GEO.MUNRO, 
 w ^~^ ' ~ *-"^"" 
 
 77 to tiVandewafefSt
 
 MUNRO'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE NEW YOKKFASHION BAZAE. 
 
 The Best Ladies' Magazine. 
 
 WHAT IS SAID OF IT. 
 
 THE May number of THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR is rich in fashion illus- 
 trations and in entertaining reading matter. The success of this periodical is 
 pronounced. Chicago Herald, Chicago, 111. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR for May will please the ladies. It is a 
 magnificent publication, containing the latest fashions, the plates being got 
 up in the most artistic manner possible. The table of contents, too, contains 
 a fine selection of choice reading. Get one. Published by Geo. Munro, New 
 York. Metropolis, Jacksonville, Fla. 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, the great cheap publisher of New York, has brought hi 
 celebrated BAZAR of New York Fashion into sharp rivalry with Harper, Demo- 
 rest, Le Bon Ton and other self-sufficient delineators of feminine fashions. 
 Munrp's April number is a great publication, as it presents women and chil- 
 dren in their most artistic and enchanting habiliments. The Daily City Item, 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO'S NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR for May is a great number, with 
 more of the very latest styles and patterns of ladies' and children's clothas 
 from top to toe than any reasonable person could desire. The colored plate 
 of New York and Paris spring fashions is a splendid picture, designed and 
 furnished by Lord & Taylor. The price of this useful guide to elegance is $8 
 per annum. The Daily City Item, New Orleans, La. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR is a most attractive magazine for ladies. It 
 is a treasury of lovely dresses, hats and mantles, and every thing new and fash- 
 ionable. Every mother and head of a family of boys and girls will find 
 abundance of new suits for their little ones, as well as pretty spring dresses for 
 young ladies and misses. In the literary department, the FASHION BAZAR for 
 April contains a charming novelette by the popular American author, William 
 Henry Bishop, entitled " A Dinner at McArthur's." The Times-Star, Cincin- 
 nati, Ohio. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR, published by George Munro, of New York, is 
 one of the best magazines published in the United States. The May number 
 shows all the latest fashions and designs of spring and summer styles in ladies' 
 and children's dress. Ladies need never fear being out of style in dress if 
 they will follow the fashions in this splendid fashion book. There is also in 
 this issue a great amount of reading matter, several continued stories, "Null 
 and Void," " Connie Forrester's Husband," also other short stories. Price 
 $3.00 per year. The Enterprise, Tonawanda, N. Y. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR is one of the best magazines published for 
 ladies. It has a large colored fashion plate, containing the latest styles for 
 ladies in every number, and upward of one hundred engravings of fashions 
 and embroideries. All the fashion plates are perfectly and fully described. 
 This magazine contains many continued stories, short stories. Sketches and 
 humorous articles, written by the best authors. There is a series of articles n 
 housekeeping, which is especially designed for young housekeepers, also a de- 
 partment for cooking recipes and household information. This book is pub- 
 lished every month, and is really a valuable magazine, and should be in every 
 family. A single copy can be obtained by sending twenty-five cents to the 
 publisher, George Munro, 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New Yrk. Subscription 
 price $3 a year. New England Home Journal, Worcester, Mass. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR Is for sale by all newsdealers. It will also 
 be sent, postage prepaid, for 25 cents per single copy. The subscription price to 
 $3.1)0 per year. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munro's Publishing House, 
 P. O. Box. 8751. 1* to 2T Vandewater Street, New York.
 
 MUtfRO'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 PRICE 25 CENTS. 
 
 This is a little book which we can recommend to every lady for the preserva- 
 tion and increase of Health and Beauty. It contains full directions for all the 
 arts and mysteries of personal decoration, and for increasing the natural 
 graces ot form and expression. All the little affections of the skin, hair, eyes 
 and body that detract from appearance and happiness are made the subjects 
 of precise and excellent recipes. Ladies are instructed how to reduce their 
 weight without injury to health and without producing pallor and weakness. 
 Nothing necessary to a complete toilet book of recipes and valuable advice and 
 information has been overlooked in the compilation of this volume. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR BOOK OF THE TOILET is sold 
 by all newsdealers. It will be seat to any address, postpaid, on receipt of 
 price, 25 cents, by the publisher. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, 
 MUNRO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 P. <K Box 3751. 17 to 37 Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
 THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR 
 
 Model Letter-Writer and Lover's Oracle. 
 
 PRICE 25 CENTS. 
 
 A COMPLETE GUIDE FOR BOTH LADIES AND GENTLEMEN IN 
 ELEGANT AND FASHIONABLE LETTER-WRITING. 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 Perfect Examples of Every Form of Correspondence, Business Letters, Love 
 Letters, Letters to Relatives and Friends, Wedding and Reception Cards, 
 Invitations to Entertainments, Letters Accepting and Declining Invi- 
 tations, Letters of Introduction and Recommendation, Letters of 
 Condolence and Duty, Widows' and Widowers 1 Letters, Love 
 Letters for All Occasions, Proposals of Marriage. Letters 
 Between Betrothed Lovers, Letters of a Young Girl to 
 Her Sweetheart, Correspondence Relating to House- 
 hold Management, Letters Accompanying Gifts. 
 
 Every form of letter used in affairs of the heart will be found in this Httla 
 book. It contains simple and full directions for writing a good letter on alt 
 occasions. The latest forms used in the best society have been carefully fol- 
 lowed. It is an excellent meumal of reference for all forms of engraved carda 
 and invitations. 
 
 For sale by all Newsdealers, or sent to any address on receipt of 25 cents, 
 postage prepaid, by the publisher. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munro's Publishing House, 
 
 (P. O. Box 3751.) 17 to 7 Vandewater Street, New York.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE EBERS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 
 
 17 TO 87 VANDEWATER STREET.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, In the years 1880 and 1883, by 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.
 
 GEORGE EBERS'S WORKS 
 
 CONTAINED IN THE SEASIDE LIBRARY (POCKET EDITION): 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 474 Serapis. An Historical Novel . . . , .20 
 
 983 Uarda. A Romance of Ancient Egypt ... 20 
 
 1056 The Bride of the Nile. First half . ' . . .20 
 
 1056 The Bride of the Nile. Second half ... 20 
 
 1094 Homo Sum , , 20
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IN the course of my labors preparatory to writing a history 
 of the Sinai tic peninsula, the study of the first centuries of 
 Christianity for a long time claimed my attention; and in the 
 mass of martyrology, of ascetic writings, and of histories of 
 saints and monks, which it was necessary to work through and 
 sift for my strictly limited object, I came upon a narrative (in 
 Cotelerius Ecclesiae Grecaa Monumenta) which seemed to me 
 peculiar and touching notwithstanding its improbability. Sinai 
 and the oasis of Pharan which lies at its foot were the scene of 
 action. 
 
 When, in my journey through Arabia Petraea, I saw the 
 caves of the anchorites of Sinai with my own eyes and trod 
 their soil with my own feet, that story recurred to my mind, 
 and did not cease to haunt me while I traveled on further in 
 the desert. 
 
 A soul's problem of the most exceptional type seemed to me 
 to be offered by the simple course of this little history. 
 
 An anchorite, falsely accused instead of another, takes his 
 punishment of expulsion on himself without exculpating him- 
 self, and his innocence becomes known only through the con- 
 fession of the real culprit. 
 
 There was a peculiar fascination in imagining what the emo- 
 tions of a soul might be which could lead to such apathy, to 
 such an annihilation of all sensibility; and while the very deeds 
 and thoughts of the strange cave-dweller grew more and more 
 vivid hi my mind, the figure of Paulus took form, as it were as 
 an example, and soon a crowd of ideas gathered round it, grow- 
 ing at last to a distinct entity, which excited and urged me on 
 till I ventured to give it artistic expression in the form of a
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 narrative. I was prompted to elaborate this subjectwhich 
 had long been shaping itself to perfect conception in my mind 
 as ripe material for a romance by my readings hi Coptic 
 monkish annals, to which I was led by AbeFs Coptic studies; 
 and I afterward received a further stimulus from the small but 
 weighty essay by H. Weingarten on the origin of monasticism, 
 in which I still study the early centuries of Christianity, espe- 
 cially in Egypt. 
 
 This is not the place in which to indicate the points on which 
 I feel myself obliged to differ from Weingarten. My acute 
 fellow-laborer at Breslau clears away much which does not de- 
 serve to remain, but in many parts of his book he seems to me 
 to sweep with too hard a broom. 
 
 Easy as it would have been to lay the date of my story in 
 the beginning of the fortieth year of the fourth century instead 
 of the thirtieth, I have forborne from doing so because I feel 
 able to prove with certainty that at the time which I have 
 chosen there were not only heathen recluses in the temples of 
 Serapis but also Christian anchorites; I fully agree with him 
 that the beginnings of organized Christian monasticism can in 
 no case be dated earlier than the year 350. 
 
 The Paulus of my story must not be confounded with the 
 " first hermit," Paulus of Thebes, whom Weingarten has with 
 good reason struck out of the category of historical person- 
 ages. He, with all the figures in this narrative, is a purely 
 fictitious person, the vehicle for an idea, neither more nor less. 
 I selected no particular model for my hero, and I claim for 
 him no attribute but that of his having been possible at the 
 period; least of all did I think of Saint Anthony, who is now 
 deprived even of his distinguished biographer Athanasius, and 
 who is represented as a man of very sound j ndgment, but of so 
 scant an education that he was master only of Egyptian. 
 
 The dogmatic controversies which were already kindled at 
 the time of my story I have, on careful consideration, avoided 
 mentioning. The dwellers on Sinai and in the oasis took an 
 eager part in them at a later date. 
 
 That Mount Sinai to which .1 desire to transport the reader
 
 PREFACE. IS 
 
 must not be confounded with the mountain which lies at a long 
 day's journey to the south of it. It is this that has borne the 
 name, at any rate since the time of Justinian; the celebrated 
 convent of the Transfiguration lies at its foot, and it has been 
 commonly accepted as the Sinai of Scripture. In the descrip- 
 tion of my journey through Arabia Petrsea I have endeavored 
 to bring fresh proof of the view, first introduced by Lepsius, 
 that the giant-mountain, now called Serbal, must be regarded 
 as the mount on which the law was given; and was indeed so 
 regarded before the time of Justinian and not the Sinai of the 
 . monks. 
 
 As regards the stone house of the senator Petrus, with its 
 windows opening on the street- contrary to eastern custom I 
 may remark, in anticipation of well-founded doubts, that to 
 this day wonderfully well-preserved, fire-proof walls stand in 
 the oasis of Paran, the remains of a pretty large number of 
 similar buildings. 
 
 But these and such external details hold a quite secondary 
 place in this study of a soul. While in my earlier romances 
 the scholar was compelled to make concessions to the poet and 
 the poet to the scholar, in this one I have not attempted to in- 
 struct, nor sought to clothe the outcome of my studies in 
 forms of flesh and blood; I have aimed at absolutely nothing 
 but to give artistic expression to the vivid realization of an idea 
 that had deeply stirred my soul. The simple figures whose 
 inmost being I have endeavored to reveal to the reader fill the 
 canvas of a picture where, in the dark background, rolls the 
 flowing ocean of the world's history. 
 
 The Latin title was suggested to me by an often used motto 
 which exactly agrees with the fundamental view to which I 
 have been led by my meditations on the mind and being of 
 man; even of those men who deem that they have climbed the 
 very highest steps of that stair which leads into the heavens. 
 
 In the " Heautontimorumenos of Terence," Chremes an- 
 swers his neighbor Menedemus (Act L, Sc. L, v. 25): 
 
 " Homo sum; humaui nil a me alien um puto," which Don- 
 ner translates literally:
 
 X PEEFACE. 
 
 " I am human; nothing that is human can I regard as alien 
 to me. " 
 
 But Cicero and Seneca already used this line as a proverb, 
 and in a sense which far transcends that which it would seem 
 to convey in context with the passage whence it is taken; and 
 as I coincide with them, I have transferred it to the title-page 
 of this book with this meaning: 
 
 V I am a man; and I feel that I am above all else a man. " 
 
 LEIPZIG, .ZVocmfor 11, 1887. 
 
 GEORG EBERS.
 
 HOMO SUM. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ROCKS naked, hard, red-brown rocks all round; not a bush, 
 not a blade, not a clinging moss such as elsewhere nature has 
 lightly flung on the rocky surface of the hejghts, as if a breath 
 of her creative life had softly touched the barren stone. Noth- 
 ing but smooth granite, and above it a sky as bare of cloud as 
 the rocks are of shrubs and herbs. 
 
 And yet in every cave of the mountain wall there moves a 
 human life; two small gray birds, too, float softly in the pure, 
 light air of the desert that glows in the noonday sun, and then 
 they vanish behind a range of cliffs, which shuts in the deep 
 gorge as though it were a wall built by man. 
 
 There it is pleasant enough, for a spring bedews the stony 
 soil; and there, as wherever any moisture touches the desert, 
 aromatic plants thrive, and umbrageous bushes grow. When 
 Osiris embraced the goddess of the desert so runs the Egyp- 
 tian myth he left his green wreath on her couch. 
 
 But at the time and in the sphere where our history moves 
 the old legends are no longer known or are ignored. We must 
 carry the reader back to the beginning of the thirtieth year of 
 the fourth century after the birth of the Saviour, and away to 
 the mountains of Sinai, on whose sacred ground solitary an- 
 chorites have for some few years been dwelling men weary of 
 the world, and vowed to penitence, but as yet without connec- 
 tion or rule among themselves. 
 
 Near the spring in the little ravine of which we have spoken 
 grows a many-branched feathery palm, but it does not shelter 
 it from the piercing rays of the sun of those latitudes; it seems 
 only to protect the roots of the tree itself; still the feathered 
 boughs are strong enough to support a small threadbare blue 
 cloth, which projects like a pent-house, screening the face of a 
 girl who lies dreaming, stretched at full length on the glowing 
 stones, while a few yellowish mountain goats spring from stone 
 to stone in search of pasture as gayly as though they found the 
 midday heat pleasant and exhilarating. From time to time
 
 12 HOMO SUM. 
 
 the girl seizes the herdsman 's crook that lies beside her, and 
 calls the goats with a hissing cry that is audible at a consider- 
 able distance. A young kid comes dancing up to her. Few 
 beasts can give expression to their feelings of delight; but 
 young goats can. 
 
 The girl puts out her bare slim foot, and playfully pushes 
 back the little kid who attacks her in fun, pushes it again and 
 again each time it skips forward, and in so doing the shepherd- 
 . ess bends her toes as gracefully as if she wished some looker-on 
 to admire their slender form. Once more the kid springs for- 
 ward, and this time with its head down. Its brow touches the 
 sole of her foot, but as it rubs its little hooked nose tenderly 
 against the girl's foot, she pushes it back so violently that the 
 little beast starts away, and ceases its game with loud bleating. 
 
 It was just as if the girl had been waiting for the right mo- 
 ment to hit the kid sharply; for the kick was a hard one 
 almost a cruel one. The blue cloth hid the face of the maiden, 
 but her eyes must surely have sparkled brightly when she so 
 roughly stopped the game. For a minute she remained mo- 
 tionless; but the cloth, which had fallen low over her face, 
 waved gently to and fro, moved by her fluttering breath. She 
 was listening with eager attention, with passionate, expectation; 
 her convulsively clinched toes betrayed her. 
 
 Then a noise became audible; it came from the direction of 
 the rough stair of unhewn blocks, which led from the steep 
 wall of the ravine down to the spring. A shudder of terror 
 passed through the tender and not yet fully developed limbs 
 of the shepherdess; still she did not move; the gray birds which 
 were now sitting on a thorn-bush near her flew up, but they 
 had merely heard a noise, and could not distinguish who it was 
 that it announced. 
 
 The shepherdess's ear was sharper than theirs. She heard 
 that a man was approaching, and well knew that one only 
 trod with such a step. She put out her hand for a stone that 
 lay near her, and flung it into the spring so that the waters im- 
 mediately became troubled; then she turned on her side, and 
 lay as if asleep with her head on her arm. The heavy steps 
 became more and Sftore distinctly audible. 
 
 A tall youth was descending the rocky stair; by his dress he 
 was seen to be one of the anchorites of Sinai, for he wore noth- 
 ing but a shirt-shaped garment of coarse linen, which he 
 seemed to have outgrown, and raw leather sandals, which were 
 tied on to his feet with fibrous palm bast. 
 
 Xo slave could be more poorly clothed by his owner, and yet 
 no one would have taken him, for a bondman, for he walked
 
 HOMO SUM. 13 
 
 erect and self -possessed. He could not be more than twenty 
 years of age; that was evident in the young soft hair on his 
 upper lip, chin, and cheeks; but in his large blue eyes there 
 shone no light of youth, only discontent, and his lips were 
 firmly closed as if in defiance. 
 
 He now stood still, and pushed back from his forehead the 
 superabundant and unkempt brown hair that flowed round his 
 head like a lion's mane; then he approached the well, and as 
 he stooped to draw the water in the large dried gourd shell 
 which he held, he observed first that the spring was muddy, 
 and then perceived the goats, and at last their sleeping mis- 
 tress. 
 
 He impatiently set down the vessel and called the girl loud- 
 ly, but she did not move till he touched her somewhat roughly 
 with his foot. Then she sprung up as if stusg by an asp, and 
 two eyes as black as night flashed at him out of her dark young 
 face; the delicate nostrils of her aquiline nose quivered, and 
 her white teeth gleamed as she cried: 
 
 " Am I a dog that you wake me in this fashion?" 
 
 He colored, pointed sullenly to the well and said, sharply: 
 " Your cattle have troubled the water again; I shall have to 
 wait here till it is clear and I can draw some. " 
 
 " The day is long," answered the shepherdess; and while she 
 rose she pushed, as if by chance, another stone into the water. 
 
 Her triumphant, flashing glance as she looked down into the 
 troubled spring did not escape the young man, and he ex- 
 claimed, angrily: 
 
 " He is right! You are a venomous snake a demon of 
 hell." 
 
 She raised herself and made a face at him, as if she wished 
 to show him that she really was some horrible fiend; the un- 
 usual sharpness of her mobile and youthful features gave her a 
 particular facility for doing so. And she fully attained her 
 end, for he drew back with a look of horror, stretched out his 
 arms to repel her, and exclaimed, as he saw her uncontrollable 
 laughter: 
 
 ''Back, demon, back! In the name. of the Lord! I ask 
 thee, who art thou?" 
 
 " I am Miriam who else should I be?" she answered, 
 . haughtily. 
 
 He had expected a different reply; her vivacity annoyed him, 
 and he said, angrily: " Whatever your name is you are a fiend, " 
 and I will ask Paulus to forbid you to water your beasts at our 
 well." . 
 
 " You might run to your nurse, and complain of me to her
 
 14 HOMO SUM. 
 
 if you had one," she answered, pouting her lips contemptu- 
 ously at him. 
 
 He colored; she went on boldly, and with eager play of 
 gesture. 
 
 " You ought to be a man, for you are strong and big, but 
 you let yourself to be kept like a child or a miserable girl; 
 your only business is to hunt for roots and berries, and fetch 
 water in that wretched thing there. I have learned to do that 
 ever since I was as big as that!" and she indicated a contempti- 
 bly little measure, with the outstretched pointed fingers of her 
 two hands, which were not less expressively mobile than her 
 features. "Phoh! you are stronger and taller than all the 
 Amalekite lads down there, but you never try to measure 
 yourself with them in shooting with a bow and arrows or in 
 throwing a spear!" 
 
 " If I only dared as much as I wish!" he interrupted, and 
 flaming scarlet mounted to his face, " I would be a match for 
 ten of those lean rascals. " 
 
 " I believe you/' replied the girl, and her eager glance meas- 
 ured the youth's broad breast and muscular arms with an ex- 
 pression of pride. " I believe you, but why do you not dare? 
 Are you the slave of that man up there?" 
 
 " He is my father, and besides " 
 
 " What besides?" she cried, waving her hand as if to wave 
 away a bat. "If no bird ever flew away from the nest there 
 would be a pretty swarm in it. Look at my kids there as 
 long as they need their mother they run about after her, but 
 as soon as they can find their food alone they seek it wherever 
 they can find it, and I can tell you the yearlings there have 
 quite forgotten whether they sucked the yellow dam or the 
 brown one. And what great things does your father do for 
 you?" 
 
 " Silence!" interrupted the youth, with excited indignation. 
 " The Evil One speaks through thee. Get thee from me, for I 
 dare not hear that which I dare not utter. " 
 
 "Dare, dare, dare!" she sneered. "What do you dare, 
 then? not even to listen!" 
 
 " At any rate not to what you have to say, you goblin!" he 
 exclaimed, vehemently. " Your voice is hateful to me, and 
 if I meet you again by the well I will drive you away with 
 stones." 
 
 While he spoke thus she stared speechless at him, the blood 
 had left her lips, and she clinched her small hands. He was 
 about to pass her to fetch some water, but she stepped into his 
 path, and held him spell-bound with the fixed gaze of her eyes.
 
 HOMO SUM. 15 
 
 A cold chill ran through him when she asked him, with trem- 
 bling lips and a smothered voice: "What harm have I done 
 
 you?"' 
 
 " Leave me!" said he, and he raised his hand to push her 
 away from the water. 
 
 " You shall not touch me, " she cried, beside herself. " What 
 harm have I done you?*' 
 
 " You know nothing of God," he answered, " and he who 
 is not of God is of the devil. ' ' 
 
 " You do not say that of yourself," answered she, and her 
 voice recovered its tone of light mockery. " What they let 
 you believe pulls the wires of your tongue just as a hand pulls 
 the strings of a puppet. Who told you that I was of the 
 
 devil?" 
 
 " Why should I conceal it from you?" he answered, proud- 
 ly. " Our pious Paulus warned me against you, and I will 
 thank him for it. ' The Evil One/ he says, ' looks out of your 
 eyes/ and he is right, a thousand times right. When you 
 look at me I feel as if I could tread everything that is holy 
 under foot; only last night again I dreamed I was whirling in 
 a dance with you " 
 
 At these words all gravity and spite vanished from Miriam's 
 eyes; she clapped her hands and cried: "If it had only been 
 the fact and not a dream! Only do not be frightened again, 
 you fool! Do you know, then, what it is when the pipes sound, 
 and the lutes tinkle, and our feet fly round in circles as if they 
 had wings?" 
 
 " The wings of Satan," Hermas interrupted, sternly. " You 
 are a demon, a hardened heathen." 
 
 " So says our pious Paulus," laughed the girl. 
 
 " So say I too," cried the young man. " Who ever saw 
 you in the assemblies of the just? Do you pray? Do you ever 
 praise the Lord and our Saviour?" 
 
 " And what should I praise them for?" asked Miriam. 
 " Because I am regarded as a foul fiend by the most pious 
 among you, perhaps?" 
 
 " But it is because you are a sinner that Heaven denies you 
 its blessing." 
 
 " No no, a thousand times no!" cried Miriam. " No god 
 has ever troubled himself about me. And if I am not good, 
 why should I be when nothing but evil ever has fallen to my 
 share? Do you know who I am and how I became so? I was 
 wicked, perhaps, when both my parents were slain in their pil- 
 grimage hither? Why, I was then no more than six years old, 
 and what is a child of that age! But I still very well remem-
 
 16 HOMO SUM. 
 
 her that there were many camels grazing near our house, and 
 horses, too, that belonged to us, and that on a hand that often 
 caressed me it was my mother's hand a large jewel shone. 
 I had a black slave, too, that obeyed me; when she and I did 
 not agree I used to hang on to her gray woolly hair and beat 
 her. Who knows what may have become of her? I did not 
 love her, but if I had her now, how kind I would be to her. 
 And now for twelve years I myself have eaten the bread of 
 servitude, and have kept Senator Petrus's goats, and if I vent- 
 ured to show myself at a festival among the free maidens, they 
 would turn me out and pull the wreath out of my hair. And 
 am I to be thankful? What for, I wonder? And pious? 
 What god has taken any care of me? Call me an evil demon 
 call me so! But if Petrus and your Paulus there say that 
 He who is up above us and who let me grow up to such a lot 
 is good, they tell a lie. God is cruel, and it is just like Him 
 to put it into your heart to throw stones and scare me away 
 from your well." 
 
 With these words she burst out into bitter sobs, and her 
 features worked witli various and passionate distortion. 
 
 Hernias felt compassion for the weeping Miriam. He had 
 met her a hundred times and she had shown herself now 
 haughty, now discontented, now exacting, and now wrathful, 
 but never before soft or sad. To-day, for the first time, she 
 had opened her heart to him; the tears which disfigured her 
 countenance gave her character a value which it had never be- 
 fore had in his eyes, and when he saw her weak and unhappy 
 he felt ashamed of his hardness. He went up to her kindly 
 and said: 
 
 " You need not cry; come to the well again always, I will 
 not prevent you. " 
 
 His deep voice sounded soft and kind as he spoke, but she 
 sobbed more passionately than before, almost convulsively, and 
 she tried to speak but she could not. Trembling in every 
 slender limb, shaken with grief, and overwhelmed with sor- 
 row, the slight shepherdess stood before him, and he felt as if 
 he must help her. His passionate pity cut him to the heart 
 and fettered his by no means ready tongue. 
 
 As he could find no word of comfort, he took the water- 
 gourd in his left hand and laid his right, in which he had 
 hitherto held it, gently on her shoulder. She started, but 
 she let him do it; he felt her warm breath; he would have 
 drawn back, but he felt as if he could not; he hardly knew 
 whether she were crying or laughing while she let his hand rest 
 on her black waving hair.
 
 HOMO SUM. 17 
 
 She did not move. At last she raised her head, her eyes 
 flashed into his, and at the same instant he felt two slender 
 arms clasped round his neck. He felt as if a sea were roaring 
 in his ears, and fire blazing in his eyes. A nameless anguish 
 seized him; he tore himself violently free, and with a loud cry, 
 as if all the spirits of hell were after him, he fled up the steps 
 that led from the Avell, and heeded not that his water-jar was 
 shattered into a thousand pieces against the rocky wall. 
 
 She stood looking after him as if spell-bound. Then she 
 struck her slender hand against her forehead, threw herself 
 down by the spring again and stared into space; there she lay 
 motionless, only her mouth continued to twitch. 
 
 When the shadow of the palm-tree grew longer she sprung 
 up, called her goats and looked up, listening, to the rock-steps 
 by which he had vanished; the twilight is short in the neigh- 
 borhood of the tropics, and she knew that she would be over- 
 taken by the darkness on the stony and fissured road down the 
 valley if she lingered any longer. She feared the terrors of 
 the night, the spirits and demons, and a thousand vague dan- 
 gers whose nature she could not have explained even to herself; 
 and yet she did not stir from the spot nor cease listening and 
 waiting for his return till the sun had disappeared behind the 
 sacred mountain, and the glow in the west had paled. 
 
 All around was as still as death; she could hear herself 
 breathe, and as the evening chill fell she shuddered with cold. 
 
 She now heard a loud noise above her head. A flock of 
 wild mountain goats, accustomed to come at this hour to 
 quench their thirst at the spring, came nearer and nearer, but 
 drew back as they detected the presence of a human being. 
 Only the leader of the herd remained standing on the brink of 
 the ravine, and she knew that he was only awaiting her depart- 
 ure to lead the others down to drink. Following a kindly im- 
 pulse, she was on the point of leaving to make way for the 
 animals, when she suddenly recollected Hermas's threat to 
 drive her from the well, and she angrily picked up a stone and 
 flung it at the buck, which started and hastily fled. The whole 
 herd followed him. Miriam listened to them as they scuttered 
 away, and then, with her head sunk, she led her flock home, 
 feeling her way in the darkness with her bare feet. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 HIGH ajaove the ravine where the spring was lay a level 
 plateau of moderate extent, and behind it rose a fissured cliff 
 of bare, red-brown porphyry. "A vein of diorite of iron hard-
 
 18 HOMO SUM. 
 
 ness lay at its foot like a green ribbon, and below this there 
 opened a small round cavern, hollowed and arched by the cun- 
 ning hand of nature. In former times wild beasts, panthers 
 or wolves, had made it then- home; it now served as a dwelling 
 for young Hermas and his father. 
 
 Many similar cares were to be found in the holy mountain, 
 and other anchorites had taken possession of the larger ones 
 among them. 
 
 That of Stephanus was exceptionally high and deep, and yet 
 the space was but small which divided the two beds of dried 
 mountain herbs where, on one, slept the father, and on the 
 other the son. 
 
 It was long past midnight, but neither the younger nor the 
 elder cave-dweller seemed to be sleeping. Hermas groaned 
 aloud and threw himself vehemently from one side to the other 
 without any consideration for the old man who, tormented 
 with pain and weakness, sorely needed sleep. Stephanus mean- 
 while denied himself the relief of turning over or of sighing, 
 when he thought he perceived that his more vigorous son had 
 found rest. 
 
 " What could have robbed him of his rest, the boy who 
 usually slept so soundly, and was so hard to waken?" 
 
 " Whence comes it," thought Shephanus, " that the young 
 and strong sleep so soundly and so much, and the old, who 
 need rest, and even the sick, sleep so lightly and so little? Is 
 it that wakefulness may prolong the little term of life, of 
 which they dread the end? How is it that man clings so 
 fondly to this miserable existence, and would fain slink away, 
 and hide himself when the angel calls and the golden gates 
 open before him? We are like Saul, the Hebrew, who hid him- 
 self when they came to him with the crown! My wound burns 
 painfully; if I only had a drink of water. If the poor child 
 were not so sound asleep I might ask him for the jar. " 
 
 Stephanus listened to his son and would not wake him when 
 he heard his heavy and regular breathing. He curled himself 
 up shivering under the sheep-skin which covered only half his 
 body, for the icy night-wind now blew through the opening of 
 the cave, which by day was as hot as an oven. 
 
 Some long minutes wore away; at last he thought he per- 
 ceived that Hermas had raised himself. Yes, the sleeper must 
 have wakened, for he began to speak and to call on the name 
 of God. 
 
 THe old man turned to his son and began, softly: " Do you 
 hear me, my boy?" 
 
 " I can not sleep," answered the youth.
 
 HOMO SUM. 19 
 
 "Then give me something to drink," asked Stephanus, 
 " my wound burns intolerably." 
 
 Hennas rose at once, and reached the water-jar to the suf- 
 ferer. 
 
 " Thanks,, thanks, my child," said the old man, feeling for 
 the neck of the jar. But he could not find it, and exclaimed, 
 with surprise: 
 
 " How damp and cold it is this is clay, and our jar was a 
 gourd." 
 
 " 1 have broken it," interrupted Hermas, " and Paulus lent 
 me his. " 
 
 " Well, well," said Stephanus, anxious for drink; he gave 
 the jar back to his son, and waited till he had stretched himself 
 again on his couch. Then he asked, anxiously: 
 
 " You were out a long time this evening, the gourd is 
 broken, and you groaned in your sleep. Whom did you meet?" 
 
 " A demon of hell," answerd Hermas. " And now the 
 fiend pursues me into our cave, and torments me in a variety 
 of shapes." 
 
 " Drive it out then, and pray," said the old man, gravely. 
 " Unclean spirits flee at the name of God." 
 
 " I have called upon Him," sighed Hermas, " but in vain; 
 I see women with ruddy lips and flowing hair, and white mar- 
 ble figures with rounded limbs and flashing eyes beckon to me 
 again and again. " 
 
 " Then take the scourge," ordered the father, " and so win 
 peace." 
 
 Hermas once more obediently rose, and went out into the 
 air with the scourge; the narrow limits of the cave did not 
 admit of his swinging it with all the strength of his arms. 
 
 Very soon Stephanus heard the whistle of the leathern 
 thongs through the stillness of the night, their hard blows on 
 the springy muscles of the man, and his son's painful groan- 
 ing. 
 
 At each blow the old man shrunk as if it had fallen on him- 
 self. At last he cried, as loud as he was able: " Enough that 
 is enough. " 
 
 Hermas came back into the cave, his father called him to 
 his couch, and desired him to join with him in prayer. 
 
 After the " Amen " he stroked the lad's abundant hair and 
 said: "Since you went to Alexandria you have been quite 
 another being. I would I had withstood Bishop Agapitus, 
 and forbidden you the journey. Soon, I know, my Saviour 
 will call me to Himself, and no one will keep you here; then 
 the tempter will come to you, and all the splendors of the great
 
 20 HOMO SUM. 
 
 city, which after all only shine like rotten wood, like shining 
 snakes and poisonous purple berries " 
 
 " I do not care for them/' interrupted Hernias; " the noisy 
 place bewildered and frightened me. Never, never will I 
 tread the spot again.'* 
 
 " So you have always said," replied Stephanus, " and yet 
 the journey quite altered you. How often before that I used 
 to think when I heard you laugh that the sound must surely 
 please our Father in Heaven. And now? You used to be 
 like a singing bird, and now you go about silent, you look sour 
 and morose, and evil thoughts trouble your sleep." 
 
 " That is my loss," answered Hernias. " Pray let go of 
 my hand; the night will soon be past, and you have the whole 
 livelong day to lecture me in. " 
 
 Stephanus sighed, and Hermas returned to his couch. - 
 
 Sleep avoided them both, and each knew that the other was 
 awake, and would willingly have spoken to him, but dissatis- 
 faction and defiance closed the son's lips, and the father was 
 silent because he could not find -exactly the heart-searching 
 words that he was seeking. 
 
 At last it was morning, a twilight glimmer struck through 
 the opening of the cave, and it grew lighter and lighter in the 
 gloomy vault; the boy awoke and rose yawning. When he 
 saw his father lying with his eyes open, he asked, indifferently: 
 " Shall I stay here or go to morning worship?" 
 
 " Let us pray here together," begged the father. " Who 
 knows how long it may yet be granted to us to do so. I am 
 not far from the day that no evening ever closes. Kneel down 
 here, and let me kiss the image of the Crucified." 
 
 Hermas did as his father desired him, and as they were end- 
 ing their song of praise, a third voice joined in the Amen. " 
 
 "Paulus!" cried the old man. " The Lord be praised! pray 
 look to my wound then. The arrow-head seeks to work some 
 way out, and it burns fearfully. " 
 
 The new-comer, an anchorite, who for all clothing wore a 
 shirt-shaped coat of brown undress linen, and a sheep-skin, ex- 
 amined the wound" carefully, and laid some herbs on it, mur- 
 muring meanwhile some pious texts. 
 
 " That is much easier," sighed the old man. " The Lord 
 has mercy on me for your goodness' sake. " 
 
 " My goodness? I am a vessel of wrath/' replied Paulus, 
 with a deep, rich, sonorous voice, and his peculiarly kind blue 
 eyes were raised to heaven as if- to attest how greatly men were 
 deceived in him. Then he pushed the bushy grizzled hair,
 
 HOMO SUM. 21 
 
 which hung in disorder over his neck and face, out of his eyes, 
 and said, cheerfully: 
 
 " No man is more than man, and many men are less. In 
 the ark there were many beasts, but only one Noah. " 
 
 " You are the Noah of our little ark/' replied Stephanus. 
 
 " Then this great lout here is the elephant," laughed Paulus. 
 
 " You are no smaller than he," replied Stephanus. 
 
 "It is a pity this stone roof is so low, else we might have 
 measured ourselves," said Paulus. " Ay! if Hermas and I 
 were as pious and pure as we are tall and strong, we should 
 both have the key of Paradise in our pockets. You were 
 scourging yourself this night, boy; I heard the blows. It is 
 well; if the sinful flesh revolts, thus we may subdue it." 
 
 " He groaned heavily and could not sleep," said Stephanus. 
 
 "Ay, did he indeed!" cried Paulus to the youth, and held 
 his powerful arms out toward him with clinched fists; but the 
 threatening voice was loud rather than terrible, and wild as the 
 exceptionally big man looked in his sheep-skin, there was such 
 irresistible kindliness in his gaze and .in his voice that no one 
 could have believed that his wrath was in earnest. 
 
 " Friends of hell had met him," said Stephanus, in excuse 
 for his son, " and I should not have closed an eye even with- 
 out his groaning; it is the fifth night." 
 
 " But in the sixth," said Paulus, " sleep is absolutely neces- 
 sary. Put on your sheep-skin, Hermas; you must go down to 
 the oasis to the senator Petrus, and fetch a good sleeping- 
 draught for our sick man from him or from Dame Dorothea, 
 the deaconess. Just look! the youngster has really thought 
 of his father's breakfast one's own stomach is a good re- 
 minder. Only put the bread and the water down here by the 
 couch; while you are gone I will fetch some fresh now, come 
 with me. " 
 
 " Wait a minute, wait," cried Stephanus. " Bring a new 
 jar with you from the town, my son. You lent us yours yes- 
 terday, Paulus, and I must 
 
 " I should soon have forgotten it," interrupted the other. 
 " I have to thank the careless fellow, for I have now for the 
 first time discovered the right way to drink, as long as one is 
 well and able. I would not have the jar back for a measure 
 of gold; water has no relish unless you drink it out of the hol- 
 low of your hand ! The shard is yours. I should be warring 
 against my own welfare if I required it back. God be praised! 
 the craftiest thief can now rob me of nothing save my sheep^ 
 skin."
 
 22 HOMO SUM. 
 
 Stephanus would have thanked him, but he took Hermas by 
 the hand, and led him out into the open. 
 
 For some time the two men walked in silence over the clefts 
 and bowlders up the mountain side. When they had reached 
 a plateau, which lay on the road that led from the sea over the 
 mountain into the oasis, he turned to the youth, and said : 
 
 " If we always considered all the results of our actions there 
 would be no sins committed." 
 
 Hermas looked at him inquiringly, and Paul us went on: 
 
 " If it had occurred to you to think how sorely your poor 
 father needed sleep, you would have lain still this night." 
 
 " I could not/' said the youth sullenly. " And you know 
 very well that I scourged myself hardly enough. " 
 
 " That was quite right, for you deserved a flogging for a 
 misconducted boy. " 
 
 Hermas looked defiantly at his reproving friend, the flaming 
 color mounting to his cheek, for he remembered the shepherd- 
 ess's words that he might go and complain to his nurse, and 
 he cried out angrily: 
 
 " I will not let any one speak to me so; I am no longer a 
 child." 
 
 " Not even your father's?" asked Paul us, and he looked at 
 the boy with such an astonished and inquiring air that Hermas 
 turned away his eyes in confusion. 
 
 " It is not right, at any rate, to trouble the last remnant of 
 life of that very man who longs to live for your sake only. " 
 
 " I should have been very willing to lie still, for I love my 
 father as well as any one else." 
 
 "You do not beat him/' replied Paulus, "*you carry him 
 bread and water, and do not drink up the wine yourself which 
 the bishop sends him home for the Lord's Supper; that is 
 something certainly, but not enough by a long way/' 
 
 " I am no saint!" 
 
 " Nor I neither," exclaimed Paulus; "I am full of sin and 
 weakness. But I know what the love is which is taught us by 
 the Saviour, and that you, too, may know. He suffered on the 
 cross for you and for me, and for all the poor and the vile. 
 Love is at once the easiest and the most difficult of attain- 
 ments. It requires sacrifice. And you? How long is it now 
 since you last showed your father a cheerful countenance?" 
 
 " I can not be a hypocrite. " 
 
 " Nor need you, but you must love. Certainly it is not by 
 what his hand does but by what his heart cheerfully offers, 
 and by what he forces himself to give up that a man proves 
 his love."
 
 HOMO SUM. 23 
 
 " And is it no sacrifice that I waste all my youth here?" 
 asked the boy. 
 
 Paulus stepped back from him a little way, shook his matted 
 head, and said: " Is that it? You are thinking of Alexandria! 
 Ay! no doubt life runs away much quicker there than on our 
 solitary mountain. You do not fancy the tawny shepherd girl, 
 but perhaps some pretty pink and white Greek maiden down 
 there has looked into your eyes?" 
 
 " Let me alone about the women," answered Hernias, with 
 genuine annoyance. " There are other things to look at 
 there." 
 
 The youth's eyes sparkled as he spoke, and Paulus asked, 
 not without interest: " Indeed?" 
 
 "You know Alexandria better than I," answered Hermas, 
 evasively. " You were born there, and they say you had been 
 a rich young man." 
 
 " Do they say so?" said Paulus. " Perhaps they are right; 
 but you must know that I am glad that nothing any longer 
 belongs to me of all the vanities that I possessed, and I thank 
 my Saviour that I can now turn my back on the turmoil of 
 men. What was it that seemed to you so particularly tempt- 
 ing in all that whirl?" 
 
 Hermas hesitated. He feared to speak, and yet something 
 urged and drove him to say out all that was stirring his soul. 
 If any one of all those grave men who despised the world and 
 among whom he had grown up, could ever understand him, 
 he knew well that it would be . Paulus; Paulus whose rough 
 beard he had pulled when he was little, on whose shoulders he 
 had often sat, and who had proved to him a thousand times 
 how truly he loved him. It is true the Alexandrian was the 
 severest of them all, but he was harsh only to himself. Her- 
 mas must once for all unburden his heart, and with sudden de- 
 cision he asked the anchorite : 
 
 " Did you often visit the baths?" 
 
 "Often? I only wonder that I did not melt away and fall 
 to pieces in the warm water like a wheaten loaf. " 
 
 ' Why do you laugh at that which makes men beautiful?" 
 cried Hermas, hastily. " Why may Christians even visit the 
 baths in Alexandria, while we up here, you and my father and 
 all anchorites, only use water to quench our thirst. You com- 
 pel me to live like one of you, and I do not like being a dirty 
 betist. ' ' 
 
 " None can see us but the Most High," answered Paulus, 
 " and for Hun we cleanse and beautify our souls." 
 
 " But the Lord gave us our body too," interrupted Hermas.
 
 24 HOMO SUM. 
 
 " It is written that man is the image of God. And we! I ap- 
 peared to myself as repulsive as a hideous ape when at the 
 great baths by the Gate of the Sun I saw the youths and men 
 with beautifully arranged and scented hair and smooth limbs 
 that shone with cleanliness and purification. And as they went 
 past, and I looked at my mangy sheep-fell, and thought of my 
 wild mane and my arms and feet, which are no worse formed 
 or weaker than theirs were, I turned hot and cold, and I felt 
 as if some bitter drink were choking me. I should have liked 
 to howl out with shame and envy and vexation. I will not be 
 like a monster!" 
 
 Hernias ground his teeth as he spoke the last words, and 
 Paulus looked uneasily at him as he went on: 
 
 " My body is God's as much as my soul is, and what is 
 allowed to the Christians in the city " 
 
 " That we nevertheless may not do," Paulus interrupted 
 gravely. " He who has once devoted himself to Heaven must 
 detach himself wholly from the charm of life, and break one 
 tie after another that binds him to the dust. I, too, once upon 
 a time have anointed this body, and smoothed this rough hair, 
 and rejoiced sincerely over my mirror; but I say to you, 
 Hermas and, by my dear Saviour, I say it only because I feel 
 it, deep in my heart I feel it to pray is better than to bathe, 
 and I, poor wretch, have been favored with hours in which my 
 spirit has struggled free, and has been permitted to share as an 
 honored guest in the festal joys of heaven!" 
 
 While he spoke his wide open eyes had turned toward heaven 
 and had acquired a wondrous brightness. 
 
 For a short time the two stood opposite each other silent and 
 motionless; at last the anchorite pushed the hair from off his 
 brow, which was now for the first time visible.. It was well- 
 formed, though somewhat narrow, and its clear fairness formed 
 a sharp contrast to his sunburned face. 
 
 " Boy," he said with a deep breath, " you know not what 
 joys you would sacrifice for the sake of worthless tilings. Long 
 ere the Lord calls the pious man to heaven, the pious has 
 brought heaven down to earth in himself." 
 
 Hermas well understood what the anchorite meant, for his 
 father often for hours at a time gazed up into heaven in prayer, 
 neither seeing nor hearing what was going on around him, and 
 was wont to relate to his son, when he awoke from his ecstatic 
 vision, that he had seen the Lord or heard the angel choir. 
 
 He himself had never succeeded in bringing himself into 
 such a state, although Stephanus had often compelled him to 
 remain on his knees praying with him for many interminable
 
 EOMO SUM. 25 
 
 hours. It often happened that the old man's feeble flame of 
 life had threatened to become altogether extinct after these 
 deeply soul-stirring exercises, and Hernias would gladly have 
 forbidden him giving himself up to such hurtful emotions, for 
 he loved his father; but they were looked upon as special 
 manifestations of grace, and how should a son dare to express 
 his aversion to such peculiarly sacred acts? But to Paul us, and 
 in his present mood, he found courage to speak out. 
 
