brother in his temple; he
accompanied her to Arbaces; on their way they encountered me, with a
company of friends, whom thy kind letter had given me a spirit cheerful
enough to join. Nydia's quick ear detected my voice--a few words
sufficed to make me the companion of Apaecides; I told not my associates
why I left them--could I trust thy name to their light tongues and
gossiping opinion?--Nydia led us to the garden gate, by which we
afterwards bore thee--we entered, and were about to plunge into the
mysteries of that evil house, when we heard thy cry in another
direction. Thou knowest the rest.'

Ione blushed deeply. She then raised her eyes to those of Glaucus, and
he felt all the thanks she could not utter. 'Come hither, my Nydia,'
said she, tenderly, to the Thessalian.

'Did I not tell thee that thou shouldst be my sister and friend? Hast
thou not already been more?--my guardian, my preserver!'

'It is nothing,' answered Nydia coldly, and without stirring.

'Ah! I forgot,' continued Ione, 'I should come to thee'; and she moved
along the benches till she reached the place where Nydia sat, and
flinging her arms caressingly round her, covered her cheeks with kisses.

Nydia was that morning paler than her wont, and her countenance grew
even more wan and colorless as she submitted to the embrace of the
beautiful Neapolitan. 'But how camest thou, Nydia,' whispered Ione, 'to
surmise so faithfully the danger I was exposed to? Didst thou know
aught of the Egyptian?'

'Yes, I knew of his vices.'

'And how?'

'Noble Ione, I have been a slave to the vicious--those whom I served
were his minions.'

'And thou hast entered his house since thou knewest so well that private
entrance?'

'I have played on my lyre to Arbaces,' answered the Thessalian, with
embarrassment.

'And thou hast escaped the contagion from which thou hast saved Ione?'
returned the Neapolitan, in a voice too low for the ear of Glaucus.

'Noble Ione, I have neither beauty nor station; I am a child, and a
slave, and blind. The despicable are ever safe.'

It was with a pained, and proud, and indignant tone that Nydia made this
humble reply; and Ione felt that she only wounded Nydia by pursuing the
subject. She remained silent, and the bark now floated into the sea.

'Confess that I was right, Ione,' said Glaucus, 'in prevailing on thee
not to waste this beautiful noon in thy chamber--confess that I was
right.'

'Thou wert right, Glaucus,'