at the first glance she felt that in this respect she
had nothing to dread. In almost every particular, Cleotos had but little
changed. His costume was but slightly different from that which he had
always been accustomed to wear; for the centurion, in view of the chance
of effecting a profitable sale, had, for that occasion, made him put on
suitable and becoming attire. The face was still youthful--the eye, as
of old, soft, expressive, and unhardened by the ferocities of the world
about him. As AEnone looked, it seemed as though the years which had
passed rolled back again, and that she was once more a girl. But it also
seemed as though something else had passed away--as though she looked
not upon a lover, but rather upon a quiet, kindhearted, innocent
friend--one who could ever be dear to her as a brother, but as nothing
else. What was it which had so flitted away that the same face could now
stir up no fire of passion, but only a friendly interest? Something, she
could not tell what; but she thanked the gods that it was so, and drew a
long breath of relief.

But it was none the less incumbent upon her, for the sake of that
present friendship and for the memory of that old regard, to cast her
protection over him. For an instant the thought flashed across her that
it would be well to purchase him, not simply for a page, but so that she
could have him in the way of kind treatment and attention until some
opportunity of restoring him to his native land might occur. But then
again was the danger that, if any great length of time should meanwhile
elapse, unconsidered trifles might lead to a recognition. No, that plan
could not be thought of. She must keep a protecting eye upon him from a
distance, and trust to the future for a safe working out of the problem.

'It cannot be,' she murmured, in answer, half to her father, half to her
own suggestion.

''Tis well,' muttered the centurion, rising with an air of displeasure
which indicated that he thought it very ill. 'I supposed that it would
be a kindness to the imperator or to yourself to give the first offer of
the man. But it matters little. The captain Polidorus will take him any
moment at a fair price.'

'You will not send him to the captain Polidorus?' exclaimed AEnone in
affright. For at once the many atrocities of that man toward his slaves
rose in her mind--how that he had slain one in a moment of passion--how
that he had deliberately beaten another to death for att