 " I have sure hope of Paradise," he said, " but it will be 
 first opened to us after death. The Christian should be 
 patient; why can you not wait for heaven. till the Saviour calls 
 you, instead of desiring to enjoy its pleasures here on earth? 
 This first and that after! Why should God have bestowed on 
 us the gifts of the flesh if not that we may use them? Beauty 
 and strength are not empty trifles, and none but a fool gives 
 noble gifts to another only in order to throw them away. " 
 
 Paulus gazed in astonishment at the youth, who up to this 
 moment had always unresistingly obeyed his father and him, 
 and he shook his. head as he answered: 
 
 " So think the children of this world who stand far from 
 the Most High. In the image of God are we made no doubt, 
 but what child would kiss the image of his father when the 
 father offers him his own living lips?'* 
 
 Paulus had meant to say " mother " instead of " father," 
 but he remembered in time that Hermas had early lost the 
 happiness of caressing a mother, and had hastily amended the 
 phrase. He was one of those to whom it is so painful to hurt 
 anotner that they never touch a wounded soul unless to heal 
 it, divining the seat of even the most hidden pain. 
 
 He was accustomed to speak but little, but now he went on 
 eagerly: 
 
 " By so much as God is far above our miserable selves, by so 
 much is the contemplation of Him worthier of the Christian 
 than that of his own person. Oh! who is indeed so happy as 
 to have wholly lost that self and to be perfectly absorbed in 
 God! But it pursues us, and when the soul fondly thinks 
 itself already blended in union with the Most High it cries out, 
 ' Here am I !' and drags our nobler part down again into the 
 dust. It is bad enough that we must hinder the flight of the 
 soul, and are forced to nourish and strengthen the perishable 
 part of our being with bread and water and slothful sleep, to 
 the injury of the immortal part, however much we may fast 
 and watch. And shall we indulge the flesh, to the detriment 
 of the spirit, by granting it any of its demands that can be 
 easily denied? Only he who despises and sacrifices his wretched
 
 26 HOMO SUM. 
 
 self can, when he has lost his baser self, by the Redeemer's 
 grace, find himself again in God. " 
 
 Hermas had listened patiently to the anchorite, but he now 
 shook his head, and said : 
 
 " I can not understand either you or my father. So long as 
 I walk on this earth I am I and no other. After death, no 
 doubt, but not till then, will a new and eternal life begin." 
 
 " Not so," cried Paulus, hastily, interrupting him. " That 
 other and higher life of which you speak does not begin only 
 after death for him who while yet he lives does not cease from 
 dying, from mortifying the flesh, and from subduing its lusts, 
 from casting from him the world and his baser self, and from 
 seeking the Lord. It has been vouchsafed to many even in 
 the midst of life to be born again to a higher existence. Look 
 at me, the basest of the base. I am not two but one, and yet 
 am I in the sight of the Lord as certainly another man than I 
 was before grace found me, as this young shoot, which has 
 grown from the roots of an overthrown palm-tree is another 
 tree than the rotten trunk. I was a heathen and enjoyed 
 every pleasure of the earth to the utmost; then I became a 
 Christian ; the grace of the Lord fell upon me, and I was born 
 again, and became a child again, but this time the Reedeemer 
 be praised! the child of the Lord. In the midst of life I died, I 
 rose again, I found the joys of heaven. I had been Menander, 
 and like unto Saul I became Paulus. All that Menander 
 loved baths, feasts, theaters, horses and chariots, games in 
 the arena, anointed limbs, roses and garlands, purple, gar- 
 ments, wine and the love of women lie behind me like some 
 foul bog out of which a traveler has struggled with difficulty. 
 Not a vein of the old man survives in the new, and a new life 
 has begun for me, midway to the grave; nor for me only, but 
 for all pious men. For you, too, the hour will sound, in which 
 you will die too " 
 
 " If only I, like you, had been a Menander," cried Hermas, 
 sharply interrupting the speaker. " How is it possible to cast 
 away that which I never possessed? In order to die one first 
 must live. This wretched life seems to me contemptible, and 
 I am weary of running after you like a calf after a cow. I am 
 free-born and of noble race; my father himself has told me 
 so, and I am certainly no feebler in body than the citizens' 
 sons in the town with whom I went from the baths to the 
 wrestling-school. " 
 
 " Did you go the Palaestra?" asked Paulus, in surprise. 
 
 " To the wrestling-school of Timagetus," cried Hermas, 
 coloring. " From outside the gate I watched the games of the
 
 HOMO SUM. 27 
 
 youths as they wrestled and threw heavy disks at a mark. 
 My eyes almost sprung out of my head at the sight, and I 
 could have cried out aloud with envy and vexation at having 
 to stand there in my ragged sheep-skin excluded from all com- 
 petition. If Pachomius had not just then come up, by the 
 Lord I must have sprung into the arena, and have challenged 
 the strongest of them all to wrestle with me, and I could have 
 thrown the disk much further than the scented puppy who 
 won the victory and was crowned." 
 
 " You may thank Pachomius/' said Paulus, laughing, " for 
 having hindered you, for you would have earned nothing in 
 the arena but mockery and disgrace. You are strong enough, 
 certainly, but the art of the discobolus must be learned like 
 any other. Hercules himself would be beaten at that game 
 without practice, and if he did not know the right way to 
 handle the disk. " 
 
 " It would not have been the first time I had thrown one/' 
 cried the boy. " See what I can do!" With these words he 
 stooped and raised one of the flat stones, which lay piled up 
 to secure the pathway; extending his arm with all his strength, 
 he flung the granite disk over the precipice away into the abyss. 
 
 " There you see," cried Paulus, who had watched the throw 
 carefully and not without some anxious excitement. " How- 
 ever strong your arm may be, any novice could throw further 
 than you if only he knew the art of holding the discus. It is 
 not so not so; it must cut through the air like a knife with 
 its sharp edge. Look how you hold your hand you throw like 
 a woman ! The wrist straight, and now your left foot behind, 
 and your knee bent! see, how clumsy you are! Here, give me 
 the stone. You take the discus so, then you bend your body, 
 and press down your knees like the arc of a bow, so that every 
 sinew in your body helps to speed the shot when you let go. 
 Ay that is better, but it is not quite right yet. First heave 
 the discus with your arm stretched out, then fix your eye on 
 the mark; now swing it out high behind you stop! once 
 more! your arm must be more strongly strained before you 
 throw. That might pass, but you ought to be able to hit the 
 palm-tree yonder. Give me your discus and that stone. 
 There, the unequal corners hinder its flight now pay atten- 
 tion!" Paulus spoke with growing eagerness, and now he 
 grasped the flat stone, as he might have done many years since 
 when no youth in Alexandria had been his match in throwing 
 the discus. 
 
 He bent his knees, stretched out his body, gave play to his 
 wrist, extended his arm to the utmost, and hurled the stone
 
 28 HOMO SUM. 
 
 into space, while the clinched toes of his right foot deeply 
 dinted the soil. 
 
 But it fell to the ground before reaching the palm, which 
 Paulus had indicated as the mark. 
 
 " Wait!" cried Hermas. " Let me try now to hit the tree/' 
 
 His stone whistled through the air, but it did not even reach 
 the mound into which the palm-tree had struck root. 
 
 Paulus shook his head disapprovingly, and in his turn seized 
 a flat stone; and now an eager contest began. At every throw 
 Hermas's stone flew further, for he copied his teacher's action 
 and grasp with increasing skill, while the older man's arm 
 began to tire. At last Hermas for the second time hit the 
 palm-tree, while Paulus had failed to reach even the mound 
 with his last fling. 
 
 The pleasure of the contest took stronger possession of the 
 anchorite; he flung his raiment from him, and seizing another 
 stone he cried out as though he were standing once more in 
 the wrestling-school among his old companions, all shining with 
 their anointment: 
 
 " By the silver-bowed Apollo, and the arrow-speeding Arte- 
 mis, I will hit the palm-tree. " 
 
 The missile sung through the air, his body sprung back, and 
 he stretched out his left arm to save his tottering balance; 
 there was a crash, the tree quivered under the blow, and 
 Hermas shouted, joyfully: 
 
 " Wonderful! wonderful! that was indeed a throw. The 
 old Menander is not dead! Farewell to-morrow we will try 
 again. " 
 
 With these words Hermas quitted the anchorite, and hastened 
 with wide leaps down the hill in the oasis. 
 
 Paulus started at the words like a sleep-walker who is sud- 
 denly wakened by hearing his name called. He looked about 
 him in bewilderment, as if he had to find his way in some 
 strange world. Drops of sweat stood on his brow, and with 
 sudden shame he snatched up his garments that were lying on 
 the ground, and covered his naked limbs. 
 
 For some time he stood gazing after Hermas, then he clasped 
 his brow in deep anguish, and large tears ran down upon his 
 beard. 
 
 " What have I said?" he muttered to himself. < That 
 every vein of the old man in me was extirpated? Fool! vain 
 madman that I am. They named me Paulus, and I am in 
 truth Saul, ay, and worse than Saul!" 
 
 With these words he threw, himself on his knees, pressing 
 his forehead against the hard rock, and began to pray. He
 
 HOMO SUM. 29 
 
 felt as if lie had been flung from a height on to spears and 
 lances, as if his heart and soul were bleeding, and while he 
 remained there, dissolved in grief and prayer, accusing and 
 condemning himself, he felt not the burning of the sun as it 
 mounted in the sky, heeded not the flight of time, nor heard 
 the approach of a party of pilgrims, who, under the guidance 
 of Bishop Agapitus, were visiting the holy places. The 
 palmers saw him at prayer, heard his sobs, and, marveling at 
 his piety, at a sign from their pastor they knelt down behind 
 him. 
 
 When Paulus at last rose he perceived with surprise and 
 alarm the witnesses of his devotions, and approached Agapitus 
 to kiss his robe. But the bishop said: 
 
 " Not so; he that is most pious is the greatest among us. 
 My friends, let us bow down before this saintly man!" 
 
 The pilgrims obeyed his command. Paulus hid his face in 
 his hands and sobbed out: 
 
 ." Wretch, wretch that I am!" 
 
 And the pilgrims lauded his humility and followed their 
 leader, who left the spot. 
 
 CHAPTER m. 
 
 HERMAS had hastened onward without delay. He had al- 
 ready reached the last bend of the path he had followed down 
 the ravine, and he saw at his feet the long narrow valley and 
 the gleaming waters of the stream, which here fertilized the 
 soil of the desert. He looked down on lofty palms and 
 tamarisk shrubs . innumerable, among which rose the houses 
 of the inhabitants, surrounded by their little gardens and 
 small, carefully irrigated fields; already he could hear the 
 crowing of a cock and the hospitable barking of a dog, sounds 
 which came to him like a welcome from the midst of that life 
 for which he yearned, accustomed as he was to be surrounded 
 day and night by the deep and lonely stillness of the rocky 
 heights. 
 
 He stayed his steps, and his eyes followed the thin column 
 of smoke, which floated tremulously up in the clear light of 
 the ever mounting sun from the numerous hearths that lay 
 below him. 
 
 " They are cooking breakfast now," thought he, " the wives 
 for their husbands, the mothers for their children, and there, 
 where that dark smoke rises, very likely a splendid feast is 
 being prepared for guests; but I am nowhere at home, and no 
 one will invite me in."
 
 30 HOMO SUM. 
 
 
 
 The contest with Paulus had excited and cheered him, but 
 the sight of the city filled his young heart with renewed bitter- 
 ness, and his lips trembled as he looked down on his sheep- 
 skin and his unwashed limbs. With hasty resolve he turned 
 his back on the oasis and hurried up the mountain. By the 
 side of the brooklet that he knew of he threw off his coarse 
 garment, let the cool water flow over his body, washed him- 
 self carefully and with much enjoyment, stroked down his 
 thick hair with his fingers, and then hurried down again into 
 the valley. 
 
 The gorge through which he had descended debouched by a 
 hillock that rose from the valley plain; a small newly built 
 church leaned against its eastern declivity, and it was fortified 
 on all sides by walls and dikes, behind which the citizens 
 found shelter when they were threatened by the Saracen rob- 
 bers of the oasis. This hill passed for a particularly sacred 
 spot. Moses was supposed to have prayed on its summit dur- 
 ing the battle with the Amalekites, while his arms were held 
 up by Aaron and Hur. 
 
 But there were other notable spots in the neighborhood of 
 the oasis. There, further to the north, was the rock whence 
 Moses had struck the water; there, higher up and more to the 
 south-east, was the hill where the Lord had spoken to the law- 
 giver face to face, and where he had seen the burning bush; 
 there again was the spring where he had met the daughters of 
 Jethro, Zippora and Ledja, so called in the legend. Pious 
 pilgrims came to these holy places in great numbers, and 
 among them many natives of the peninsula, particularly 
 Nabateans, who had previously visited the holy mountain in ( 
 order to sacrifice on its summit to their gods, the sun, moon, 
 and planets. At the outlet, toward the north, stood a castle, 
 which ever since the Syrian Prefect, Cornelius Palma, had sub- 
 dued Arabia Petrasa in the time of Trajan, had been held by a 
 Roman garrison for the protection of the blooming city of the 
 desert against the incursions of the marauding Saracens and 
 Blemmyes. 
 
 But the citizens of Pharan themselves had taken measures 
 for the security of their property. On the topmost cliffs of 
 the jagged crown of the giant mountain the most favorable 
 spots for a look-out far and wide they placed sentinels, who 
 day and night scanned the distance, so as to give a warning- 
 signal in case of approaching danger. Each house resembled 
 a citadel, for it was built of strong masonry, and the younger 
 men were all well exercised bowmen. The more distinguished 
 families dwelt near the church-hill, and there, too, stood the
 
 HOMO SUM. 31 
 
 houses of the bishop Agapitus, and of the city councilors of 
 Pharan. 
 
 Among these the senator Petrus enjoyed the greatest re- 
 spect, partly by reason of his solid abilities, and of his posses- 
 sions in quarries, garden ground, date-palms, and cattle; partly 
 in consequence of the rare qualities of his wife, the deaconess 
 Dorothea, the granddaughter of the long-deceased and venera- 
 ble Bishop Chaerernon, who had fled hither with his wife during 
 the persecution of the Christians under Decius, and who had 
 converted many of the Pharanites to the knowledge of the 
 Redeemer. 
 
 The house of Petrus was of strong and well-joined stone, 
 and the palm-garden adjoining was carefully tended. Twenty 
 slaves, many camels, and even two horses belonged to him, 
 and the centurion in command of the Imperial garrison, the 
 Gaul Phoebicius, and his wife Sirona, lived as lodgers under his 
 roof; not quite to the satisfaction of the councilor, for the 
 Centurion was no Christian, but a worshiper of Mithras, in 
 whose mysteries the wild Gaul had risen to the grade of a 
 " Lion," whence his people, and with them the Pharanites in 
 general, were wont to speak of him as " the Lion." 
 
 His predecessor had been an officer of much lower rank but 
 a believing Christian, whom Petrus had himself requested to 
 live in his house, and when, about a year since, the Lion 
 Phcebicius had taken the place of the pious Pankratius, the 
 senator could not refuse him the quarters, which had- become 
 a right. 
 
 Hermas went shyly and timidly toward the court of Petrus' 
 house, and his embarrassment increased when he found himself 
 in the hall of the stately stone-house, which he had entered 
 without let or hinderance, and did not know which way to 
 turn. There was no one there to direct him, and he dared not 
 go np the stairs which led to the upper story, although it 
 seemed that Petrus must be there. Yes, there was no doubt, 
 for he heard talking overhead and clearly distinguished the 
 senator's deep voice. Hermas advanced, and set his foot on 
 the first step of the stairs; but he had scarcely begun to go up 
 with some decision, and feeling ashamed of his bashf uluess, 
 when he heard a door fly open just above him, and from it 
 there poured a flood of fresh laughing children's voices, like a 
 pent up stream when the miller opens the sluice gate. 
 
 He glanced upward in surprise, but there was no time for 
 consideration, for the shouting troop of released little ones had 
 already reached the stairs. In front of all hastened a beautiful 
 young woman with golden hah'; she Avas laughing gayly, and
 
 32 HOMO SUM. 
 
 held a gaudily dressed doll high above her head. She came 
 backward toward the steps turning her fair face beaming with 
 fun and delight toward the children, who, full of their eager 
 longing, half demanding, half begging, half laughing, half 
 crying, shouted in confusion, " Let us be, Sirona," " Do not 
 take it away again, Sirona," "Do stay here, Sirona," again 
 and again, " Sirona Sirona." 
 
 A lovely six-year-old maiden stretched up as far as she could 
 to reach the round white arm that held the plaything; with 
 her left hand, which was free, she gayly pushed away three 
 smaller children, who tried to cling to her knees, and ex- 
 claimed, still stepping backward, " No, no; you shall not have 
 it till it has a new gown; it shall be as long and as gay as the 
 emperor's robe. Let me go, Csecilia, or you will fall down as 
 naughty Nikon did the other day. " 
 
 By this time she had reached the steps; she turned suddenly, 
 and with outstretched arms she stopped the way of the narrow 
 stair on which Hernias was standing, gazing open-mouthed at 
 the merry scene above his head. Just as Siroua was preparing 
 to run down, she perceived him and started; but when she saw 
 that the anchorite from pure embarrassment could find no 
 words in which to answer her question as to what he wanted, 
 she laughed heartily again and called out: 
 
 " Come up, we shall not hurt you shall we children?" 
 
 Meanwhile Hernias had found courage enough to give utter- 
 ance to his wish to speak with the senator, and the young 
 woman, who looked with complacency on his strong and youth- 
 ful frame, offered to conduct him to him. 
 
 Petrus had been talking to his grown-up elder sons; they 
 were tall men, but their father was even taller than they, and 
 of unusual breadth of shoulder. 
 
 While the young men were speaking he stroked his short 
 gay beard and looked down at the ground in somber gravity, 
 as it might have seemed to the careless observer; but any one 
 who looked closer might quickly perceive that not seldom a 
 pleased smile, though not less often a somewhat bitter one, 
 played upon the lips of the prudent and judicious man. He 
 was one of those who can play with their children like a young 
 mother, take the sorrows of another as much to heart as if 
 they were their own, and yet who look so gloomy, and allow 
 themselves to make such sharp speeches that only those who 
 are on terms of perfect confidence with them, cease to mis- 
 understand them and fear them. There was something fret- 
 ting the soul of this man, who nevertheless possessed all that 
 could contribute to human happiness. His was a thankful
 
 HOMO SUM. 33 
 
 nature, and yet he was conscious that he might have been 
 destined to something greater than fate had permitted him to 
 achieve or to be. He had remained a stone-cutter, but his 
 sons had both completed their education in good schools in 
 Alexandria. The elder, Antonius, who already had a house of 
 his own and a wife and children, was an architect and artist- 
 mechanic; the younger, Polykarp, was a gifted young sculp- 
 tor. The noble church of the oasis city had been built under 
 the direction of the elder; Polykarp, who had only come home 
 a month since, was preparing to establish and carry on works 
 of great extent in his father's quarries, for he had received a 
 commission to decorate the new court of the Sebasteion or 
 Cassareum, as it was called a grand pile in Alexandria with 
 twenty granite lions. More than thirty artists had competed 
 with him for this work, but the prize was unanimously ad- 
 judged to his models by qualified judges. .The architect whose 
 function it was to construct the colonnades and pavement of 
 the court was his friend, and had agreed to procure the blocks 
 of granite, the flags and the columns which he required from 
 Petrus's quarries, and not, as had formerly been the custom, 
 from those of Syene by the first Cataract. 
 
 Antonius and Polykarp were now standing with their father 
 before a large table, explaining to him a plan which they had 
 worked out together and traced on the thin wax surface of a 
 wooden tablet. The young architect's proposal was to bridge 
 over a deep but narrow gorge, which the beasts of burden were 
 'obliged to avoid by making a wide circuit, and so to make a 
 new way from the quarries to the sea, which should be shorter 
 by a third than the old one. The cost of this structure would 
 soon be recouped by the saving in labor, and with perfect cer- 
 tainty, if only the transport-ships were laden at Clysma with a 
 profitable return freight of Alexandrian manufactures, instead 
 of returning empty, as they had hitherto done. Petrus, who 
 could shine as a speaker in the council meetings, in private life 
 spoke but little. At each of his son's new projects he raised 
 his eyes to the speaker's face, as if to see whether the young 
 man had not lost his wits, while his mouth, only half hidden 
 by his gray beard, smiled approvingly. 
 
 When Antonius began to unfold his plan for remedying the 
 inconvenience of the ravine that impeded the way, the senator 
 muttered: " Only get feathers to grow on the slaves, and turn 
 the black ones into ravens and the white ones into gulls, and 
 then they might fly across. What do not people learn in the 
 metropolis!' 1 ' 
 
 When he heard the word " bridge " he stared at the young
 
 34 HOMO SUM. 
 
 artist. ."The only question," said he, "is whether Heaven 
 will lend us a rainbow. " But when Polykarp proposed to get 
 some cedar trunks from Syria, through his friend in Alexandria, 
 and when his elder son explained his drawings of the arch with 
 which he promised to span the gorge and make it strong and 
 safe, he followed their words with attention; at the same time 
 he knit his eyebrows as gloomily and looked as stern as if he 
 Avere listening to some narrative of crime. Still, he let them 
 speak on to the end, and though at first he only muttered 
 that it was mere " fancy-work " or, " Ay, indeed, if I were the 
 emperor," he afterward asked clear and precise questions, to 
 which he received positive and well considered answers. An- 
 tonius proved by figures that the profit on the delivery of 
 material for the Cassareum only would cover more than three- 
 quarters of the outlay. Then Polykarp began to speak, and 
 declared that the granite of the Holy Mountain was finer in 
 color and in larger blocks than that from Syeue. 
 
 " We work cheaper here than at the Cataract," interrupted 
 Anton ius. " And the transport of the blocks will not come 
 too dear when we have the bridge and command the road to 
 the sea, and avail ourselves of the canal of Trajan, which 
 joins the Nile to the Bed Sea, and which in a few months will 
 again be navigable. " 
 
 " And if my lions are a success/' added Polykarp, " and if 
 Zenodotus . is satisfied with our stone and our work, it may 
 easily happen that we outstrip Syene in competition, and that 
 some of the enormous orders that now flow from Constantino's 
 new residence to the quarries at Syene may find their way to 
 us." 
 
 "Polykarp is not oversanguiue, " continued Antonius, 
 " for the emperor is beautifying and adding to Byzantium 
 with eager haste. Whoever erects a new house has a yearly 
 allowance of corn, and in order to attract folks of our stamp 
 of whom he can not get enough he promises entire exemption 
 from taxation to all sculptors, architects, and even to skilled 
 laborers. If we finish the blocks and pillars here exactly to 
 the designs, they will take up no superfluous room in the ships, 
 and no one will be able to deliver them so cheaply as we." 
 
 " -No, nor so good," cried Polykarp, "for you yourself are 
 an artist, father, and understand stone-work as well as any 
 man. I never saw a finer or more equally colored granite 
 than the block you picked out for my first lion. I am finish- 
 ing it here on the spot, and I fancy it will make a show. Cer- 
 tainly it will be difficult to take a foremost place among the
 
 HOMO SUM. 35 
 
 noble works of the most splendid period of art, which already 
 filled the Cassareum, but I will do my best." 
 
 " The lions will be admirable," cried Antonius, with a 
 glance of pride at his brother. " Nothing like them has been 
 done by any one these ten years, and I know the Alexandrians. 
 If the master's work is praised that is made out of granite 
 from the Holy Mountain, all the world will have granite from 
 thence and from nowhere else. It all depends on Avhether the 
 transport of the stone to the sea can be made less difficult and 
 costly. " 
 
 " Let us try it, then," said Petrus, who during his sons' talk 
 had walked up and down before them in silence. " Let us try 
 the building of the bridge, in the name of the Lord. We will 
 work out the road if the municipality will declare themselves 
 ready to bear half the cost; not otherwise, and I tell you 
 frankly, you have both grown most able men." 
 
 The younger son grasped his father's hand and pressed it with 
 warm affection to his lips. Petrus hastily stroked his brown 
 locks, then he offered his strong right arm to his eldest-born, 
 and said: 
 
 " We must increase the number of our slaves. Call your 
 mother, Polykarp." 
 
 The youth obeyed with cheerful alacrity, and when Dame 
 Dorothea who was sitting at the loom with her daughter 
 Marthana and some of her female slaves saw him rush into 
 the women's room with a glowing face, she rose with youthful 
 briskness in spite of her stout and dignified figure, and called 
 out to her son: 
 
 " He has approved of your plans?" 
 
 "Bridge and all, mother everything," cried the young 
 man. " Finer granite for my lions than my father has 
 picked out for me is nowhere to be found, and how glad I 
 am for Antonius! only we must have patience about the road- 
 way. He wants to speak to you at once. " 
 
 Dorothea signed to her son to moderate his ecstasy, for he 
 had seized her hand and was pulling her away with him; but 
 the tears that stood in her kind eyes testified how deeply she 
 sympathized in her favorite's excitement. 
 
 " Patience, patience, I am coming directly," cried she, 
 drawing away her hand in order to arrange her dress and her 
 gray hair, which was abundant and carefully dressed, and 
 formed a meet setting for her still pleasing and un wrinkled 
 face. 
 
 " I knew it would be so; when you have a reasonable thing 
 to propose to your father, he will listen to you and agree with
 
 36 HOMO SUM. 
 
 you without any intervention; women should not mix them- 
 selves up with men's work. Youth draws a strong bow and 
 often shoots beyond the mark. It would be a pretty thing if 
 out of foolish affection for you I were to try to play the siren 
 that should insnare the steersman of the house your father 
 with nattering words. You laugh at the gray-haired siren? 
 But love overlooks the ravages of years and has a good memory 
 for all that once was pleasing. Besides, men have not always 
 wax in their ears when they should have. Come now to your 
 father." 
 
 Dorothea went out past Polykarp and her daughter. The 
 former held his sister back by the hand and asked: 
 
 " Was not Sirona with you?" 
 
 The sculptor tried to appear quite indifferent, but he 
 blushed as he spoke; Marthaua observed this and replied, not 
 without a roguish glance : 
 
 ." She did show us her pretty face; but important business 
 called her away. " 
 
 " Sirona?" asked Polykarp, incredulously. 
 
 "Certainly, why not!" answered Marthana, laughing. 
 " She had to sew a new gown for the children's doll." 
 
 " Why do you mock at her kindness?" said Polykarp, re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 " How sensitive you are!" said Marthana, softly. " Sirona 
 is as kind and sweet as an angel; but you had better look at 
 her rather less, for she is not one of us, and repulsive as the 
 choleric centurion is to me " 
 
 She said no more, for Dame Dorothea, having reached the 
 door of the sitting-room, looked round for her children. 
 
 Petrus received his wife with no less gravity than was usual 
 with him, but there was an arch sparkle in his half-closed 
 eyes as he asked: 
 
 " You scarcely know what is going on, I suppose?" 
 
 "You are madmen, who would fain take Heaven by 
 storm," she answered, gayly. 
 
 " If the undertaking fails," said Petrus, pointing to his 
 sons, " those young ones will feel the loss longer than we 
 shall." 
 
 " But it will succeed," cried Dorothea. " An old com- 
 mander and young soldiers can win any battle. " She held 
 out her small, plump hand with frank briskness to her hus- 
 band; he clasped it cheerily and said: 
 
 " I think I can carry the project for the road through the 
 senate, To build our bridge we must also procure helping
 
 HOMO SUM. 37 
 
 hands, and for that we need your aid, Dorothea. Our slaves 
 will not suffice." 
 
 " Wait," cried the lady, eagerly; she went to the window 
 and called: " Jethro, Jethro!" 
 
 The person thus addressed, the old house-steward, appeared, 
 and Dorothea began to discuss with him as to which of the in- 
 habitants of the oasis might be disposed to let them have some 
 able-bodied men, and whether it might not be possble to 
 employ one or another of the house-slaves at the building. 
 
 All that she said was judicious and precise, and showed that 
 she herself superintended her household in every detail, and 
 was accustomed to command with complete freedom. 
 
 " That tall Anubis, then, is really indispensable in the 
 stable?" she asked, in conclusion. The steward, who up to 
 this moment had spoken shortly and intelligently, hesitated to 
 answer; at the same time he looked up at Petrus, who, sunk 
 in the contemplation, of the plan, had his back to him; his 
 glance, and a deprecating movement, expressed very clearly 
 that he had something to tell, but feared to speak in the pres- 
 ence of his master. Dame Dorothea was quick of compre- 
 hension, and she quite understood Jethro's meaning; it was 
 for that very reason that she said, with more of surprise than 
 displeasure : 
 
 "What does the man mean with his winks? What I may 
 hear Petrus may hear too." 
 
 The senator turned, and looked at the steward from head to 
 foot with so dark a glance that he drew back and began to 
 speak quickly. But he was interrupted by the children's 
 clamors on the stairs and by Sirona, who brought Hernias 
 to the senator, and said, laugliing: 
 
 " I found this great fellow on the stairs; he was seeking 
 you." 
 
 Petrus looked at the youth, not \ery kindly, and asked: 
 
 " Who are you? what is your business?" 
 
 Hernias struggled in vain for speech; the presence of so 
 many human beings, of whom three were women, filled him 
 with the utmost confusion. His fingers twisted the woolly 
 curls on his sheep-skin, and his lips moved but gave no sound; 
 at last he succeeded in stammering out: " I am the son of old 
 Stephanas, who was wounded in the last raid of the Saracens. 
 My father has hardly slept these five nights, and how Paulus 
 has sent me to you the pious Paulus of Alexandria but you 
 know and so I " 
 
 "I see, I see, " said Petrus, with encouraging kindness. 
 " You want some medicine for the old man. See, Dorothea,
 
 38 HOMO SUM. 
 
 what a fine } r oung fellow he is grown; this is the little man 
 that the Antiochiau took with him up the mountain. " 
 
 Hermas colored and drew himself up; then he observed 
 with great satisfaction that he was taller than the senator's 
 sons, who were of about the same age as he, and for whom he 
 had a stronger feeling, allied to aversion and fear, than even 
 for their stern father. Polykarp measured him with a glance, 
 and said aloud to Sirona, with whom he had exchanged a 
 greeting, and off whom he had never once taken his eyes since 
 she had come in : 
 
 " If we could get twenty slaves with such shoulders as those 
 we should get on well. There is work to be done here, you 
 big fellow " 
 
 " My name is not ' fellow/ but Hernias/' said the anchorite, 
 and the veins of his forehead began to swell. 
 
 Polykarp felt that his father's visitor was something more 
 than his poor clothing would seem to indicate, and that he had 
 hurt his feelings. He had certainly seen some old anchorites, 
 who led a contemplative and penitential life up on the sacred 
 mountain, but it had never occurred to him that a strong 
 youth could belong to the brotherhood of hermits. So he said 
 to him, kindly: 
 
 " Hernias is that your name? We all use our hands here, 
 and labor is no disgrace; what is your handicraft?" 
 
 This question roused the young anchorite to the highest ex- 
 citement, and Dame Dorothea, who perceived what was pass- 
 ing in his mind, said, with quick decision: 
 
 " He nurses his sick father. That is what you do, my son, 
 is it not? Petrus will not refuse you his help. " 
 
 " Certainly not," the senator added; " I will accompany 
 you by and by to see him. You must know, my children, 
 that this youth's father was a great lord, who gave up rich 
 possessions in order to forget the world, where he had gone 
 through bitter experiences, and to serve God in his own way, 
 which we ought to respect though it is not our own. Sit down 
 there, my son. First we must finish some important business, 
 and then I will go with you. " 
 
 " We live high up on the mountain/' stammered Hermas. 
 
 " Then the air will be all the purer," replied the senator. 
 " But stay perhaps the old man is alone no? The good 
 Paul us, you say, is with him? Then he is in good hands, and 
 you may wait." 
 
 For a moment Petrus stood considering, then he beckoned 
 to his sons, and said: " Antonius, go at once and see about 
 some slaves you, Polykarp, find some strong beasts of burden.
 
 HOMO SUM. 39 
 
 You are generally rather easy with your money, and in this 
 case it is worth while to buy the dearest. The sooner you re- 
 turn well supplied the better. Action must not halt behind 
 decision, but follow it quickly and sharply, as the sound fol- 
 lows the blow. You, Marthaua,' mix some of the brown fever- 
 potion, and prepare some bandages; you have the key. " 
 
 " I will help her," cried Sirona, who was glad to prove 
 herself useful, and who was sincerely sorry for the sick old 
 hermit; besides, Hermas seemed to her like a discovery of her 
 own, for whom she involuntarily felt more consideration since 
 she had learned that he was the son of a man of rank. 
 
 While the young women were busy at the medicine cupboard 
 Antonius and Polykarp left the room. 
 
 The latter had already crossed the threshold, when he turned 
 once more and cast a long look at Sirona. Then, with a hasty 
 movement, he went on, closed the door, and with a heavy sigh 
 descended the stairs. 
 
 As soon as his sons were gone Petrus returned to the steward 
 again. 
 
 " What is wrong with the slave Anubis?" he asked. 
 
 "He is wounded, hurt/' answered Jethro, "and for the 
 next few days will be useless. The goat-girl Miriam the wild 
 cat cut his forehead with her reaping-hook." 
 
 " Why did I not hear of this sooner?" cried Dorothea, re- 
 provingly. -t " W T hat have you done to the girl?" 
 
 "We have shut her up in the hay-loft," answered Jethro, 
 " and there she is raging and storming. " The mistress shook 
 her head disapprovingly. " The girl will not be improved by 
 that treatment," she said. " Go and bring her to me." 
 
 As soon as the attendant had left the room she exclaimed, 
 turning to her husband: "One may well be perplexed about 
 these poor creatures when one sees how they behave to each 
 other. I have seen it a thousand times! No judgment is so 
 hard as that dealt by a slave to slaves!" 
 
 Jethro and a woman now led Miriam into the room. The 
 girl's hands were bound with thick cords, and dry grass clung 
 to her dress and rough black hair. A dark fire glowed in her 
 eyes, and the muscles of her face moved incessantly, as if she 
 had St. Vitus's dance. When Dorothea looked at her she 
 drew herself up defiantly and looked round the room, as if to 
 estimate the strength of her enemies. 
 
 She then perceived Hermas; the blood left her lips, with a 
 violent effort she tore her slender hands out of the loops that 
 confined them, covering her face with them, and fled to the 
 door. But Jethro put himself in her way, and seized her
 
 40 HOMO SUM. 
 
 shoulder with a strong grasp. Miriam shrieked aloud, and the 
 senator's daughter,, who had set down the medicines she had 
 had in her hand, and had watched the girl's movements with 
 much sympathy, hastened toward her. She pushed away the 
 old man's hand, and said: "Do not be frightened, Miriam. 
 Whatever you may have done, my father can forgive you. " 
 
 Her voice had a tone of sisterly affection, and the shepherd- 
 ess followed Marthana unresistingly to the table, on which the 
 plans for the bridge were lying, and stood there by her side. 
 
 For a minute all were silent; at last Dame Dorothea went 
 up to Miriam, and asked: " What did they do to you, my 
 poor child, that you could so forget yourself?" 
 
 Miriam could not understand what was happening to her; 
 she had been prepared for scoldings and blows, nay, for bonds 
 and imprisonment, and now these gentle words and kind looks! 
 Her defiant spirit was quelled, her eyes met the friendly eyes 
 of her mistress, and she said, in a low voice : 
 
 " He had followed me for such a long time, and wanted to 
 ask you for me as his wife; but I can not bear him I hate 
 him, as I do all your slaves. " At these words her eyes sparkled 
 wildly again, and with her old fire she went on: "I wish I had 
 only hit him with a stick instead of a sickle; but I took what 
 first came to hand to defend myself. When a man touches 
 me I can not bear it, it is horrible, dreadful! Yesterday I 
 came home later than usual with the beasts, and by the time 
 I had milked the goats, and was going to bed, every one in the 
 house was asleep. Then Anubis met me, and began chatter- 
 ing about love; I repelled him, but he seized me, and held me 
 with his hand here on my head and wanted to kiss me; then 
 my blood rose, I caught hold of my reaping-hook that hung 
 by my side, and it was not till I saw him roaring .on the 
 ground that I saw I had done wrong. How it happened I 
 Teally can not tell something seemed to rise, up in me some- 
 thing I don't know what to call it. It drives me on as the 
 wind drives the leaves that lie on the road, and I can not help 
 it. The best tiling you can" do is to let me die, for then you 
 would be safe once for all from my wickedness, and all would 
 be over and done with. " 
 
 " How can you speak so?" interrupted Marthaua. " You 
 are wild and ungovernable, but not wicked." 
 
 " Only ask him!" cried the girl, pointing with flashing eyes 
 to Hernias, who, on his part, looked down at the floor in con- 
 fusion. The senator exchanged a hasty glance with his wife; 
 they were accustomed to understand each other without speech, 
 and Dorothea said:
 
 HOMO SUM. 41 
 
 " He who feels that he is not what he ought to be, is already 
 on the high-road to amendment. We let you keep the goats 
 because you were always running after the flocks, and never 
 can rest in the house. You are up on the mountain before 
 morning prayer, and never come home till after supper is over, 
 and no one takes any thought for the better part of you. Half 
 of your guilt recoils upon us, and we have no right to punish 
 you. You need not be so astonished; every one sometimes 
 does wrong. Petrus and I are human beings like you, neither 
 more nor less; but we are Christians, and it is our duty to look 
 after the souls which God has intrusted to our care, be they 
 our children or onr slaves. You must go no more up the 
 mountain, but shall stay with us in the house. I shall will- 
 ingly forgive your hasty deed if Petrus does not think it neces- 
 sary to punish you." 
 
 The senator gravely shook his head in sign of agreement, 
 and Dorothea turned to inquire of Jethro : 
 
 " Is Anubis badly wounded, and does he need any care?" 
 
 " He is lying in a fever and wanders in his talk," was the 
 answer. " Old Praxinoa is cooling his wound with water. " 
 
 " Then Miriam can take her place and try to remedy the 
 mischief which she was the cause of," said Dorothea. " Half 
 of jour guilt will be atoned for, girl, if Anubis recovers under 
 your care. I will come presently with Marthana, and show 
 you how to make a bandage." The shepherdess cast down 
 her eyes, and passively allowed herself to be conducted to the 
 wounded man. 
 
 Meanwliile Marthana had prepared the brown mixture. 
 Petrus had his staff and felt hat brought to him, gave Hernias 
 the medicine and desired him to follow him. 
 
 Sirona looked after the couple as they went. " What a pity 
 for such a fine lad!" she exclaimed. "A purple coat would 
 suit him better than that wretched sheep-skin." 
 
 The mistress shrugged her shoulders, and signing to her 
 daughter, said: 
 
 ." Come to work, Marthana, the sun is already high. How 
 the days fly! the older one grows the quicker the tours hurry 
 away. " 
 
 " I must be very young, then," said the centurion's wife, 
 " for in this wilderness time seems to me to creep along fright- 
 fully slow. One day is- the same as another, and I often feel 
 as if life were standing perfectly still, and my heart pulses 
 with it. What should I be without your house and the chil- 
 dren! always the same mountain, the same palm-trees, the 
 same faces "
 
 43 HOMO SUM. 
 
 "But the mountain is glorious, the trees are beautiful!'* 
 answered Dorothea. ' ' And if we love the people with whom 
 we are in daily intercourse, even here we may be contented 
 and happy. At least we ourselves are, so far as the difficulties 
 of life allow. I have often told you what you want is work." 
 
 " Work! but for whom?*' asked Sirona. ' " If indeed I had 
 children like you! Even in Rome I was not happy far from 
 it; and yet there was plenty to do and to think about. Here 
 a procession, there a theater; but here! And for whom should 
 I dress even? My jewels grow dull in iny chest, and the 
 moths eat my best clothes. I am making doll's clothes now 
 of my colored cloak for your little ones. If some demon were 
 to transform me into a hedge-hog or a gray owl, it would be all 
 the same to me. *' 
 
 " Do not be so sinful/* said Dorothea, gravely, but looking 
 with kindly admiration at the golden hair and lovely sweet face 
 of the young woman. " It ought to be a pleasure to you to 
 dress yourself for your husband.'* 
 
 " For him!" said Sirona. " He never looks at me, or if he 
 does it is only to abuse me. The only wonder to me is that I 
 can still be merry at all; nor am I, except in your house, and 
 not there even but when I forget him altogether." 
 
 " I will not hear such things said not another word," in- 
 terrupted Dorothea, severely. " Take the linen and the cool- 
 ing lotion, Marthana; we will go and bind up Anubis's 
 wound. ** 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PETRUS went up the mountain side with Hernias. The old 
 man followed the youth, who showed him the way, and as he 
 raised his eyes from time to time, he glanced with admiration 
 at his guide's broad shoulders and elastic limbs. The road 
 grew broader when it reached a little mountain plateau, and 
 from thence the two men walked on side by side, but for some 
 time without speaking, till the senator asked: " How long now 
 has yonr father lived up on the mountain?** 
 
 " Many years," answered Hennas. "But I do not know 
 how many and it is all one. No one inquires about time up 
 here among us. " 
 
 " You have been with your father ever since he came?'* he 
 asked. 
 
 " He never lets me out of his sight,'* replied Hernias. " I 
 have been only twice into the oasis, even to go to the church. " 
 
 " Then you have been to no school?"
 
 HOMO SUM. 43 
 
 " To what school should I go! My father has taught me to 
 read the Gospels and I could write, but I have nearly forgotten 
 how. Of what use would it be to me? We live like praying 
 beasts." 
 
 Deep bitterness sounded in the last words, and Petrus could 
 see into the troubled spirit of his companion, overflowing as it 
 was with weary disgust, and he perceived how the active powers 
 of youth revolted in aversion against the slothful waste of life 
 to which he was condemned. He was grieved for the boy, 
 and he was not one of those who pass by those in peril without 
 helping them. Then he thought of his own sons, who had 
 grown up in the exercise and fulfillment of serious duties, and 
 he owned to himself that the fine young fellow by his side was 
 in no way their inferior, and needed nothing but to be guided 
 aright. He thoughtf idly looked first at the youth and then 
 on the ground, and muttered unintelligible words into his gray 
 beard as they walked along. Suddenly he drew himself up 
 and nodded decisively; he would make an attempt to save 
 Hernias; and, faithful to his own nature, action trod on the 
 heels of resolve. Where the little level ended the road divided; 
 one path continued to lead upward, the other deviated to the 
 valley and ended at the quarries. Petrus was for taking the 
 latter, Jout Hernias cried out: "That is not the way to our 
 cave; you must follow me/' 
 
 " Follow thou me!" replied the senator, and the words were 
 spoken with a tone and expression that left no doubt in the 
 youth's mind as to their double meaning. " The day is yet 
 before us, and we will see what my laborers are doing. Do 
 you know the spot where they quarry the stone?" 
 
 " How should I not know it?" said Hernias, passing the 
 senator to lead the way. "I. know eveiy path from our 
 mountain to the oasis and to the sea. A panther had its lair 
 in the ravine behind your quarries. " 
 
 " So we have learned," said Petrus. " The thievish beasts 
 have slaughtered two young camels, and the people can neither 
 catch them in their toils nor run them down with dogs. " 
 
 " They will leave you in peace now," said the boy, laugh- 
 ing. " I brought down the male from, the rock up there with 
 an arrow, and I found the mother in a hollow with her young 
 ones. I had a harder job with her; my knife is so baa, and 
 the copper blade bent with the blow; I had to strangle the 
 gaudy devil with my hands, and she tore my shoulder and bit 
 my arm. Look! there are the scars. But thank God, my 
 wounds heal quicker than my father's. Paulus says I am like 
 an earth-worm; when it is cut in two the two halves say good-
 
 44 fiOMO SUM. 
 
 bye to each other, and crawl off sound and gay, one one way, 
 and the other another way. The young panthers were so 
 funny and helpless I would not kill them, but I did them up 
 in my sheep-skin and brought them to my father. He 
 laughed at the little beggars, and then a Nabatsean took them 
 to be sold at Clysma to a merchant from Rome. There and at 
 Byzantium there is a demand for all kinds of living beasts of 
 prey. I got some money for them, and for the skins of the 
 old ones, and kept it to pay for my journey when I went with 
 the others to Alexandria to ask the blessing of the new 
 Patriarch. " 
 
 " You went to the metropolis?" asked Petras. " You saw 
 the great structures that secure the coast from the inroads of 
 the sea, the tall Pharos with the far-shining fire, the strong 
 bridges, the churches, the palaces and temples with their 
 obelisks, pillars, and beautiful paved courts? Did it never 
 enter your mind to think that it would be a proud thing to 
 construct such buildings?" 
 
