-circle of free servants a fire was blazing,
throwing a fitful light on their brown faces; and now and again, as
fresh pine-cones were thrown in, it flared up and illuminated even the
darker half of the space before her. This added to her trepidation;
she had to cross the court-yard, as she hoped, unseen; for innocent and
natural as her proceedings were, she knew that her uncle's wife would
put a wrong construction on her nocturnal expedition.

At first Neforis had begged her husband to assist Paula in her search
for her father, of whose death no one had any positive assurance. But
his wife's urgency had not been needed: the Mukaukas, of his own fr