peror, and was
rewarded with the governorship of the city. His name was a word to
conjure with.

The beauty of Athenais lost nothing with the passing seasons, but grew
more perfect, even under the inexplicable shade of dissatisfaction
that sometimes veiled it. "Fair as the wife of Hermas" was a proverb
in Antioch; and soon men began to add to it, "Beautiful as the son of
Hermas"; for the child developed swiftly in that favouring clime. At
nine years of age he was straight and strong, firm of limb and clear of
eye. His brown head was on a level with his father's heart. He was the
jewel of the House of the Golden Pillars; the pride of Hermas, the new
Fortunatus.

That year another drop of success fell into his brimming cup. His black
Numidian horses, which he had been training for the world-renowned
chariot-races of Antioch, won the victory over a score of rivals. Hermas
received the prize carelessly from the judge's hands, and turned to
drive once more around the circus, to show himself to the people. He
lifted the eager boy into the chariot beside him to share his triumph.

Here, indeed, was the glory of his life--this matchless son, his
brighter counterpart carved in breathing ivory, touching his arm, and
balancing himself proudly on the swaying floor of the chariot. As the
horses pranced around the ring, a great shout of applause filled the
amphitheatre, and thousands of spectators waved their salutations of
praise: "Hail, fortunate Hermas, master of success! Hail, little Hermas,
prince of good luck!"

The sudden tempest of acclamation, the swift fluttering of innumerable
garments in the air, startled the horses. They dashed violently forward,
and plunged upon the bits. The left rein broke. They swerved to the
right, swinging the chariot sideways with a grating noise, and dashing
it against the stone parapet of the arena. In an instant the wheel
was shattered. The axle struck the ground, and the chariot was dragged
onward, rocking and staggering.

By a strenuous effort Hermas kept his place on the frail platform,
clinging to the unbroken rein. But the boy was tossed lightly from
his side at the first shock. His head struck the wall. And when Hermas
turned to look for him, he was lying like a broken flower on the sand.

VI

They carried the boy in a litter to the House of the Golden Pillars,
summoning the most skilful physician of Antioch to attend him. For
hours the child was as quiet as death. Hermas wat