 Hernias shook his head. " Certainly I would rather live in 
 an airy house with colonnades than in our dingy cavern, but 
 building would never be in my way. What a long time it 
 takes to put one stone on another! I am not patient, and 
 when I leave my father I will do something that shall win me 
 fame. But there are the quarries " Petrus did not let his 
 companion finish his sentence, but interrupted him with all 
 the warmth of youth, exclaiming: 
 
 ""-And do you mean to say that fame can not be won by the 
 arts of building? Look there at the blocks and flags, here at 
 the pillars of hard stone. These are all to be sent to Aila, 
 and there my son Antonius, the elder of the two that you saw 
 just now, is going to build a house of God, with strong walls 
 and pillars, much larger and handsomer than the church in 
 the oasis, and that is his work, too. He is not much older 
 than you are, and already he is famous among the people far 
 and wide. Out of those blocks down there my younger son 
 Polykarp will hew noble lions, which are destined to decorate 
 the finest building in the capital itself. When you and I a?id 
 all that are now living shall have been long since forgotten, 
 still it will be said: These are the work of the Master Polykarp, 
 the son of Petrus, the Pharauite. What he can do is certainly 
 a thing peculiar to himself. No one who is not one of the 
 chosen and gifted ones can say, ' I will learn to do that/ But 
 you have a sound understanding, strong hands and open eyes, 
 and who can tell what else there is hidden in you? If you 
 could begin to learn soon it would not yet be too late to make
 
 HOMO SUM. 45 
 
 a worthy master of you, but of course he who would rise so 
 high must not be afraid of work. Is your mind set upon 
 fame? That is quite right, and I am very glad of it; but you 
 must know that he who would gather that rare fruit must 
 water it, as a noble heathen once said, with the sweat of his 
 brow. Without trouble and labor and struggles there can 
 be no victory, and men rarely earn fame without fighting for 
 victory." 
 
 The old man's vehemence was contagious; the lad's spirit 
 was roused, and he exclaimed, warmly: 
 
 " What do you say that I am afraid of struggles and 
 trouble?- I am ready to stake everything, even my life, only 
 to win fame. But to measure stone, to batter defenseless 
 blocks with a mallet and chisel, or to join the squares with 
 accurate pains that does not tempt me. I should like to win 
 the wreath in the Palaestra by flinging the strongest to the 
 ground, or surpass all others as a warrior in battle; my father 
 was a slodier, too, and he may talk as much as he will of 
 ' peace/ and nothing but ' peace,' all the same in his 
 dreams he speaks of bloody strife and burning wounds. If 
 you only cure him I will stay no longer on this lonely moun- 
 tain, even if I must steal away in secret. For what did God 
 give me these arms, if not to use them?" 
 
 Petrus made no answer to these words, which came in a 
 stormy flood, from Hermas's lips, but he stroked his gray 
 beard, and thought to himself: " The young of the eagle does 
 not catch flies. I shall never win over this soldier's son to our 
 peaceful handicraft, but he shall not remain on the mountain 
 among these queer sluggards, for there he is being ruined, and 
 yet lie is not of a common sort." 
 
 When he had given a few orders to the overseer of his work- 
 men, he followed the young man to see his suffering father. 
 
 It was now some hours since Hermas and Paulus had left 
 the wounded anchorite, and he still lay alone in his cave. The 
 sun, as it rose higher and higher, blazed down upon the rocks, 
 whk-li began to radiate their heat, and the hermit's dwelling was 
 suffocatingly hot. The pain of the poor man's wound in- 
 creased, his fever was greater, and he was very thirsty. There 
 stood the jug which, Paul us had given him, but it was long 
 since empty, and neither Paulus nor Hermas hud come back. 
 He listened anxiously to the sounds in the distance, and fancied 
 at first that he heard the Alexandrian's footstep, and then that 
 he heard loud words and suppressed groans coming from his 
 cave. Stephanus tried to call out, but he himself could hardly
 
 46 HOMO SUM. 
 
 hear the feeble sound, which, with his wounded breast and 
 parched mouth, he succeeded in uttering. Then he fain would 
 have prayed, but fearful mental anguish disturbed his devo- 
 tion. All the horrors of desertion came upon him, and he who 
 had lived a life overflowing with action and enjoyment, with 
 disenchantment and satiety, who now in solitude carried on an 
 incessant spiritual struggle for the highest goal this man felt 
 himself as disconsolate and lonely as a bewildered child that 
 has lost its mother. 
 
 He lay on his bed of pain softly crying, and when he ob- 
 served by the shadow of the rock that the sun had passed its 
 noonday height, indignation and bitter feeling were added to 
 pain, thirst, and weariness. He doubled his fists and mut- 
 tered words which sounded like soldiers' oaths, and with them 
 the name now of Paulus, now of his son. At last anguish 
 gained the upper-hand of his anger, and it seemed to him as 
 though he were living over again the most miserable hour of 
 his life, an hour now long since past and gone. 
 
 He thought he was returning from a noisy banquet in the 
 palace of the Caesars. His slaves had taken the garlands of 
 roses and poplar leaves from his brow and breast, and robed 
 him in his night-dress; now, with a silver lamp in his hand 
 he was approaching his bedroom, and he smiled, for his 
 young wife was awaiting him, the mother of his Hermas. 
 She was fair, and he loved her well, and he had brought home 
 witty sayings to repeat to her from the table of the emperor. 
 He, if any one, had a right to smile. Now he was in the 
 anteroom, in which two slave-women were accustomed to 
 keep watch; he found only one, and she was sleeping and 
 breathing deeply; he still smiled as he threw the light upon 
 her face how stupid she looked with her mouth open! An 
 alabaster lamp shed a dim light hi the bedroom. Softly and 
 still smiling he went up to Glycera's ivory couch, and held up 
 his lamp, and stared at the empty and undisturbed bed and 
 the smile faded from his lips. The smile of that evening 
 came back to him no more through all the long years, for 
 Glycera had betrayed him, and left him him and her child. 
 All this had happened twenty years since, and to-day all that 
 he had then felt had returned to him, and he saw his wife's 
 empty couch with his " mind's eye " as plainly as he had then 
 seen it, and he felt as lonely and as miserable as in that night. 
 But now a shadow appeared before the opening of the cave, 
 and he breathed a deep sigh as he felt himself released from 
 the hideous vision, for he had recognized Paulus, who came 
 up and knelt down beside him.
 
 HOMO SUM. 47 
 
 " Water, water!" Stephanus implored in a low voice, and 
 Paulus, who was cut to the heart by the moaning of the old 
 man, which he had not heard till he entered the cave, seized 
 the pitcher. He looked into it, and, finding it quite dry, he 
 rushed down to the spring as if he were running for a wager, 
 filled it to the brim and brought it to the lips of the sick man, 
 who gulped the grateful drink down with deep draughts, and 
 at lust exclaimed, with a sigh of relief: " That is better; why 
 were you so long away? I was so thirsty!''* Paulus, who had 
 fallen again on his knees by the old man, pressed his brow 
 against the couch, and made no reply. Stephanus gazed in 
 astonishment at his companion, but perceiving that he was 
 weeping passionately he asked no further questions. Perfect 
 stillness reigned in the cave for about an hour; at last Paulus 
 raised his face, and said: " Forgive me, Stephanus. I forgot 
 your necessity in prayer and scourging, in order to recover the 
 peace of mind I had trifled away no heathen would have 
 done such a thing!" The sick man stroked his friend's arm 
 affectionately; but Paulus murmured: "Egoism, miserable 
 egoism guides and governs us. Which of us ever thinks of 
 the needs of others? An* we we who profess to walk in the 
 way of the Lamb!" 
 
 He sighed deeply, and leaned his head on the sick man's 
 breast, who lovingly stroked his rough hair, and it was thus 
 that the senator found him when he entered the cave with 
 Hernias. 
 
 The idle way of life of the anchorites was wholly repulsive 
 to his views of the task for men and for Christians, but he 
 succored those whom he could, and made no inquiries about 
 the condition of the sufferer. The pathetic union in which he 
 found the two men touched his heart, and, turning to Paulus, 
 he said, kindly: 
 
 " I can leave you in perfect comfort, for you seem to me to 
 have a faithful nurse. " 
 
 The Alexandrian reddened; he shook his head, and replied: 
 
 "I? I thought of no one but myself, and left him to suffer 
 and thirst in neglect, but now I will not quit him no, indeed, 
 I will not, and by God's help and yours, he shall recover." 
 
 Petrus gave him a friendly nod, for he did not believe in 
 the anchorite's self -accusation, though he did in his good- will; 
 and before he left the cave he desired Hernias to come to him 
 early on the following day to give him news of his father's 
 state. He wished not only to cure Stephanus, but to continue 
 his relations with the youth, who had excited his interest in
 
 48 HOMO SUM. 
 
 the highest degree, and he had resolved to help him to escape 
 from the inactive life which was weighing upon him. 
 
 Paulus declined to share the simple supper that the father 
 and son were eating, but expressed his intention of remaining 
 with the sick man. He desired Hernias to pass the night in 
 his dwelling, as the scanty limits of the cave left but narrow 
 room for the lad. 
 
 A new life had this day dawned upon the young man; all 
 the grievances and desires which had filled his soul ever since 
 his journey to Alexandria, crowding together in dull confusion, 
 had taken form and color, and he knew now that he could not 
 remain an anchorite, but must try his over-abundant strength 
 in real life. 
 
 " My father," thought he, " was a warrior, and lived in a 
 palace before he retired into our dingy cave; Paulus was 
 Meuander, and to this day has not forgotten how to throw the 
 discus; I am young, strong, and free-born as they were, and 
 Petrus says I might have been a fine man. I will not hew 
 and chisel stones like his sons, but Caesar needs soldiers, and 
 among all the Amalekites, nay, among the Romans in the oasis, 
 I saw none with whom I might not match myself. " 
 
 While thus he thought he stretched his limbs and struck 
 his hands on his broad breast, and when he was asleep he 
 dreamed of the wrestling-school, and of a purple robe that 
 Paulus held out to him, of a wreath of poplar leaves that 
 rested on his scented curls, and of the beautiful woman who 
 had met him on the stairs of the senator's house. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THAXKS to the senator's potion, Stephanus soon fell asleep. 
 Paulus sat near him and did not stir; he held his breath, and 
 painfully suppressed even an impulse to cough, so as not to dis- 
 turb the sick man's light slumbers. 
 
 An hour after midnight the old man awoke, and after he 
 had lain meditating for some time with his eyes open, he said, 
 thoughtfully : 
 
 " You called yourself and us all egotistic, and I certainly 
 am so. I have often said so to myself; not for the first time 
 to-day, but for weeks past, since Hernias came back from 
 Alexandria and seems to have forgotten how to laugh. He is 
 not happy, and when I ask myself what is to become of him 
 when I am dead, and if he turns from the Lord and seeks the* 
 pleasures of the world, the heart sickens. I meant it for the 
 best when I brought him with me up to the Holy Mountain,
 
 HOMO SUM. 49 
 
 but that was not the only motive it seemed to me too hard to 
 part altogether from, the child. My God! the young of brutes 
 are secure of their mother's faithful love, and his never asked 
 for him when she fled from my house with her seducer. I 
 thought he should at least not lose his father, and that if he 
 grew up far away from the world he would be spared all the 
 sorrow that it had so profusely heaped upon me. I would 
 have brought him up fit for Heaven, and yet through a life 
 devoid of suffering. And now and now? If he is miserable 
 it will be through me, and added to all my other troubles 
 comes this grief. ". 
 
 "You have sought out the way for him," interrupted 
 Paulus, " and the rest will be sure to come; he loves you and 
 will certainly not leave you so long as you are suffering. " 
 
 "Certainly not?" asked the man, sadly. "And what 
 weapons has he to fight through life with?" 
 
 " You gave him the Saviour for a guide; that is enough," 
 said Paulus, soothingly. " There is no smooth road from 
 earth to Heaven, and none can win salvation for another. " 
 
 Stephanus was silent for a long time, then he said : 
 
 " It is not even allowed to a father to earn the wretched ex- 
 perience of life for his son, or to a teacher for his pupil. We 
 may point out the goal, but the way thither is by a different 
 road for each of us." 
 
 "And we may thank God for that," cried Paulus. "For 
 Hermas has been started on the road which you and I had first 
 to find for ourselves." 
 
 "" You and I," repeated the sick man, thoughtfully. " Yes, 
 each of us has sought his own way, but has inquired only which 
 was his own way, and has never concerned himself about that 
 of the other. Self! self! How many years we have dwelt close 
 together, and I have never felt impelled to ask you what you 
 could recall to mind about your youth, and how you were led 
 to grace. I learned by accident that you were an Alexandrian, 
 and had been a heathen, and had suffered much for the faith, 
 and with that I was satisfied. Indeed, you do not seem very 
 ready to speak of those long past days. Our neighbor should 
 be as dear to us as ourself, and who is nearer to me than you? 
 Ay, self and selfishness! There are many gulfs on the road 
 toward God." 
 
 " I have not mnch to tell," said Paulus. " But a man 
 never forgets what he once has been. We may cast the old 
 man from us, nmd believe we have shaken ourselves free, when 
 lo! it is there again and greets us as an old acquaintance. If
 
 50 HOMO SUM. 
 
 a frog only once comes down from his tree he hops back into 
 the pond again/' 
 
 " It is true,, memory can never die!" cried the sick man. 
 " I can not sleep any more; tell me about your early life and 
 how you became a Christian. When two men have journeyed 
 by the same road, and the moment of parting is at hand, they 
 are fain to ask each other's name and where they came from." 
 
 Paulus gazed for some time into space, and then he began: 
 
 " The companions of my youth called me Meuander, the son 
 of Herophilus. Besides that, I know for certain very little of 
 my youth, for as I have already told you, I have long since 
 ceased to allow myself to think of the world. He who aban- 
 dons a thing, but clings to the idea of the thing, continues 
 
 " That sounds like Plato," said Stephanus, with a smile. 
 
 " All that heathen farrago comes back to me to-day," cried 
 Paulus. " I used to know it well, and I have often thought 
 that his face must have resembled that of the Saviour. " 
 
 " But only as a beautiful song might resemble the voice of 
 an angel," said Stephanus, somewhat dryly. "He who 
 plunges into the depths of philosophic systems " 
 
 " That never was quite my case," said Paulus. " I did 
 indeed go through the whole educational course; grammar, 
 rhetoric, dialectic, and music ' 
 
 " And arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy," added Ste- 
 phanus. 
 
 " Those were left to the learned many years since," con- 
 tinued Paulus, " and I was never very eager for learning. In 
 the school of rhetoric I remained far behind my fellows, and if 
 Plato was dear to me I owe it to Paedonomus of Athens, a 
 worthy man whom my father engaged to teach us. " 
 
 " They say he had been a great merchant," interrupted 
 Stephauus. " C#n it be that you were the son of that rich 
 Herophilus, whose business in Antioch was conducted by the 
 worthy Jew Urbib?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied Paulus, looking down at the ground 
 in some confusion. ' ' Our mode of lif e was almost royal, and 
 the multitude of our slaves quite sinful. When I look back 
 on all the vain trifles that my father had to care for, I feel 
 quite giddy. Twenty sea-going ships in the harbor of Eunos- 
 tus, and eighty Nile boats on Lake Mareotis belonged to him. 
 His profits on the manufacture of papyrus might have main- 
 tained a city full of poor. But we needed our revenue for 
 other things. Our Cyrsenian horses stood in marble stalls, 
 and the great hall, in which my father's friends were wont to 
 meet, was like a temple. But you see how the world takes
 
 HOMO SUM. 51 
 
 possession of us when we begin to think about it ! Eather let 
 us leave the past in peace. You want me to tell you more of 
 myself? Well, my childhood passed like that of a thousand 
 other rich citizens' sons, only my mother, indeed, was excep- 
 tionally beautiful and sweet, and of angelic goodness/' 
 
 " Every child thinks his own mother the best of mothers," 
 murmured the sick man. 
 
 " Mine certainly was the best to me," cried Paulus. " And 
 yet she was a heathen. When my father hurt me with severe 
 words of blame, she always had a kind word and loving glance 
 for me. There was little enough, indeed, to praise in me. 
 Learning was utterly distasteful to me, and even if I had done 
 better at school, it would hardly have counted for much to 
 my credit, for my brother Apollonius, who was about a year 
 younger than I, learned all the most difficult things as if they 
 were mere child's play, and in dialectic exercises there soon 
 was no rhetorician in Alexandria who could compete with him. 
 No system was unknown to him, and though no one ever knew 
 of his troubling himself particularly to study, he nevertheless 
 was master of many departments of learning. There were but 
 two things in which I could beat him in music and in all 
 athletic exercises; while he was studying and disputing I was 
 winning garlands in the palaestra. But at that time the best 
 master of rhetoric and argument was the best man, and my 
 father, who himself could shine in the senate as an ardent and 
 elegant orator, looked upon me as a half idiotic ne'er-do-well, 
 until one day a learned client of our house presented him with 
 a pebble on which was carved an epigram to this effect : * He 
 who would see the noblest gifts of the Greek race should visit 
 the house of Herophilus, for there he might admire strength 
 and vigor of body in Meuander, and the same qualities of mind 
 in Apollonius. ' These lines, which were written in the form 
 of a lute, passed from mouth to mouth, and gratified my 
 father's ambition; from that time he had words of praise for 
 me when my quadriga won the race in the Hippodrome, or 
 when I came home crowned from the wrestling-ring or tke 
 singing-match. My whole life was spent in the baths and the 
 palaestra, or in gay feasting." 
 
 " I know it all," exclaimed Stephanus, interrupting him, 
 " and the memory of it all often disturbs rne. Did you find it 
 easy to banish these images from your mind?" 
 
 "At first I had a hard fight," sighed Paulus. "But for 
 some time now, since I have passed my fortieth year, the 
 temptations of the world torment me less often. Only I must
 
 53 HOMO SUM. 
 
 keep out of the way of the carriers who bring fish from the 
 fishing towns on the sea., and from Raithu to the oasis. " 
 
 Stephanus looked inquiringly at the speaker, and Paulus 
 went on: 
 
 " Yes, it is very strange. I may see men or women the 
 sea yonder or the mountain here, without ever thinking of 
 Alexandria, but only of sacred tilings; but when the savor of 
 fish rises up to my nostrils I see the market and fish-stalls and 
 the oysters" 
 
 " Those of Kanopus are famous/' interrupted Stephanus; 
 " they make little pasties there " Paulus passed the back of 
 his hand over his bearded lips, exclaiming: " At the shop of 
 the fat cook Philemon in the street of Herakleotis. " 
 
 But he broke off, and cried, with an impulse of shame: " It 
 were better that I should cease telling of my past life. The 
 day does not dawn yet, and you must try to sleep." 
 
 "I can not sleep/' sighed Stephanus; " if you love me go 
 on with your story."/ 
 
 " But do not interrupt me again, then," said Paulus, and 
 he went on: 
 
 " With all this gay life I was not happy by no means. 
 When I was alone sometimes, and no longer sitting in the 
 crowd of merry boon companions and complaisant wenches, 
 emptying the wine-cup and crowned with poplar, I often felt 
 as if I were walking on the brink of a dark abyss as if every- 
 thing in myself and around me were utterly hollow and 
 empty. I could stand gazing for hours at the sea, and as the 
 waves rose only to sink again and vanish, I often reflected that 
 I was like them, and that the future of my frivolous present 
 must be a mere empty nothing. Our gods were of little ac- 
 count with us. My mother sacrificed now in one temple, and 
 now in another, according to the needs of the moment; my 
 father took part in the high festivals, but he laughed at the 
 belief of the multitude, and my brother talked of the 
 ' Primceval Unity,' and dealt with all sorts of demons and 
 magic formulas. He accepted the doctrine of lamblichus, 
 Ablavius, and the other Neoplatonic philosophers, which to 
 my poor understanding seemed either superhumanly profound 
 or else debasingly foolish; nevertheless my memory retains 
 many of his sayings, which I have learned to understand here 
 in my loneliness. It is vain to seek reason outside ourselves; 
 the highest to which we can attain is for reason to behold it- 
 self in us! As often as the world sinks into nothingness in 
 my soul, and I live in God only, and have Him, and compre- 
 hend him, and feel Him only then that doctrine recurs to
 
 HOMO SUM.' 53 
 
 me. How all these fools sought and listened everywhere for 
 the truth which was being proclaimed in their very ears! 
 There were Christians everywhere about me, and at that time 
 they had no need to conceal themselves, but I had nothing to 
 do with them. Twice only did they cross my path; once I 
 was not a little annoyed when, on the Hippodrome, a Christian's 
 horses, which had been blessed by a Nazarite, beat mine; and 
 on another occasion it seemed strange to me when I myself 
 received the blessing of an old Christian dock-laborer, having 
 pulled his sou out of the water. 
 
 " Years went on; my parents died. My mother's last glance 
 was directed at me, for I had always been her favorite child. 
 They said, too, that I was like her, I and my sister Arsinoe, 
 who, soon after my father's death, married the Prefect Pom- 
 pey. At the division of the property I gave up to my brother 
 the manufactories and the management of the business, nay, 
 even the house in the city, though, as the elder brother, I had 
 a right to it, and I took in exchange the land near the Kanopic 
 gate, and filled the stables there with splendid horses, and the 
 lofts with not less noble wine. This I needed, because I gave 
 up the days to baths and contests in the arena, and the nights 
 to feasting, sometimes at my own house, sometimes at a 
 friend's, and sometimes in the taverns of Kanopus, where the 
 fairest Greek girls seasoned the feasts with singing and danc- 
 ing. What have these details of the vainest worldly pleasure 
 to do with my conversion? you will ask. But listen awhile. 
 When Saul went forth to seek his father's asses he found a 
 crown. One day we had gone out in our gilded boats, and the 
 Lesbian girl Archidike had made ready a feast for us in her 
 house,. a feast such as could scarcely be offered even in Home. 
 
 " Since the taking of our city by Diocletian, after the insur- 
 rection of Achilleus, the Imperial troops who came to Alex- 
 andria behaved insolently enough. Between some of my 
 friends and certain of the young officers of Roman patrician 
 families there had been a good deal of rough banter for some 
 months past, as to their horses, women I know not what; 
 and it happened that we met these very gentry at the house of 
 Archidike. Sharp speeches were made, which the soldiers re- 
 plied to after their fashion, and at last they came to insidting 
 words and then to loud threats. The Romans left the house 
 of entertainment before we did. Crowned with garlands, sing- 
 ing, and utterly careless, we followed soon after them, and had 
 almost reached the quay when a noisy troop rushed out Of a 
 side street and fell upon us with naked weapons. The moon 
 was high in the heavens, and I could recognize some of our
 
 54 HOMO SUM. 
 
 adversaries. I threw myself on a tall tribune, throttled him, 
 and, as he fell, I fell with him in the dust; I am but dimly 
 conscious of what followed, for sword-strokes were showered 
 upon me, and all grew black before my eyes. I only know 
 what I thought then, face to face with death. " 
 
 11 Well?" asked Stephanus. 
 
 " I thought," said Paulus, reddening, " of my fighting- 
 quails at Alexandria, and whether they had had any water. 
 Then my dull heavy unconciousness increased; for weeks I lay 
 in that state, for I was hacked like sausage meat; I had twelve 
 wounds, not counting the slighter ones, and any one else 
 would have died of any one of them. You have often won- 
 dered at my scars." 
 
 " And whom did the Lord choose, then, to be the means of 
 your salvation?" 
 
 " When I recovered my senses," continued Paulus, " I Avas 
 lying in a large, clean room behind a curtain of light material ; 
 I could not raise myself; but, just as if I had been sleeping so 
 many minutes instead of days, I thought again directly of my 
 quails. In their last fight my best cock had severely handled 
 handsome Nikander's, and yet he wanted to dispute the stakes 
 with me, but I would assert my rights! At least the quails 
 should fight again, and if Nikander should refuse I would force 
 him to fight me with his fists in the Palasstra, and give him a 
 blue reminder of his debt on the eye. My hands were still 
 weak, and yet I clinched them as I thought of the vexatious 
 affair. ' I will punish him/ I muttered to myself. Then I 
 heard the door of the room open, and 1 saw three men respect- 
 fully approaching a fourth. He greeted them with dignity, 
 but yet with friendliness, and rolled up a scroll which he had 
 been reading. I would have called out, but I could not open 
 my parched lips, and yet I saw and heard all that was going 
 on around me in the room. It all seemed strange enough to 
 me then; even the man's mode of greeting was unusual. I 
 soon perceived that he who sat in the chair was a judge, and 
 that the others had come as complainants; they were all three 
 old and poor, but some good men had left them the use and 
 interest of a piece of land, During seed-time one of them, a 
 fine old man with locg white hair, had been ill, and -he had 
 not been able to help in the harvest either; ' and now they 
 want to withhold his portion of the corn/ thought I; but it 
 was quite otherwise. The two men who were in health had 
 taken a third part of the produce to the house of the sick 
 man, and he obstinately refused to accept the corn because he 
 had helped neither to sow nor to reap it, and he demanded of
 
 HOMO SUM. 55 
 
 the judge that he should signify to the other two that he had 
 no right to receive goods which he had not earned. The judge 
 had so far kept silence. But he now raised his sagacious and 
 kindly face and asked the old man : ' Did you pray for your 
 companions and for the increase of their labors?' 
 ' I did/ replied the other. 
 
 " ' Then by your intercession you helped them/ the judge 
 decided, ' and the third part of the produce is yours, and you 
 must keep it/ 
 
 " The old man bowed, the three men shook hands, and in a 
 few minutes the judge was alone in the room again. I did not 
 know what had come over me; the complaint of the men and 
 the decision of the judge seemed to me senseless, and yet both 
 the one and the other touched my heart. I went to sleep 
 again, and when I awoke refreshed the next morning, the judge 
 came up to me and gave me medicine, not only for my body, 
 but also for my soul, which certainly was not less in need of 
 it than my poor wounded limbs." 
 
 " Who was the judge?" asked Stephanus. 
 
 " Eusebius, the Presbyter of Kanopus. Some Christians 
 had found me half dead on the road, and had carried me into 
 his house, for the widow Theodora, his sister, was the deacon- 
 ess of the town. The two had nursed me as if I were their 
 dearest brother. It was not till I grew stronger that they 
 showed me the cross and the crown of thorns of Him who for 
 my sake also had taken upon Him such far more cruel suffer- 
 ing than mine, and they taught me to love His wounds, and 
 to bear my own with submission. In the dry wood of despair 
 soon budded green shoots of hope, and instead of annihilation 
 at the end of this life they showed me heaven and all its joys. 
 I became a new man, and before me there lay in the future an 
 eternal and blessed existence; after this life I now learned to 
 look forward to eternity. The gates of heaven were wide 
 open before me, and I was baptized at Kanopus. In Alex- 
 andria they had mourned for me as dead, and my sister Arsi- 
 noe, as heiress to my property, had already moved into my 
 country-house with her husband, the prefect. I willingly left 
 her there, and now lived again in the city, in order to support 
 the brethren, as the persecutions had begun again. This was 
 easy for me, as through my brother-in-law I could visit all the 
 prisons. At last I was obliged to confess the faith, and I 
 suffered much on the rack and in the porphyry quarries; but 
 every pain was dear to me, for it seemed to bring me nearer 
 to the goal of my longings, and if I find aught to complain of 
 i\p here on the holy mountain, it is only that the Lord deems
 
 56 HOMO SUM. 
 
 me unworthy to suffer harder things, when His beloved and 
 only Son took such bitter torments on himself for me and for 
 every wretched sinner/' 
 
 "Ah! saintly man!" murmured Stephanus, devoutly kiss- 
 ing Paulus's sheep-skin; but Paulus pulled it from him, ex- 
 claiming, hastily: 
 
 " Cease, pray cease he who approaches me with honors 
 now in this life throws a rock in my way to the life of the 
 blessed. Now I will go to the spring and fetch you some 
 fresh water. ' ' 
 
 When Paulus returned with the water-jar he found Hernias, 
 who had come to wish his father good-morning before he went 
 down to the oasis to fetch some new medicine ^from the senator. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 was sitting at the open window of her bedroom, 
 having her hair arranged by a black woman that her husband 
 had bought in Rome. She sighed, while the slave lightly 
 touched the shining tresses here and there with perfumed oil 
 which she had poured into the palm of her hand; then she 
 firmly grasped the long thick waving mass of golden hair and 
 was parting it to make a plait, when Sirona stopped her, say- 
 ing: " Give me the mirror/' 
 
 For some minutes she looked with a melancholy gaze at the 
 image in the polished metal, then she sighed again; she picked 
 up the little greyhound that lay at her feet, and placing it in 
 her lap, showed the animal its image in the mirror. 
 
 " There, poor larnbe," she said; " if we two, inside these 
 four walls, want to see anything like a pleasing sight we must 
 look at ourselves." 
 
 Then she went on, turning to the slave: " How the poor 
 little beast trembles! I believe it longs to be back again at 
 Arelas, and is afraid we shall linger too long under this burn- 
 ing sky. Give me my sandals/'* 
 
 The black woman reached her mistress two little slippers 
 with gilt ornaments on the slight straps, but Sirona flung her 
 hair off her face with the back of her hand, exclaiming: " The 
 old ones, not these. Wooden shoes even would do here. " 
 
 And with these words she pointed to the court-yard under 
 the window, which was in fact as ill-contrived as though gilt 
 sandals had never yet trodden it. It was surrounded by build- 
 ings; on one side was a wall with a gate-way, and on the other 
 buildings which formed a sharply bent horseshoe. 
 
 Opposite the wing in which 'Sirona and her husband had
 
 HOMO SUM. 57 
 
 found a home stood the much higher house of Petrus, and both 
 had attached to them, in the background of the court-yard, 
 sheds constructed of rough reddish-brown stones, and covered 
 with a thatch of palm branches; in these agricultural imple- 
 ments were stored, and the senator's slaves lived. In front 
 lay a heap of black charcoal, which was made on the spot by 
 burning the wood of the thorny sajal a Species of acacia; and 
 there, too, lay a goodly TOW of well-smoothed mill-stones, 
 which were shaped in the quarry and exported to Egypt. At 
 this early hour the whole unlovely domain lay in deep shadow, 
 and was crowded with fowls and pigeons. Sirona's window 
 alone was touched by the morning sun. If she could have 
 known what a charm the golden light shed over her figure, on 
 her rose and white face, and her shining hair, she would have 
 welcomed the day-star instead of complaining that it had too 
 early waked her from sleep her best comfort in her solitude. 
 
 Besides a few adjoining rooms, she was mistress of a larger 
 room, the dwelling-room, which looked out upon the street. 
 
 She shaded her eyes with her hand, exclaiming: " Oh! the 
 wearisome sun. It looks at us the first thing in the morning 
 through the window, as if the day were not long enough. The 
 beds must be put in the front room, I insist upon it." 
 
 The slave shook her head, and stammered an answer: 
 " Phcebicius will not have it so." 
 
 Sirona's eyes flashed angrily, and her voice, which was par- 
 ticularly sweet, trembled slightly as she asked: "What is 
 wrong with him again?" 
 
 "He says," replied the slave, "that the senator's son, 
 Polykarp, goes oftener past your window than altogether 
 pleases him ; and it seems to him that you occupy yourself 
 more than is necessary with his little brothers and sisters, and 
 the other children up there." 
 
 " Is he still in there?" asked Sirona, with glowing cheeks, 
 and she pointed threateningly to the dwelling-room. 
 
 " The master is out," stuttered the old woman. " He 
 went out before sunrise. You are not to wait for breakfast; 
 he will not return till late. " 
 
 The (Gaulish lady made no answer, but her head fell, and 
 the deepest melancholy overspread her features. 
 
 The greyhound seemed to feel for the troubles of his mis- 
 tress, for he fawned upon her, as if to kiss her. The solitary 
 woman pressed the little creature, which had come with her 
 from her home, closely to her bosom; for an unwonted sense 
 of wretchedness \\vighed upon her heart, and she felt as lonely, 
 friendless, and abandoned as if she were driving alone alone
 
 58 HOMO SUM. 
 
 over a wide and shoreless sea. She shuddered, as if she 
 were cold for she thought of her husband, the man who here 
 in the desert should have been all in all to her, but whose 
 presence filled her with aversion, whose indifference had ceased 
 to wound her, and whose tenderness she feared far more than 
 his wild irritability she had never loved him. 
 
 She ^had grown up free from care among a number of 
 brothers and sisters. Her father had been the chief account- 
 ant of the decurions' college in his native town, and he had 
 lived opposite the circus, where, being of a stern temper, he had 
 never permitted his daughters to look on at the games; but he 
 could not prevent their seeing the crowd streaming into the 
 amphitheater, or hearing their shouts of delight, and their 
 eager cries of approbation. 
 
 Sirona thus grew up in the presence of other people's pleas- 
 ure, and in a constantly revived and never satisfied longing to 
 share it; she had, indeed, no time for unnnecessary occupa- 
 tions, for her mother died before she was fully grown up, and 
 she was compelled to take charge of the eight younger chil- 
 dren. This she did in all fidelity, but in her hours of leisure 
 she loved to listen to the stories told her by the wives of offi- 
 cials who had seen and could praise the splendors of Eome the 
 golden. 
 
 She knew that she was fair, for she need only go outside the 
 house to hear it said; but though she longed to see the capital, 
 it was not for the sake of being admired, but because there 
 was there so much that was splendid to see and to admire. So, 
 when the Centurion Phcebicius, the commandant of the gar- 
 rison of her native town, was transferred to Rome, and when 
 he desired to take the seven teen -years-old girl witli him to the 
 Imperial City as his wife she was more than forty years 
 younger than he she followed him full of hope and eager 
 anticipation. 
 
 Not long after their marriage she started for Rome by sea 
 from Massilia, accompanied by an old relative; and he went 
 by- land at the head of his cohorts. 
 
 She reached their destination long before her husband, and 
 without waiting for him, but constantly in the society of her 
 old duenna, she gave herself up with the freedom and eager- 
 ness of her fresh youth to the delights of seeing and "admiring. 
 
 It did not escape her, while she did so, that she attracted all 
 eyes wherever she went, and however much this flattered and 
 pleased her at first, it spoiled many of her pleasures when the 
 Romans, young and old, began to follow and court her. At 
 last Phoebicius arrived, and when he found his house crowded
 
 HOMO SUM. 59 
 
 with his wife's admirers he behaved to Sirona as though she 
 had long since betrayed his honor. 
 
 Nevertheless, he dragged her from pleasure to pleasure, and 
 from one spectacle to another, for it gratified him to show 
 himself in public with his beautiful young wife. She certainly 
 was not free from frivolity, but she had learned early from her 
 strict father, as being the guide of her younger sisters, to dis- 
 tinguish clearly right from wrong, and the pure from the un- 
 clean; and she soon discovered that the joys of the capital, 
 which had seemed at first to be gay flowers with bright colors, 
 and redolent with intoxicating perfume, bloomed on the sur- 
 face of a foul bog. 
 
 She at first had contemplated all that was beautiful and pleas- 
 ant with characteristic delight; but her husband took pleasure 
 only in things which revolted her as being common and 
 abominable. He watched her every glance, and yet he pointed 
 nothing out to her but what was hurtful to the feelings of a 
 pure woman. Pleasure became her torment, for the sweetest 
 wine is repulsive when it has been tasted by impure lips. 
 After every feast and spectacle he loaded her with outrageous 
 reproaches, and when at last, weary of such treatment, she 
 refused to quit the house, he obliged her, nevertheless, to ac- 
 company him as often as the Legate Quintillus desired it. 
 The legate was his superior officer, and he sent her every day 
 some present of flowers. 
 
 Up to this time she had borne with him, and had tried to 
 excuse him, and to think herself answerable for much of what 
 she endured. But at last about ten months after her mar- 
 riage something occurred between her and Phcebicius some- 
 thing which stood like a wall of brass between him and her; 
 and as this something had led to his banishment to the remote 
 oasis, and to his degradation to the rank of captain of a miser- 
 able maniple, instead of his obtaining his hoped-for promotion, 
 he began to torment her systematically while she tried to pro- 
 tect herself by icy coldness ; so that at last it came to this, that 
 the husband, for whom she felt nothing but contempt, had no 
 more influence on her life than some physical pain which a 
 sick man is doomed to endure all through his existence. 
 
 In his presence she was silent, defiant and repellent, but as 
 soon as he quitted her, her innate warm-hearted kindliness 
 and child-like merriment woke up to new life, and their fairest 
 blossoms opened out in the senator's house among the little 
 troop who amply repaid her love with theirs. 
 
 Phoebicius belonged to the worshipers of Mithras, and he 
 often fasted in his honor to the point of exhaustion, while on
 
 60 HOMO SUM. 
 
 the other hand he frequently drank with his boon companions 
 at the feasts of the god till he was in a state of insensibility. 
 
 Here even, in Mount Sinai, he had prepared a grotto for the 
 feast of Mithras, had gathered together a few companions in 
 his faith, and when it happened that he remained out all day 
 and all night, and came home paler even than usual, she well 
 knew where he had been. 
 
 Just now she .vividly pictured to herself the person of this 
 man, with his eyes that now were dull with sleep and now 
 glowed with rage, and she asked herself whether it were indeed 
 possible that of her own free will she had chosen to become his 
 w r ife. Her bosom heaved with quicker breathing as she re- 
 membered the ignominy he had subjected her to in Rome, and 
 she clinched her small hands. At this instant the little dog 
 sprung from her lap and flew barking to the window-sill; she 
 was easily startled, and she drew on her morning-gown, which 
 had slipped from her wlu'te shoulders; then she fastened the 
 straps of her sandals, and went to look down into the court- 
 yard. 
 
 A smile played upon her lips as she perceived young Her- 
 mas, who had already been for some time leaning motionless 
 against the wall of the house opposite, and devouring with his 
 gaze the figure of the beautiful young woman. She had a 
 facile and volatile nature. Like the eye which retains no im- 
 pression of the disabling darkness so soon as the rays of light 
 have fallen on it, no gloom of suffering touched her so deeply 
 that the lightest breath of a new pleasure could not blow her 
 troubles to the winds. Many rivers are quite different in color 
 at their source and at their mouth, and so it was often with 
 her tears; she began to weep for sorrow, and then found it 
 difficult to dry her eyes for sheer overflow of mirth. It would 
 have been so easy for Phcebicius to make her lot a fair one! 
 for she had a most susceptible heart, and was grateful for the 
 smallest proofs of love. But between him and her every bond 
 was broken. 
 
 The form and face of Hermas took her fancy; she thought 
 he looked of noble birth in spite of his poor clothing, and when 
 she observed that his cheeks were glowing, and that the hand 
 in which he held the medicine vial trembled, she understood 
 that he was watching her, and that the sight of her had stirred 
 his youthful blood. A woman still more, a woman who is 
 pleased to please forgives any sin that is committed for her 
 beauty's sake, and Sirona's voice had a friendly ring in it as 
 she bade Hermas good-morning and asked him how his father 
 was, and whether the senator's medicine had been of service,
 
 HOMO SUM. 61 
 
 The youth's answers were short and confused, but his looks 
 betrayed that he would fain have said quite "other things than 
 those which Ins indocile tongue allowed him to reiterate 
 timidly. 
 
 " Dame Dorothea- was telling me last evening/' she said 
 kindly., " that Petrus had every hope of your father's recovery, 
 but that he is still very weak. Perhaps some good wine would 
 be of service to him not to-day but to-morrow or the day 
 after. Only come to me if you need it; we have some old 
 Falemiau in the loft, and white Mareotis wine, which is par- 
 ticularly good and wholesome." 
 
 Hernias thanked her, and as she still urged him to apply to 
 her in all confidence, he took courage and succeeded in stam- 
 mering rather than saying: "You are as good as you are 
 beautiful." 
 
 The words were hardly spoken when the topmost stone of 
 an elaborately constructed pile near the slaves' house fell down 
 with a loud clatter. Sirona started and drew back from the 
 window, the greyhound set up a loud barking, and Hernias 
 struck his forehead with his hand as if he were roused from a 
 dream. 
 
 In a few instants he had knocked at the senator's door; 
 hardly had he entered the house when Miriam's slight form 
 passed across behind the pile of stones, and vanished swiftly 
 and silently into the slaves' quarters. These were by this time 
 deserted by their inhabitants, who were busy in the field, the 
 house, or the quarries; they consisted of a few ill-lighted rooms 
 with bare, unfinished walls. 
 
 The shepherdess went into the smallest, where, on a bed of 
 palm-sticks, lay the slave that she had wounded, and who 
 turned over as with a hasty hand she promptly laid a fresh but 
 ill-folded bandage all askew on the deep wound in his head. 
 As soon as this task was fulfilled she left the room again, 
 placed herself behind the half-open door which led into the 
 court-yard, and, pressing her brow against the stone door-post, 
 looked first at the senator's house and then at Sirona's win- 
 dow, while her breath came faster and faster. 
 
 A new and violent emotion was stirring her young soul; not 
 many minutes since she had squatted peacefully on the ground 
 by the side of the wounded man, with her head resting on her 
 hand and thinking of her goats on the mountain. Then she 
 had heard a slight sound in the court, which any one else 
 would not have noticed; but she not only perceived it, but 
 knew with perfect certainty with whom it originated. She 
 could never fail to recognize Hernias' s footstep, and it had an
 
 G2 HOMO SUM. 
 
 irresistible effect upon her. She raised her head quickly from 
 her hand and her elbow from the knee on which it was resting, 
 sprung to her feet and went out into the yard. She was hid- 
 den by the mill-stones, but she could see Hermas lost in ad 
 miration. She followed the direction of his eyes and saw the 
 same image which had fascinated his gaze Sirona's lovely 
 form, flooded with sunlight. She looked as if formed out of 
 snow, and roses, and gold, like the angel at the sepulcher in 
 the new picture in the church. Yes, just like the angel, and 
 the thought flew through her mind how brown and black she 
 was herself, and that he had called her a she-devil. A sense of 
 deep pain came over her; she felt as though paralyzed in body 
 and soul; but soon she shook off the spell, and her heart began 
 to beat violently; she had to bite her lip hard with her white 
 teeth to keep herself from crying out with rage and anguish. 
 
 How she wished she could swing herself up to the window on 
 which Hermas's gaze was fixed, and clutch Sirona' s golden hair 
 and tear her down to the ground, and suck the very blood" 
 from her red lips like a vampire, till she lay at her feet as pale 
 as the corpse of a man dead of thirst in the desert. Then she 
 saw the light mantle slip from Sirona's shoulders, and observed 
 Hermas start and press his hand to his heart. 
 
 Then another impulse seized her. It was to call to her and 
 warn her of his presence; for even women who hate each other 
 hold out the hand of fellowship in the spirit when the sanctity 
 of woman's modesty is threatened with danger. She blushed 
 for Siroua, and had actually opened her lips to call when the 
 greyhound barked and the dialogue began. Not a word es- 
 caped her sharp ears, and when she told Sirona that she was as 
 good as she was beautiful she felt seized with giddiness; then 
 the topmost stone, by which she had tried to steady herself, 
 lost its balance, its fall interrupted their conversation, and 
 Miriam returned to the sick man. 
 
 Now she was standing at the door, waiting for Hermas. 
 Long, long did she wait; at last he appeared with Dorothea, 
 and she could see that he glanced up again at Sirona; but a 
 spiteful smile passed over her lips, for the window was empty 
 and the fair form that he had hoped to see again had vanished. 
 
 Sirona was now sitting at her loom in the front room, 
 whither she had been tempted by the sound of approaching 
 hoofs. Polykarp had ridden by on his father's fine horse, had 
 greeted her as he passed, and had dropped a rose on the road- 
 way. Half an hour later the old black slave came to Sirona, 
 who was throwing the shuttle through the warp with a skillful 
 hand.
 
