e
prostitute?'

Olinthus, accustomed to men of all classes, and combining with the
enthusiasm of his faith a profound experience of his kind, guessed,
perhaps, by the index of the countenance, something of what passed
within the breast of the priest. He met the survey of Apaecides with a
steady eye, and a brow of serene and open candour.

'Peace be with thee!' said he, saluting Apaecides.

'Peace!' echoed the priest, in so hollow a tone that it went at once to
the heart of the Nazarene.

'In that wish,' continued Olinthus, 'all good things are
combined--without virtue thou canst not have peace. Like the rainbow,
Peace rests upon the earth, but its arch is lost in heaven. Heaven
bathes it in hues of light--it springs up amidst tears and clouds--it is
a reflection of the Eternal Sun--it is an assurance of calm--it is the
sign of a great covenant between Man and God. Such peace, O young man!
is the smile of the soul; it is an emanation from the distant orb of
immortal light. PEACE be with you!'

'Alas!' began Apaecides, when he caught the gaze of the curious
loiterers, inquisitive to know what could possibly be the theme of
conversation between a reputed Nazarene and a priest of Isis. He
stopped short, and then added in a low tone: 'We cannot converse here, I
will follow thee to the banks of the river; there is a walk which at
this time is usually deserted and solitary.'

Olinthus bowed assent. He passed through the streets with a hasty step,
but a quick and observant eye. Every now and then he exchanged a
significant glance, a slight sign, with some passenger, whose garb
usually betokened the wearer to belong to the humbler classes; for
Christianity was in this the type of all other and less mighty
revolutions--the grain of mustard-seed was in the heart of the lowly.
Amidst the huts of poverty and labor, the vast stream which afterwards
poured its broad waters beside the cities and palaces of earth took its
neglected source.

Chapter II

THE NOONDAY EXCURSION ON THE CAMPANIAN SEAS.

'BUT tell me, Glaucus,' said Ione, as they glided down the rippling
Sarnus in their boat of pleasure, 'how camest thou with Apaecides to my
rescue from that bad man?'

'Ask Nydia yonder,' answered the Athenian, pointing to the blind girl,
who sat at a little distance from them, leaning pensively over her lyre;
'she must have thy thanks, not we. It seems that she came to my house,
and, finding me from home, sought thy