 HOMO SUM. 63 
 
 " Mistress!'* cried the negress with a hideous grin; the lone- 
 ly woman paused in her work, and as she looked up inquiringly 
 the old woman gave her a rose. Sirona took the flower, blew 
 away the road-side dust that had clung to it, rearranged the 
 tumbled delicate petals with her finger-tips, and said, while she 
 seemed to give the best part of her attention to this occupa- 
 tion: 
 
 " For the future let roses lie when you find them. You 
 know Phcebicius, and if any one sees it, it will be talked 
 about." 
 
 The black woman turned away, shrugging her shoulders; 
 but Sirona thought: " Polykarp is a handsome and charming 
 man, and has finer and more expressive eyes than any other 
 here, if he were not always talking of his plans, and drawings, 
 and figures, and mere stupid grave things that I do not care 
 for!" 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE next day, after the sun had passed the meridian and it 
 was beginning to grow cool, Hermas and Paul us yielded to 
 Stephanus's wish, as he began to feel stronger, and carried him 
 out into the air. The anchorites sat near each other on a low 
 block of stone, which Hermas had made into a soft couch for 
 his father by heaping up a high pile of fresh herbs. They 
 looked after the youth, who had taken his bow and arrows, as 
 he went up the mountain to hunt a wild goat; for Petrus had 
 prescribed a strengthening diet for the sick man. Not a word 
 was spoken by either of them till the hunter had disappeared. 
 Then Stephanus said: 
 
 " How much he has altered since I have been ill. It is not 
 so very long since I last saw him by the broad light of day, and 
 he seems meantime to have grown from a boy into a man. 
 How self-possessed his gait is." 
 
 Paulus, looking down at the ground, muttered some words 
 of assent. He remembered the discus-throwing and thought 
 to himself: " The Palaestra certainly sticks in his mind, and 
 he has been bathing, too; and yesterday, when he came up 
 from the oasis, he strode in like a young athlete. " 
 
 That friendship only is indeed genuine when two friends, 
 without speaking a word to each other, can nevertheless find 
 happiness in being together. Stephanus and Paulus were 
 silent, and yet a tacit intercourse subsisted between them as 
 they sat gazing toward the west, where the sun was near its 
 setting.
 
 64 HOMO SUM. 
 
 Far below them gleamed the narrow, dark blue-green streak 
 of the Red Sea, bounded by the bare mountains of the coast 
 which shone in a shimmer of golden light. Close beside them 
 rose the toothed crown of the great mountain which, as soon 
 as the day-star had sunk behind it, appeared edged with a rib- 
 bon of glowing rubies. The flaming glow flooded the western 
 horizon, filmy veils of mist floated across the hilly coast-line, 
 the silver clouds against the pure sky changed their hue to the 
 tender blush of a newly opened rose, and the undulating shore 
 floated in the translucent violet of the amethyst. There not a 
 breath of air was stirring, not a sound broke the solemn still- 
 ness of the evening. Not till the sea was taking a darker and 
 still darker hue, till the glow on the mountain peaks and in 
 the west had begun to die away, and the night to spread its 
 shades over the heights and hollows, did Stephanus unclasp his 
 folded hands and softly speak his companion's name. Paulus 
 started and said, speaking like a man who is aroused from a 
 dream and who is suddenly conscious of having heard some 
 one speak: " You are right; it is growing dark and cool, and 
 you must go back into the cave. " 
 
 Stephanus offered no opposition and let himself be led back 
 to his bed; while Paulus was spreading the sheep-skin over the 
 sick man he sighed deeply. 
 
 " What disturbs your soul?" asked the older man. 
 
 " It is it was what good can it do me!" cried Paulus, in 
 strong excitement. " There we sat, witnesses of the most 
 glorious marvels of the Most High, and I, in shameless idolatry, 
 seemed to see before me the chariot of Helios with its glorious 
 winged horses, snorting fire as they went, and Helios himself 
 in the guise of Hernias with gleaming golden hair, and the 
 dancing houris, and the golden gates of the night. Accursed 
 rabble of demons " 
 
 At this point the anchorite was interrupted, for Hernias en- 
 tered the cave, and laying a young steinbock that he had killed 
 before the two men, exclaimed: "A fine fellow, and he cost 
 me no more than one arrow. I will light a fire at once and 
 roast the best pieces. There are plenty of bucks still on our 
 mountain, and I know where to find them. : ' 
 
 In about an hour father and sou were eating the pieces 
 of meat, which had been cooked on a spit. Paulus declined to 
 sup with them, for after he had scourged himself in despair 
 and remorse for the throwing of the discus, he had vowed a 
 strict fast. 
 
 " And now," cried Hernias, when his father declared liim- 
 self satisfied, after seeming to relish greatly the strong meat
 
 HOMO SUM. 65 
 
 from which he had so long abstained, " and now the best is to 
 come ! In this flask I have some strengthening wine, and when 
 it is empty it will be filled afresh." 
 
 Stephanus took the wooden beaker that his son offered him, 
 drank a little, and then said, while he smacked his tongue to 
 relish the after-taste of the noble juice: 
 
 " That is something choice! Syrian wine! only taste it, 
 Paulus. " 
 
 Paulus took the beaker in his hand, inhaled the fragrance of 
 the golden fluid, and then murmured, but without putting it 
 to his lips: 
 
 " This is not Syrian; it is Egyptian, I know it well. I 
 should take it to be Mareotis." 
 
 " So Sirona called it," cried Hermas, " and you know it by 
 the mere smell! She said it was particularly good for the 
 sick. " 
 
 " That it is," Paulus agreed; but Stephanus asked, in sur- 
 prise : 
 
 " Sirona? who is she?" % 
 
 The cave was but dimly lighted by the fire that had been 
 made at the opening, so that the two anchorites could not per- 
 ceive that Hermas reddened all over as he replied: " Sirona? 
 The Gaulish woman Sirona? Do you not know her? She is 
 the wife of a centurion down in the oasis. " 
 
 " How do you come to know her?" asked his father. 
 
 " She lives in Petrus's house," replied the lad, " and as she 
 had heard of your wound ' 
 
 1 Take her my thanks when you go there to-morrow morn- 
 ing," said Stephanus. " To her and her husband, too. Is he 
 a Gaul?" 
 
 "I believe so nay, certainly," answered Hermas; "they 
 call him the lion, and he is no doubt a Gaul. ' ' 
 
 When the lad had left the cave the old man laid himself 
 down to rest, and Paulus kept watch by him on his son's bed. 
 But Stephanus could not sleep, and when his friend approached 
 him to give him some medicine he said: " The wife of a Gaul 
 has done me a kindness, and yet the wine would have pleased 
 me better if it had not come from a Gaul." 
 
 Paulus looked at him inquiringly, and though total darkness 
 reigned in the cave Stephanus felt his gaze, and said : 
 
 " I owe no man a grudge and I love my neighbor. Great 
 injuries have been done me, but I have forgiven from the 
 bottom of my heart forgiven. Only one man lives to whom I 
 wish evil, and he is a Gaul." 
 
 3
 
 66 HOMO suit. 
 
 " Forgive him, too/' said Paulus, " and do not let evil 
 thoughts disturb your sleep." 
 
 " I am not tired," said the sick man, " and if you had gone 
 through such things as I have it would trouble your rest at 
 night, too." 
 
 " I know, I know," said Paulus, soothingly. " It was a 
 Gaul that persuaded your wretched wife into quitting your 
 house and her child." 
 
 "And I loved, oh! how I loved Glycera!" groaned the old 
 man. " She lived like a princess, and I fulfilled her every 
 wish before it was uttered. She herself had said a hundred 
 times that I was too kind and too yielding, and that there was 
 nothing left for her to wish. Then the Gaul came to our 
 house, a man as acrid as sour wine, but with a fluent tongue 
 and sparkling eyes. How he entangled Glycera I know not, 
 nor do I want to know; he shall atone for it in hell. For the 
 poor lost woman I pray day and night. A spell was on her 
 and she left her heart behind in my house, for her child was 
 there and she loved Hernias so fondly; indeed, she was deeply 
 devoted t^ me. Think what the spell must be that can an- 
 nihilate a mother's love! Wretch, hapless wretch that I am! 
 Did you ever love a woman, Paulus?" 
 
 " You ought to be asleep," said Paulus, in a warning tone. 
 " Who ever lived nearly half a century without feeling love! 
 Now I will not speak another word, and you must take this 
 drink that Petrns has sent for you." The senator's medicine 
 was potent, for the sick man fell asleep and did not wake till 
 broad day lighted up the cave. 
 
 Paulus was still sitting on his bed, and after they had prayed 
 together he gave him the jar which Hennas had filled with 
 fresh water before going down to the oasis. 
 
 " I feel quite strong," said the old man. " The medicine 
 is good; I have slept well and dreamed sweetly; but you look 
 pale and as if you had not slept." 
 
 "I," said Paulus " I lay down there on the bed. Now let 
 me go out in the air for a moment. " With these words he 
 went out of the cave. 
 
 As soon as he was out of sight of Stephanus he drew a deep 
 breath, stretched out his limbs and rubbed his burning eyes; 
 he felt as if there was sand gathered under their lids, for he 
 had forbidden them to close for three clays and nights. At the 
 same time he was consumed by a violent thirst, for neither food 
 nor drink had touched his lips for the same length of time. 
 His hands were beginning to tremble, but the weakness and 
 pain that he experienced filled him with silent joy, and he
 
 HOMO SUM. 67 
 
 would willingly have retired into his cave and have indulged, 
 not for the first time, in the ecstatic pain of hanging on the 
 cross and bleeding from five wounds in imitation of the Saviour. 
 
 But Stephanus was calling him, and without hesitation he 
 returned to him and replied to his questions; indeed it was 
 easier to him to speak than to listen, for in his ears there was 
 a roaring, moaning, singing, and piping, and he felt as if 
 drunk with strong wine. 
 
 " If only Hernias does not forget to thank the Gaul!" ex- 
 claimed Stephanus. 
 
 "Thank ay, we should always be thankful!" replied his 
 companion, closing his eyes. 
 
 " I dreamed of Glycera," the old man began again. " You 
 said yesterday that love had stirred your heart, too, and yet you 
 never were married. You are silent? Answer me something. " 
 
 " I who called me?" murmured Paulus, staring at the 
 questioner with a fixed gaze. 
 
 Stephanus was startled to see that his companion trembled 
 in every limb; he raised himself and held out to him the flask 
 with Sirona's wine, which the other, incapable of controlling 
 himself, snatched eagerly from his hand and emptied with 
 frantic thirst. The fiery liquor revived his failing strength, 
 brought the color to his cheeks, and lent a strange luster to 
 his eyes. "How much good that has done me!" he cried, 
 with a deep sigh and pressing his hands on his breast. 
 
 Stephanus was perfectly reassured and repeated his question, 
 but he almost repented of his curiosity, for his friend 's voice 
 had an utterly strange ring in it as he answered : 
 
 " No, I was never married never, but I have loved for all 
 that, and I will tell you the story from beginning to end; but 
 you must not interrupt me, no, not once. I am in a strange 
 mood perhaps it is the wine. I had not drunk any for so 
 long; I had fasted since since but it does not matter. Be 
 silent, quite silent, and let me tell my story." 
 
 Paulus sat down on Hermas's bed; he threw himself far 
 back, leaned the back of his head against the rocky wall of the 
 cavern through whose door-way the daylight poured, and began 
 thus, while he gazed fixedly into vacancy: 
 
 " What she was like? who can describe her? She was tall 
 and large like Hera, and yet not proud, and her noble Greek 
 face was lovely rather than handsome. 
 
 " She could no longer have been very young, but she had 
 eyes like those of a gentle child. I never knew her other than 
 very pale; her narrow forehead shone like ivory under her soft 
 brown hair; her beautiful hands were as white as her forehead
 
 68 HOMO SUM. 
 
 hands that moved as if they themselves were living and in- 
 spired creatures with a soul and language of their own. When 
 she folded them devotedly together it seemed as if they were 
 putting up a mute prayer. She was pliant in form as a young 
 palm-tree when it bends, and withal she had a noble dignity 
 even on the occasion when I first saw her. 
 
 " It was in a hideous spot, the revolting prison-hall of Rhya- 
 kotis. She wore only a threadbare robe that had once been 
 costly, and a foul old woman followed her about as a greedy 
 rat might pursue an imprisoned dove and loaded her with 
 abusive language. She answered not a word, but large heavy 
 tears flowed slowly over her pale cheeks and down on to her 
 hands, which she kept crossed on her bosom. Grief and 
 anguish spoke from her eyes, but no vehement passion de- 
 formed the regularity of her features. She knew how to en- 
 dure even ignominy with grace; and what words the raging old 
 woman poured out upon her! 
 
 " I had long since been baptized, and all the prisons were 
 open to me, the rich Menander, the brother-in-law of the pre- 
 fect those prisons in which under Maximiu so many Chris- 
 tians were destined to be turned from the true faith. 
 
 " But she did not belong to us. Her eye met mine, and I 
 signed my forehead with the cross, but she did not respond to 
 the sacred sign. The guards led away the old woman, and 
 she drew back into a dark corner, sat down, and covered her 
 face with her hands. A wondrous .sympathy for the hapless 
 woman had taken possession of my soul; I felt as if she be- 
 longed to me, and I to her, and I believed in her, even when 
 the turnkey had told me in coarse language that she had lived 
 with a Eomau at the old woman's, and had defrauded her of a 
 large sum of money. The next day I went again to the prison, 
 for her sake and my own; there I found her again in the same 
 corner that she had shrunk into the day before; by her side 
 stood her prison fare untouched a jar of water and a piece of 
 bread. 
 
 '" As I went up to her, I saw how she broke a small bit off 
 the thin cake for herself, and then called a little Christian boy 
 who had come into the prison with his mother, and gave him 
 the remainder. The child thanked her prettily, and she drew 
 him to her and kissed him with passionate tenderness, though 
 he was sickly and ugly. 
 
 " ' Ko one who can love children so well is wholly lost/ said 
 I to myself, and I offered to help her as far as lay in my power. 
 
 " She looked at me not without distrust, and said that noth- 
 ing had happened to her but what she deserved., and she
 
 HOMO SUM. 69 
 
 would bear it. Before I could inquire of her any further, we 
 were interrupted by the Christian prisoners, who crowded 
 round the worthy Ammonius, who was exhorting and com- 
 forting them with edifying discourse. She listened attentively 
 to the old man, and on the following day I found her in con- 
 versation with the mother of the boy to whom she had given 
 her bread. 
 
 " One morning I had gone there with some fruit to offer as 
 a treat to the prisoners, and particularly to her. She took an 
 apple, and said, rising as she spoke, ' I would now ask another 
 favor of you. You are a Christian, send me a priest, that he 
 may baptize me, if he does not think me unworthy, for I am 
 burdened with sins so heavily as no other woman can be. ' Her 
 large, sweet, child-like eyes filled again with big silent tears, 
 and I spoke to her from my heart, and showed her as well as I 
 could the grace of the Redeemer. Shortly after Ammonius 
 secretly baptized her, and she begged to be given the name of 
 Magdalen, and so it was, and after that she took me wholly 
 into her confidence. 
 
 " She had left her husband and her child for the sake of a 
 diabolical seducer, whom she had followed to Alexandria, and 
 who there had abandoned her. Alone and friendless, in want 
 and guilt, she remained behind with a hard-hearted and covet- 
 ous hostess, who had brought her before the judge, and so into 
 prison. What an abyss of the deepest anguish of soul I could 
 discover in this woman, who was worthy of a better lot ! What 
 is highest and best in a woman? Her love, her mother's 
 heart, her honor; and Magdalen had squandered and ruined 
 all these by her own guilt. The blow of overwhelming fate 
 may be easily borne, but woe to him whose life is ruined by 
 his own sin! She was a sinner; she felt it with anguish of re- 
 pentance, and she steadily refused my offers to purchase her 
 freedom. 
 
 " She was greedy of punishment, as a man in a fever is greedy 
 of the bitter potion which cools his blood. And, by the cruci- 
 fied Lord! I have found more noble humanity among sinners 
 than in many just men in priestly garb. Through the pres- 
 ence of Magdalen, the prison recovered its sanctity in my eyes. 
 Before this I had frequently quitted it full of deep contempt, 
 for among the imprisoned Christians there were too often lazy 
 vagabonds, who had loudly confessed the Saviour only to be fed 
 by the gifts of the brethren; there 1 had seen accursed crim- 
 inals, who hoped by a martyr's death to win back the redemp- 
 tion that they had forfeited; there I had heard the woful cries 
 of the faint-hearted, who feared death as much as they feared
 
 70 HOMO SUM. 
 
 treason to the Most High. There were things to be seen 
 there that might harrow the soul, but also examples of the 
 sublimest greatness. Men have I seen there, ay, and women, 
 who went to their death in calm and silent bliss, and whose 
 end was, indeed, noble more noble than that of the much- 
 lauded Codrus or Decius Mus. 
 
 " Among all the prisoners there was neither man nor woman 
 who was more calmly self-possessed, more devoutly resigned, 
 than Magdalen. The words, ' There is more joy in Heaven 
 over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety-and-nine that 
 need no repentance/ strengthened her greatly, and she re- 
 pented yea and verily, she did. And for my part, God is my 
 witness that not an impulse asirom man to woman drew me 
 to her, and yet I could not leave her, and I passed the day at 
 her side, and at night she haunted my soul, and it would have 
 seemed to me fairer than all in life besides to have been allowed 
 to die with her. 
 
 " It was at the time of the fourth decree of persecution, a 
 few months before the promulgation of the first edict of tolera- 
 tion. 
 
 " He that sacrifices, it is said, shall go unpunished, and he 
 that refuses shall by some means or other be brought to it, 
 but those who continue stiff-necked shall suffer death. For a 
 long time much consideration had been shown to the prisoners, 
 but now they were alarmed by having the edict read to them 
 anew. Many hid themselves groaning and lamenting, others 
 prayed aloud, and most awaited what might happen with pale 
 lips and painful breathing. 
 
 " Magdalen remained perfectly calm. The names of the 
 Christian prisoners were called out, and the Imperial soldiers 
 led them all together to one spot. Neither my name nor hers 
 was called, for I did not belong to the prisoners, and she had 
 not been apprehended for the faith's sake. The officer was 
 rolling up his list when Magdalen rose and stepped modestly 
 forward, saying, with quiet dignity, ' I, too, am a Christian. ' 
 
 " If there be an angel who wears the form and features of 
 man, his face must resemble hers, as she looked in that hour. 
 The Roman, a worthy man, looked at her with a benevolent 
 but searching gaze. * I do not find your name here/ he said, 
 aloud, shaking his head and pointing to the roll; and he added, 
 in a lower voice, ' Nor do I intend to find it. 3 
 
 " She went closer up to him, and said out loud, ' Grant me 
 my place among the believers, and write down that Magdalen, 
 the Christian, refuses to sacrifice. ' 
 
 My soul was deeply moved, and with joyful eagerness I
 
 HOMO STTM. 71 
 
 cried out, ' Put down my name, too, and write that Menander, 
 the son of Herophilus, also refuses. ' The Roman did his duty. 
 
 " Time has not blotted out from my memory a single mo- 
 ment of that day. There stood the altar, and near it the 
 heathen priest on one side, and on the other the emperor's 
 officer. We were taken up two by two; Magdalen and I were 
 the last. One word now one little word would give us life 
 and freedom, another the rack and death. Out of thirty of 
 us only four had found courage to refuse to sacrifice, but the 
 feeble-hearted broke out into lamentations, and beat their 
 foreheads, and prayed that the Lord might strengthen the 
 courage of the others. An unutterably pure and lofty joy 
 filled my soul, and I felt as if we were out of the body float- 
 ing on ambient clouds. Softly and calmly we refused to sacri- 
 fice, thanked the Imperial official, who warned us kindly, and 
 in the same hour and place we fell into the hands of the tor- 
 turers. She gazed only up to heaven, and I only at her, but 
 in the midst of the most frightful torments I saw before me 
 the Saviour beckoning to me, surrounded by angels that soared 
 on soft airs, whose presence filled my eyes with the purest 
 light, and my ears with heavenly music. She bore the utmost 
 torture without flinching, only once she called out the name 
 of her son Hermas; then I turned to look at her, and saw her 
 gazing up to heaven with wide open eyes and trembling lips 
 living, but already with the Lord on the rack, and yet in 
 bliss. My stronger body clung to the earth; she found de- 
 liverance at the first blow of the torturer. 
 
 " I myself closed her eyes, the sweetest eyes in which 
 heaven was ever mirrored; I drew a ring from her dear, 
 white, blood-stained hand, and here under the rough sheep- 
 skin I have it yet; and I pray, I pray, I pray oh! my heart! 
 My God if it might be if this is the end 
 
 Paulus put his hand to his head and sunk exhausted on the 
 bed in a deep swoon. The sick man had followed his story 
 with breathless interest. Some time since he had risen from 
 his bed, and, unobserved by his companion, had sunk on his 
 knees; he now dragged himself, all hot and trembling, to the 
 side of the senseless man, tore the- sheep's-fell from Ins breast, 
 and with hasty movement sought the ring; he found it, and 
 fixing on it passionate eyes as though he would melt it with 
 their fire, he pressed it again and again to his lips, to his heart, 
 to his lips again; buried his face in his hands and wept bitterly. 
 
 It was not till Hernias returned from the oasis that Ste- 
 phanus thought of his exhausted and fainting friend, and with 
 his son's assistance restored him to consciousness. Paulus did
 
 72 HOMO SUM. 
 
 not refuse to take some food and drink, and in the cool of the 
 evening, when he was refreshed and invigorated, he sat again 
 by the side of Stephanas, and understood from the old man 
 that Magdalen was certainly his wife. 
 
 " Now I know/' said Paulus, pointing to Hermas, " how it 
 is that from the first I felt such a love for the lad there. " 
 
 The old man softly pressed his hand, for he felt himself tied 
 to his friend by a new and tender bond, and it was with silent 
 ecstasy that he received the assurance that the wife he had 
 always loved, the mother of his child, had died a Christian 
 and a martyr, and had found before him the road to heaven. 
 
 The old man slept as peacefully as a child the following 
 night, and when, next morning, messengers came from Eaithu 
 to propose to Paulus that he should leave the Holy Mountain 
 and go with them to become their elder and ruler, Stephanus 
 said: 
 
 " Follow this high call with all confidence, for you deserve 
 it. I really no longer have need of you, for I shall get well 
 now without any further nursing. " 
 
 But Paulus, far more disturbed than rejoiced, begged of the 
 messengers a delay of seven days for reflection, and after 
 wandering restlessly from one holy spot to another, at last 
 went down into the oasis, there to pray in the church. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IT was a delicious refreshing evening; the full moon rose 
 calmly in the dark blue vault of the night sky, and poured a 
 flood of light down on the cool earth. But its rays did not 
 give a strong enough light to pierce the misty veil that hung 
 over the giant mass of the Holy Mountain; the city of the 
 oasis on the contrary was fully illuminated; the broad road- 
 way of the high street looked to the wanderer who descended 
 from the height above like a shining path of white marble, 
 and the freshly plastered walls of the new church gleamed as 
 white as in the light of day. The shadows of the houses and 
 palm-trees lay like dark strips of carpet across the road, which 
 was nearly empty in spite of the evening coolness, which 
 usually tempted the citizens out into the air. 
 
 The voices of men and women sounded out through the 
 open windows of the church; then the door opened and the 
 Pharanite Christians, who had been partaking of the Supper 
 the bread and the cup passed from hand to hand came out 
 into the moonlight. The elders and deacons, the readers and 
 singers, the acolytes and the assembled priesthood of the place
 
 HOMO SUM. 73 
 
 followed the bishop Agapitus, and the laymen came behind 
 Obedianus, the head man of the oasis, and the senator Petrus; 
 with Petrus came his wife, his grown-up children and numer- 
 ous slaves. 
 
 The church was empty when the door-keeper, who was ex- 
 tinguishing the lights, observed, a man in a dark corner of an 
 antechamber through which a spring of water softly plashed 
 and trickled, and which was intended for penitents. The man 
 was prostrate on the ground and absorbed in prayer, and he 
 did not raise himself till the porter called him and threw the 
 light of his little lamp full in his face. 
 
 He began to address him with hard words, but when he 
 recognized in the belated worshiper the anchorite Paulus of 
 Alexandria he changed his key, and said, in a soft and almost 
 submissive tone of entreaty: 
 
 ' You have surely prayed enough, pious man. The congre- 
 gation have left the church, and I must close it on account of 
 our beautiful new vessels and the heathen robbers. I know 
 that the brethren of Kaithu have chosen you to be their elder, 
 and that this high honor was announced to you by their mes- 
 sengers, for they came to see our church, too, and greatly ad- 
 mired it. Are you going at once to settle with them, or shall 
 you keep the high feast with us?" 
 
 " That you shall hear to-morrow," answered Paulus, who 
 had risen from his knees and was leaning against a pillar of 
 the narrow, bare, penitential chamber. " In this house dwells 
 One of whom I would fain take counsel, and I beg of you to 
 leave me here alone. If you will you can lock the door and 
 fetch me out later, before you go to rest for the night." 
 
 "That can not be," said the man, considering, "for my 
 wife is ill, and my house is a long way from here, at the end of 
 the town by the little gate, and I must take the key this very 
 evening to the senator Petrus, because his son, the architect 
 Antonius, wants to begin the building of the new altar the 
 first thing to-morrow morning. The workmen are to be here 
 by sunrise, and if " 
 
 " Show me the key," interrupted Paulus. " To what un- 
 told blessing may this little instrument close or open the issues! 
 Do you know, man, that I think there is a way for us both out 
 of the difficulty! You go to your sick wife, and I will take 
 the key to the senator so soon as I have finished my devotions. " 
 
 The door-keeper considered for. .a. few minutes,: and (then ac- 
 ceded to the request -of the future presbyter of .'Kaithu, whil& 
 at the same time he begged him not to linger 1 - too -late, 
 
 As he weal* bjotiiaisenator's: ko.use ; iejnielledu
 
 74 HOMO SUM. 
 
 roast meat; he was a poor man and thought to himself: " They 
 fast in there just when it pleases them, but as for us, we fast 
 when it pleases us least. " 
 
 The good smell, which provoked this lament, rose from a 
 roast sheep, which was being prepared as a feast-supper for 
 the senator and the assembed members of his household; even 
 the slaves shared in the late evening meal. 
 
 Petrus and Dame Dorothea sat in the Greek fashion, side by 
 side in a half -reclining position on a simple couch, and before 
 them stood a table which no one shared with them, but close 
 to which was the seat for the grown-up children of the house. 
 The slaves squatted on the ground nearer to the door, and 
 crowded into two circles, each surrounding a steaming dish, 
 out of which they helped themselves to the brown stew of 
 lentils with the palm of the hand. A round, gray-looking 
 cake of bread lay near each, and was not to be broken till the 
 steward Jethro had cut and apportioned the sheep. The juicy 
 pieces of the back and thighs of the animal were offered to 
 Petrus and his family to choose from, but the carver laid a 
 slice for each slave on his cake a larger for the men and a 
 smaller for the women. Many looked with envy on the more 
 succulent piece that had fallen to a neighbor's share, but not 
 even those that had fared worse dared to complain, for a slave 
 was allowed to speak only when his master addressed him, and 
 Petrus forbid even his children to discuss their food, whether 
 to praise it or to find fault. 
 
 In the midst of the underlings sat Miriam; she never eat 
 much, and all meat was repulsive to her, so she pushed the 
 cut from the ribs that was given to her over to an old garden- 
 woman, who sat opposite, and who had often given her a fruit 
 or a little honey, for Miriam loved sweet things. Petrus spoke 
 not a . word to-day to his slaves, and very little even to his 
 family; Dorothea marked the deep lines between his grave 
 eyes^not without anxiety, and noted how he pinched his lips, 
 when, forgetful of the food before him, he sat lost in medita- 
 tion. 
 
 The meal was ended, but still he did not move, nor did he 
 observe the inquiring glances which were turned on him by 
 many eyes. No one dared to rise before the master gave the 
 signal. 
 
 Miriam followed all his movements with more impatience 
 than any of the others who were present; she rocked restlessly 
 backward and forward, crumbled the bread that she had left 
 with her slender fingers, and her breath now came fast and.
 
 HOMO SUM. 75 
 
 faster, and now seemed to stop entirely. She had heard the 
 court-yard gate open, and had recognized Hermas's step. 
 
 " He wants to speak to the master; in a moment he will 
 come in and find me among these " thought she, and she 
 involuntarily stroked her hand over her rough hair to smooth 
 it, and threw a glance at the other slaves, in which hatred and 
 contempt were equally marked. 
 
 But Hernias came not. Not for an instant did she think 
 that her ear had deceived her was he waiting now at the door 
 for the conclusion of the meal? Was his late visit intended 
 for the Gaulish lady, to whom she had seen him go yesterday 
 again with the wine- jar? 
 
 Sirona's husband, Phoebicius, as Miriam well knew, was 
 upon the mountain, and offering sacrifice by moonlight to 
 Mithras with his fellow-heathen in a cave which she had long 
 known. She had seen the Gaul quit the court during the 
 time of evening prayer with a few soldiers, two of whom car- 
 ried after him a huge coffer, out of which rose the handle of a 
 mighty caldron, and a skin full of water and various vessels. 
 She knew that these men would pass the whole night in the 
 grotto of Mithras, and there greet " the young god " the 
 rising sun with strange ceremonies; for the inquisitive shep- 
 herdess had more than once listened, when she had led her 
 goats up the mountain before the break of day, and her ear 
 had detected that the worshipers of Mithras were performing 
 their nocturnal solemnities. Now it flashed across her mind 
 that Sirona was alone, and that the late visit of Hermas proba- 
 bly concerned her and not the senator. 
 
 She started; there was quite a pain in her heart, and, as 
 usual, when any violent emotion agitated her mind, she in- 
 voluntarily sprung to her feet, prompted by the force of her 
 passion, and had almost reached the door when the senator's 
 voice brought her to a pause, and recalled her to the conscious- 
 ness of the impropriety of her behavior. 
 
 The sick man still lay with his inflamed wound and fever 
 down in the court, and she knew that she should escape blame 
 if in answer to her master's stern questioning she said that the 
 patient needed her, but she had never told a lie, and her pride 
 forbade her even now to speak an untruth. The other slaves 
 stared with astonishment, as she replied, " I wanted to get 
 out; the supper is so long." 
 
 Petrus glanced at the window, and perceiving how high the 
 moon stood, he shook his head as if in wonder at his own con- 
 duct, then without blaming her he offered a thanksgiving, 
 gave the slaves the signal to leave the room, and after receiv-
 
 76 HOMO SUM. 
 
 ing a kiss of " good-night " from each of his children from 
 among whom Polykarp the sculptor alone was missing he 
 withdrew to his own room. But he did not remain alone there 
 for long. So soon as Dorothea had discussed the requirements 
 of the house for the next day with Marthana and the steward, 
 and had been through the sleeping-room of her younger chil- 
 dren, casting a loving glance on the peaceful sleepers, arrang- 
 ing here a coverlet and there a pillow, she entered her hus- 
 band's room and called his name. 
 
 Petrus stood still and looked round, and his grave eyes were 
 full of grateful tenderness as they met those of his wife. 
 Dorothea knew the soft and loving heart within the stern ex- 
 terior, and nodded to him with sympathetic understanding; 
 but before she could speak he said, " Come in, come nearer to 
 me; there is a heavy matter in hand, and you can not escape 
 your share of the burden." 
 
 " Give me my share!" cried she, eagerly. " The slim girl 
 of former years has grown a broad-shouldered old woman, so 
 that it may be easier to her to help her lord to bear the many 
 burdens of life. But I am seriously anxious even before we 
 went to chuch something unsatisfactory had happened to you, 
 and not merely in the council-meeting. There must be some- 
 thing not right with one of the children. " 
 
 " What eyes you have!" exclaimed Petrus. 
 
 " Dim gray eyes," said Dorothea, " and not even particu- 
 larly keen. But when anything concerns you and the children 
 I could see it in the dark. You are dissatisfied with Polykarp ; 
 yesterday, before he set out for Eaithu, you looked at him 
 so so what shall I say? I can quite imagine what it is all 
 about, biit I believe you are giving yourself groundless anxiety. 
 He is young, and so lovely a woman as Sirona " 
 
 Up to this point Petrus had listened to his wife in silence. 
 Now he clasped his hands and interrupted her: " Things cer- 
 tainly are not going on quite right but I ought to be used to 
 it. What I meant to have confided to you in a quiet hour you 
 tell me as if you knew all about it. " 
 
 "And why not?" asked Dorothea. "When you graft a 
 scion on to a tree, and they have grown well together, the 
 grafted branch feels the bite of the saw that divides the stock, 
 or the blessing of the spring that feeds the roots, just as if the 
 pain or the boon were its own. And you are the tree and I 
 am the graft, and the magic power of marriage has made us 
 one. Your pulses are my pulses, your thoughts have become 
 mine, and so I always know before you tell me what it is that 
 stirs your soul. "
 
 HOMO SUM. 77 
 
 Dorothea's kind eyes moistened as she spoke, and Petrus 
 warmly clasped- her hands in his as he said, " And if the 
 gnarled old trunk bears from time to time some sweet fruit, 
 he may thank the graft for it. I can not believe that the 
 anchorites up yonder are peculiarly pleasing to the Lord be- 
 cause they live in solitude. Man comes to his perfect humanity 
 only through his wife and child, and he who has them not can 
 never learn the most glorious heights and the darkest depths 
 of life and feeling. If a man may stake his whole existence 
 and powers for anything, surety it is for his own house. " 
 
 " And you have honestly done so for ours!" cried Dorothea. 
 
 " For ours," repeated Petrus, giving the words the strongest 
 accent of his deep voice. " Two are stronger than one, and it is 
 long since we ceased to say ' I ' in discussing any question con- 
 cerning the house or the children; and both have been touched 
 by to-day's events. " 
 
 " The senate will not support you in constructing the road?" 
 
 " No; the bishop gave the casting vote. I need not tell you 
 how we stand toward each other, and I will not blame him, 
 for he is a just man; but in many things we can never meet 
 half way. You know that he was in his youth a soldier, and 
 his very piety is rough I might almost say warlike. If we 
 had yielded to his views, and if our head man, Obedianus, had 
 not supported me, we should not have had a single picture in 
 the church, and it would have looked like a barn rather than a 
 house of prayer. We never have understood each other, and 
 since I opposed his wish of making Polykarp a priest, and sent 
 the boy to learn of the sculptor Thalassius for even as a child 
 he drew better than many masters in these wretched days that 
 produce no great artists since then, 1 say, he speaks of me as 
 if I were a heathen " 
 
 " And yet he esteems you highly; that I know," interrupted 
 Dame Dorothea. 
 
 " I fully return his good opinion," replied Petrus, " and it 
 is no ordinary matter that estranges us. He thinks that he 
 only holds the true faith, and ought to fight for it; he calls all 
 artistic work a heathen abomination; he never felt the purify- 
 ing influence of the beautiful, and regards all pictures and 
 statues as tending to idolatry. Still he allows himself to ad- 
 mire Polykarp's figures of angels and the Good Shepherd, but 
 the lions put the old warrior in a rage. ' Accursed idols and 
 works of the devil/ are what he calls them." 
 
 " But there were lions even in the temple of Solomon," 
 cried Dorothea. 
 
 " I urged that, and also, that in the schools of the catechists,
 
 78 HOMO SUM. 
 
 and in the educational history of animals which we possess 
 and teach from, the Saviour himself is compared to a lion, and 
 that Mark, the evangelist, who brought the doctrine of the 
 gospel to Alexandria, is represented with a lion. But he with- 
 stood me more and more violently, saying that Polykarp's 
 works were to adorn no sacred place but the Cajsareum, and 
 that to him is nothing but a heathen edifice, and the noble 
 works of the Greeks that are preserved there he calls revolting 
 images by which Satan insnares the souls of Christian men. 
 The other senators can understand his hard words, but they 
 can not follow mine; and so they vote with him, and my 
 motion to construct the roadway was thrown over, because it 
 did not become a Christian assembly to promote idolatry and 
 to smooth a way for the devil." 
 
 " I can see that you must have answered them sharply." 
 
 " Indeed I believe so/" answered Petrus, looking down. 
 " Many painful tilings were no doubt said, and it was I that 
 suffered for them. Agapitus, who was looking at the deacon's 
 reports, was especially dissatisfied with the account that I laid 
 before them; "they blamed us severely because you gave away 
 as much bread to heathen households as to Christians. It is 
 no doubt true, but " 
 
 " But," cried Dorothea, eagerly, " hunger is just as painful 
 to the unbaptized, and their Christian neighbors do not help 
 them, and yet they, too, are our flesh and blood. I should ill 
 fulfill my office if I were to let them starve, because the high- 
 est comfort is lacking to them/' 
 
 11 And yet," said Petrus, " the council decided that, for the 
 future, you nmst apply at the most a fourth part of the grain 
 allotted to their use. You need not fear for them; for the 
 future some of our own produce may go to them out of what 
 we have hitherto sold. You need not withdraw even a loaf 
 from any one of your proteges, but certainly may now be laid 
 by the plans for the road. Indeed there is no hurry for its 
 completion, for Polykarp will now hardly be able to go on with 
 his lions here among us. Poor fellow! with what delight he 
 formed the clay models, and how wonderfully he succeeded in 
 reproducing the air and aspect of the majestic beasts. It is as 
 if he were inspired by the spirit of the old Athenian masters. 
 "We must now consider whether in Alexandria ' 
 
 " Rather let us endeavor," interrupted Dorothea, " to in- 
 duce him at once to put aside his models, and to execute other 
 more pious works. Agapitus has keen eyes, and the heathen 
 work is only too dear to the lad's heart.." 
 
 The senator's brow grew dark at Jhe last words, and he said,
 
 HOMO SUM. 79 
 
 not without sonic excitement, " Everything that the heathen 
 do is not to be condemned. Polykarp must be kept busy, 
 constantly and earnestly occupied, for he has set his eyes where 
 they should not be set. Sirona is the wife of another, and 
 even in sport no man should try to win his neighbor's wife. 
 Do you think the Gaidish woman is capable of forgetting her 
 duty?" 
 
 Dorothea hesitated, and after some reflection answered: 
 " She is a beautiful and vain child a perfect child; I mean 
 in nature, and not in years, although she certainly might be 
 the grandchild of her strange husband, for whom she feels 
 neither love nor respect, nor, indeed, anything but utter aver- 
 sion. I know not what, but something frightful must have 
 come between them even in Eome, and I have given up all 
 attempts to guide her heart back to him. In everything else 
 she is soft and yielding, and often, when she is playing with 
 the children, I can not imagine where she finds her reckless 
 gayety. I wish she were a Christian, for she is very dear to 
 me why should I deny it? It is impossible to be sad when 
 she is by, and she is devoted to me, and dreads my blame, and 
 is always striving to win my approbation. Certainly she tries 
 to please every one, even the children; but, so far as I can see, 
 not Polykarp more than any one else, although he is such a 
 fine young man. Ko, certainly not/' 
 
 "And yet the boy gazes at her/' said Petrus, "and 
 Phoebicius has noticed it; he met me yesterday when I came 
 home, and, in his sour, polite manner, requested me to advise 
 my son, when he wished to offer a rose, not to throw it into 
 his window, as he was not fond of flowers, and preferred to 
 gather them himself for his wife." 
 
 The senator's wife turned pale, and then exclaimed, shortly 
 and positively, "We do not need a lodger, and much as I 
 should miss his wife, the best plan will be for you to request 
 him to find another dwelling." 
 
 " Say no more, wife," Petrus said, sternly, and interrupting 
 her with a wave of his hand. " Shall we make Sirona pay for 
 it because our son has committed a folly for her sake? You 
 yourself said that her intercourse with the children, and her 
 respect for you, preserve her from evil; and now shall we show 
 her the door? By no means. The Gauls may remain in my 
 house so long as nothing occurs that compels me to send them 
 out of it. My father was a Greek, but through my mother I 
 have Amalekite blood in my veins, and I should dishonor my- 
 self if I drove from my threshold any with whom I had once 
 broken bread under my roof. Polykarp shall be warned, and
 
 80 HOMO SUM. 
 
 shall learn Avhat he owes to us, to himself, and to the laws of 
 God. I know how to value his noble gifts, and I am his 
 friend, but I am also his master, and I will find means of pre- 
 venting my son from introducing the light conduct of the 
 capital beneath his father's roof." 
 
 The last words were spoken with weight and decision, like 
 the blows of a hammer, and stern resolve sparkled in the 
 senator's eyes. Nevertheless, his wife went fearlessly up to 
 him, and said, laying her hand on his arm, ''It is indeed well 
 that a man can keep his eyes set on what is just, when we 
 women should follow the hasty impulse of our heart. Even in 
 wrestling, men only fight with lawful and recognized means, 
 while fighting women use their teeth and nails. You men 
 understand better how to prevent injustice than we do, and 
 that you have once more proved to me, but, in carrying justice 
 out, you are not our superiors. The Gauls may remain in our 
 house, and do you take Polykarp severely to task, but in the 
 first instance as his friend. Or would it not be better if you 
 left it to me? He was so happy in thinking of the completion 
 of his lions, and in having to work for the great building in 
 the capital, and now it is all over. I wish you had already 
 broken that to him; but love stories are women's affairs, and 
 you know how good the boy is to me. A mother's word some- 
 times has more effect than a father's blow, and it is in life as 
 it is in war the light forces of archers go first into the field, 
 and the heavily armed division stays in the background to sup- 
 port them; then, if the enemy will not yield, it comes forward 
 and decides the battle. First let me speak to the lad. It may 
 be that he threw the rose into Siroua's window only in sport, 
 for she plays with his brothers and sisters as if she herself were 
 one of them. I will question him; for if it is so, it would be 
 neither just nor prudent to blame him. Some caution is 
 needed even in giving a warning; for many a one who would 
 never have thought of stealing has become a thief through 
 false suspicion. A young heart that is beginning to love is 
 like a wild boy who always would rather take the road he is 
 warned to avoid; and when I was a girl, I myself first dis- 
 covered how much I liked you when the senator Aman's wife 
 who wanted you for her own daughter advised me to be on 
 my guard with you. A man who has made such good use of 
 his time among all the temptations of the Greek Sodom as 
 Polykarp, and who has won such high praise from all his 
 teachers and masters, can not have been much injured by the 
 light manners of the Alexandrians. It is in a man's early years 
 athat he takes the bent which he follows throughout his later
 
 HOMO SUM. 81 
 
 life, and that he had done before he left our house. Nay 
 even if I did not know what a good fellow Polykarp is I need 
 only look at you to say, ' A child that was brought up by this 
 father could never turn out a bad man. '"' 
 
 Petrus sadly shrugged his shoulders, as though he regarded 
 his wife's flattering words as mere-idle folly, and yet he smiled 
 as he asked : 
 
 '"' Whose school of rhetoric did you go to? So be it, then; 
 speak to the lad when he returns from Raithu. How high the 
 moon is already; come to rest Antonius is to place the altar 
 in the early dawn, and I wish to be present. " 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MIRIAM'S ears had not betrayed her. While she was de- 
 tained at supper, Hernias had opened the court-yard gate; he 
 came to bring the senator a noble young buck that he had 
 killed a few hours before, as a thank-offering for the medicine 
 to which his father owed his recovery. It would no doubt 
 have been soon enough the next morning, but he could find 
 no rest up on the mountain, and did not and indeed did not 
 care to conceal from himself the fact that the wish to give 
 expression to his gratitude attracted him down into the oasis 
 far less than the hope of seeing Sirona and of hearing a word 
 from her lips. 
 
 Since their first meeting he had seen her several times, and 
 had even been into her house, when she had given him the 
 wine for his father> and when he had taken back the empty 
 flask. Once, as she was filling the bottle which he held out 
 of the large jar, her white fingers had touched his, and her in- 
 quiry whether he were afraid of her, or if not, why his hands 
 which looked so strong should tremble so violently, dwelt still 
 in his mind. The nearer he approached Petrus's house the 
 more vehemently his heart beat; he stood still in front of the 
 gate-way to take breath and to collect himself a little, for he 
 felt that, agitated as he was, he would find it difficult to utter 
 any coherent words. 
 
 At last he laid his hand on the latch and entered the yard. 
 The watch-dogs already knew him, and only barked once as 
 he stepped over the threshold. 
 
 He brought a gift in his hand, and he wanted to take noth- 
 ing away, and yet he appeared to himself just like a thief as 
 he looked round, first at the main building lighted up by the 
 moon, and then at the GauFs dwelling-house, which, veiled in 
 darkness, stood up as a vague silhouette, and threw:.a broad--.
 
 82 HOMO SUM. 
 
 dark shadow on the granite flags of the pavement, which was 
 trodden to shining smoothness. There was not a soid to be 
 seen, and the reek of the roast sheep told him that Petrus and 
 his household were assembled at supper. 
 
 " I might come inopportunely on the f casters/ 7 said he to 
 himself, as he threw the buck over from his left to his right 
 shoulder, and looked up at Sirona's window, which he knew 
 only too well. 
 
 It was not lighted up, but a whiter and paler something ap- 
 peared within its dark stone frame, and this something at- 
 tracted his gaze with an irresistible spell; it moved, and 
 Sirona's greyhound set up a sharp barking. 
 
 It was she it must be she ! Her form rose before his fancy 
 in all its brilliant beauty, and the idea flashed through his 
 mind that she must be alone, for he had met her husband 
 and the old slave woman among the worshipers of Mithras on 
 their way to the mountain. The pious youth, who so lately 
 had punished his flesh with the scourge to banish seductive 
 dream-figures, had in these few days become quite another 
 man. He would not leave the mountain for his father 's sake, 
 but he was quite determined no longer to avoid the way of the 
 world; nay, rather to seek it. He had abandoned the care of 
 his father to the kindly Paulus, and had wandered about 
 among the rocks; there he had practiced throwing the discus, 
 he had hunted the wild goats and beasts of prey, and from 
 time to time but always with some timidity he had gone 
 down into the oasis to wander round the senator's house and 
 catch a glimpse of Sirona. 
 
 Now that he knew that she was alone he was irresistibly 
 drawn to her. What he desired of her he himself could not 
 have said, and nothing was clear to his mind beyond the wish 
 to touch her fingers once more. 
 
 Whether this were a sin or not was all the same to him: the 
 most harmless play was called a sin, and every thought of the 
 world for which he longed; and he was fully resolved to take 
 the sin upon himself, if only he might attain his end. Sin 
 after all was nothing but a phantom terror with which they 
 frighten children, and the worthy Petrus had assured him that 
 he might be a man capable of great deeds. With a feeling 
 that he was venturing on an unheard-of act, he went toward 
 Sirona's window, and she at once recognized him as he stood 
 in the moonlight. 
 
 " Hermas!" he heard her say softly. He was seized with 
 such violent terror that he stood as if spell-bound, the goat 
 slipped from his shoulders, and he felt as if his heart had
 
 HOMO SUM. 83 
 
 ceased to beat. And again the sweet woman's voice called 
 " Hernias, is it you? What brings you to us at such a late 
 hour?" 
 
 He stammered an incoherent answer, and she said, " I do 
 not understand; come a little nearer." 
 
 Involuntarily he stepped forward into the shadow of the 
 house and close up to her window. She wore a white robe 
 with wide, open sleeves, and her arms shone in the dim light 
 as white as her garment. The greyhound barked again; she 
 quieted it, and then asked Hennas how his father was, and 
 whether he needed some more wine. He replied that she was 
 very kind, angelically kind, but that the sick man was recover- 
 ing fast, and that she had already given him far too much. 
 Neither of them said anything that might not have been heard 
 by everybody, and yet they whispered as if they were speaking 
 of some forbidden thing. 
 
 " Wait a moment," said Sirona, and she disappeared within 
 the room; she soon reappeared, and said, softly and sadly, " I 
 would ask you to come into the house, but Phoabicius has 
 locked the door. I am quite alone; hold the flask, so that I 
 may fill it through the open window. " 
 
 With these words she leaned over with the large jar; she 
 was strong, but the wine-jar seemed to her heavier than on 
 other occasions, and she said, with a sigh, " The amphora is 
 too heavy for me." 
 
 He reached up to help her; again his fingers met hers, and 
 again he felt the ecstatic thrill which had haunted his memory 
 day and night ever since he first had felt it. At this instant 
 there was a sudden noise in the house opposite; the slaves were 
 coming out from supper. Sirona knew what was happening; 
 she started and cried out, pointing to the senator's door, " For 
 all the gods' sake! they are coming out, and if they see you 
 here I am lost!" 
 
 Hennas looked hastily round the court, and listened to the 
 increasing noise in the other house, then, perceiving that there 
 was no possible escape from the senator's people, who were 
 close upon him, he cried out to Sirona, in a commanding tone, 
 " Stand back!" and flung himself up through the window into 
 the Gaul's apartment. At the same moment the door opposite 
 opened, and the slaves streamed out into the yard. 
 
 In front of them all was Miriam, who looked expectantly 
 all round the wide space seeking something, and disappointed. 
 He was not there, and yet she had heard him come in; and 
 the gate had not opened and closed a second time, of that she 
 was perfectly certain. Some of the slaves went to the stables,
 
 84 HOMO SUM. 
 
 others went outside the gate into the street to enjoy the cool- 
 ness of the evening; they sat in groups on the ground, looking 
 up at the stars, chattering or singing. Only the shepherdess 
 remained in the court-yard seeking him on all sides, as if she 
 were hunting for some lost trinket. She searched even behind 
 the mill-stones, and in the dark sheds in which the stone- 
 workers' tools were kept. Then she stood still a moment and 
 clinched her hands; with a few light bounds she sprung into 
 the shadow of the Gaul's house. Just in front of Sirona's 
 window lay the steinbock; she hastily touched it with her 
 slender naked toes, but quickly withdrew her foot with a 
 shudder, for it had touched the beast's fresh wound, wet with 
 its blood. She rapidly drew the conclusion that he had killed 
 it, and had thrown it down here, and that he could not be far 
 off. Now she knew where he was in hiding and she tried to 
 laugh, for the pain she felt seemed too acute and burning for 
 tears to allay or cool it. But she did not wholly lose her 
 power of reflection. " They are in the dark," thought she, 
 " and they would see me if I crept under the window to 
 listen; and yet I must know what they are doing there to- 
 gether. " 
 
 She hastily turned her back on Sirona's house, slipped into 
 the clear moonlight, and after standing there for a few min- 
 utes, went into the slaves' quarters. An instant after she 
 slipped out behind the mill-stones, and crept as cleverly and 
 as silently as a snake along the ground under the darkened 
 base of the centurion's house, and lay close under Sirona's 
 window. 
 
 Her loudly beating heart made it difficult for even her sharp 
 ears to hear, but though she could not gather all that he said, 
 she distinguished the sound of his voice; he was no longer in 
 Sirona's room, but in the room that looked out on the street. 
 
 Now she could venture to raise herself aiid to look in at the 
 open window. The door of communication between the two 
 rooms was closed, but a streak of light showed her that in the 
 further room, which Avas the sitting-room, a lamp was burn- 
 ing. 
 
 She had already put up her hand in order to hoist herself 
 up into the dark room, when a gay laugh from Sirona fell 
 upon her ear. The image of her enemy rose up before her 
 mind, brilliant and flooded with light as on that morning 
 when Hernias had stood just opposite, bewildered by her fasci- 
 nation. And now now he was actually lying at her feet, 
 and saying sweet flattering words to her, and he would speak
 
 HOMO SUM. 85 
 
 to her of love, and stretch out his arm to clasp her but she 
 had laughed. 
 
 Now she laughed again. Why was all so still again? Had 
 she offered her rosy lips for a kiss? No doubt no doubt. 
 And Hermas did not wrench himself from her white arms, as 
 he had torn himself from hers that noon by the spring torn 
 himself away never to return. 
 
 Cold drops stood on her brow, she buried her hands in her 
 thick, black hair, and a loud cry escaped her a cry like that 
 of a tortured animal. A few minutes more and she had 
 slipped through the stable and the gate by which they drove 
 the cattle in; and no longer mistress of herself, was flying up 
 the mountain to the grotto of Mithras to warn Phcebicius. 
 
 The anchorite Gelasius saw from afar the figure of the girl 
 flying up the mountain in the moonlight, and her shadow flit- 
 ting from stone to stone, and he threw himself on the ground, 
 and signed a cross on his brow, for he thought he saw a goblin 
 form, one of the myriad gods of the heathen an Oread pur- 
 sued by a Satyr. 
 
 Sirona had heard the girl's shriek. 
 
 " What was that?" she asked the youth, who stood before 
 her in the full-dress uniform of a Roman officer, as handsome 
 as the young god of war, though awkward and unsoldierly in 
 his movements. 
 
 " An owl screamed " replied Hermas. " My father must 
 at last tell me from what house we are descended, and I will 
 go to Byzantium, the new Rome, and say to the emperor, 
 ' Here am I, and I will fight for you among your warriors. ' J 
 
 " I like you so!" exclaimed Sirona. 
 
 "If that is the truth," cried Hermas, "prove it to me! 
 Let me once press my lips to your shining gold hair. You 
 are beautiful : as sweet as a flower, as gay and bright as a bird, 
 and yet as hard as our mountain rock. If you do not grant 
 me one kiss I shall long till I am sick and weak before I can 
 get away from here, and prove my strength in battle." 
 
 " And if I yield," laughed Sirona, " you will be wanting 
 another and another kiss, and at last not get away at all. No, 
 no, my friend I am the wiser of us two. Now go into the 
 dark room; I will look out and see whether the people are 
 gone in again, and whether yoxi can get off unseen from the 
 street window, for you have been here much too long already. 
 Do you hear? I command you. " 
 
 Hermas obeyed with a sigh; Sirona opened the shutter and 
 looked out. The slaves were coming back into the court, and 
 she called out a friendly word or two, which were answered
 
 86 HOMO SUM. 
 
 with equal friendliness, for the Gaulish lady, who never over- 
 looked even the humblest, was dear to them all. She took in 
 the night air with deep-drawn breaths, and looked up con- 
 tentedly at the moon, for she was well content with herself. 
 
 When Hernias had swung himself up into her room she had 
 started back in alarm; he had seized her hand, and pressed his 
 burning lips to her arm, and she let him do it, for she was 
 overcome with strange bewilderment. Then she heard Dame 
 Dorothea calling out, " Directly directly; I will only say good- 
 night first to the children. ' ' 
 
 These simple words, uttered in Dorothea's voice, had a 
 magical effect on the warm-hearted woman badly used and 
 suspected as she was, and yet so well formed for happiness, 
 love, and peace. When her husband had locked her in, taking 
 even her slave with him, at first she had raved, wept, meditated 
 revenge and flight, and at last, quite broken down, had seated 
 herself by the window in silent thought of her beautiful home, 
 her brothers and sisters, and the dark olive groves of Arelas. 
 
 Then Hernias appeared. It had not escaped her that the 
 young anchorite passionately admired her; and she was not 
 displeased, for she liked him, and the confusion with which 
 he had been overcome at the sight of her flattered her and 
 seemed to her doubly precious, because she knew that the 
 hermit in his sheep-skin, on whom she had bestowed a gift of 
 wine, was in fact a young man of distinguished rank. And 
 how truly to be pitied was the poor boy, who had had his 
 youth spoiled by a stern father. A woman easily bestows 
 some tender feeling on the man that she pities; perhaps be- 
 cause she is grateful to him for the pleasure of feeling herself 
 the stronger, and because through him and his suffering she 
 finds gratification for the noblest happiness of a woman's 
 heart that of giving tender and helpful care; women's hearts 
 are softer than ours. In men's hearts love is commonly ex- 
 tinguished when pity begins, while admiration acts like sun- 
 shine on the budding plant of a woman's inclination, and pity 
 is the glory which radiates from her heart. 
 
 Neither admiration nor pity, however, would have been 
 needed to induce Sirona to call Hernias to her window; she 
 felt so unhappy and lonely that any one must have seemed 
 welcome from whom she might look for a friendly and encour- 
 aging word to revive her deeply wounded self- respect. And 
 there came the young anchorite, who forgot himself and every- 
 thing else in her presence, whose looks, whose movement, 
 whose very silence seemed to do homage to her. And then his 
 bold spring into her room, and his eager wooing " This is
 
 HOMO SUM. 87 
 
 love/' said she to herself. Her cheeks glowed, and when Her- 
 nias clasped her hand, and pressed her arm to his lips, she 
 could not repulse him, till Dorothea's voice reminded her of 
 the worthy lady and of the children, and through them of her 
 own far-oil sisters. 
 
 The thought of these pure beings flowed over her troubled 
 spirit like a purifying stream, and the question passed through 
 her mind, " What should I be without those good folks over 
 there? and is tin's great love-sick boy, who stood before Poly- 
 karp just lately looking like a school-boy is he so worthy that 
 I should for his sake give up the right of looking them boldly 
 in the face?" And she pushed Hernias roughly away, just as 
 he was venturing for the first time to apply his lips to her per- 
 fumed gold hair, and desired him to be less forward, and to re- 
 lease her hand. 
 
 She spoke in a low voice, but with such decision that the 
 lad, who was accustomed to the habit of obedience, unresist- 
 ingly allowed her to push him into the sitting-room. There 
 was a lamp burning on the table, and on a bench by the wall 
 of the room, which was lined with colored stucco, lay the hel- 
 met, the centurion's staff, and the other portions of the armor 
 which Phcebicius had taken off before setting out for the feast 
 of Mithras, in order to assume the vestments of one of the 
 initiated of the grade of " Lion." 
 
 The lamp-light revealed Sirona's figure, and as she stood be- 
 fore him in all her beauty, with glowing cheeks, the lad's heart 
 began to beat high, and with increased boldness he opened his 
 arms and endeavored to draw her to him; but Sirona avoided 
 him and went behind the table, and, leaning her hands on its 
 polished surface while it protected her like a shield, she lectured 
 him in wise and almost motherly words against his rash, in- 
 temperate, and unbecoming behavior. 
 
 Any one who was learned in the heart of woman might have 
 smiled at such words from such lips and in such an hour; but 
 Hernias blushed and cast down his eyes, and knew not what to 
 answer. A great change had come over the Gaulish lady. She 
 felt a great pride in her virtue, and in the victory she had won 
 over herself; and while she sunned herself in the splendor of 
 her own merits, she wished that Hernias, too, should feel and 
 recognize them. She began to expatiate on all that she had to 
 forego and to endure in the oasis, and she discoursed of virtue 
 and the duties of a wife, and of the wickedness and audacity of 
 men. 
 
 Hernias, she said, was no better than the rest, and because 
 ghe had shown herself somewhat kind to him, he fancied already
 
 88 HOMO SUM. 
 
 that he had a claim on her liking; but he was greatly mis- 
 taken, and if only the court-yard had been empty, she would 
 long ago have shown him the door. 
 
 The young hermit was soon only half listening to all she 
 said, for his attention had been riveted by the armor which 
 lay before him, and which gave a new direction to his excited 
 feelings. He involuntarily put out his hand toward the gleam- 
 ing helmet, and interrupted the pretty preacher with the ques- 
 tion, " May I try it on?" 
 
 Sirona laughed out loud and exclaimed, much amused and 
 altogether diverted from her train of thought, " To be sure. 
 You ought to be a soldier. How well it suits you ! Take off 
 your nasty sheep-skin, and let us see how the anchorite looks 
 as a centurion." 
 
 Hernias needed no second telling: he decked himself in the 
 Gaul's armor with Sirona's help. We human beings must in- 
 deed be in a deplorable plight; otherwise how is it that from our 
 earliest years we find such delight in disguising ourselves; that 
 is to say, in sacrificing our own identity to the tastes of another, 
 whose aspect we borrow? The child shares this inexplicable 
 pleasure with the sage, and the stern man who should con- 
 demn it would not therefore be the wiser, for he who wholly 
 ab j ures folly is a fool all the more certainly the less he fancies 
 himself one. Even dressing others has a peculiar charm, espe- 
 cially for women; it is often a question which has the greatest 
 pleasure, the maid who dresses her mistress or the lady who 
 wears the costly garment. 
 
 Sirona was devoted to every sort of masquerading. If it had 
 been needful to seek a reason why the senator's children and 
 grandchildren were so fond of her, by no means last or least 
 would have been the fact that she would willingly and cheer- 
 fully allow herself to be tricked out in colored kerchiefs, rib- 
 bons, and flowers, and on her part could contrive the most fan- 
 tastic costumes for them. So soon as she saw Hernias with 
 the helmet on, the fancy seized her to carry through the trav- 
 esty he had begun. She eagerly and in perfect innocence 
 pulled the coat of armor straight, helped him to buckle the 
 breast-plate and to fasten on the sword, and as she performed 
 the task, at which Hermas proved himself unskillful enough, 
 her gay and pleasant laugh rang out again and again. When 
 he sought to seize her haud, as he not seldom did, she hit him 
 sharply on the fingers, and scolded him. 
 
 Hermas's embarrassment thawed before this pleasant sport, 
 and soon he began to tell' tier how hateful the lonely life on the 
 mountain was to him. He told her that Petrus
 
 HOMO SUM. 89 
 
 advised him to try his strength out in the world, and he con- 
 fided to her that if his father got well, he meant to be a sol- 
 dier, and do great deeds. She quite agreed with him, praised 
 and encouraged him, then she criticized his slovenly deport- 
 ment, showed Mm with comical gravity how a warrior ought 
 to stand and walk, called herself his drill-master, and was de- 
 lighted at the zeal with which he strove to imitate her. 
 
 In such play the hours passed quickly. Hernias was proud 
 of himself in his soldierly garb, and was happy in her presence 
 and in the hope of future triumphs; and Sirona was gay, as 
 she had usually been only when playing with the children, so 
 that even Miriam's wild cry, which the youth explained to be 
 the scream of an owl, only for a moment reminded her of the 
 danger in which she was placing herself. Petrus's slaves had 
 long gone to rest before she began to weary of amusing herself 
 with Hernias, and desired him to lay aside her husband's equip- 
 ment, and to leave her. Hernias obeyed while she warily 
 opened the shutters, and turning to him, said, " You can not 
 venture through the court-yard; you must go through this win- 
 dow into the open street. But there is some one coming down 
 the road; let him pass first, it will not be long to wait, for he 
 is walking quickly." 
 
 She carefully drew the shutters to, and laughed to see how 
 clumsily Hernias set to work to unbuckle the greaves; but the 
 gay laugh died upon her lips when the gate flew open, the 
 greyhound and the senator's watch-dogs barked loudly, and 
 she recognized her husband's voice as he ordered the dogs to 
 be quiet. 
 
 "Fly fly for the gods' sake!" she cried in a trembling 
 voice. With that ready presence of mind with which destiny 
 arms the weakest woman in great and sudden danger, she ex- 
 tinguished the lamp, flung open the shutter, and pushed Her- 
 nias to the window. The boy did not stay to bid her farewell, 
 but swung himself with a strong leap down into the road, and, 
 followed by the barking of the dogs, which roused all the 
 neighboring households, he flew up the street to the little 
 church. 
 
 He had not got more than half way when he saw a man 
 coming toward him; he sprung into the shadow of a house, 
 but the belated walker accelerated his steps, arid came straight 
 up to him. He set off running again, but the other pursued 
 him, and kept close at his heels till he had passed all the houses 
 and began to go up the mountain path. Hermas felt that he 
 was outstripping his pursuer, and was making ready for a 
 spring over a block of stone that encumbered the path, when
 
 90 HOMO SUM. 
 
 he heard his name called behind him, and he stood still, for he 
 recognized the voice of the man from whom he was flying as 
 that of his good friend Paulus. 
 
 "You, indeed!" said the Alexandrian, panting for breath. 
 " Yes, you are swifter than I. Years hang lead on our heels, 
 but do you know what it is that lends them the swiftest wings? 
 You have just learned it! It is a bad conscience; and pretty 
 things will be told about you; the dogs have barked it all out 
 loud enough to the night. " 
 
 " And so they may!'* replied Hermas, defiantly, and trying 
 in vain to free himself from the strong grasp of the anchorite, 
 who held him firmly. " I have done nothing wrong. " 
 
 " Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife!" interrupted 
 Paulus, in a tone of stern severity. " You have been with 
 the centurion's pretty wife, and were taken by surprise. 
 Where is your sheep-skin?" 
 
 Hermas started, felt on his shoulder, and exclaimed, strik- 
 ing his fist against his forehead: " Merciful Heaven! I have 
 left it there! The raging Gaul will find it. " 
 
 " He did not actually see you there?" asked Paulus, eagerly. 
 
 " No, certainly not/' groaned Hermas; " but the skin 
 
 " AVell, well," muttered Paulus. " Youi* sin is none the 
 less, but something may be done in that case. Only think if 
 it came to your father's ears; it might cost him his life." 
 
 " And that poor Sirona!" sighed Hermas. 
 
 " Leave me to settle that," exclaimed Paulus. " I will 
 make everything straight with her. There, take my sheep- 
 skin. You will not? Well, to be sure, the man who does not 
 fear to commit adultery would make nothing of becoming his 
 father's murderer. There, that is the way! fasten it together 
 over your shoulders; you will need it, for you must quit this 
 spot, and not for to-day and to-morrow only. You wanted to 
 go out into the world, and now you will have the opportunity 
 of showing whether you really are capable of walking on your 
 own feet. First go to Raithu and greet the pious Is ikon in my 
 name, and tell him that I remain here on the mountain, for 
 after long praying in the Church I have found myself un- 
 worthy of the office of elder which they offered me. Then get 
 yourself carried by some ship's captain across the Red Sea, 
 and wander up and down the Egyptian coast. The hordes of 
 the Blemmyes have lately shown themselves there; keep your 
 eye on them, and when the wild bands are plotting some 
 fresh outbreak you can warn the watch on the mountain peaks; 
 how to cross the sea and so outstrip them, it will be your busi- 
 ness to find out. Do you feel bold enough and capable of ac-
 
 HOMO SUM. 91 
 
 complishing this task? Yes? So I expected! Now may the 
 Lord guide you. I will take care of your father, and his bless- 
 ing and your mother's will rest upon you if you sincerely re- 
 pent, and if you now do your duty." 
 
 " You shall learn that I am a man/'' cried Hernias, with 
 sparkling eyes. " My bow and arrows are lying in your cave; 
 I will fetch them and then ay! you shall see whether you sent 
 the right man on the errand. Greet my father, and once more 
 give me your hand. " 
 
 Paul us grasped the boy's right hand, drew him to him and 
 kissed his forehead with fatherly tenderness. Then he said: 
 
 " In my cave, under the green stone, you will find six gold 
 pieces; take three of them with you on your journey. You 
 will probably need them at any rate to pay your passage. 
 Now be oft', and get to Eaithu in good time. " 
 
 Hernias hurried up the mountain, his head full of the im- 
 portant task that had been laid upon him; dazzling visions of 
 the great deeds he was to accomplish eclipsed the image of the 
 fair Sirona, and he was so accustomed to believe in the superior 
 insight and kindness of Paulus that he feared no longer for 
 Sirona now that his friend had made her affair his own. 
 
 The Alexandrian looked after him, and breathed a short 
 prayer for him; then he went down again into the valley. 
 
 It was long past midnight, and the moon was sinking; it 
 grew cooler and cooler, and since he had given his sheep-skin 
 to Hernias he had nothing on but his threadbare coat. Never- 
 theless he went slowly onward, stopping every now and then, 
 moving his arms and speaking incoherent words in a low tone 
 to himself. 
 
 He thought of Hermas and Sirona, of his own youth, and of 
 how in Alexandria he himself had tapped at the shutters of the 
 dark-haired Aso and the fair Simaitha. 
 
 " A child a mere boy," he murmured. " Who would have 
 thought it? The Gaulish woman no doubt may be handsome, 
 and as for him, it is a fact that as he threw the discus I was 
 myself surprised at his noble figure. And his eyes ay, he has 
 Magdalen's eyes! If the Gaul had found him with his wife, 
 and had run his sword through his heart, he would have gone 
 unpunished by the earthly judge however, his father is spared 
 this sorrow. In this desert the old man thought thab his dar- 
 ling could not be touched by the world and its pleasures. And 
 now? These brambles I once thought lay dried up on the 
 ear 11 1, and could never get up to the top of the palm-tree where 
 the dates ripen; but a bird ilew by, and picked up the berries, 
 and carried them into its nest at the highest point of the tree.
 
 92 HOMO SUM. 
 
 Who can point out the road that another will take, and say to- 
 day, ' To-morrow I shall find him thus and not otherwise ?' 
 We fools flee into the desert in order to forget the world, and 
 the world pursues us and clings to our skirts. Where are the 
 shears that are keen enough to cut the shadow from beneath 
 oui' feet? What is the prayer that can effectually release us 
 born of the flesh from the burden of the flesh? My Re- 
 deemer, Thou Only One, who knowest it, teach it to me, the 
 basest of the base. ' ' 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WITHIN" a few minutes after Hermas had flung himself out 
 of the window into the roadway, Phoebicius walked into his 
 sleeping-room. Sirona had had time to throw herself on to 
 her couch; she was terribly frightened, and had turned her 
 face to the wall. Did he actually know that some one had 
 been with her? And who could have betrayed her and have 
 called him home? Or could he have come home by accident 
 sooner than usual? 
 
 It was dark in the room, and he could not see her face, and 
 yet she kept her eyes shut as if asleep, for every fraction of a 
 minute in which she could still escape seeing him in his fury 
 seemed a reprieve; and yet her heart beat so violently that it 
 seemed to her that he must hear it, when he approached the 
 bed with a soft step that was peculiar to him. She heard him 
 walk up and down, and at last go into the kitchen that adjoined 
 the sleeping-room. In a few moments she perceived, through 
 her half -closed eyes, that he had brought in a light; he had 
 lighted a lamp at the hearth, and now searched both the rooms. 
 
 As yet he had not spoken to her nor opened his lips to utter 
 a word. 
 
 Now he was in the sitting-room, and now involuntarily she 
 drew herself into a heap and pulled the coverlet over her head 
 now he laughed aloud, so loud and scornfully that she felt 
 her bauds and feet turn cold, and a rushing crimson mist float- 
 ed before her eyes. Then the light came back into the bed- 
 room, and came nearer and nearer. She felt her head pushed 
 by his hard hand, and with a feeble scream she flung off the 
 coverlet and sat up. 
 
 Still he did not speak a word, but what she saw was quite 
 enough to smother the last spark of her courage and hope, for 
 her husband's eyes showed only the whites, his sallow features 
 were ashy pale, and on his brow the branded mark of Mithras
 
 HOMO SUM. 93 
 
 stood out more clearly than ever. In his right hand he held 
 the lamp, in his left Hermas's sheep-skin. 
 
 As his haggard eye met hers he held the anchorite's matted 
 garments so closely to her face that it touched her. Then he 
 threw it violently on the floor, and asked, in a low, husky 
 voice: " What is that?" 
 
 She was silent. He went up to the little table near her bed; 
 on it stood her night-draught in a pretty colored glass, that 
 Polykarp had brought her from Alexandria as a token, and with 
 the back of his hand swept it from the table, so that it fell on 
 the dais, and flew with a crash into a thousand fragments. She 
 screamed, the greyhound sprung up and barked at the Gaul. 
 He seized the little beast's collar and flung it so violently 
 across the room that it uttered a pitiful cry of pain. The dog 
 had belonged to Sirona since she was quite a girl, it had come 
 with her to Rome, and from thence to the oasis; it clung to 
 her with affection, and she to it, for lambe liked no one to 
 caress and stroke her so much as her mistress. She was so 
 much alone, and the greyhound was always with her, and not 
 only entertained her by such tricks as any other dog might 
 have learned, but was to her a beloved, dumb, but by no means 
 deaf, companion from her early home, who would prick its ears 
 when she spoke the name of her dear little sister in distant 
 Arelas, from whom she had not heard for years; or it would 
 look sadly in her face, and kiss her white hands when longing 
 forced tears into her eyes. 
 
 In her solitary, idle, childless existence, lambe was much, 
 very much, to her, and now, as she saw her faithful companion 
 and friend creep, ill-treated and whining, up to her bed as the 
 supple animal tried in vain to spring up and take refuge in 
 her lap, and held out to his mistress his trembling, perhaps 
 broken, little paw, fear vanished from the miserable young 
 woman's heart she sprung from her couch, took the little dog 
 in her arms, and exclaimed, with a glance which flashed with 
 anything rather than fear or repentance : 
 
 " You do not touch the poor little beast again, if you take 
 my advice. " 
 
 " I will drown it to-morrow morning," replied Phcebicius 
 with perfect indifference, but with an evil smile on his flaccid 
 lips. " So many two-legged lovers make themselves free to 
 my house that I do not see why I should share your affections 
 with a quadruped into the bargain. How came this sheep- 
 skin here?" 
 
 Sirona vouchsafed no answer to this last question, but she 
 exclaimed, in great excitement: " By God by your god by
 
 94 HOMO SUM. 
 
 the mighty Rock, and by all the gods! if you do the little 
 beast a harm, it will be the last day I stop in your house!" 
 
 " Hear her!" said the centurion; " and where do you pro- 
 pose to travel to? The desert is wide, and there is room and 
 to spare to starve in it, and for your bones to bleach there. 
 How grieved your lovers would be for their sakes I will take 
 care before drowning the dog to lock in its mistress. " 
 
 " Only try to touch me!" screamed Sirona, beside herself, 
 and springing to the window. "If you lay a finger on me I 
 will call for help, and Dorothea and her husband will protect 
 me against you. " 
 
 11 Hardly," answered Phosbicius, dryly. " It would suit you 
 no doubt to find yourself under the same roof as that great boy 
 who brings you colored glass, and throws roses into your win- 
 dow, and perhaps has strewed the road with them by which he 
 found his way to you to-day. Bat there are nevertheless laws 
 which protect the Roman citizen from criminals and impudent 
 seducers. You were always a -great deal too much in the house 
 over there, and you have exchanged your games with the little 
 screaming beggars for one with the grown-up child, the rose- 
 thrower the fop, who, for your sake, and not to be recognized, 
 covers up his purple coat with a sheep-skin! Do you think 
 you can teach me anything about love-sick night-wanderers and 
 women? I see through it all! Not one step do you set hence- 
 forth across Petrus's threshold. There is the open window 
 scream scream as loud as you will, and let all the people know 
 of your disgrace. I have the greatest mind to carry this sheep- 
 skin to the judge the first thing in the morning. I shall go 
 now, and set the room behind the kitchen in order for you; 
 there is no window there through which men in sheep-skin can 
 get into my house. You shall live there till you are tamed, 
 and kiss my feet, and confess what has been going on here to- 
 night. I shall learn nothing from the senator's slaves, that I 
 very well know; for you have turned all their heads too they 
 grin with delight when they see you. All friends are made 
 welcome by you, even when they wear nothing but sheep-skin. 
 But they may do what they please I have the right keeper for 
 you in my own hand. I am going at once you may scream if 
 you like, but I should myself prefer that you should keep quiet. 
 As to the dog, we have not yet heard the last of the matter; 
 for the present I will keep him here. If you are quiet and 
 come to your senses, he may live for aught I care; but if you 
 are refractory, a rope and a stone can soon be found, and the 
 stream runs close below. You know I never jest least of all 
 just now. "
 
 HOMO SUM. 95 
 
 'Sirona's whole frame was in the most violent agitation. Her 
 breath came quickly, her limbs trembled, but she could not 
 find words to answer him. 
 
 Phoebicius saw what was passing in Tier mind, and he went 
 on: " You may snort proudly now; but an hour will come 
 when you will crawl up to me like your lame dog and pray for 
 mercy. I have another idea you will want a couch in the 
 dark room, and it must be soft, or I shall be blamed. I will 
 spread out the sheep-skin for you. You see I know how to 
 value your adorer's offerings. " 
 
 The Gaul laughed loud, seized the hermit's garments, and 
 went with the lamp into the dark room behind the kitchen, in 
 which vessels and utensils of various sorts were kept. These 
 he set on one side to turn it into a sleeping-room for his wife, 
 of whose guilt he was fully convinced. 
 
 Who the man was for whose sake she had dishonored him, 
 he knew not, for Miriam had said nothing more than, " Go 
 home, your wife is laughing with her lover. " 
 
 While her husband was still threatening and storming, 
 Sirona had said to herself that she would rather die than live 
 any longer with this man. That she herself was not free from 
 fault never occurred to her mind. He who is punished more 
 severely than he deserves, easily overlooks his own fault in his 
 feeling for the judge's injustice. 
 
 Pho3bicius was right; neither Petrus nor Dorothea had it in 
 their power to protect her against him, a Roman citizen. If 
 she could not contrive to help herself she was a prisoner, and 
 without air, light, and freedom she could not live. During 
 his last speech her resolution had been quickly matured, and 
 hardly had he turned his back and crossed the threshold than 
 she hurried up to her bed, wrapped the trembling greyhound 
 in the coverlet, took it in her arms like a child, and ran into 
 the sitting-room with her light burden. The shutters of the 
 window were still open through which Hernias had fled into the 
 open. With the help of a stool she took the same way, let her- 
 self slip down from the sill into the street, and hastened on 
 without aim or goal inspired only by the wish to escape dur- 
 ance in the dark room, and to burst every bond that tied her 
 to her hated mate up the church hill and along the road 
 which leads over the mountain to the sea. 
 
 Phoebicius gave her a long start, for after having arranged 
 her prison he remained some time in the little room behind the 
 kitchen, not in order to give her time, to collect his thoughts 
 or to reflect on his future action, but simply because he felt 
 utterly exhausted.
 
 96 HOMO SUM. 
 
 The centurion was nearly sixty years of age, and his frame, 
 originally a powerful one, was now broken by every sort of 
 dissipation, and could no longer resist the effects of the strain 
 and excitement of this night. 
 
 The lean, wiry, and very active man did not usually fall into 
 these fits of total enervation excepting in the day-time, for 
 after sundown a wonderful change would come over the gray- 
 headed veteran, who nevertheless displayed much youthful 
 energy in the exercise of his official duties. At night his 
 drooping eyelids, that almost veiled his eyes, opened more 
 widely, his flaccid hanging under lip closed firmly, his hong 
 neck and narrow elongated head were held erect, and when, at 
 a later hour, he went out to drinking-bouts or to the service in 
 honor of Mithras., he might often still be taken for a fine, in- 
 domitable young man. 
 
 But when he was drunk he was no longer gay, but wild, 
 braggart, and noisy. It frequently happened that before he 
 left the carouse, while he was still in the midst of his boon 
 companions, the syncope would come upon him which had so 
 often alarmed Sirona, and from which he could never feel per- 
 fectly safe even when he was on duty at the head of his soldiers. 
 
 The vehement big man in such moments offered a terrible 
 image of helpless impotence; the paleness of death would over- 
 spread his features, his back was as if it was broken, and he 
 lost his control over every limb. His eyes only continued to 
 move, and now and then a shudder shook his frame. His peo- 
 ple said that when he was in this condition the centurion's 
 ghastly demon had entered into him, and he himself believed 
 in this evil spirit, and dreaded it; nay, he had attempted to be 
 released through heathen spells, and even through Christian 
 exorcisms. Now he sat in the dark room on the sheep-fell, 
 which in scorn of his wife he had spread on a hard wooden 
 bench. His hands and feet turned cold, his eye glowed, and 
 the power to move even a finger had wholly deserted him; only 
 his lips twitched, and his inward eye, looking back on the past 
 with preternaturally sharpened vision, saw lar away and be- 
 yond the last frightful hour. 
 
 ." If," thought he, " after my mad run down the oasis, 
 which few younger men could ha^e vied with, I had given the 
 reins to my fury instead of restraining it, the demon would not 
 have mastered me so easily. How that devil Miriam's eyes 
 flashed as she told me that a man was betraying me. She cer- 
 tainly must have seen the wearer of the sheep-skin, but I lost 
 sight of her before I reached the oasis; I fancy she turned and 
 went up the mountain. What indeed might not Sirona have
 
 HOMO SUM. 97 
 
 done to her? That woman snares all hearts with her eyes as a 
 bird-catcher snares birds with his flute. How the fine gentle- 
 men ran after her in Rome! Did she dishonor me there, I 
 wonder? She dismissed the legate Quintillus, who was so 
 anxious to please me- I may thank that fool of a woman that 
 he became my enemy but he was older even than I, and she 
 likes young men best. She is like all the rest of them, and I 
 of all men might have known it. It is the way of the world; 
 to-day one gives a blow and to-morrow takes one." 
 
 A sad smile passed over his lips, then his features settled into 
 a stern gravity, for various unwelcome images rose clearly be- 
 fore his mind, and would not be got rid of. 
 
 His conscience stood in inverse relation to the vigor of his 
 body. When he was well, his too darkly stained past life 
 troubled him little; but when he was unmanned by weakness, 
 he was incapable of fighting the ghastly demon that forced 
 upon his memory in painful vividness those very deeds which 
 he would most willingly have forgotten. In such hours he 
 must need remember his friend, his benefactor, and superior 
 officer, the tribune Servianus, whose fair young wife he had 
 tempted with a thousand arts to forsake her husband and 
 child and fly with him into the wide world; and at this mo- 
 ment a bewildering illusion made him fancy that he was the 
 tribune Servianus and yet at the same time himself. Every 
 hour of pain, and the whole bitter anguish that his betrayed 
 benefactor had suffered through his act when he had seduced 
 Glycera, he himself now seemed to realize, and at the same 
 time the enemy that had betrayed him, Servianus, was none 
 other than himself, Phoebicius, the Gaul. He tried to protect 
 himself, and meditated revenge against the seducer, and still 
 he could not altogether lose the sense of his own identity. 
 
 This whirl of mad imagining, which he vainly endeavored to 
 make clear to himself, threatened to distract his reason, and 
 he groaned aloud; the sound of his own voice brought him 
 back to actuality. 
 
 He was Phcebicius again and not another, that he knew now, 
 and yet he could not completely bring himself to comprehend 
 the situation. The image of the lovely Glycera, who had fol- 
 lowed him to Alexandria, and whom he had there abandoned 
 when he had squandered his last piece of money and her last 
 costly jewels in the Greek city, no longer appeared to him 
 alone, but always side by side with his wife Siroria. 
 
 Glycera had been a melancholy sweetheart, who had wept 
 much and laughed little after running away from her hus- 
 band; he fancied he could hear her speaking soft words of re- 
 
 4
 
 98 HOMO SUM. 
 
 proach, while Sirona defied him with loud threats, and dared 
 to nod and signal to the senator's son Polykarp. 
 
 The weary dreamer angrily shook himself, collected his 
 thoughts, doubled his fist and lifted it angrily; this movement 
 was the first sign of returning physical energy; he stretched 
 his limbs like a man awaking from sleep, rubbed his eyes, 
 pressed his hands to his temples; by degrees full consciousness 
 returned to him, and with it the recollection of all that had oc- 
 curred in the last hour or two. 
 
 He hastily left the dark room, refreshed himself in the 
 kitchen with a gulp of wine, and went up to the open window 
 to gaze at the stars. 
 
 It was long past midnight; he was reminded of his compan- 
 ions now sacrificing on the mountains, and addressed a long 
 prayer " to the crown/ ' " the invincible sun-god," " the great 
 light," "the god begotten of the rock," and to many other 
 names of Mithras; for since he had belonged to the mystics of 
 this divinity, he had become a zealous devotee, and could fast, 
 too, with extraordinary constancy. He had already passed 
 through several of the eighty trials, to which a man had to sub- 
 ject himself before he could attain to the highest grades of the 
 initiated, and the weakness which had just now overpowered 
 him, had attacked him for the first time after he had for a 
 whole week lain for hours in the snow, besides fasting severely 
 in order to attain the grade of " Lion." 
 
 Sirona's rigorous mind was revolted by all these practices, 
 and the decision with which she had always refused to take 
 any part in them had widened the breach which, without that, 
 parted her from her husband. Phoebicius was, in his fashion, 
 very much in earnest with all these things; for they alone 
 saved him in some measure from himself, from dark memories, 
 and from the fear of meeting the reward of his evil deeds in a 
 future life, while Sirona found her best comfort in the remem- 
 brance of her early life, and so gathered courage to endure the 
 miserable present cheerfully, and to hold fast to hope for bet- 
 ter times. 
 
 Phoebicius ended his prayer to-day a prayer for strength to 
 break his wife's strong spirit, for a successful issue to his re- 
 venge on her seducer ended it without haste, and with care- 
 ful observance of all the prescribed forms. Then he took two 
 strong ropes from the wall, pulled himself up, straight and 
 proud, as if he were about to exhort his soldiers to courage be- 
 fore a battle, cleared his throat like an orator in the Forum 
 before he begins his discourse, and entered the bedroom with a 
 dignified demeanor. Not the smallest suspicion of the possi-
 
 HOMO SUM. 99 
 
 bility of her escape troubled Ms sense of security when, not 
 finding Sirona in the sleeping-room, he went into the sitting- 
 room to carry out the meditated punishment. Here again 
 no one. 
 
 He paused in astonishment; but the thought that she could 
 have fled appeared to him so insane that he immediately and 
 decisively dismissed it. No doubt she feared his wrath, and 
 was hidden under her bed or behind the curtain which covered 
 his clothes. "The dog," thought he, "is still cowering by 
 her ' and he began to make a noise, half whistling, and half 
 hissing, which lambe could not bear, and which always pro- 
 voked her to bark angrily but in vain. All was still in the 
 vacant room, still as death. He was now seriously anxious; at 
 first deliberately, and then with rapid haste, he threw the light 
 under every vessel, into every corner, behind every cloth, and 
 rummaged in places that not even a child nay, hardly a fright- 
 ened bird could have availed itself of for concealment. At last 
 his right hand fairly dropped the ropes, and his left, in which 
 he held the lamp, began to tremble. He found the shutters 
 of the sleeping-room open, where Sirona had been sitting on 
 the seat looking at the moon, before Hermas had come upon 
 the scene. " Then she is not here!" he muttered, and setting 
 the lamp on the little table, from which he had just now flung 
 Polykarp's glass, he tore open the door, and hurried into the 
 court-yard. That she could have swung herself into the road, 
 and have set out in the night for the open desert, had not yet 
 entered into his mind. He shook the door that closed in the 
 homestead, and found it locked; the watch-dogs roused them- 
 selves, and gave tongue, when Phoebicius turned to Petrus's 
 house, and began to knock at the door with the brazen knocker, 
 at first softly and then with growing anger; he considered it 
 as certain that his wife had sought and found protection under 
 the senator's roof.' He could have shouted with rage and 
 anguish, and yet he hardly thought of his wife and danger of 
 losing her, but only of Polykarp and tKe disgrace he had 
 wrought him and the reparation he would exact from him and 
 his parents, who had dared to tamper with his household rights 
 his, the imperial centurion's. 
 
 "What was Sirona to him? In the flush of an hour of excite- 
 ment he had linked her destiny to his. 
 
 At Arelas, about two years since, one of his comrades had 
 joined their circle of boon companions, and had related that 
 he had been the witness of a remarkable scene. A number of 
 young fellows had surrounded a boy and had unmercifully 
 beaten him he himself knew not wherefore. The little one
 
 100 HOMO SUM. 
 
 had defended himself bravely, but was at last overcome by 
 numbers. " Then suddenly/' continued the soldier, " the 
 door of a house near the circus opened, and a young girl with 
 long golden hair flew out, and drove the boys to flight, and re- 
 leased the victim, her brother, from his tormentors. She 
 looked like a lioness," cried the narrator; " Sironashe is called, 
 and of all the pretty girls of Arelas, she is beyond a doubt the 
 prettiest." This opinion was confirmed on all sides, and 
 Phoabicius, who at that tune had just been admitted to the 
 grade of " Lion " among the worshipers of Mithras, and liked 
 very well to hear himself called "the Lien," exclaimed, "I 
 have long been seeking a Lioness, and here it seems to me that 
 I have found one. Phoebicius and Sirona the two names 
 sound very finely together." 
 
 On the following day he asked Sirona of her father for his 
 wife, and as he had to set out for Rome in a few days the wed- 
 ding was promptly celebrated. She had never before quitted 
 Arelas, and knew not what she was giving up when she took 
 leave of her father's house perhaps forever. In Rome Phrebi- 
 cius and his young wife met again; there many admired the 
 beautiful woman, and made every effort to obtain her favor, 
 but to him she was only a lightly won, and therefore lightly 
 valued, possession; nay, ere long no more than a burden, orna- 
 mental no doubt, but troublesome to guard. When presently 
 his handsome wife attracted the notice of the legate, he en- 
 deavored to gain profit and advancement through her, but 
 Sirona had rebuffed Quintillus with such insulting disrespect, 
 that his superior officer became the centurion's enemy, and 
 contrived to procure his removal to the oasis, which was tanta- 
 mount to banishment. 
 
 From that time he liad regarded her, too, as his enemy, and 
 firmly believed that she designedly showed herself most friend- 
 ly to those who seemed most obnoxious to him, and among 
 these he reckoned Polykarp. 
 
 Once more the "knocker sounded on the senator's door; it 
 opened, and Petrus himself stood before the raging Gaul, a 
 lamp in his hand. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE unfortunate Paulus sat on a stone bench in front of 
 the senator's door, and shivered; for, as dawn approached, the 
 night-air grew cooler, and he was accustomed to the warmth 
 of the sheep-skin, which he had now given to Hernias. In his 
 hand he held the key of the church, which he had promised the
 
 HOMO SUM. 101 
 
 door-keeper to deliver to Petrus; but all was so still in the 
 senator's house that he shrunk from rousing the sleepers. 
 
 " What a strange night this has been!" he muttered to him- 
 self, as he drew his short and tattered tunic closer together. 
 " Even if it were warmer, and if, instead of this threadbare 
 rag, I had a sack of feathers to wrap myself in, still I should 
 feel a cold shiver if the spirits of hell that wander about here 
 were to meet me again. Now I have actually seen one with 
 my own eyes. Demons in women's form rush up the mount- 
 ain out of the oasis to tempt and torture us in our sleep. 
 What could it have been that the goblin in a white robe and 
 with flowing hair held in its arms? Very likely the stone with 
 which the incubus loads our breast when he torments us. The 
 other one seemed to fly, but I did not see its wings. That 
 side building must be where the Gaul lives with his ungodly 
 wife, who has ensnared my poor Hermas. I wonder whether 
 she is really so beautiful! But what can a youth who has 
 grown up among rocks and caves know of the charms of 
 women? He would, of course, think the first who looked 
 kindly at him the most enchanting of her sex. Besides, she is 
 fair, and therefore a rare bird among the sun-burned bipeds of 
 the desert. The centurion surely can not have found the 
 sheep-skin, or all would not be so still here; once since I have 
 been here an ass has brayed, once a camel has groaned, and 
 now already the first cock is crowing; but not a sound have I 
 heard from human lips, not even a snore from the stout sena- 
 tor or his buxom wife Dorothea, and it would be strange indeed 
 if they did not both snore. " 
 
 He rose, went up to the window of Phcebicius's dwelling, 
 and listened at the half -open shutters, but all was still. 
 
 An hour ago Miriam had been listening under Sirona 's room; 
 after betraying her to Phosbicius she had followed him at a dis- 
 tance, and had slipped back into the court-yard through the 
 stables. She felt that she must learn what was happening 
 within, and what fate had befallen Hermas and Sirona at the 
 hands of the infuriated Gaul. She was prepared for anything, 
 and the thought that the centurion might have killed them 
 both with the sword filled her with bitter-sweet satisfaction. 
 Then, seeing the light through the crack between the partly 
 open wooden shutters, she softly pushed them further apart, 
 and, resting her bare feet against the wall, she raised herself 
 to look in. 
 
 She saw Sirona sitting up upon her couch, and opposite to 
 her the Gaul with pale distorted features; at his feet lay the 
 sheep-skin; in his right hand he held the lamp, and its light
 
 102 HOMO SUM. 
 
 fell on the paved floor in front of the bed, and was reflected in 
 a large dark-red pool, 
 
 " That is blood," thought she, and she shuddered and closed 
 her eyes. 
 
 When she reopened them she saw Sirona's face, with crimson 
 cheeks, turned toward her husband; she was unhurt but 
 Her mas? 
 
 " That is his blood!" she thought, with anguish, and a voice 
 seemed to scream in her very heart, " I, his murderess, have 
 shed it." 
 
 Her hands lost their hold of the shutters, her feet touched 
 the pavement of the yard, and, driven by her bitter anguish of 
 soul, she fled out by the way she had come out into the open 
 and up to the mountain. She felt that rather would she defy 
 the prowling panthers, the night-chill, hunger and thirst, than 
 appear again before Dame Dorothea, the senator, and Mar- 
 thana with this guilt on her soul; and the flying Miriam was 
 one of the goblin forms that had terrified Paulus. 
 
 The patient anchorite sat down again on the stone seat. 
 " The frost is really cruel," thought he, " and a very good 
 thing is such a woolly sheep-skin; but the Saviour endured far 
 other sufferings- than these, and for what did I quit the world 
 but to imitate Him, and to endure to the end here that I may 
 win the joys of the other world. There, where angels soar, 
 man will need no wretched ram's-fell, and this time certainly 
 selfishness has been far from me, for I really and truly suffer 
 for another I am freezing for Hernias, and to spare the old 
 man pain. I would it were even colder! Nay, I will never, 
 absolutely never again, lay a skeep-skin over my shoulders. " 
 
 Paulus nodded his head as if to signify assent to his own re- 
 solve; but presently he looked graver, for again it seemed to 
 him that he was walking in a wrong path. 
 
 "Ay! Man achieves a handful of good, and forthwith his 
 heart swells with a camel-load of pride. What though my 
 teeth are chattering, I am none the less a most miserable creat- 
 ure. How it tickled my vanity, in spite of all my meditations 
 and scruples, when they came from Kaithu and offered me the 
 office of elder; I felt more triumphant the first time I won with 
 the quadriga, but I was scarcely more puffed up with pride 
 then than I was yesterday. How many who think to follow 
 the Lord strive only to be exalted as He is; they keep well out 
 of the way of His abasement. Thou, oh, Thou Mosf High, 
 art my witness that 'I earnestly seek it, but so soon as the 
 thorns tear my flesh the drops of blood turn to roses, and if I 
 put them aside, others come and still fling garlands in my
 
 HOMO SUM. 303 
 
 way. I verily believe that it is as hard here on earth to find 
 pain without pleasure as pleasure without pain. " 
 
 While thus he meditated his teeth chattered with cold, but 
 suddenly his reflections were interrupted, for the dogs set up a 
 loud barking. Phoebicius was knocking at the senator's door. 
 
 Paulus rose at once and approached the gate-way. He could 
 hear every word that was spoken in the court-yard : the deep 
 voice was the senator's, the high sharp tones must be the cen- 
 turion's. 
 
 Phcebicius was demanding his wife back from Petrus, as she 
 had hidden in his house, while Petrus positively declared that 
 Sirona had not crossed his threshold since the morning of the 
 previous day. 
 
 In spite of the vehement and indignant tones in which his 
 lodger spoke, the senator remained perfectly calm, and pres- 
 ently went away to ask his wife whether she by chance, while 
 he was asleep, had opened the house to the missing woman. 
 Paulus heard the soldier's steps as he paced up and down the 
 court-yard, but they soon ceased, for Dame Dorothea appeared 
 at the door with her husband, and on her part emphatically 
 declared that the knew nothing of Sirona. 
 
 " Your son Polykarp, then," interrupted Phoabicius, " will 
 be better informed of her whereabouts. " 
 
 " My son has been since yesterday at Eaithu on business," 
 said Petrus, resolutely but evasively; " we expect him home 
 to-day only. " 
 
 " It would seem that he has been quick, and has returned 
 much sooner," retorted Phrebicius. "Our preparations for 
 sacrificing on the mountain were no secret, and the absence of 
 the master of the house is the opportunity for thieves to break 
 in above all, for lovers who throw roses into their ladies' win- 
 dows. You Christians boast that you regard the marriage tie 
 as sacred, but it seems to me that you apply the rule only to 
 your fellow-believers. Your sons may make free to take their 
 pleasure among the wives of the heathen; it only remains to 
 be proved whether the heathen husbands will be trifled with or 
 not. So far as I am concerned, I am inclined for anything 
 rather than jesting. I would have you to understand that I 
 will never let Caesar's uniform, which I wear, be stained by 
 disgrace, and that I am minded to search your house, and if I 
 find my undutiful wife and your son within its walls, I will 
 carry them and you before the judge, and sue for my rights." 
 
 " You will seek in vain," replied Petrus, commanding him- 
 self with difficulty. " My word is yea or nay, and I repeat 
 once more no, we harbor neither her nor him. As for Doro-
 
 104 HOMO SUM. 
 
 thea and myself, neither of us is inclined to interfere in your 
 concerns,, but neither will we permit another be he whom he 
 may to interfere in ours. This threshold shall never be 
 crossed by any but those to whom I grant permission, or by 
 the emperor's judge, to whom I must yield. You I forbid to 
 enter. Sirona is not here, and you would do better to seek her 
 elsewhere than to fritter away your time here." 
 
 " I do not require your advice!" cried the centurion, wrath- 
 fully. 
 
 " And I," retorted Petrus, " do not feel myself called upon 
 to arrange your matrimonial difficulties. Besides you can get 
 back Sirona without our help, for it is always more difficult to 
 keep a wife safe in the house than to fetch her back when she 
 has run away." 
 
 " You shall learn whom you have to deal with!" threatened 
 the centurion, and he threw a glance round at the slaves, who 
 had collected in the court., and who had been joined by the 
 senator's eldest son. " I shall call my people together at 
 once, and if you have the seducer among you we will intercept 
 his escape." 
 
 " Only wait an hour," said Dorothea, now taking up the 
 word, while she gently touched her husband's hand, for his self- 
 control was almost exhausted, " and you will see Polykarp ride 
 home on his father's horse. Is it only from the roses that my 
 son threw into your wife's window that you suppose him to be 
 her seducer she plays so kindly with all his brothers and sis- 
 ters or are there other reasons which move you to insult and 
 hurt us with so heavy an accusation?" 
 
 Often when wrathful men threaten to meet with an explo- 
 sion, like black thunder-clouds, a word from the mouth of a 
 sensible woman gives them pause, and restrains them, like a 
 breath of soft wind. 
 
 Phoebicius had no mind to listen to any speech from Poly- 
 karp's mother, but her question suggested to him for the first 
 time a rapid retrospect of all that had occurred, and he could 
 not conceal from himself that his suspicions rested on weak 
 grounds. And at the same time he now said to himself that 
 if indeed Sirona had fled into the desert instead of to the sena- 
 tor's house he was wasting time, and letting the start, which 
 she had already gained, increase in a fatal degree. 
 
 But few seconds were needed for these reflections, and as he 
 was accustomed, when need arose, to control himself, he said: 
 
 "We must see some means must be found " and then 
 without any greeting to his host, he slowly returned to his own 
 house. But he had not reached the door, when he heard hoofs
 
 HOMO SUM. 105 
 
 on the road, and Petrus called after him, "Grant us a few 
 minutes longer, for here comes Polykarp, and he can justify 
 himself to you in his* own person. " 
 
 The centurion paused, the senator signed to old Jethro to 
 open the gate; a man was heard to spring from his saddle, but 
 it was an Amalekite and not Polykarp who came into the 
 court. 
 
 " "What news do you bring?" asked the senator, turning 
 half to the messenger and half to the centurion. 
 
 " My lord Polykarp, your son," replied tjie Amalekite a 
 dark brown man of ripe years with supple limbs, and a sharp 
 tongue " sends his greetings to you and to the mistress, and 
 would have you to know that before midday he will arrive at 
 home with eight workmen, whom he has engaged in Raithu. 
 Dame Dorothea must be good enough to make ready for them 
 all and to prepare a meal/' 
 
 " When did you part from my son?" inquired Petrus. 
 
 " Two hours before sundown." 
 
 Petrus heaved a sigh of relief, for he had not till now been 
 perfectly convinced of his son's innocence; but, far from tri- 
 umphing or making Phcebicius feel the injustice he had done 
 him, he said kindly for he felt some sympathy with the Gaul 
 in his misfortune : 
 
 " I wish the messenger could also give some news of your 
 wife's retreat; she found it hard to accommodate herself to the 
 dull life here in the oasis, perhaps she has only disappeared in 
 order to seek a town which may offer more variety to such a 
 beautiful young creature than this quiet spot in the desert. " 
 
 Phcebicius waved his hand with a negative movement, im- 
 plying that he knew better, and said: 
 
 " I will show you what your nice night-bird left in my nest. 
 It may be that you can tell me to whom it belongs. " 
 
 Just as he hastily stepped across the court-yard to his own 
 dwelling Paulus entered by the now open gate; he greeted the 
 senator and his family, and offered Petrus the key of the 
 church. 
 
 The sun meanwhile had risen, and the Alexandrian blushed 
 to show himself in Dame Dorothea's presence in his short and 
 ragged undergarment, which was quite inefficient to cover the 
 still athletic mold of his limbs. Petrus had heard nothing but 
 good of Paulus, and yet he measured him now with no friendly 
 eye, for all that wore the aspect of extravagance repelled his 
 temperate and methodical nature. Paulus Avas made conscious 
 of what was passing in the senator's mind when, without 
 vouchsafing a single word, he took the key from his hand. It
 
 106 HOMO SUM. 
 
 was not a matter of indifference to him that this man should 
 think ill of him, and he said, with some embarrassment: 
 
 " We do not usually go among people without a sheep-skin, 
 but I have lost mine." 
 
 Hardly had he uttered the words, when Phoebicius came back 
 with Hermas's sheep-skin in his hand, and cried out to Petrus: 
 
 " This I found on my return home, in our sleeping-room." 
 
 " And when have you ever seen Polykarpin such a mantle?" 
 asked Dorothea. 
 
 " When the gods visit the daughters of men," replied the 
 centurion, " they have always made choice of strange disguises. 
 Why should not a perfumed Alexandrian gentleman transform 
 himself for once into one of those rough fools on the mount- 
 ain? However, even old Homer sometimes nodded and I con- 
 fess that I was in error with regard to your son. I meant no 
 offense, senator! You have lived here longer than I; who can 
 have made me a present of this skin, which still seems to be 
 pretty new horns and all?" 
 
 Petrus examined and felt the skin. " This is an anchorite's 
 garment," he said; "the penitents on the mountain are all 
 accustomed to wear such. " 
 
 " It is one of those rascals then that has found his way into 
 my house!" exclaimed the centurion. " I bear Caesar's com- 
 mission, and I am to exterminate all vagabonds that trouble 
 the dwellers in the oasis, or travelers in the desert. Thus run 
 the orders which I brought with me from Eome. I will drive 
 the low fellows together like deer for hunting, for they are all 
 rogues and villains, and I shall know how to torture them 
 until I find the right one." 
 
 '"' The emperor will ill-requite you for that," replied Petrus. 
 " They are pious Christians, and you know that Constantino 
 himself" 
 
 " Constantine!" exclaimed the centurion, scornfully. " Per- 
 haps he will let himself be baptized, for water can hurt no one, 
 and he can not, like the great Diocletian, exterminate the 
 masses who run after the crucified miracle-monger, without 
 depopulating the country. Look at these coins; here is the 
 image of Caesar, and what is this on the other side? Is this 
 your Nazarene, or is it the old god, the immortal and invinci- 
 ble sun? And is that man one of your creed, who in Con- 
 stantinople adores Tyche and the Dioscuri Castor and Pollux? 
 The water he is baptized with to-day he will wipe away to- 
 morrow, and the old gods will be his defenders, if in more 
 peaceful times he maintains them against your superstitions." 
 
 " But it will be a good while till then," said Petrus coolly.
 
 HOMO SUM. 107 
 
 " For the present, at least, Constantine is the protector of the 
 Christians. I advise you to put your affair into the hands of 
 Bishop Agapitus. " 
 
 " That he may serve me up a dish of your doctrine, which is 
 bad even for women," said the centurion, laughing; "and 
 that I may kiss my enemies' feet? They are a vile rabble up 
 there, I repeat, and they shall be treated as such till I have 
 found my man. I shall begin the hunt this very day. " 
 
 11 And this very day you may end it, for the sheep-skin is 
 mine. " 
 
 It was Paulus who spoke these words in a loud and decided 
 tone; all eyes were at once turned on him and on the centurion. 
 
 Petrus and the slaves had frequently seen the anchorite, but 
 never without a sheep-skin similar to that which Phcebicius 
 held in his hand. The anchorite's self-accusation must have 
 appeared incredible, and indeed scarcely possible, to all who 
 knew Paulus and Sirona; and nevertheless no one, not even 
 the senator, doubted it for an instant. Dame Dorothea only 
 shook her head incredulously, and though she could find no ex- 
 planation for the occurrence, she still could not but say to her- 
 self that this man did not look like a lover, and that Sirona 
 would hardly have forgotten her duty for his sake. She could 
 not indeed bring herself to believe in Sirona' s guilt at all, for 
 she was heartily well-disposed toward her; besides though it, 
 no doubt, was not right her motherly vanity inclined her to 
 believe that if the handsome young woman had indeed sinned, 
 she would have preferred her fine tall Polykarp whose roses 
 and flaming glances she blamed in all sincerity to this shaggy, 
 wild-looking gray beard. 
 
 Quite otherwise thought the centurion. He was quite ready 
 to believe in the anchorite's confession, for the more un- 
 worthy the man for whom Sirona had broken faith, the greater 
 seemed her guilt, and the more unpardonable her levity; and 
 to Ins man's vanity it seemed to him easier particularly in the 
 presence of such witnesses as Petrus and Dorothea to bear the 
 fact that his wife should have sought variety and pleasure at 
 any cost, even at that of devoting herself to a ragged beggar, 
 than that she should have given her affections to a younger, 
 handsomer, and worthier man than himself. He had sinned 
 much against her, but all that lay like feathers on his side of 
 the scales, while that which she had done weighed down hers 
 like a load of lead. He began to feel like a man who, in wad- 
 ing through a bog, has gained firm ground with one foot, and 
 all these feelings gave him energy to walk up to the anchorite
 
 108 HOMO SUM. 
 
 with a self-control of which he was not generally master, ex- 
 cepting when on duty at the head of his soldiers. 
 
 He approached the Alexandrian with an assumption of dig- 
 nity and a demeanor which testified to his formerly having 
 taken part in the representations of tragedies in the theaters 
 of great cities. Paulus, on his part, did not retreat by a single 
 step, but looked at him with a smile that alarmed Petrus and 
 the rest of the by-standers. The law put the anchorite abso- 
 lutely into the power of the outraged husband, but Phoebicius 
 did not seem disposed to avail himself of his rights, and noth- 
 ing but contempt and loathing were perceptible in his tone, as 
 he said: 
 
 " A man who takes hold of a mangy dog in order to punish 
 him only dirties his hand. The woman who betrayed me for 
 your sake, and you you dirty beggar are worthy of each 
 other. I could crush you like a fly that can be destroyed 
 by a blow of my hand if I chose, but my sword is Caesar's, and 
 shall never be soiled by such foul blood as yours; however, the 
 beast shall not have cast off his skin for nothing; it is thick, 
 and so you have only spared me the trouble of tearing it off be- 
 fore giving you your due. You shall find no lack of blows. 
 Confess where your sweetheart has fled to and they shall be 
 few, but if you are slow to answer they will be many. Lend 
 me that thing there, fellow!" 
 
 With these words he took a whip of hippopotamus hide out 
 of a camel-driver's hand, went close up to the Alexandrian, 
 and asked: " Where is Sirona?" 
 
 " Nay, you may beat me," said Paulus. " However hard 
 your whip may fall on me, it can not be heavy enough for my 
 sins; but as to where your wife is hiding, that I really can not 
 tell you not even if you were to tear my limbs with pincers 
 instead of stroking me with that wretched thing." 
 
 There was something so genuinely honest in Paulus's voice 
 and tone, that the centurion was inclined to believe him; but 
 it was not his way to let a threatened punishment fail of execu- 
 tion, and this strange beggar should learn by experience that 
 when his hand intended to hit hard, it was far from " strok- 
 ing. " And Paulus did experience it, without uttering a cry, 
 and without stirring from the spot where he stood. 
 
 When at last Phoabicius dropped his weary arm and breath- 
 lessly repeated his question, the ill-used man replied : 
 
 " I told you before I do not know, and therefore I can not 
 reveal it." 
 
 Up to this moment Petrus, though he had felt strongly im- 
 pelled to rush to the rescue of his severely handled fellow-be-
 
 HOMO SUM. 109 
 
 liever, had nevertheless allowed the injured husband to have 
 his way, for he seemed disposed to act with unusual mildness, 
 and the Alexandrian to be worthy of all punishment; but at 
 this point Dorothea's request would not have been needed to 
 prompt him to interfere. 
 
 He went up to the centurion, and said to him in an under- 
 tone: 
 
 " You have given the evil-doer his due, and if you desire 
 that he should undergo a severer punishment than you can in- 
 flict, carry the matter I say once more before the bishop. 
 You will gain nothing more here. Take my word for it. I 
 know the man and his fellow-men; he actually knows nothing 
 of where your wife is hiding, and you are only wasting the time 
 and strength which you would* do better to save in order to 
 search for Sirona. I fancy she will have tried to reach the sea, 
 and to get to Egypt or possibly to Alexandria; and there you 
 know what the Greek city is she will fall into utter ruin/' 
 
 " And so," laughed the Gaul, " find what she seeks variety 
 and every kind of pleasure. For a young thing like that, who 
 loves amusement, there is no pleasant occupation but vice. 
 But I will spoil her game; you are right, it is not well to give 
 her too long a start. If she has found the road to the sea, she 
 may already Hey, here Talib!" He beckoned to Polykarp's 
 Amalekite messenger. " You have just come from Eaithu; 
 did you meet a flying woman on the way, with yellow hair and 
 a white face?" 
 
 The Amalekite, a free man with sharp eyes, who was highly 
 esteemed in the senator's house, and even by Phcebicius him- 
 self, as a trustworthy and steady man, had expected this ques- 
 tion, and eagerly replied : 
 
 " At two stadia beyond El Heswe I met a large caravan from 
 Petria, which rested yesterday in the oasis here; a woman, such 
 as you describe, was running with it. When I heard what had 
 happened here I wanted to speak, but who listens to a cricket 
 while it thunders?" 
 
 " Had she a lame greyhound with her?" asked Phoebicius, 
 full of expectation. 
 
 " She carried something in her arms," answered the Amale- 
 kite. " In the moonlight I took it for a baby. My brother, 
 who was escorting the caravan, told me the lady was no doubt 
 running away, for she had paid the charge for the escort not 
 in ready money, but with a gold signet-ring." 
 
 The Gaul remembered a certain gold ring with a finely carved 
 onyx, which long years ago he had taken from Glycera's finger,
 
 110 HOMO SUM. 
 
 for she had another one like it, and which he had given to 
 Sirona on the day of their marriage. 
 
 " It is strange!" thought he; " what we give to women to 
 bind them to us they use as weapons to turn against us, be it 
 to please some other man, or to smooth the path by which they 
 escape from us. It was with a bracelet of Glycera's that I paid 
 the captain of the ship that brought us to Alexandria; but the 
 soft-hearted fool, whose dove flew after me, and I are men of a 
 different stamp; I will follow my flown bird, and catch it 
 again. " 
 
 He spoke the last words aloud, and then desired one of the 
 senator's slaves to give his mule a good feed and drink, for his 
 own groom and the superior decurion who during his absence 
 must take his place, were also worshipers of Mithras, and had 
 not yet returned from the mountain. 
 
 Phcebicius did not doubt that the woman who had joined the 
 caravan which he himself had seen yesterday was his fugitive 
 wife, and he knew that his delay might have reduced his earnest 
 wish to overtake her and punish her to the remotest proba- 
 bility; but he was a Roman soldier, and would rather have laid 
 violent hands on himself than have left his post without a 
 deputy. "When at last his fellow-worshipers came from their 
 sacrifice and worship of the rising sun, his preparations for his 
 long journey were completed. 
 
 Phcebicius carefully impressed on the decurion all he had to 
 do during his absence, and how he was to conduct himself; 
 then he delivered the key of his house into Petrus's keeping as 
 well as the black slave-woman, who wept loudly and passion- 
 ately over the flight of her mistress; he requested the senator 
 to bring the anchorite's misdeed to the knowledge of the 
 bishop, and then, guided by the Amalekite Talib, who rode 
 before him on his dromedary, he trotted hastily away in pur- 
 suit of the caravan, so as to reach the sea, if possible, before 
 its embarkation. 
 
 As the hoofs of the mule sounded fainter and fainter in the 
 distance, Paul us also quitted the senator's court-yard; Dorothea 
 pointed after him as he walked toward the mountain. " In 
 truth, husband," said she, " this has been a strange morning; 
 everything that has occurred looks as clear as day, and yet I 
 can not understand it all. My heart aches when I think what 
 may happen to the wretched Sirona if her enraged husband 
 overtakes her. It seems to me that there are two sorts of mar- 
 riage; one was instituted by the most loving of the angels, nay, 
 by the All-Merciful himself, but the other it is not to be 
 thought of! How can those two live together for the future?
 
 HOMO SUM. Ill 
 
 And that under our roof! Their closed house looks to me as 
 though ruined and burned out, and we have already seen the 
 nettles spring up which grow everywhere among the ruins of 
 human dwellings. " 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE path of every star is fixed and limited, every plant 
 bears flowers and fruit which in form and color exactly resem- 
 ble their kind, and in all the fundamental characteristics of 
 their qualities and dispositions, of their instinctive bent and 
 external impulse, all animals of the same species resemble each 
 other; thus, the hunter who knows the red deer in his fathers' 
 forest, may know in every forest on earth how the stag will 
 behave in any given case. The better a genus is fitted for 
 variability in the comformation of its individuals, the higher is 
 the rank it is entitled to hold in the graduated series of creat- 
 ures capable of development; and it is precisely that wonderful 
 many-sidedness of his inner life, and of its outward manifesta- 
 tion, which assigns to man his superiority over all other ani- 
 mated beings. 
 
 Some few of our qualities and activities can be fitly sym- 
 bolized in allegorical fashion by animals; thus, courage finds 
 an emblem in the lion, gentleness in the dove, but the perfect 
 human form has satisfied a thousand generations, and will 
 satisfy a thousand more, when we desire to reduce the divinity 
 to a sensible image, for, in truth, our heart is as surely capa- 
 ble of comprehending " God in us " that is in our feelings 
 as our intellect is capable of comprehending His outward mani- 
 festation in the universe. 
 
 Every characteristic of every finite being is to be found again 
 in man, and no characteristic that we can attribute to the Most 
 High is foreign to our own soul, which, in like manner, is in- 
 finite and immeasurable, for it can extend its investigating 
 feelers to the very utmost boundary of space and time. Hence, 
 the roads which are open to the soul are numberless as those 
 of the divinity. Often they seem strange, but the initiated 
 very well know that these roads are in accordance to fixed laws, 
 and that even the most exceptional emotions of the soml may
 
 112 HOMO SUM. 
 
 be traced back to causes which were capable of giving rise to 
 them and to no others. 
 
 Blows hurt, disgrace is a burden, and unjust punishment 
 embitters the heart; but Paulus's soul had sought and found a 
 way to which these simple propositions did not apply. 
 
 He had been ill-used and contemned, and, though perfectly 
 innocent, ere he left the oasis he was condemned to the severest 
 penance. As soon as the bishop had heard from Petrus of 
 all that had happened in his house, he had sent for Paulus, 
 and as he could answer nothing to the accusation, he had ex- 
 pelled him from his flock to which the anchorites belonged 
 forbidden him to visit the church on week days, and declared 
 that this his sentence should be publicly proclaimed before the 
 assembled congregation of the believers. 
 
 And how did this affect Paulus as he climbed the mountain,, 
 lonely and proscribed? 
 
 A fisherman from the little sea-port of Pharan, who met him 
 half way and exchanged a greeting with him, thought to him- 
 self as he looked after him, " The great gray-beard looks as 
 happy as if he had found a treasure." Then he walked on 
 into the valley with his scaly wares, reminded, as he went, of 
 his son's expression of face when his wife bore him his first lit- 
 tle one. 
 
 Near the watch-tower at the edge of the defile, a party of 
 anchorites were piling some stones together. They had already 
 heard of the bishop's sentence on Paulus, the sinner, and they 
 gave him no greeting. He observed it and was silent, but 
 when they could no longer see him he laughed to himself and 
 muttered, while he rubbed a weal that the centurion's whip 
 had left upon his back, " If they think that a Gaul's cudgel 
 has a pleasant flavor they are mistaken; however I would not 
 exchange it for a skin of Anthylian wine; and if they could 
 only know that at least one of the stripes which torments me 
 is due to each one of themselves, they would be surprised! 
 But away with pride! How they spat on Thee, Jesus my 
 Lord, and who am I, and how mildly have they dealt with me, 
 when I for once have taken on my back another's stripes. 
 Not a drop of blood was drawn ! I wish the old man had hit 
 harder !" 
 
 He walked cheerfully forward, and his mind recurred to the 
 centurion's speech that " he could, if he list, tread him down 
 like a worm," and he laughed- again softly, for he was quite 
 aware that he was ten times as strong as Phcebicius, and for- 
 merly he had overthrown the braggart Arkesilaos of Kyrene 
 and his cousin, the tall Xeuophaues, both at once in the sand
 
 HOMO SUM. 113 
 
 of the Palaestra. Then he thought of Hermas, of his sweet 
 dead mother, and of his father, and which was the most com- 
 forting thought of all of how he had spared the old man this 
 bitter sorrow. 
 
 On his path there grew a little plant with a reddish blossom. 
 In years he had never looked at a flower, or, at any rate, had 
 never wished to possess one; to-day he stooped down over the 
 blossom that graced the rock, meaning to pluck it. But he 
 did not carry out his intention, for before he had laid his hand 
 upon it he reflected : 
 
 " To whom could I offer it? And perhaps the flowers them- 
 selves rejoice in the light, and in the silent life that is in their 
 roots. How tightly it clings to the rock. Further away from 
 the road flowers of even greater beauty blow, seen by no mor- 
 tal eye; they deck themselves in beauty for no one but for their 
 Creator, and because they rejoice in themselves. I, too, will 
 withdraw from the highways of mankind ; let them accuse me ! 
 so long as I live at peace with myself and my God I ask noth- 
 ing of any one. He that abases himself ay, he that abases 
 himself! My hour, too, shall come, and above and beyond this 
 life I shall see them all once more: Petrus and Dorothea, 
 Agapitus and the brethren who now refuse to receive me, and 
 then, when my Saviour himself beckons me to Him, they will 
 see me as I am, and hasten to me and greet me with double 
 kindness.'* 
 
 He looked up, proud and rejoicing as he thought thus, and 
 painted to himself the joys of Paradise, to which this day he 
 had earned an assured claim. He never took longer and swifter 
 steps than when his mind was occupied with such meditations, 
 and when he reached Stephanus's cave he thought the way 
 from the oasis to the heights had been shorter than usual. 
 
 He found the sick man in great anxiety, for he had waited 
 until now for his son in vain, and feared that Hernias had 
 met with some accident or had abandoned him, and fled out 
 into the world. Paulus soothed him with gentle words, and 
 told him of the errand on which he had sent the lad to the 
 further coast of the sea. 
 
 We are never better disposed to be satisfied with even bad 
 news than when we have expected it to be much worse; so 
 Stephanus listened to his friend's explanation quite calmly, 
 and with signs of approval. He could no longer conceal from 
 himself that Hernias was not ripe for the life of an anchorite, 
 and since he had learned that his unhappy wife whom he had 
 so long given up for lost had died a Christian, he found that 
 he could reconcile his thoughts to relinquishing the boy to the
 
 114 HOMO SUM. 
 
 world. He had devoted himself and his son to a life of pen- 
 ance, hoping and striving that so Glycera's soul might be 
 snatched from damnation, and now he knew that she herself 
 had earned her title to heaven. 
 
 " When will he come home again?" he asked Paulus. 
 
 " In five or six days," was the answer. " Ali, the fisher- 
 man out of whose foot I took a thorn some time since in- 
 formed me secretly, as I was going to church yesterday, that 
 the Blemmyes are gathering behind the sulphur mountains; 
 when they have withdrawn it will be high time to send Hermas 
 to Alexandria. My brother is still alive, and for my sake he 
 will receive him as a blood relation, for he, too, has been bap- 
 tized. 
 
 " He may attend the school of catechumens in the metrop- 
 olis, and if he if he " 
 
 " That we shall see/' interrupted Paulus. " For the pres- 
 ent it. comes to this, we must let him go from hence, and leave 
 him to seek out his own way. You fancy that there may be 
 in heaven a place of glory for such as have never been over- 
 come, and you would fain have seen Hermas among them. It 
 reminds me of the physician of Corinth, who boasted that he 
 was cleverer than any of his colleagues, for that not one of his 
 patients had ever died. And the man was right, for neither 
 man nor beast had ever trusted to his healing arts. Let 
 Hernias try his young strength, and even if he be no priest, 
 but a valiant warrior like his forefathers, even so he may 
 honestly serve God. But it will be a long time before all this 
 comes to pass. So long as he is away I will attend on you 
 you still have some water in your jar?" 
 
 " It has twice been filled for me," said the old man. " The 
 brown shepherdess, who so often waters her goats at our 
 spring, came to me the first thing in the morning and again 
 about two hours ago; she asked after Hermas, and then offered 
 of her own accord to fetch water for me so long as he was 
 away. She is as timid as a bird, and flew off as soon as she 
 had set down the jug. " 
 
 " She belongs to Petrus, and can not leave her goats for 
 long," said Paulus. " Xow, I will go and find you some herbs 
 for a relish; there will be no more wine in the first place. 
 Look me in the face for how great a sinner now do you take 
 me? Think the very worst of me, and yet perhaps you will 
 hear worse said of me. But here come two men. Stay! one 
 is Hilarion, one of the bishop's acolytes, and the other is 
 Pachomius the Memphite, who lately came to the mountain. 
 They are coming up here, and the Egyptian is carrying a
 
 HOMO SUM. 115 
 
 small jar. I would it might hold some more wine to keep up 
 your strength. ' ' 
 
 The two friends had not long to remain in ignorance of 
 their visitors' purpose. So soon as they reached Stephanus's 
 cave both turned their backs on Paulus with conspicuously 
 marked intention; nay, the acolyte signed his brow with the 
 cross, as if he thought it necessary to protect himself against 
 evil influences. 
 
 The Alexandrian understood; he drew back and was silent, 
 while Hilarion explained to he sick man that Paulus was guilty 
 of grave sins, and that, until he had done full penance, he 
 must remain excluded as a rotten sheep from the bishop's 
 flock, as well as interdicted from waiting on a pious Christian. 
 
 " We know from Petrus," the speaker went on, " that your 
 son, father, has been sent across the sea, and as you still need 
 waiting on, Agajntus sends you by me his blessing and this 
 strengthening wine; this youth, too, will stay by you, and pro- 
 vide you with all necessaries until Hennas comes home." 
 
 With these words he gave the wine-jar to the old man, who 
 looked in astonishment from him to Paulus, who felt indeed 
 cut to the heart when the bishop's messenger turned to him 
 for an instant, and with the cry, " Get thee out from among 
 us!" disappeared. 
 
 How many kindly ties, how many services willingly rendered 
 and affectionately accepted were swept away by these words 
 but Paulus obeyed at once. He went up to his sick friend, 
 their eyes met and each could see that the eyes of the other 
 were dimmed with tears. 
 
 " Paulus," cried the old man, stretching out both his hands 
 to his departing friend, whom he felt he could forgive what- 
 ever bis guilt; but the Alexandrian did not take them, but 
 turned away, and. without looking back, hastily went up the 
 mountain to a pathless spot, and then on toward the valley 
 onward and still onward, till he was brought to a pause by the 
 steep declivity of the hollow way which led southward from 
 the mountains into the oasis. 
 
 The sun stood' high, and it was burning hot. Streaming 
 with sweat and panting for breath he leaned against the glow- 
 ing porphyry wall behind him, hid his face in his hands and 
 strove to collect himself, to think, to pray for a long time in 
 vain; for instead of joy in the suffering which he had taken 
 upon himself, the grief of isolation weighed upon his heart, 
 and the lamentable cry of the old man had left a warning echo 
 in his soul, and roused doubts of the righteousness of a deed, 
 by which even the best and purest had been deceived, and led
 
 116 HOMO SUM. 
 
 into injustice toward him. His heart was breaking with 
 anguish and grief, but when at last he returned to the con- 
 sciousness of his sufferings, physical and mental, he began to 
 recover his courage, and even smiled as he murmured to him- 
 self: 
 
 " It is well, it is well the more I suffer the more surely 
 shall I find grace. And besides, if the old man had seen Her- 
 mas go through what I have experienced it would undoubtedly 
 have killed him. Certainly I wish it could have been done 
 without without ay, it is even so without deceit; even 
 when' I was a heathen I was truthful and held a lie, whether 
 in myself or in another, in as deep horror as Father Abraham 
 held murder, and yet when the Lord required him, he led his 
 son Isaac to the slaughter. And Moses, when he beat the over- 
 seer and Elias, and Deborah, and Judith I have taken upon 
 myself no less than they, but my He will surely be forgiven 
 me, if it is not reckoned against them that they shed blood. " 
 
 These and such reflections restored Paulus to equanimity 
 and to satisfaction with his conduct, and he began to consider, 
 whether he should return to his old cave and the neighborhood 
 of Stephanus, or seek for a new abode. He decided on the 
 latter course; but first he must find fresh water and some sort 
 of nourishment, for his mouth and tongue were quite parched. 
 
 Lower down hi the valley sprung a brooklet of which he 
 knew, and hard by it grew various herbs and roots, with 
 which he had often allayed his hunger. He followed the de- 
 clivity to its base, then turning to the left, he crossed a small 
 table-land, which was easily accessible from the gorge, but 
 which on the side of the oasis formed a perpendicular cliff 
 many fathoms deep. Between it and the main mass of the 
 mountain rose numerous single peaks, like a camp of granite 
 tents, or a wildly tossing sea suddenly turned to stone ; behind 
 these blocks ran the streamlet, which he found after a short 
 search. 
 
 Perfectly refreshed, and with renewed resolve to bear the 
 worst with patience, he returned to the plateau, and from the 
 edge of the precipice he gazed down into the deseit gorge that 
 stretched away far below his feet, and in whose deepest and 
 remotest hollow the palm groves and tamarisk thickets of the 
 oasis showed as a sharply defined mass of green, like a luxu- 
 riant wreath flung upon a bier. The whitewashed roofs of the 
 little town of Pharan shone brightly among the branches and 
 clumps of verdure, and above them all rose the new church, 
 which he was now forbidden to enter. For a moment the 
 thought was keenly painful that he was excluded from the
 
 HOMO SUM. 117 
 
 devotions of the community, from the Lord's supper, and 
 from congregational prayer, but then he asked, was not every 
 block of stone on the mountain an altar? was not the blue 
 sky above a thousand times wider and more splendid than the 
 mightiest dome raised by the hand of man, not even excepting 
 the vaulted roof of the Serapeum at Alexandria? and he re- 
 membered the " Amen " of the stones that had rung out 
 after the preaching of the blind man. By this time he had 
 quite recovered himself, and he went toward the cliff in order 
 to find a cavern that he knew of, and that was empty for its 
 gray-headed inhabitant had died some weeks since. " Verily/' 
 thought he, " it seems to me that I am by no means weighed 
 down by the burden of my disgrace, but, on the contrary, 
 lifted up. Here at least I need not cast down my eyes, for I 
 am alone with my God, and in His presence I feel I need not 
 be ashamed." 
 
 Thus meditating, he pressed on through a narrow space, 
 which divided two huge masses of porphyry, but suddenly he 
 stood still, for he heard the barking of a dog in his immediate 
 neighborhood, and a few minutes after a greyhound rushed 
 toward him now indignantly flying at him, and now timidly 
 retreating while it carefully held up one leg, which was 
 wrapped in a many-colored bandage. 
 
 Paulus recollected the inquiry which Phosbicius had ad- 
 dressed to the Amalekite as to a greyhound, and he immediate- 
 ly guessed that the GauFs runaway wife must be not far off. 
 His heart beat more quickly, and although he did not imme- 
 diately know how he should meet the disloyal wife, he felt 
 himself impelled to go and seek her. Without delay he fol- 
 lowed the way by which the dog had come, and soon caught 
 sight of a light garment, which vanished behind the nearest 
 rock, and then behind a further, and yet a further one. 
 
 At last he came up with the fleeing woman. She was stand- 
 ing at the very edge of a precipice, that rose high and sheer 
 above the abyss a strange and fearful sight; her long golden 
 hair had got tangled, and waved over her bosom and shoulders, 
 half plaited, half undone. Only one foot was firm on the 
 ground; the other with its thin sandal all torn by the sharp 
 stones was stretched out over the abyss, ready for the next 
 fatal step. At the next instant she might disappear over the 
 cliff, for though with her right hand she held on to a point of 
 rock, Paulus could see^. that the bowlder had no connection 
 with the rock on which she stood, and rocked to and fro. 
 
 She hung over the edge of the chasm like a sleep-walker, or 
 a possessed creature pursued by demons, and at the same time
 
 118 HOMO SUM. 
 
 her eyes glistened with such wild madness, and she drew her 
 breath with such feverish rapidity that Paulas, who had come 
 close up to her, involuntarily drew back. He saw that her 
 lips moved, and though he could not understand what she said, 
 he felt that her voiceless utterance was to warn him back. 
 
 What should he do? If he hurried forward to save her by a 
 hasty grip, and if this maneuver lailed, she would fling herself 
 irredeemably into the abyss; if he left her to herself the stone 
 to which she clung would get looser and looser, and as soon as 
 it fell she would certainly fall too. He had once heard it 
 said that sleep-walkers always threw themselves down when 
 they heard their names spoken; this statement now recurred 
 to his mind, and he forbore from calling, out to her. 
 
 Once more the unhappy woman waved him off; his very 
 heart stopped beating, for her movements were wild and 
 vehement, and he could see that the stone which she was 
 holding on by shifted its place. He understood nothing of all 
 the words which she tried to say for her voice, which only 
 yesterday had been so sweet, to-day was inaudibly hoarse ex- 
 cept the one name " Phcebicius," and he felt no doubt that she 
 clung to the stone over the abyss, so that, like the mountain- 
 goat when it sees itself surprised by the hunter, she might fling 
 herself into the depths below rather than be taken by her pur- 
 suer. Paul us saw in her neither her guilt nor her beauty, but 
 only a child of man trembling on the brink of a fearful danger 
 whom he must save from death at any cost; and the thought 
 that he was at any rate not a spy sent in pursuit of her by her 
 husband, suggested to hka the first words which he found 
 courage to address to the desperate woman. They were simple 
 words enough, but they were spoken in a tone which fully ex- 
 pressed the child-like amiability of his warm heart, and the 
 Alexandrian, who had been brought up in the most approved 
 school of the city of orators, involuntarily uttered his words in 
 the admirably rich and soft-chest voice which he so well knew 
 how to use. 
 
 " Be thankful/' said he, " poor dear woman I have found 
 you in a fortunate hour. I am Paulus, Hermas's best friend, 
 and I would willingly serve you in your sore need. No danger 
 is now threatening you, for Phoebicius is seeking you on a 
 wrong road; you may trust me. Look at me! I do not look 
 as if I could betray a poor erring woman. But you are stand- 
 ing on a spot where I would rather see my enemy than you; 
 lay your hand confidingly in mine it is no longer white and 
 slender, but it is strong and honest grant me this request and 
 you will never rue it! See, place your foot here, and take care
 
 HOMO SUM. 119 
 
 how you leave go of the rock there. You know not how sus- 
 piciously it shook its head over your strange confidence in it. 
 Take care ! there your support has rolled it over into the abyss; 
 how it crashes and splits. It has reached the bottom, smashed 
 into a thousand pieces, and I am thankful that you preferred 
 to follow me rather than that false support." While Paul us 
 was speaking he had gone up to Sirona, as a girl whose bird 
 has escaped from its cage, and who creeps up to it with timid 
 care in the hope of recapturing it, he offered her his hand, 
 and as soon as he felt hers in his grasp; he had carefully res- 
 cued her from her fearful position, and had led her down to a 
 secure footing on the plateau. So long as she followed him 
 unresistingly he led her on toward the mountain without aim 
 or fixed destination but away, away from the abyss. 
 
 She paused by a square block of diorite, and Paulus, who 
 had not failed to observe how heavy her steps were, desired her 
 to sit down; he pushed up a flag of stone, which he propped 
 with smaller ones, so that Sirona might not lack a support for 
 her weary back. When he had accomplished this Sirona leaned 
 back against the stone, and something of dawning satisfaction 
 was audible in the soft sigh, which was the first sound that 
 had escaped her tightly closed lips since her rescue. Paulus 
 smiled at her encouragingly, and said, " Now rest a little, I 
 see what you want; one can not defy the heat of the sun for a 
 whole day with impunity. ' ' 
 
 Sirona nodded, pointed to her mouth, and implored wearily 
 and very softly for " Water, a little water." 
 
 Paulus struck his hand against his forehead, and cried 
 eagerly, " Directly I will bring you a fresh draught. In a 
 few minutes I will be back again. " 
 
 Sirona looked after him as he hastened away. Her gaze be- 
 came more and more staring and glazed, and she felt as if the 
 rock on which she was sitting were changing into the ship 
 which had brought her from Massilia to Ostia. Every heaving 
 motion of the vessel, which had made her so giddy as it danced 
 over the shifting waves, she now distinctly felt again, and at 
 last it seemed as if a whirlpool had seized the ship, and was 
 whirling it round faster and faster in a circle. She closed her 
 eyes, felt vaguely and in vain, in the air for some hold-fast, her 
 head fell powerless on one side, and before her cheek sunk 
 upon her shoulder she uttered one feeble cry of distress, for 
 she felt as if all her limbs were dropping from her body, as 
 leaves in autumn fall from the boughs, and she fell back un- 
 conscious on the stony couch which Paulus had constructed 
 for her.
 
 120 HOMO SUM. 
 
 It was the first swoon that Sirona, with her sound physical 
 and mental powers, had ever experienced; but the strongest 
 of her sex would have been overcome by the excitement, the 
 efforts, the privations, and the sufferings which had that day 
 befallen the unfortunate fair one. 
 
 At first she had fled without any plan out into the night and 
 up the mountain; the moon lighted her on her way, and for 
 fully an hour she continued her upward road without any rest. 
 Then she heard the voices of travelers who were coming toward 
 her, and she left the beaten road and tried to get away from 
 them, for she feared that her greyhound, which she still car- 
 ried on her arm, would betray her by barking, or if they heard 
 it whining, and saw it limp. At last she had sunk down on a 
 stone, and had reflected on all the events of the last few hours, 
 and on what she had to do next. She could look back dreamily 
 on the past, and build castles in the air in a blue-skied future 
 this was easy enough; but she did not find it easy to reflect 
 with due deliberation, and to think in earnest. Only one 
 thing was perfectly clear to her; she would rather starve and 
 die of thirst, and shame, and misery nay, she would rather 
 be the instrument of her own death, than return to her hus- 
 band. She knew that she must in the first instance expect ill- 
 usage, scorn, and imprisonment in a dark room at the Gaul's 
 hands; but all that seemed to her far more endurable than the 
 tenderness with which he from time to time approached her. 
 When she thought of that she shuddered and clinched her 
 white teeth, and doubled her fists so tightly that her nails cut 
 the. flesh. 
 
 -But what was she to do? If Hernias were to meet her? 
 And yet what help could she look for from him, for what was 
 he but a mere lad? and the thought of linking her life to Ms, 
 if only for a day, appeared to her foolish and ridiculous. 
 
 Certainly she felt no inclination to repent or to blame her- 
 self; still it had been a great folly on her part to call him into 
 the house for the sake of amusing herself with him. 
 
 Then she recollected the severe punishment she had once 
 suffered, because, when she was still quite little, and without 
 meaning any harm, she had taken her father's water clock to 
 pieces, and had spoiled it. 
 
 She felt that she was very superior to Hermas, and her posi- 
 tion was now too grave a one for her to feel inclined to play 
 any more. She thought indeed of Petrus and Dorothea, but 
 she could only reach them by going back to the oasis, and 
 then she feared to be discovered by Phoebicius. 
 
 If Polykarp now could only meet her on his way back from
 
 HOMO SUM. 121 
 
 Raithu; but the road she had just quitted did not lead from 
 thence, but to the gate-way that lay more to the southward. 
 
 The senator's son loved her of that she was sure, for no 
 one else had ever looked into her eyes with such deep delight 
 or such tender affection; and he was no inexperienced boy, but 
 a right earnest man, whose busy and useful life now appeared 
 to her in a quite different light to that in which she had seen 
 it formerly. How willingly now would she have allowed her- 
 self to be supported and guided by Polykarp! But how could 
 she reach him? No even from him there was nothing to be 
 expected; she must rely upon her own strength, and she de- 
 cided that so soon as the morning should blush, and the sun 
 begin to mount in the cloudless sky, she would keep herself 
 concealed during the day among the mountains, and then as 
 evening came on, she would go down to the sea, and endeavor 
 to get on board a vessel to Klysma and thence reach Alexan- 
 dria. She wore a ring with a finely cut onyx on her finger, 
 elegant ear-rings in her ears, and on her left arm a bracelet. 
 These jewels were of virgin gold, and besides these she had 
 with her a few silver coins and one large gold piece, that her 
 father had given her as token out of his small store, when she 
 had quitted him for Rome, and that she had hitherto pre- 
 served as carefully as if it were a talisman. 
 
 She pressed the token, which was sewed into a little bag, to 
 her lips, and thought of her paternal home, and her brothers 
 and sisters. 
 
 Meanwhile the sun mounted higher and higher; she wan- 
 dered from rock to rock in search of a shady spot and a spring 
 of water, but none was to be found, and she was tormented 
 with violent thirst and aching hunger. By midday the strips 
 of shade, too, had vanished, where she had found shelter from 
 the rays of the sun, which now beat down unmercifully on her 
 unprotected head. Her forehead and neck began to tingle 
 violently, and she fled before the burning beams like a soldier 
 before the shafts of his pursuer. Behind the rocks which 
 hemmed in the plateau on which Paulus met her, at* last, 
 when she was quite exhausted, she found a shady resting- 
 place. The greyhound lay panting in her lap, and held up 
 its broken paw, which she had carefully bound up in the 
 morning when she had first sat down to rest, with a strip of 
 stuff that she had torn with the help of her teeth from her 
 undergarment. She now bound it up afresh, and nursed the 
 little creature, caressing it like an infant. The dog was 
 wretched and suffering like herself, and besides it was the only 
 being that, in spite of her helplessness, she could cherish and
 
 122 HOMO SUM. 
 
 be dear to. But ere long she lost the power even to speak 
 caressing words or to stir a hand to stroke the dog. It slipped 
 off her lap and limped away, while she sat staring blankly De- 
 fore her, and at last forgot her sufferings in an uneasy slumber, 
 till she was roused by lambe's barking and the Alexandrian's 
 footstep. Almost half dead, her mouth parched and her brain 
 on fire, while her thoughts whirled in confusion, she believed 
 that Phoebicius had found her track, and was come to seize 
 her. She had already noted the deep precipice, to the edge of 
 which she now fled, fully resolved to fling herself over into the 
 depths below rather than to surrender herself prisoner. 
 
 Paul us had rescued her from the fall, but now as he came 
 up to her with two pieces of stone which were slightly hollowed, 
 so that he had been able to bring some fresh water in them, 
 and which he held level with great difficulty, walking with 
 the greatest care he thought that inexorable death had only 
 too soon returned to claim the victim he had snatched from 
 him, for Sirona's head hung down upon her breast, her face 
 was sunk toward her lap, and at the back of her head, where 
 her abundant hair parted into two flowing tresses, Paulus ob- 
 served on the snowy neck of the insensible woman a red spot 
 which the sun must have burned there. 
 
 His whole soul was full of compassion for the young, fair, 
 and unhappy creature, and, while he took hold of her chin, 
 which had sunk on her bosom, lifted her white face and moist- 
 ened her forehead and lips with water, he softly prayed for her 
 salvation. 
 
 The shallow cavity of the stones only offered room for a 
 very small quantity of the refreshing moisture, and so he was 
 obliged to return several times to the spring. While he was 
 away the dog remained by his mistress, and would now lick 
 her hand, now put his sharp little nose close up to her mouth, 
 and examine her with an anxious expression, as if to ascertain 
 her state of health. 
 
 When Paulus had gone the first time to fetch some water 
 for Sir*ona he had found the dog by the side of the spring; and 
 he could not help thinking, " The unreasoning brute has 
 found the water without a guide, while his mistress is dying 
 of thirst. Which is the wiser the man or the brute?" The 
 little dog on his part strove to merit the anchorite's good feel- 
 ings toward him, for, though at first he had barked at him, he 
 now was very friendly to him, and looked him in the face from 
 time to time, as though to ask, " Do you think she will re- 
 cover?" 
 
 Paulus was fond of animals, and understood the little dog's
 
 HOMO SUM. 123 
 
 language. When Sirona's lips began to move and to recover 
 their rosy color, he stroked lambe's smooth sharp head, and 
 said, as he held a leaf that he had curled up to hold some 
 water to Sirona's lips, " Look, little fellow, how she begins to 
 enjoy it! A little more of this, and again a little more. She 
 smacks her lips as if I were giving her sweet Falernian. I 
 will go and fill the stone again; you stop here with her, I shall 
 be back again directly, but before I return she will have opened 
 her eyes; you are pleasanter to look upon than a shaggy old 
 gray-beard, and she will be better pleased to see you than me 
 when she awakes. " Paul us 's prognosis was justified, for when 
 he returned to Sirona with a fresh supply of water she was 
 sitting upright, rubbed her open eyes, stretched her limbs, 
 clasped the greyhound in both arms, and burst into a violent 
 flood of tears. 
 
 The Alexandrian stood aside motionless, so as not to disturb 
 her, thinking to himself: 
 
 " These tears will wash away a large part of her suffering 
 from her soul. " 
 
 When at last she was calmer, and began to dry her eyes, he 
 went up to her, offered her the stone cup of water, and spoke 
 to her kindly. She drank with eager satisfaction, and eat the 
 lust bit of bread that he could find in the pocket of his gar- 
 ment, soaking it in the water. She thanked him with the 
 child-like sweetness that was peculiar to her, and then tried to 
 rise, and willingly allowed him to support her. She was still 
 very weary, and her head ached, but she could stand and walk. 
 
 As soon as Paulus had satisfied himself that she had no 
 symptoms of fever he said, " Now, for to-day, you want noth- 
 ing more but a warm mess of food, and a bed sheltered from 
 the night chill; I will provide both. You sit down here; the 
 rocks are already throwing long shadows, and before the sun 
 disappears behind the mountain I will return. While I am 
 away your four-footed companion here will while away the 
 time. 
 
 He hastened down to the spring with quick steps; close to 
 it was the abandoned cave which he had counted on inhabiting 
 instead of his former dwelling. He found it after a short 
 search, and in it, to his great joy, a well-preserved bed of 
 dried plants, which he soon shook up and relaid, a hearth, and 
 wood proper for producing fire by friction, a water- jar, and in 
 a cellar-like hole, whose opening was covered with stones and 
 so concealed from any but a practiced eye, there were several 
 cakes of hard bread, and one or two pots. In one of these
 
 124 HOMO SUM. 
 
 were some good dates, in another gleamed some white meal,, a 
 third was half full of sesame oil, and a fourth held some salt. 
 
 " How lucky it is," muttered the anchorite, as he quitted 
 the cave, " that the old anchorite was such a glutton." 
 
 By the time he returned to Sirona the sun was going down. 
 
 There was something in the nature and demeanor of Paulus 
 which made all distrust of him impossible, and Sirona was 
 ready to follow him, but she felt so weak that she could scarce- 
 ly support herself on her feet. 
 
 " I feel," she said, "as if I were a little child, and must 
 begin again to learn to walk." 
 
 Then let me be your nurse. I knew a Spartan dame once 
 who had a beard almost as rough as mine. Lean confidently 
 on me, and before we go down the slope we will go up and 
 down the level here two or three times. " She took his arm, 
 and he led her slowly up and down. 
 
 It vividly recalled a picture of the days of his youth, and he 
 remembered a day when his sister, who was recovering from a 
 severe attack of fever, was first allowed to go out into the open 
 air. She had gone out, clinging to his arm into the peristyle 
 of his father's house; as he walked backward and forward with 
 poor, weary, abandoned Sirona, his neglected figure seemed by 
 degrees to assume the noble aspect of a high-born Greek, and 
 instead of the rough, rocky soil, he felt as if he were treading 
 the beautiful mosaic pavement of his father's court. Paulus 
 was Menander again, and if there was little in the presence of 
 the recluse which could recall his identity with the old man he 
 had trodden down, the despised anchorite felt, while the ex- 
 pelled and sinful woman leaned on his arm, the same proud 
 sense of succoring a woman as when he was the most dis- 
 tinguished youth of a metropolis, and when he had led forward 
 the master's much courted daughter in the midst of a shouting 
 troop of slaves. 
 
 Sirona had to remind Paulas that night was coming on, and 
 was startled, when the hermit removed her hand from his arm 
 with ungentle haste, and called to her to follow him with a 
 roughness that was quite new to him. She obeyed, and where- 
 ever it was necessary to climb over the rocks, he supported 
 and lifted her, but he only spoke when she addressed him. 
 
 When they had reached their destination he showed her the 
 bed, and begged her to keep awake till he should have pre- 
 pared a dish of warm food for her, and he shortly brought her 
 a simple supper, and wished her a good night's rest, after she 
 had taken it. 
 
 Sirona shared the bread and the salted meal-porridge with her
 
 HOMO SUM. 125 
 
 dog, and then lay down on the couch, where she sunk at once 
 into a deep, dreamless sleep, while Paulus passed the night 
 sitting by the hearth. 
 
 He strove to banish sleep by constant prayer, but fatigue 
 frequently overcame him, and he could not help thinking of 
 the Gaulish lady, and of the many things which, if only he 
 were still the rich Menander, he would procure in Alexandria 
 for her and for her comfort. Not one prayer could he bring 
 to its due conclusion, for either Ms eyes closed before he came 
 to the " Amen,," or else worldly images crowded round him, 
 and forced him to begin his devotions again from the begin- 
 ning, when he had succeeded in recollecting himself. In this 
 half -somnolent state he obtained not one moment of inward 
 collectedness, of quiet reflection; not even when he gazed up 
 at the starry heavens, or looked down on the oasis, veiled in 
 night, where many others like himself were deserted by sleep. 
 Which of the citizens could it be that was watching by that 
 light which he saw glimmering down there in unwonted bright- 
 ness till he liimself, overpowered by fatigue, fell asleep? 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE light in the town which had attracted Paulus was in 
 Petrus's house, and burned in Polykarp's room, which formed 
 the whole of a small upper story/ which the senator had con- 
 structed for his son over the northern portion of the spacious 
 flat roof of the main building. 
 
 The young man had arrived about noon with the slaves he 
 had just procured, had learned all that had happened in his 
 absence, and had silently withdrawn into his own room after 
 supper was ended. Here he still lingered over his work. 
 
 A bed, a table, on and under which lay a multitude of wax- 
 tablets, papyrus-rolls, metal-points, and writing-reeds, with a 
 small bench, on which stood a water-jar and basin, composed 
 the furniture of this room; on its white-washed walls hung 
 several admirable carvings in relief, and figures of men and 
 animals stood near ' them in long rows. In one corner, near a 
 stone water- jar, lay a large, damp-shining mass of clay. 
 
 Three lamps fastened to stands abundantly lighted this 
 work-room, but chiefly a figure standing on a high trestle, 
 which Polykarp's fingers were industriously molding. 
 
 Phcebicius had called the young sculptor a fop, and not alto- 
 gether unjustly, for he loved to be well dressed, and was choice 
 as to the cut and color of his simple garments, and he rarely 
 neglected to arrange his abundant hair with care, and to
 
 126 HOMO SUM. 
 
 anoint it well; and yet he was almost indifferent as to 
 whether his appearance pleased other people or not, but he 
 knew nothing nobler than the human form,, and an instinct, 
 which he did not attempt to check, impelled him to keep his 
 own person as nice as he liked to see that of his neighbor. 
 
 Now, at this hour of the night, he wore only a shirt of white 
 woolen stuff, with a deep red border. His locks, usually so 
 well-kept, seemed to stand out from his head separately, and 
 instead of smoothing and confining them, he added to their 
 wild disorder, for, as he worked, he frequently passed his hand 
 through them with a hasty movement. A bat, attracted by 
 the bright light, flew in at the open window which was 
 screened only at the bottom by a dark curtain and fluttered 
 round the ceiling; but he did not -Observe it, for his work ab- 
 sorbed his whole soul and mind. In this eager and passionate 
 occupation, in which every nerve and vein in his being seemed 
 to bear a part, no cry for help would have struck his ear 
 even a flame breaking out close to him would not have caught 
 his eye. His cheeks glowed, a fine dew of glistening sweat 
 covered his brow, and his very gaze seemed to become more 
 and more firmly riveted to the sculpture as it took form under 
 his hand, Now and again he stepped back from it, and leaned 
 backward from his hips, raising his hands to the level of his 
 temples, as if to narrow the field of vision; then he went up 
 to the model, and clutched the plastic mass of clay, as though 
 it were the flesh of his enemy. 
 
 He was now at work on the flowing hair of the figure before 
 him, which had already taken the outline of a female head, 
 and he flung the bits of clay, which he removed from the back 
 of it on to the ground, as violently as though he were casting 
 them at an antagonist at his feet. Again his finger-tips and 
 modeling tool were busy with the mouth, nose, cheeks, and 
 eyes, and his own eyes took a softer expression, which gradual- 
 ly grew to be a gaze of ecstatic delight, as the features he was 
 molding began to agree more and more with the image, which 
 at this time excluded every other from his imagination. 
 
 At last, with glowing cheeks, he had finished rounding the 
 soft form of the shoulders, and drew back once more to con- 
 template the effect of the completed work; a cold shiver seized 
 him, and he felt himself impelled to lift it up, and dash it to 
 the ground with all his force. But he soon had mastered this 
 stormy excitement, he pushed his hand through his hair again 
 and again, and posted himself, with a melancholy smile and 
 with folded hands, in front of his creation; sunk deeper and 
 deeper in Ms contemplation of it, he did not observe that the
 
 HOMO SUM. 127 
 
 door behind him was opened, although the flame of his lamps 
 flickered in the draught, and that his mother had entered the 
 work-room, and by no means endeavored to approach him un- 
 heard, or to surprise him. In her anxiety for her darling, 
 who had gone through so many bitter experiences during the 
 past day, she had not been able to sleep. Polykarp's room 
 lay above her bedroom, and when his steps overhead betrayed 
 that, though it was now near morning, he had not yet gone to 
 rest, she had risen from her bed without waking Petrus, who 
 seemed to be sleeping. She obeyed her motherly impulse to 
 encourage Polykarp with some loving words, and climbing up 
 the narrow stair that led to the roof, she went into his room. 
 Surprised, irresolute and speechless, she stood for some time 
 behind the young man, and looked at the strongly illuminated 
 and beautiful features of the newly formed bust, which was 
 only too like its well-known prototype. At last she laid her 
 hand on her son's shoulder and spoke his name. 
 
 Polykarp stepped back., and looked at his mother in be- 
 wilderment, like a man roused from sleep; but she interrupted 
 the stammering speech with which he tried to greet her, by 
 saying, gravely and not without severity, as she pointed to the 
 statue : 
 
 " What does this mean?" 
 
 '' What should it mean, mother?" answered Polykarp, in a 
 low tone, and shading his head sadly. " Ask me no more at 
 present, for if you gave me no rest, and even if I tried to ex- 
 plain to you how to-day this very day I have felt impelled 
 and driven to make this woman's image, still you could not 
 understand me no, nor any one else." 
 
 " God forbid that I should ever understand it!" cried 
 Dorothea. " ' Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife/ was 
 the commandment of the Lord on the mountain. And you? 
 You think I could not understand you? Who should under- 
 stand you, then, if not your mother? This I certainly do not 
 comprehend, that a son of Petrus and of mine should have 
 thrown all the teaching and the example of his parents so 
 utterly to the wind. But what you are aiming at with this 
 statue it seems to me is not hard to guess. As the forbidden 
 fruit hangs too high for you, you degrade your art, and make 
 to yourself an image that resembles her according to your 
 taste. Simply and plainly it comes to this : as you can no 
 longer see the Gaul's wife in her own person, and yet can not 
 exist without the sweet presence of the fair one, you make a 
 portrait of clay to make love to, and you will carry on idolatry
 
 128 HOMO SUM. 
 
 before it, as once the Jews did before the golden calf and the 
 brazen serpent. " 
 
 Polykarp submitted to his mother's angry blame in silence, 
 but in painful emotion. Dorothea had never before spoken to 
 him thus, and to hear such words from the very lips which 
 were used to address him with such heartfelt tenderness gave 
 him unspeakable pain. Hitherto she had always been inclined 
 to make excuses for his weaknesses and little faults; nay, the 
 zeal with which she had observed and pointed out his merits 
 and performances before strangers as well as before their own 
 family, had often seemed to him embarrassing. And now? 
 She had indeed reason to blame him, for Sirona was the wife 
 of another; she had never even noticed his admiration, and 
 now, they all said, had committed a crime for the sake of a 
 stranger. It must seem both a mad and a sinful thing in the 
 eyes of men that he of all others should sacrifice the best he 
 had his art and how little could Dorothea, who usually en- 
 deavored to understand him, comprehend the overpowering 
 impulse which had driven him to this task. 
 
 He loved and honored his mother with his whole heart, and 
 feeling that she was doing herself an injustice by her false and 
 low estimate of his proceedings, he interrupted her eager dis- 
 course, raising his hands imploringly to her. 
 
 " No, mother, no!" he exclaimed. " As truly as God is my 
 helper, it is not so. It is true that I have molded this head, 
 but not to keep it and to commit the sin of worshiping it, 
 but rather to free myself from the image that stands before 
 my mind's eye by day and by night, in the city and in the 
 desert, whose beauty distracts my mind when I think, and my 
 devotions when I try to pray. To whom is it given to read 
 the soul of man? And is not Sirona '& form and face the love- 
 liest image of the Most High? So to represent it, that the 
 whole charm that her presence exercises over me might also be 
 felt by every beholder is a task that I have set myself ever 
 since her arrival in our house. I had to go back to the capital, 
 and the work I longed to achieve took a clearer form; at every 
 hour I discovered something to change and to improve in the 
 pose of the head, the glance of the eye or the expression of the 
 mouth. But still I lacked courage to put the work in hand, 
 for it seemed too audacious to attempt to give reality to the 
 glorious image in my soul, by the aid of gray clay and pale 
 cold marble; to reproduce it so that the perfect work should 
 delight the eye of sense, no less than the image enshrined in 
 my breast delights my inward eye. At the same time I was 
 not idle, I gained the prize for the model of the lions, and if
 
 HOMO SUM. 129 
 
 I have succeeded with the Good Shepherd blessing the flock, 
 which is for the sarcophagus of Comes, and if the master could 
 praise the expression of devoted tenderness in the look of the 
 Redeemer, I know nay, do not interrupt me, mother, for 
 what I felt was a pure emotion and no sin I know that it was 
 because I was myself so full of love that I was enabled to in- 
 spire the very stone with love. At last I had no peace, and 
 even without my father's orders I must have returned home; 
 then I saw her again, and found her even more lovely than the 
 image which reigned in her soul. I heard her voice, and her 
 silvery bell-like laughter and then and then You know 
 very well what I learned yesterday. The unworthy wife of an 
 unworthy husband, the woman Sirona is gone from me for- 
 ever, and I was striving to drive her image from my soul, to 
 annihilate it and dissipate it but in vain! and by degrees a 
 wonderful stress of creative power came upon me. I hastily 
 placed the lamps, took the clay in my hand, and feature by 
 feature I brought forth with bitter joy the image that is deeply 
 graven in my heart, believing that thus I might be released 
 from the spell. There is the fruit which was ripened in my 
 heart, but there, where it so long has dwelt, I feel a dismal 
 void, and if the husk which so long tenderly infolded this 
 image were to wither and fall asunder, I should not wonder at 
 it. To that thing there clings the best part of my life. " 
 
 " Enough!" exclaimed Dorothea, interrupting her son, who 
 stood before her in great agitation and with trembling lips. 
 " God forbid that that mask there should destroy your life and 
 soul. I suffer nothing impure within my house, and you 
 should not in your heart. That which is evil can never more 
 be fair, and however lovely the face there may look to you, it 
 looks quite as repulsive to me when I reflect that it probably 
 smiled still more fascinatingly on some strolling beggar. If 
 the Gaul brings her back I will turn her out of my house, and 
 I will destroy her image with my own hands if you do not 
 break it in pieces on the spot." 
 
 Dorothea's eyes were swimming in tears as she spoke these 
 words. She had felt with pride and emotion during her son's 
 speech how noble and high-minded he was, and the idea that 
 this rare and precious treasure should be spoiled or perhaps 
 altogether ruined for the sake of a lost woman, drove her to 
 desperation, and filled her motherly heart with indignation. 
 
 Firmly resolved to carry out her threat, she stepped toward 
 the figure, but Polykarp placed himself in her way, raising his 
 arm imploringly to defend it, and saying, " Not to-day not 
 yet, mother! I will cover it up, and will not look at it again 
 
 5
 
 130 HOMO SUM. 
 
 till to-morrow, but once only once I must see it again by 
 sunlight/' 
 
 " So that to-morrow the old madness may revive you!" cried 
 Dorothea. " Move out of my way or take the hammer your- 
 self." 
 
 " You order it, and you are my mother/' said Polykarp. 
 
 He slowly went up to the chest in which his tools and instru- 
 ments lay, and bitter tears ran down his cheeks as he took his 
 heaviest hammer in his hand. 
 
 When the sky has shone for many days in summer-blue, 
 and then suddenly the clouds gather for a storm, when the 
 first silent but fearful flash, with its noisy but harmless asso- 
 ciate, the thunder-clap, has terrified the world, a second and 
 third thunder-bolt immediately follow. Since the stormy night 
 of yesterday had broken in on the peaceful, industrious and 
 monotonous life by the senator's hearth, many things had hap- 
 pened that had filled him and his wife with fresh anxiety. 
 
 In other houses it was nothing remarkable that a slave 
 should run away, but in the senator's it was more than twenty 
 years since such a thing had occurred, and yesterday the goat- 
 herd Miriam had disappeared. This was vexatious, but the 
 silent sorrow of his son Polykarp was a greater anxiety to 
 Petrus. It did not please him that the youth, who was usual- 
 ly so vehement, should submit unresistingly and almost in- 
 differently to the Bishop Agapitus, who prohibited his com- 
 pleting his lions. His son's sad gaze, his crushed and broken 
 aspect were still in his mind when at last he went to rest for 
 the night; it was already late, but sleep avoided him even as 
 it had avoided Dorothea. While the mother was thinking of 
 her son's sinful love and the bleeding wound in his young 
 and betrayed heart, the father grieved for Polykarp' s baffled 
 hopes of exercising his heart on a great work, and recalled the 
 saddest, bitterest day of his own youth; for he, too, had served 
 his apprenticeship under a sculptor in Alexandria, had looked 
 up to the works of the heathen as noble models, and striven to 
 form himself upon them. He had already been permitted by 
 his master to execute designs of his own, and out of the 
 abundance of subjects which offered themselves he had chosen 
 to model an Ariadne, waiting and longing for the return of 
 Theseus, as a symbolic image of his own sou] awaiting its sal- 
 vation. How this work had filled his mind! how delightful 
 had the hours of labor seemed to him! when, suddenly, his 
 stern father had come to the city, had seen his work before ifc 
 was quite finished, and instead of praising it had scorned it;
 
 HOMO SUM. 131 
 
 had abused it as a heathen idol, and had commanded Petrus to 
 return home with him immediately and to remain there, for 
 that his son should be a pious Christian, and a good stone- 
 mason withal not half a heathen, and a maker of false gods. 
 
 Petrus had much loved his art, but he offered no resistance 
 to his father's orders; he followed him back to the oasis, there 
 to superintend the work of the slaves who hewed the stone, to 
 measure the granite blocks for sarcophagi and pillars, and to 
 direct the cutting of them. 
 
 His father was a man of steel, and he himself a lad of iron, 
 and when he saw himself compelled to yield to his father and 
 to leave his master's workshop, to abandon his cherished and 
 unfinished work and to become an artisan and a man of busi- 
 ness, he swore never again to take a piece of clay in his hand, 
 or to wield a chisel. And he kept his word even after his 
 father's death; but his creative instincts and love of art con- 
 tinued to live and work in him, and were transmitted to his 
 two sons. 
 
 Autonius was a highly gifted artist, and if Polykarp's master 
 was not mistaken, and if he himself were not misled by father- 
 ly affection, his second son was on the high-road to the very 
 first rank in art to a position reached only by elect spirits. 
 
 Petrus knew the models for the Good Shepherd and for the 
 lions, and declared to himself that these last were unsurpassa- 
 ble in truth, power, and majesty. How eagerly must the 
 young artist long to execute them in hard stone, and to see 
 them placed in the honored though indeed pagan spot which 
 was intended for them. And now the bishop forbade him to 
 work, and the poor fellow might well be feeling just as he 
 himself had felt thirty years ago, when he had been com- 
 manded to abandon the immature first-fruits of his labor. 
 
 AVus the bishop indeed right? This and many other ques- 
 tions agitated the sleepless father, and as soon as he heard that 
 his wife had risen from her bed to go to her sou, whose foot- 
 steps he, too, could hear overhead, he got up and followed her. 
 
 He found the door of the work-room open, and, himself un- 
 seen and unheard, he was witness to his wife's vehement 
 speech, and to the lad's justification, while Polykarp's work 
 stood in the full light of the lamps, exactly in front of him. 
 
 His gaze was spell-bound to the mass of clay; he looked and 
 looked, and was not weary of looking, and his soul swelled 
 with the same awe-struck sense of devout admiration that it 
 had experienced when, for the first time in his early youth, 
 he saw with his own eyes the works of the great old Athenian 
 masters in Caesareum.
 
 132 HOMO SUM. 
 
 And this head was his son's work! 
 
 He stood there greatly overcome, his hands clasped together, 
 holding his breath till his mouth was dry,, and swallowing his 
 tears to keep them from falling. At the same time he listened 
 with anxious attention, so as not to lose one word of Poly- 
 karp 's. 
 
 Ay, thus and thus only are great works of art begotten," 
 said he to himself, " and if the Lord had bestowed on me such 
 gifts as on this lad, no father, nay, no god, should have com- 
 pelled me to leave my Ariadne unfinished. The attitude of 
 the body is not bad, I should say but the head, the face 
 ay, the man who can mold such a likeness as that has his 
 hand and eye guided by the holy spirits of art. He who has 
 done that head will be praised in the latter days together with 
 the great Athenian masters and he, yes, he, merciful Heaven ! 
 he is my own beloved son!" 
 
 A blessed sense of rejoicing, such as he had not felt since his 
 early youth, filled his heart, and Dorothea's ardor seemed to 
 him half pitiful and half amusing. 
 
 It was not till his duteous son took the hammer in his hand 
 that he stepped between his wife and the bust, saying, kindly: 
 
 " There will be time enough to-morrow to destroy the work. 
 Forget the model, my son, now that you have taken advantage 
 of it so successfully. I know of a better mistress for you 
 Art to whom belongs everything of beauty that the Most High 
 has created Art in all its breadth and fullness, not fettered 
 and narrowed by any Agapitus." 
 
 Polykarp flung himself into his father's arms, and the stern 
 man, hardly master of his emotions, kissed the boy's forehead, 
 his eyes, and his cheeks. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AT noon of the following day the senator went to the 
 women's room, and while he was still on the threshold he 
 asked his wife who was busy at the loom 
 
 " Where is Polykarp? I did not find him with Antonius, 
 who is working at the placing of the altar, and I thought I 
 might find him here. " 
 
 " After going to the church," said Dorothea, " he went up 
 the mountain. Go down to the workshops, Marthana, and see 
 if your brother is come back." 
 
 Her daughter obeyed quickly and gladly, for her brother 
 was to her the dearest, and seemed to her to be the best of 
 men. As soon as the pair were alone together Petrus said,
 
 HOMO SUM. 133 
 
 while he held out his hand to his wife with genial affection, 
 "Well, mother shake hands." Dorothea paused for an in- 
 stant, looking him in the face, as if to ask him, " Does your 
 pride at last allow you to cease doing me an injustice?" It 
 was a reproach, but in truth not a severe one, or her lips 
 would hardly have trembled so tenderly, as she said: 
 
 " You can not be angry with me any longer, and it is well 
 that all should once more be as it ought." 
 
 All certainly had not been " as it ought, " for since the husband 
 and wife had met in Polykarp's work-room they had behaved 
 to each other as if they were strangers. In their bedroom, on 
 the way to church, and at breakfast, they had spoken to each 
 no more than was absolutely necessary, or than was requisite 
 in order to conceal their difference from the servants and chil- 
 dren. Up to this time an understanding had always, subsisted 
 between them that had never taken form in words, and yet 
 that had scarcely in a single case been infringed, that neither 
 should ever praise one of their children for anything that the 
 other thought blameworthy, and vice versa. 
 
 But on this night her husband had followed up her severest 
 condemnation by passionately embracing the wrong-doer. 
 Never had she been so stern in any circumstances, while on 
 the other hand her husband, so long as she could remember, 
 had never been so soft-hearte4 and tender to his son, and yet 
 she had controlled herself so far as not to contradict Petrus in 
 Polykarp's presence, and to leave the work-room in silence with 
 her husband. 
 
 " When we are once alone together in the bedroom/' 
 thought she, " I will represent to him his error as I ought, 
 and he will have to answer for himself." 
 
 But she did not carry out this purpose, for she felt that 
 something must be passing in her husband's mind that she 
 did not understand; otherwise how could his grave eyes shine 
 so mildly and kindly, and his stern lips smile so affectionately 
 after all that had occurred when he, lamp in hand, had 
 mounted the narrow stair. He had often told her that she 
 could read his soul like an open book, but she did not conceal 
 from herself that there were certain sides of that complex 
 structure whose meaning she was incapable of comprehending. 
 And, strange to say, she ever and again came upon these in- 
 comprehensible phases of his soul, when the images of the 
 gods, and the idolatrous temples of the heathen, or when their 
 sons' enterprises and work were the matters in hand. And 
 yet Petrus was the son of a pious Christian; but his grand- 
 father had been a Greek heathen, and hence perhaps a certain
 
 134 HOMO SUM. 
 
 something wrought in his blood which tormented her, because 
 she could not reconcile it with Agapitus's doctrine, but which 
 she nevertheless dared not attempt to oppose because her taci- 
 turn husband never spoke out with so much cheerfulness and 
 frankness as when he might talk of these things with his sons 
 and their friends, who often accompanied them to the oasis. 
 Certainly it could be nothing sinful that at this particular 
 moment seemed to light up her husband's face and restore his 
 youth. 
 
 " They just are men," said she to herself, "and in many 
 things they have the advantage of us women. The old man 
 looks as he did on his wedding-day! Polykarp is the very 
 image of him, as every one says, and now, looking at the 
 father, and recalling to my mind how the boy looked when he 
 told me how he could not refrain from making Sirona's por- 
 trait, I must say that I never saw such a likeness in the whole 
 course of my life." 
 
 He bid her a friendly good-night and extinguished the lamp. 
 She would willingly have said a loving word to him, for his 
 contented expression touched and comforted her, but that 
 would just then have been too much after what she had gone 
 through in her son's work-room. In former years it had hap- 
 pened pretty often that, when one of them had caused dis- 
 satisfaction to the other, and there had been some quarrel 
 between them, they had gone to rest unreconciled, but the 
 older they grew the more rarely did this occur, and it was now 
 a long time since any shadow had fallen on the perfect serenity 
 of their married life. 
 
 Three years ago, on the occasion of the marriage of their 
 eldest son, they had been standing together, looking up at 'the 
 starry sky, when Petrus had come close up to her, and had 
 said : 
 
 " How calmly and peacefully the wanderers up there follow 
 their roads without jostling or touching one another! As I 
 walked home alone from the quarries by their friendly light, I 
 thought of many things. Perhaps there was once a time when 
 the stars rushed wildly about in confusion, crossing each 
 other's path, while many a star flew in pieces at the impact. 
 Then the Lord created man, and love came into the world, 
 and filled the heavens and the earth, and He commanded the 
 stars to be our light by night; then each began to respect the 
 path of the other, and the stars more rarely came into collision 
 till even the smallest and swiftest kept to its own path and its 
 own period, and the shining host above grew to be as harmoni- 
 ous as it is numberless. Love and a common purpose worked
 
 HOMO SUM. 135 
 
 this marvel, for he who loves another will do him no injury, 
 and he who is bound to perfect a work with the help of an- 
 other will not hinder nor delay him. We two have long since 
 found the right road, and if at any time one of us is inclined 
 to cross the path of the other we are held back by love and by 
 our common duty, namely, to shed a pure light on the path of 
 our children.'*' 
 
 Dorothea had never forgotten these words, and they came 
 into her mind now again when Petrus held out his hand to her 
 so warmly; as she laid hers in it she said: 
 
 " For the sake of dear peace, well and good but one thing 
 I can not leave unsaid. Soft-hearted weakness is not usually 
 your defect, but you will utterly spoil Polykarp. " 
 
 " Leave him, let us leave him as he is," cried Petrus, kiss- 
 ing his wife's brow. "It is strange how we have exchanged 
 parts! Yesterday you were exhorting me to mildness toward 
 the lad, and to-day " 
 
 " To-day I am severer than you," interrupted Dorothea. 
 " Who, indeed, could guess that an old gray-beard would 
 derogate from the duties of his office as father and as judge 
 for the sake of a woman's smiling face in clay as Esau sold 
 his birth-right for a mess of pottage?" 
 
 " And to whom would it occur," asked Petrus, taking up 
 his wife's tone, " that so tender a mother as you would con- 
 demn her favorite son, because he labored to earn peace for his 
 soul by a deed by a work for which his master might envy 
 him?" 
 
 " I have indeed observed/' interrupted Dorothea, " that 
 Sirona's image has bewitched you, and you speak as if the 
 boy had achieved some great miracle. I do not know much 
 about modeling and sculpture, and I will not contradict you, 
 but if the fair-haired creature's face were less pretty, and if 
 Polykarp had not executed anything remarkable, would it 
 have made the smallest difference in what he has done and felt 
 wrong? Certainly not. But that is just like men; they only 
 care for success." 
 
 " And with perfect justice," answered Petrus, " if the suc- 
 cess is attained, not in mere child's play, but by a severe 
 struggle. ' To him that hath shall more be given,' says the 
 scripture, and he who has a soul more richly graced than others 
 have he who is helped by good spirits hie shall be forgiven 
 many things that even a mild judge would be unwilling to 
 pardon in a man of poor gifts, who torments and exerts him- 
 self and yet brings nothing to perfection. Be kind to the boy 
 again. Do you know what prospect lies before you through
 
 136 HOMO SOI. 
 
 him? You yourself in your life have done much good and 
 spoken much wisdom, and I, and the children, and the people 
 in this place, will never forget it all. But I can promise you 
 the gratitude of the best and noblest who now live or who will 
 live in centuries to come for that you are the mother of 
 Polykarp!" 
 
 " And people say," cried Dorothea, " that every mother 
 has four eyes for her children's merits. If that is true, then 
 fathers no doubt have ten, and you as many as Argus, of 
 whom the heathen legends speaks But here comes Poly- 
 karp." 
 
 Petrus went forward to meet his son, and gave him his hand, 
 but in quite a different manner to what he had formerly shown; 
 at least it seemed to Dorothea that her husband received the 
 youth, no longer as his father and master, but as a friend 
 greets a friend who is his equal in privileges and judgment. 
 When Ploykarp turned to greet her also she colored all over, 
 for the thought flashed through her mind that her son, when 
 he thought of the past night, must regard her as unjust or 
 foolish; but she soon recovered her own calm equanimity, for 
 Polykarp was the same as ever, and she read in his eyes that 
 he felt toward her the same as yesterday and as ever. 
 
 " Love," thought she, " is not extinguished by injustice, as 
 fire is by water. It blazes up brighter or less bright, no doubt, 
 according to the way the wind blows, but it can not be wholly 
 smothered least of all by death." 
 
 Polykarp had been up the mountain, and Dorothea was 
 quite satisfied when he related what had led him thither. He 
 had long since planned the execution of a statue of Moses, and 
 when his father had left him he could not get the tall and 
 dignified figure of the old man out of his mind. He felt that 
 he had found the right model for his work. He must, he 
 would forget and he knew that he could only succeed if he 
 found a task which might promise to give some new occupa- 
 tion to his bereaved soul. Still, he had seen the form of the 
 mighty man of God which he proposed to model only in vague 
 outline before his mind's eye, and he had been prompted to go 
 to a spot whither many pilgrims resorted, and which was 
 known as the Place of Communion, because it was there that 
 the Lord had spoken to Moses. There Polykarp had spent 
 some time, for there, if anywhere there, where the Law-giver 
 himself had stood, must he find right inspiration. 
 
 " And you have accomplished your end?" asked his father. 
 
 Polykarp shook his head. 
 
 " If you go often enough to the sacred spot it will come to
 
 HOMO SUM. 137 
 
 you/' said Dorothea. " The beginning is always the chief 
 difficulty; only begin at once to model your father's head." 
 
 " I have already begun it," replied Polykarp, " but I am 
 still tired from last night. " 
 
 " You look pale and have dark lines under your eyes/' said 
 Dorothea, anxiously. " Go upstairs and lie down to rest. I 
 will follow you and bring you a beaker of old wine. " 
 
 " That will not hurt him," said Petrus, thinking as he 
 spoke " A draught of Lethe would serve him even better." 
 
 When, an hour later, the senator sought his son in his work- 
 room, he found him sleeping, and the wine stood untouched 
 on the table, Petrus softly laid his hand on his son's forehead 
 and found it cool and free from fever. Then he went quietly 
 up to the portrait of Sirona, raised the cloth with which it was 
 covered, and stood before it a long time sunk in thought. At 
 last he drew back, covered it up again, and examined the 
 models which stood on a shelf fastened to the wall. 
 
 A small female figure particularly fixed his attention, and he 
 was taking it admiringly in his hand when Polykarp awoke. 
 
 " That is the image of the Goddess of Fate that is a Tyche/' 
 said Petrus. 
 
 " Do not be angry with me, father," entreated Polykarp. 
 " You know, the figure of a Tyche is to stand in the hand of 
 the statue of the Caesar that is intended for the new city of 
 Constantine, and so I have, tried to represent the goddess. 
 The drapery and pose of the arms, I think, are a success, 
 but I failed in the head. " 
 
 Petrus, who had listened to him with attention, glanced in- 
 voluntarily at the head of Sirona, and Polykarp followed his 
 eyes, surprised and almost startled. 
 
 The father and son had understood each other, and Polykarp 
 said : 
 
 " I had already thought of that." 
 
 Then he sighed bitterly, and said to himself : 
 
 " Yes and verily, she is the goddess of my fate." But he 
 dared not utter this aloud. 
 
 But Petrus had heard him sigh, and said, " Let that pass. 
 This head smiles with sweet fascination, and the countenance 
 of the goddess that rules the actions of the immortals should 
 be stern and grave." 
 
 Polykarp could contain himself no longer. 
 
 " Yes, father," he exclaimed; " Fate is terrible and yet 
 I will represent the goddess with a smiling mouth, for that 
 which is most terrible in her is, that she rules not by stern 
 laws, but smiles while she makes us her sport."
 
 138 HOMO SUM. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IT was a splendid morning; not a cloud dimmed the sky 
 which spread high above the desert, mountain, and oasis, like 
 an arched tent of uniform deep-blue silk. How delicious it is 
 to breathe the pure, light, aromatic air on the heights before 
 the rays of the sun acquire their midday power, and the shad- 
 ows of the heated porphyry cliffs, growing shorter and shorter, 
 at last wholly disappear. 
 
 With what delight did Sirona inhale this pure atmosphere, 
 when after a long night the fourth that she had passed in the 
 anchorite's dismal cave she stepped o.ut into the air. Paul us 
 sat by the hearth, and was so busily engaged with some carv- 
 ing that he did not observe her approach. 
 
 "Kind, good man!" thought Sirona, as she perceived a 
 steaming pot on the fire, and the palm branches which the 
 Alexandrian had fastened up by the entrance to the cave, to 
 screen her from the mountain sun. She knew the way with- 
 out a guide to the spring from which Paulus had brought her 
 water at their first meeting, and she now slipped away, and 
 went down to it with a pretty little pitcher of burned clay in 
 her hand. Paulus did indeed see her, but he pretended that 
 he neither saw nor heard, for he knew she was going there to 
 wash herself, and to dress and smarten herself as well as might 
 be for was she not a woman! When she returned she looked 
 not less fresh and charming than on that morning when she 
 had been seen and watched by Hermas. True, her heart was 
 sore; true, she was perplexed and miserable, but sleep and rest 
 had long since effaced from her healthy, youthful and elastic 
 frame all traces left by that fearful day of flight; and fate, 
 which often means best by us when it shows us a hostile face, 
 had sent her a minor anxiety to divert her from her graver 
 cares. 
 
 Her greyhound was very ill, and it seemed that in the ill- 
 treatment it had experienced, not only its leg had been broken, 
 but that it had suffered some internal injury. The brisk, lively 
 little creature fell down powerless whenever it tried to stand, 
 and when she took it up to nurse it comfortably in her lap, it 
 whined pitif ullyj and looked up at her sorrowfully, and as if 
 complaining to her. It would take neither food nor drink; its 
 little nose was hot; and when she left the cave lambe lay 
 panting on the fine woolen coverlet which Paulus had spread 
 upon the bed, unable even to look after her.
 
 HOMO SUM, 139 
 
 Before taking the dog the water she had fetched in the 
 graceful jar which was another gift from her hospitable 
 friend she went up to Paulus and greeted him kindly. He 
 looked up from his work, thanked her, and a few minutes 
 later, when she came out of the cave again, asked her, " How 
 is the poor little creature?" 
 
 Sirona shrugged her shoulders, and said, sadly, " She has 
 drunk nothing, and does not even know me, and pants as 
 rapidly as last evening. If I were to lose the poor little beast 
 
 She could say no more for emotion, but Paulus shook his 
 head. 
 
 " It is sinful," he said, " to grieve so for a beast devoid of 
 reason/' 
 
 " lambe is not devoid of reason/' replied Sirona. " And 
 even if she were, what have I left if she dies? She grew up in 
 my father's house, where all loved me; I had her first when 
 she was only a few days old, and I brought her up on milk on 
 a little bit of sponge. Many a time when I heard the little 
 thing whining for food, have I got out of bed at night with 
 bare feet; and so she came to cling to me like a child, and 
 could not do without me. No one can know how another feels 
 about such things. My father used to tell us of a spider that 
 beautified the life of a prison, and what is a dirty dumb creat- 
 ure like that to my clever, graceful little dog! I have lost my 
 home, and here every one Jbelieves the worst of me, although 
 I have done no one any harm, and no one no one loves me 
 but lambe. " 
 
 " But I know of one who loves every one with a divine and 
 equal love/' interrupted Paulus. 
 
 " I do not care for such a one/' answered Sirona. " lambe 
 follows no one but me; what good can a love do me that I 
 must share with all the world! But you mean the crucified 
 God of the Christians? He is good and pitiful, so says Dame 
 Dorothea; but He is dead I can not see Him, nor hear Him, 
 and, certainly, I can f not long for one who only shows me 
 grace. I want one to whom I can count for something, and 
 to whose life and happiness I am indispensable. " 
 
 A scarcely perceptible shudder thrilled through the Alexan- 
 drian as she spoke these words, and he thought, as he glanced 
 at her face and figure with a mingled expression of regret and 
 admiration, " Satan, before he fell, was the fairest among the 
 pure spirits, and, he still has power over this woman. She is 
 still far from being ripe for salvation, and yefc she has a gentle 
 heart, and even if she has erred she is not lost." 
 
 Sirona's eyes had met his, and she said with a sigh, " You
 
 140 HOMO SUM. 
 
 look at me so compassionately if only lambe were well, and 
 if I succeeded in reaching Alexandria, my destiny would per- 
 haps take a turn for the better. " 
 
 Paulus had risen while she spoke, and had taken the pot 
 from the hearth; he now offered it to his guest, saying: 
 
 " For the present we will trust to this broth to compensate 
 you for the delights of the capital; I- am glad that you 
 relish it. But tell me now, have you seriously considered what 
 danger may threaten a beautiful, young, and unprotected 
 woman in the wicked city of the Greeks? Would it not be 
 better that you should submit to the consequences of your 
 guilt, and return to Phoebicius, to whom, unfortunately, you 
 belong?" 
 
 Sirona, at these words, had set down the vessel out of which 
 she was eating, and rising in passionate haste, she exclaimed: 
 
 " That shall never, never be! And when I was sitting up 
 there half dead, and took your step for that of Phcebicius, the 
 gods showed me a way to escape from him, and from you or 
 any one who would drag me back to him. When I fled to the 
 edge of the abyss I was raving and crazed, but what I then 
 would have done in my madness I would do now in cold blood 
 as surely as I hope to see my own people in Arelas once 
 more! What was I once, and to what have I come through 
 Phcebieius! Life was to me a sunny garden with golden trel- 
 lises and shady trees, and waters as bright as crystal, with rosy 
 flowers and singing birds; and he he has darkened its light, 
 and fouled its springs, and broken down its flowers. All now 
 seems dumb and colorless, and if the abyss is my grave, no 
 one will miss me nor mourn for me. " 
 
 " Poor woman \" said Paulus. " Your husband then showed 
 you very little love. " 
 
 "Love/' laughed Sirona, " Phoebicius and love! Only 
 yesterday I told you how cruelly he used to torture me after 
 his feasts, when he was drunk or when he recovered from one 
 of his swoons. But one tiling he did to me, one tiling which 
 broke the last thread of a tie between us. No one yet has 
 ever heard a word of it from me; not even Dorothea, who 
 often blamed me when I let slip a hard word against my hus- 
 band. It was well for her to talk if I had found a husband 
 like Petrus I might perhaps have been like Dorothea. It is a 
 marvel, which I myself do not understand, that I did not grow 
 wicked with such a man, a man who why should I conceal 
 it? who, when we were at Home, because he was in debt, and 
 because he hoped to get promotion through his legate Quintil- 
 lus, sold me me to him. He himself brought the old man
 
 HOMO SUM. 141 
 
 who had often followed me about into his house, but our 
 hostess, a good woman, had overheard the matter, and be- 
 trayed it all to me. It is so base, so vile it seems to blacken 
 my soul only to think of- it! The legate got little enough in 
 return for his sesterces, but Phoebicius did not restore his 
 wages of sin, and his rage against me knew no bounds when 
 he was transferred to the oasis at the instigation of his betrayed 
 chief. Now you know all; and never advise me again to re- 
 turn to that man to whom my misfortune has bound me. 
 Only listen how the poor little beast in there is whining. 
 It wants to come to me, and has not the strength to move." 
 
 Paulus looked after her sympathetically as she disappeared 
 under the opening in the rock, and he awaited her return with 
 folded arms. He could not see into the cave, for the space in 
 which the bed stood was closed at the end by the narrow pass- 
 age which formed the entrance, and which joined it at an 
 angle, as the handle of a scythe joins the blade. She remained 
 a long time, and he could hear now and then a tender word with 
 which she tried to comfort the suffering creature. Suddenly 
 he was startled by a loud and bitter cry from Sirona; no 
 doubt the poor woman's affectionate little companion was 
 dead, and in the dim twilight of the cave she had seen its 
 dulled eye, and felt the stiffness of death overspreading and 
 paralyzing its slender limbs. He dared not go into the cavern, 
 but he felt his eyes fill with tears, and he would willingly have 
 spoken some word of consolation to her. 
 
 At last she came out, her eyes red with weeping. Paulus 
 had guessed rightly, for she held the body of little lambe in 
 her arms. 
 
 " How sorry I am," said Paulus; " the poor little creature 
 was so pretty. " 
 
 Sirona nodded, sat down, and unfastened the prettily em- 
 broidered band from the dog's neck, saying, half to herself 
 and half to Paulus: 
 
 " My little Agnes worked this collar. I myself had taught 
 her to sew, and this was the first piece of work that was all 
 her own. " She held the collar up to the anchorite. "This 
 clasp is of real silver," she went on, " and my father himself 
 gave it to me. He was fond of the poor little dog, too. Now 
 it will never leap and spring again, poor thing." 
 
 She looked sadly down at the dead dog. Then she collected 
 herself, and said, hurriedly: 
 
 " Now I will go away from here. Nothing nothing keeps 
 me any longer in this wilderness, for the senator's house, where 
 I have spent many happy hours, and where every one was fond
 
 142 HOMO SUM. 
 
 of me, is closed against me, and must ever be so long as he 
 lives there. If you have not been kind to me only to do me 
 harm in the end, let me go to-day, and help me to reach 
 Alexandria. " 
 
 11 Not to-day, in any case not to-day," replied Paulus. 
 " First I must find out when a vessel sails for Klysma or for 
 Berenike, and then I have many other things to see to for 
 you. You owe me an answer to -my question as to what you 
 expect to do and to find in Alexandria. Poor child the 
 younger and the fairer you are " 
 
 "I know all you would say to me, " interrupted Sirona. 
 " Wherever I have been I have attracted the eyes of men, and 
 when I have read in then* looks that I pleased them it has 
 greatly pleased me why should I deny it? Many a one has 
 spoken fair words to me or given me flowers, and sent old 
 women to my house to win me for them; but even if one has 
 happened to please me better than another, still I have never 
 found it hard to send them home again as was fitting." 
 
 "Till Hernias laid his love at your feet," said Paulus. 
 " He is a bold lad 
 
 " A pretty, inexperienced boy/' said Sirona, " neither more 
 nor less. It was a heedless thing, no doubt, to admit him to 
 my rooms, but no Vestal need be ashamed to own to such 
 favor as I showed him. I am innocent, and I will remain so, 
 that I may stand in my father's presence without a blush 
 when I have earned money enough in the capital for the long 
 journey." 
 
 Paulus looked in her face astonished and almost horrified. 
 
 Then he had in fact taken on himself guilt which did not 
 exist, and perhaps the senator would have been slower to con- 
 demn Sirona if it had not been for his falsely acknowledging 
 it. He stood before her, feeling like a child that would fain 
 put together some object of artistic workmanship, and who 
 has broken it to pieces for want of skill. At the same time 
 he could not doubt a word that she said, for the voice within 
 him had long since plainly told him that this woman was no 
 common criminal. 
 
 For some time he was at a loss for words; at last he said, 
 timidly: 
 
 : ' What do you propose doing in Alexandria?" 
 
 " Polykarp says that all good work finds a purchaser 
 there," she answered. "And I can weave particularly well, 
 and embroider with gold thread. Perhaps I may find shelter 
 under some roof where there are children, and I would willing- 
 ly attend to them during the day. In my free time and at
 
 HOMO SUM. 143 
 
 night I could work at my frame, and when I have scraped 
 enough together I shall soon find a ship that will carry me to 
 Gaul, to my own people. Do you not see that I can not go 
 back to Phoebicius, and can you help me?" 
 
 " Most willingly, and better perhaps than you fancy/' said 
 Paulus. " I can not explain this to you just now; but you 
 need not request me, but may rather feel that you have a 
 good right to demand of me that I should rescue you." 
 
 She looked at him in surprised inquiry, and he continued: 
 
 " First let me carry away the little dog, and bury it down 
 there. I will put a stone over the grave, that you may know 
 where it lies. It must be so; the body can not lie here any 
 longer. Take the thing,, which lies there. I had tried before 
 to cut it out for you, for you complained yesterday that your 
 hair was all in a tangle because you had not a comb, so I tried 
 to carve you one out of bone. There were none at the shop in 
 the oasis, and I am myself only a wild creature of the wilder- 
 ness, a sorry, foolish animal, and do not use one. Was that a 
 stone that fell? Ay, certainly, I hear a man's step; go quick- 
 ly into the cave and do not stir till I call you. " 
 
 Sirona withdrew into her rock dwelling, and Paulus took 
 the body of the dog in his arms to conceal it from the man 
 who was approaching. He looked round, undecided, and 
 seeking a hiding place for it, but two sharp eyes had already 
 detected him and his small burden from the height above Mm; 
 before he had found a .suitable place stones were rolling and 
 crashing down from the cliff to the right of the cavern, and at 
 the same time a man came springing down with rash boldness 
 from rock to rock, and without heeding the warning voice of 
 the anchorite, flung himself down the slope, straight in front 
 of him, exclaiming, while he struggled for breath and his face 
 was hot with hatred and excitement: 
 
 " That I know it well that is Sirona' s greyhound where 
 is its mistress? Tell me this instant, where is Sirona I must 
 and will know. " 
 
 Paulus had frequently seen, from the penitent's room in the 
 church, the senator and his family in their places near the 
 altar, and he was much astonished to recognize in the daring 
 leaper, who rushed upon him like a mad man with disheveled 
 hair and fiery eyes, Polykarp, Petrus's second son. 
 
 The anchorite found it difficult to preserve his calm and 
 composed demeanor, for since he had been aware that he hud 
 accused Sirona falsely of a heavy sin, while at the same time 
 he had equally falsely confessed himself the partner of her 
 misdeed, he felt an anxiety that amounted to anguish, and a
 
 144 HOMO SUM. 
 
 leaden oppression checked the rapidity of his thoughts. He 
 at first stammered out a few unintelligible words, but his op- 
 ponent was in fearful earnest with his question; he seized the 
 collar of the anchorite's coarse garment with terrible violence, 
 and cried, in a husky voice: " Where did you find the dog? 
 Where is" 
 
 But suddenly he let go his hold of the Alexandrian, looked 
 at him from head to foot, and said, softly and slowly: 
 
 " Can it be possible? Are you Paulus, the Alexandrian?" 
 
 The anchorite nodded assent. Polykarp laughed loud and 
 bitterly, pressed his hand to his forehead, and exclaimed, in a 
 tone of the deepest disgust and contempt: 
 
 " And is it so, indeed! and such a repulsive ape, too! But 
 I will not believe that she ever held out a hand to you, for the 
 mere sight of you makes me dirty." 
 
 Paulus felt his heart beating like a hammer within his 
 breast, and there was a singing and roaring in his ears. When 
 once more Polykarp threatened him with his fist he involuntar- 
 ily took the posture of an athlete in a westling match, he 
 stretched out his arms to try to get a good hold of his adver- 
 sary, and said, in a hollow, deep tone of angry warning: 
 " Stand back, or something will happen to you that will not 
 be good for your bones. " The speaker was indeed Paulus, 
 and yet not Paulus; it was Menander, the pride of the Palaes- 
 tra, who had never let pass a word of his comrades that did 
 not altogether please him. And yet yesterday in the oasis he 
 had quietly submitted to far worse insults than Polykarp had 
 offered him, and accepted them with contented cheerfulness. 
 Whence then to-day tin's wild sensitiveness and eager desire to 
 fight?. 
 
 When, two days since, he had gone to his old cave to fetch 
 the last of his hidden gold pieces, he had wished to greet old 
 Stephanus, but the Egyptian attendant had scared him off like 
 an evil spirit with angry curses, and had thrown stones after 
 him. In the oasis he had attempted to enter the church, in 
 spite of the bishop's prohibition, there to put up a prayer; for 
 he thought that the antechamber, where the spring was and 
 in which penitents were wont to tarry, would certainly not be 
 closed even to him; but the acolytes had driven him away with 
 abusive words, and the doorkeeper, who a short time since had 
 trusted him with the key, spitted in his face, and yet he had not 
 found it difficult to turn .his back on his persecutors without 
 anger or complaint 
 
 At the counter of the dealer of whom he had bought the 
 woolen coverlet, the little jug, and many other things for
 
 HOMO SUM. 145 
 
 Sirona, a priest had passed by, had pointed to his money, and 
 had said: 
 
 " Satan takes care of his own." 
 
 Paulus had answered him nothing, had returned to his 
 charge with an uplifted and grateful heart, and had heartily 
 rejoiced once more in the exalted and encouraging conscious- 
 ness that he was enduring disgrace and suffering for another 
 in humble imitation of Christ. What was it, then, that made 
 him so acutely sensitive with regard to Polykarp, and once 
 more snapped those threads, which long years of self-denial 
 had twined into fetters for his impatient spirit? Was it that 
 to the man who mortified his flesh in order to free his soul 
 from its bonds it seemed a lighter matter to be contemned as 
 a sinner, hated of God, than to let his person and his manly 
 dignity be treated with contempt? Was he thinking of the 
 fair listener in the cave, who was a witness to his humiliation? 
 Had his wrath blazed up because he saw in Polykarp, not so 
 much an exasperated fellow-believer, as merely a man who 
 with bold scorn had put himself in the path of another man? 
 
 The lad and the gray-bearded athlete stood face to face like 
 mortal enemies ready for the fight, and Polykarp did not 
 waver, although he, like most Christian youths, had been for- 
 bidden to take part in the wrestling-games in the Palaestra, 
 and though he knew that he had to deal with a strong and 
 practiced antagonist. He himself was indeed no weakling, 
 and his stormy indignation added to his desire to measure him- 
 self against the hated seducer. 
 
 " Come on come on!" he cried, his eyes flashing, and 
 leaning forward with his neck outstretched and ready on his 
 part for the struggle. " Grip hold! you were a gladiator, or 
 something of that kind, before you put on that filthy dress 
 that you might break into houses at night, and go unpunished. 
 Make this sacred spot an arena; and if you succeed in 
 making an end of me I will thank you, for what made life 
 worth having to me you have already ruined, whether or no. 
 Only come on. Or perhaps you think it easier to ruin the life 
 of a woman than to measure your strength against her de- 
 fender? Clutch hold, I say, clutch hold, or ' 
 
 " Or you will fall upon me," said Paulus, whose arms had 
 dropped by his side during the youth's address. He spoke in 
 a quite altered tone of indifference. " Throw yourself upon 
 me, and do with me what you will; I will not prevent you. 
 Here I shall stand, and I. will not fight, for you have so far liit 
 the truth this holy place is not an arena. But the Gaulish
 
 146 HOMO SUM. 
 
 lacty belongs neither to you nor to me, and who gives you a 
 claim " 
 
 " Who gives me a right over her?" interrupted Polykarp, 
 stepping close up to his questioner with sparkling eyes. ' *' He 
 who permits the worshiper to speak of his God. Sirona is 
 mine, as the sun, and moon, and stars are mine, because they 
 shed a beautiful light on iny murky path. My life is mine 
 and she was the life of my life, and therefore I say boldly, and 
 would say if there were twenty such as Phrebicius here, she 
 belongs to me. And because I regarded her as my own, and 
 so regard her still, I hate you and fling my scorn in your teeth 
 you are like a hungry sheep that has got into the gardener's 
 flower-bed, and stolen from the stem the wonderful, lovely 
 flower that he has nurtured with care, and that only blooms 
 once in a hundred years like a cat that has sneaked into some 
 marble hall, and that to satisfy its greed has strangled some 
 rare and splendid bird that a traveler has brought from a dis- 
 tant land. But you, you hypocritical robber, who disregard 
 your own body with beastly pride and sacrifice it to low brutal- 
 ity, what should you know of the magic charm of beauty of 
 that daughter of heaven, that can touch even thoughtless chil- 
 dren, and before whom the gods themselves do homage! I 
 have a right to Sirona; for hide her where you will or even if 
 the centurion were to -find her and to fetter her to himself 
 with chains and rivets and brass still that which makes her 
 the noblest work of the Most High the image of her beauty 
 lives in no one, in no one as it lives in me. This hand has 
 never even touched your victim, and yet God has given Sirona 
 to no man as he has given her wholly to me, for to no man can. 
 she be what she is to me, and 110 man can love her as I do! 
 She has the nature of an angel and the heart of a child; she is 
 without spot, and as pure as the diamond, or the swan's breast, 
 or the morning-dew in the bosom of a rose. And though she 
 has let you into her house a thousand times, and though my 
 father even, and my own mother, and every one every one 
 pointed at her and condemned her, I would never cease to be- 
 lieve in her purity. It is you who have brought her to shame; 
 it is you " 
 
 " I kept silence while all condemned her," said Paulus, with 
 warmth, "for I believed that she was guilty, just as you be- 
 lieve that I am, just as every one that is bound by no ties of 
 love is more ready to believe evil than good. Now I know, ay, 
 know for certain, that we did the poor woman an injustice. 
 If the splendor of the lovely dream that you call Sirona has 
 been clouded by my fault "
 
 HOMO SUM. 14? 
 
 " Cloud-ed? And by you?" laughed Polykarp. " Can the 
 toad that plunges into the sea cloud its shining blue? can the 
 black bat that flits across the night cloud the pure light of the 
 full moon?" 
 
 An emotion of rage again shot through the anchorite's 
 heart, but he was by this time on his guard against himself, 
 and he only said, bitterly, and with hardly won composure : 
 
 " And how was it, then, with the flower and with the bird 
 that were destroyed by beasts without understanding? I fancy 
 you meant no absent third person by that beast, and yet now 
 you declare that it is not within my power even to throw a 
 shadow over your day-star! You see you contradict yourself in 
 your anger, and the son of a wise man, who himself has not 
 long since left the scbool of rhetoric, should try to avoid that. 
 You might regard me with less hostility, for I will not offend 
 you; nay, I will repay your evil words with good perhaps the 
 very best indeed that you ever heard in your life. Sirona is a 
 worthy and innocent woman, and at the time when Phcebicius 
 came out to seek her, I had never even set eyes upon her nor 
 had my ears ever heard a word pass her lips. ' ' 
 
 At these words Polykarp's threatening manner changed, and 
 feeling at once incapable of understanding the matter, and 
 anxious to believe, he eagerly exclaimed: 
 
 " But yet the sheep-skin was yours, and you let yourself be 
 thrashed by Phcebicius without defending yourself. " 
 
 " So filthy an ape/' said'Paulus, imitating Polykarp's voice, 
 " needs many blows, and that day I could not venture to de- 
 fend myself because because But that is no concern of 
 yours. You must subdue your curiosity for a few days longer, 
 and then it may easily happen that the man whose very aspect 
 makes you feel dirty the bat, the toad '' 
 
 " Let that pass now," said Polykarp. " Perhaps the excite- 
 ment which the sight of you stirred up in my bruised and 
 wounded heart led me to use unseemly language. Now, in- 
 deed, I see that your matted hair sits round a well-featured 
 countenance. Forgive my violent and unjust attack. I was 
 beside myself, and I opened my whole soul to.yoft, and now 
 that you know how it is with me, once more I ask you, where 
 is Sirona?" 
 
 Polykarp looked Paulus in the face with anxious and urgent 
 entreaty, pointing to the dog, as much as to say, " You must 
 know, for here is the evidence. " 
 
 The Alexandrian hesitated to answer; he glanced by chance 
 at the entrance of the cave, and seeing the gleam of Sirona's 
 white robe behind the palm-branches, he said to himself that
 
 148 HOMO SUM. 
 
 if Polykarp lingered much longer he could not fail to discover 
 her a consummation to be avoided. 
 
 There were many reasons which might have made him re- 
 solve to stand in the way of a meeting between the lady and 
 the young man, but not one of them occurred to him, and 
 though he did not even dream that a feeling akin to jealousy 
 had begun to influence him, still he was conscious that it was 
 Ms lively repugnance to seeing the two sink into each other's 
 arms before his very eyes that prompted him to turn shortly 
 round, to take up the body of the little dog, and to say to the 
 inquirer: 
 
 "It is true, I do know where she is hiding, and when the 
 time comes you shall know it too. Now I must bury the ani- 
 mal, and if you will you can help me." 
 
 Without waiting for any objection on Polykarp's part, he 
 hurried from stone to stone up to the plateau on the precipi- 
 tous edge of which he had first seen Sirona. The younger man 
 followed him breathlessly, and only joined him when he had 
 already begun to dig out the earth with his hands at the foot 
 of a cliff. Polykarp was now standing close to the anchorite, 
 and repeated his question with vehement eagerness, but Paulus 
 did not look up from his work, and only said, digging faster 
 and faster: 
 
 " Come to this place again to-morrow, and then it may per- 
 haps be possible that I should tell you/' 
 
 " You think to put me off with that," cried the lad. " Then 
 you are mistaken in me, and if you cheat me with your honest- 
 sounding words I will " 
 
 But he did not end his threat, for a clear, longing cry dis- 
 tinctly broke; the silence of the deserted mountain. 
 
 " Polykarp Polykarp!" It sounded nearer and nearer, 
 and the words had a magic effect on him for whose ear they 
 were intended. 
 
 With his head erect, and trembling in every limb, the young 
 man listened eagerly. Then he cried out, " It is her voice! I 
 am coming, , Sirona, I am coming. " And without paying any 
 heed to the an'chorite, he was on the point of hurrying off to 
 meet her. But Paulus placed himself closely in front of him, 
 and said, sternly: 
 
 "You stay here." 
 
 "Out of my way," shouted Polykarp, beside himself. 
 " She is calling to me" out of the hole where you are keeping 
 her you slanderer you cowardly liar! Out of the way I say! 
 You will not? Then defend yourself, you hideous toad, or I
 
 HOMO STJM. 149 
 
 will tread you down, if my foot does not fear to be soiled with 
 your poison." 
 
 Up to this moment Paulus had stood before the young man 
 with outspread arms, motionless, but immovable as an oak- 
 tree; now Polykarp first hit him. This blow shattered the 
 anchorite 's patience, and, no longer master of himself, he ex- 
 claimed: "You shall answer to me for this," and before a 
 third and fourth call had come from Sirona's lips, he had 
 grasped the artist's slender body, and with a mighty swing he 
 flung him backward over his own broad and powerful shoulders 
 on to the stony ground. 
 
 After this mad act he stood over his victim with outstretched 
 legs, folded arms, and rolling eyes, as if rooted to the earth. 
 He waited till Polykarp had picked -himself up, and, without 
 looking round, but pressing his hands to the back of his head, 
 had tottered away like a drunken man. 
 
 Paulus looked after him till he disappeared over the cliff at 
 the edge of the level ground; but he did not see how Polykarp 
 fell senseless to the ground with a stifled cry, not far from the 
 very spring whence his enemy had fetched the water to refresh 
 Sirona's parched lips. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " SHE will attract the attention of Damianus or Salathiel or 
 one of the others up there," thought Paulus, as he heard 
 Sirona's call once more, and, following her voice, he went 
 hastily and excitedly down the mountain side. 
 
 ' ' We shall have peace for to-day at any rate from that 
 audacious fellow/' muttered he to himself, " and perhaps to- 
 morrow too, for his blue bruises will be a greeting .from me. 
 But how difficult it is to forget what we have once known! 
 The grip with which I flung him, I learned how long ago? 
 from the chief gymnast at Delphi. My marrow is not yet 
 quite dried up, and that I will prove to the boy with these fists, 
 if he comes back with three or four of the same mettle." 
 
 But Paulus had not long to indulge in such wild thoughts, 
 for on the way to the cave he met Sirona. 
 
 :i Where is Polykarp?" she called out from afar. 
 
 " I have sent him home," he answered. 
 
 " And he obeyed you?" she asked again. 
 
 " I gave him striking reasons for doing so," he replied, 
 quickly. 
 
 " But he will return?"
 
 150 HOMO SOI. 
 
 " He has learned enough up here for to-day. We have now 
 to think of your journey to Alexandria." 
 
 " But it seems to me/' replied Sirona. blushing, " that I 
 am safely hidden in your cave, and just now you yourself 
 said" 
 
 " I warned you against the dangers of the expedition/' in- 
 terrupted Paulus. " But since then it has occurred to me that 
 I know of a shelter and of a safe protector for yon. There, 
 we are at home again. Now go into the cave, for very proba- 
 bly some one may have heard you calling, and if other anchor- 
 ites were to discover you here they would compel me to take 
 you back to your husband." 
 
 " I will go directly/' sighed Sirona, " but first explain to 
 me for I heard all that you said to each other " and she 
 colored " how it happened that Phcebicius took Hermas's 
 sheep-skin for yours, and why you let him beat you without 
 giving any explanation?" 
 
 " Because my back is even broader than that great fellow's," 
 replied the Alexandrian, quickly. " I will tell you all about it 
 in some quiet hour, perhaps on our journey to Klysma. Now 
 go into the cave, or you may spoil every tiling. I know, too, 
 what you lack most since you heard the fair words of the sena- 
 tor's son." 
 
 " Well what?' 5 asked Sirona, 
 
 " A mirror!" laughed Paulus. 
 
 " How much you are mistaken!" said Sirona; and she 
 thought to herself: " The woman that Polykarp looks at as 
 he does at me does not need a mirror." 
 
 An old Jewish merchant lived in the fishing-town on the 
 western declivity of the mountain; he shipped the charcoal for 
 Egypt, which was made in the valleys of the peninsula by 
 burning the sajal acacia, and he had formerly supplied fuel for 
 the drying-room of the papyrus factory of Paulus' s father. 
 He now had a business connection with his brother, and Paulus 
 himself had had dealings with him. He was prudent and 
 wealthy, and whenever he met the anchorite he blamed him 
 for his flight from the world, and implored him to put his hos- 
 pitality to the test, and to command his resources and means 
 as if they were his own. 
 
 This man was now to find a boat, and to provide the means 
 of flight for Sirona. The longer Paulus thought it over the 
 more indispensable it seemed to him that he should himself ac- 
 company the Gaulish lady to Alexandria, and in his own per- 
 son find her a safe shelter. He knew that he was free to dis-
 
 HOMO SUM. 151 
 
 pose of his brother's enormous fortune half of which in fact 
 was his as though it were all his own, and he began to rejoice 
 in his possessions for the first time for many years. Soon he 
 was occupied in thinking of the furnishing of the house which 
 he intended to assign to the fair Sirona. At first he thought 
 of a simple citizen's dwelling, but by degrees he began to pict- 
 ure the house intended for her as fitted with shining gold, 
 white and colored marble, many-colored Syrian carpets, nay, 
 even with vain works of the heathen, with statues, and a lux- 
 urious bath. In increasing unrest he wandered from rock to 
 rock, and many times as he went up and down he paused in 
 front of the cave where Sirona was. Once he saw her light 
 robe, and its conspicuous gleam led him to the reflection that 
 it would be imprudent to conduct her to the humble fishing- 
 village in that dress. If he^meant to conceal her traces from 
 the search of Phoebicius and Polykarp, he must first provide 
 her with a simple dress, and a veil that should hide her shining 
 hair and fair face, which even in the capital could find no 
 match. 
 
 The Amalekite, from whom he had twice bought some goat's 
 milk for her, lived in a hut which Paulus could easily reach. 
 He still possessed a few drachmas, and with these, he could 
 purchase what he needed from the wife and daughter of the 
 goat-herd. Although the sky was now covered with mist and 
 a hot sweltering south wind had risen, he prepared to start at 
 once. The sun was no longer visible, though its scorching heat 
 could be felt, but Paulus paid no heed to this sign of an ap- 
 proaching storm. 
 
 Hastily, and with so little attention that he confused one 
 object with another in the little store-cellar, he laid some 
 bread, a knife, and some dates in front of the entrance to the 
 cave, called out to his guest that he should soon return, and 
 hurried at a rapid pace up the mountain. 
 
 Sirona answered him with a gentle word of farewell, and 
 did not even look round after him, for she was glad to be 
 alone, and so soon as the sound of his step had died away she 
 gave herself up once more to the overwhelming torrent of new 
 and deep feelings which had flooded her soul ever since she had 
 heard Polykarp's ardent hymn of love. 
 
 Paulus, in the last few hours, was Menander again, but the 
 lonely woman in the cavern the cause of this transformation 
 the wife of Phcebicius, had undergone an even greater change 
 than he. She was still Siroua, and yet not Sirona. 
 
 When the anchorite had commanded her to retire into the 
 cave she had obeyed him willingly, nay, she would have with-
 
 152 HOMO SUM. 
 
 drawn even without his desire, and have sought for solitude; 
 for she felt that something mighty, hitherto unknown to her, 
 and incomprehensible even to herself, was passing in her soul, 
 and that a nameless but potent something had grown up in 
 her heart, had struggled free, and had found life and motion; 
 a something that was strange and yet precious to her, fright- 
 ening and yet sweet a pain, and yet unspeakably delighti ul. 
 An emotion such as she had never before known had mastered 
 her, and she felt, since hearing Polykarp's speech, as if a new 
 and purer blood was flowing rapidly through her veins. Every 
 nerve quivered like the leaves of the poplars in her former 
 home when the wind blows down to meet the Ehone, and she 
 found it difficult to follow what Paulus said, and still more so 
 to find the right answer to his questions. 
 
 As soon as she was alone she sat down on her bed, rested her 
 elbows on her knees and her head in her hand, and the grow- 
 ing and surging flood of her passion broke out in an abundant 
 stream of warm tears. 
 
 She had never wept so before; no anguish, no bitterness was 
 infused into the sweet refreshing dew of those tears. Fair 
 flowers of never dreamed of splendor and beauty blossomed in 
 the heart of the weeping woman, and when at length her tears 
 ceased there was a great silence, but also a great glory within 
 her and around her. She was like a man who has grown up 
 in an under-ground room, where no light of day can ever shine, 
 and who at last is allowed to look at the blue heavens, at the 
 splendor of the sun, at the myriad flowers and leaves in the 
 green woods and on the meadows. 
 
 She was wretched, and yet a happy woman. 
 
 " That is love!" were the words that her heart sung in tri- 
 umph, and as her memory looked back on the admirers who 
 had approached her in Arelas when she was still little more 
 than a child, and afterward in Rome, with tender words and 
 looks, they all appeared like phantom forms carrying feeble 
 tapers, whose light paled pitifully, for Polykarp had now come 
 on the scene, bearing the very sun itself in Ms hands. 
 
 " They and he," she murmured to herself, and she beheld 
 as it were a balance, and on one of the scales lay the homage 
 which in her vain fancy she had so coveted. It was of no more 
 weight than chaff, and its whole mass was like a heap of straw, 
 which flew up as soon as Polykarp laid his love a hundred- 
 weight of pure gold in the other scale. 
 
 " And if all the nations and kings of the earth brought their 
 treasures together," thought she, " and laid them at my feet, 
 they could not make me as rich as he has made me; and if all
 
 HOMO SUM. 153 
 
 the stars were fused into one, the vast globe of light which they 
 would form could not shine so brightly as the joy that fills my 
 soul. Come now what may, I will never complain after that 
 hour of delight." 
 
 Then she thought over each of her former meetings with. 
 Polykarp, and remembered that he had never spoken to her of 
 love. What must it not have cost him to control himself thus; 
 and a great triumphant joy filled her heart at the thought that 
 she was pure, and not unworthy of him, and an unutterable 
 sense of gratitude rose up in her soul. The love she bore this 
 man seemed to take wings, and it spread itself over the com- 
 mon life and aspect of the world, and rose to a spirit of devo- 
 tion. With a deep sigh she raised her eyes and hands to 
 heaven, and in her longing to prove her love to every.living 
 being, nay, to every created thing, her spirit sought the mighty 
 and beneficent Power to whom she owed such exalted happi- 
 ness. 
 
 In her youth her father had kept her very strictly, but still 
 he had allowed her to go through the streets of the town with 
 her young companions, wreathed with flowers, and all dressed 
 in their best, in the procession of maidens at the feast of Venus 
 of Arelas, to whom all the women of her native town were 
 wont to turn with prayers and sacrifices when their hearts were 
 touched by love. 
 
 Now she tried to pray to Venus, but again and again the 
 wanton jests of the men who were used to accompany the 
 maidens came into her mind, and memories of how she herself 
 had eagerly listened for the only too frequent cries of admira- 
 tion, and had enticed the silent with a glance, or thanked the 
 more clamorous with a smile. To-day certainly she had no, 
 mind for such sport, and she recollected the stern words which 
 had fallen from Dorothea's lips on the worship of Venus, when 
 she had once told her how well the natives of Arelas knew how 
 to keep their feasts. 
 
 And Polykarp, whose heart was nevertheless so full of love, 
 he no doubt thought like his mother, and she pictured him as 
 she had frequently seen him following his parents by the side 
 of his sister Marthana often hand in hand with her as they 
 went to church. The senator's son had always had a kindly 
 glance for her, excepting when he was one of this procession to 
 the temple of the God of whom they said that He was love 
 itself, and whose votaries indeed were not poor in love; for in 
 Petrus's house, if anywhere, all hearts were united by a tender 
 affection. It then occurred to her that Paulus had just now 
 advised her to turn to the crucified God of the Christians, who
 
 164 HOMO SUM. 
 
 was full of an equal and divine love to all men. To him Poly- 
 karp also prayed was praying perhaps at this very hour; and 
 if she now did the same her prayers would ascend together with 
 his, and so she might be in some sort one with that beloved 
 friend, from whom -everything else conspired to part her. 
 
 She knelt down and folded her hands, as she had so often 
 seen Christians do, and she reflected on the torments that the 
 poor Man who hung with pierced hands on the cross had so 
 meekly endured, though He suffered innocently; she felt the 
 deepest pity for Him, and softly said to herself, as she raised 
 her eyes to the low roof of her cave dwelling: 
 
 " Thou poor good Son of God, Thou knowest what it is 
 when all men condemn us unjustly, and surely Thou canst 
 understand when I say to Thee how sore my heart is! And 
 they say, too, that of all hearts Thine is the most Ibving, and 
 so Thou wilt know how it is that, in spite of all my misery, it 
 still seems to me that I am a happy woman. The very breath 
 of a God must be rapture, and that Thou must have learned 
 when they tortured and mocked Thee, for Thou hast suffered 
 out of Iqve. They say that Thou wast wholly pure and per- 
 fectly sinless. Kow I I have committed many follies, but 
 not a sin a real sin no, indeed, I have not; and Thou must 
 know it, for Thou art a God, and knowest the past, and canst 
 read hearts. And, indeed, I also would fain remain innocent, 
 and yet how can that be when I can not help being devoted to 
 Polykarp,'and yet I am another man's wife. But am I indeed 
 the true and lawful wife of that horrible wretch who sold me 
 to another? He is as far from my heart as far as if I had 
 never seen him with these eyes. And yet, believe me, I wish 
 him no ill, and I will be quite content if only I need never go 
 back to him. 
 
 " When I was a child I was afraid of frogs; my brothers 
 and sisters knew it, and once my brother Licinius laid a large 
 one, that he had caught, on my bare neck. I started, and 
 shuddered, and screamed out loud, for it was so hideously cold 
 and damp I can not express it. And that is exactly how I 
 have always felt since those days in Rome whenever Phoebicius 
 touched me, and yet I dared not scream when he did. 
 
 "But Polykarp! oh! would that he were here, and might 
 only grasp my hand. He said I was his own, and yet I have never 
 encouraged him. But now! if a danger threatened him or a 
 sorrow, and if by any means I could save him from it, indeed 
 indeed though I never could bear pain well, and am afraid 
 of death, I would let them nail me to a cross for him, as Thou 
 was crucified for us all.
 
 HOMO SUM. 155 
 
 " But then he must know that I had died for him, and if he 
 looked into my dying eyes with his strange, deep gaze, I would 
 tell him that it is to him that I owe a love so great that it is a 
 thing altogether different and higher than any love I have ever 
 before seen. And a feeling that is so far above all measure of 
 what ordinary mortals experience, it seems to me, must be 
 divine. Can such love be wrong? I know not; but Thou 
 knowest, and Thou, whom they name the good Shepherd, lead 
 Thou- us each apart from the other, if it be best so for him 
 but yet, if it be possible, unite us once more, if it be only for 
 one single hour. If only he could know that I am not wicked, 
 and that poor Sirona would willingly belong to him, and to no 
 other, then I would be ready to die. Oh, Thou good, kind 
 Shepherd, take me into Thy flock, and guide me." 
 
 Thus prayed Sirona, and before her fancy there floated the 
 image of a lovely and loving youthful form; she had seen the 
 original in the model for Polykarp's noble work, and she had 
 not forgotten the exquisite details of the face. It seemed to 
 her as well-known and familiar as if she had known what in 
 fact she could not even guess that she herself had had some 
 share in the success of the work. 
 
 The love which unites two hearts is like the ocean of Homer, 
 which encircles both halves of the earth. It flows and rolls 
 on. Where shall we seek its source here or there who can 
 tell? 
 
 It was Dame Dorothea 'who in her motherly pride had led 
 the Gaulish lady into her son's workshop. Siroua thought of 
 her and her husband and her house, where over the door a 
 motto was carved in the stone which she had seen every morn- 
 ing from her sleeping-room. She could not read Greek, but 
 Polykarp's sister, Marthana, had more than once told her what 
 it meant. " Commit thy ways to the Lord, and put thy trust 
 in Him," ran the inscription, and she repeated it to herself 
 again and again, and then drew fancy pictures of the future in 
 smiling day-dreams, which by degrees assumed sharper outlines 
 and brighter colors. 
 
 She saw herself united to Polykarp, and as the daughter of 
 Petrus and Dorothea, at home in the senator's house; she had 
 a right now to the children who loved her, and who were so 
 dear to her; she helped the deaconess in all her labors, and 
 won praise and looks of approval. She had learned to use her 
 hands in her father's house, and now she could show what she 
 could do; Polykarp even gazed at her with surprise and admira- 
 tion, and said that she was as clever as she was beautiful, and 
 promised to become a second Dorothea. She went with him
 
 156 HOMO SUM. 
 
 into his workshop, and there arranged all the things that lay 
 about in conf usion, and dusted it, while he followed her every 
 movement with his gaze, and at last stood before her, his arms 
 wide wide open to clasp her. 
 
 She started, and pressed her hands over her eyes, and flung 
 herself loving and beloved on his breast, and would have 
 thrown her arms round his neck, while her hot tears flowed 
 but the sweet vision was suddenly shattered, for a swift flash 
 of light pierced the gloom of the cavern, and immediately after 
 she heard the heavy roll of the thunder-clap, dulled by the 
 rocky walls of her dwelling. 
 
 Completely recalled to actuality, she listened for a moment, 
 and then stepped to the entrance of the cave. It was already 
 dusk, aud heavy rain drops were falling from the dark clouds 
 which seemed to shroud the mountain peaks in a vast veil 
 of black crape. Paulus was nowhere to be seen, but there 
 stood the food he had prepared for her. She had eaten nothing 
 since her breakfast, and she now tried to drink the milk, but 
 it had curdled and was not fit to use; a small bit of bread 
 and a few dates quite satisfied her. 
 
 As the lightning and thunder began to follow each other 
 more and more quickly, and the darkness fast grew deeper, a 
 great fear fell upon her; she pushed the food on one side, and 
 looked up to the mountain where the peaks were now wholly 
 veiled in night, now seemed afloat in a sea of flame, and more 
 distinctly visible than by daylight. Again and again a forked 
 flash like a saw-blade of fire cut through the black curtain of 
 cloud with terrific swiftness, again and again the thunder 
 sounded like a blast of trumpets through the silent wilderness, 
 and multiplied itself, clattering, growling, roaring, and echoing 
 from rock to rock. Light and sound at last seemed to be 
 hurled from heaven together, and the very rock in which 
 her cave was formed quaked. 
 
 Crushed and trembling, she drew back into the inmost depth 
 of her rocky chamber, starting at each flash that illumined the 
 darkness. 
 
 At length they occurred at longer intervals, the thunder lost 
 its appalling fury, and as the wind drove the storm further 
 and further to the southward, at last it wholly died away. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT was quite dark in Sirona's cavern, fearfully dark, and the 
 blacker grew the night which shrouded her, the more her ter- 
 ror increased. From time to time she shut her eyes as tightly
 
 HOMO SUM. 157 
 
 as she could, for she fancied she could see a crimson glare, and 
 she longed for light in that hour as a drowning man longs for 
 the shore. Dark forebodings of every kind oppressed her soul. 
 
 What if Paulus had abandoned her, and had left her to her 
 fate? Or if Polykarp should have been searching for her on 
 the mountain in this storm, and in the darkness should have 
 fallen into some abyss, or have been struck by the lightning? 
 Supposing the mass of rock that overhung the entrance to the 
 cave should have been loosened in the storm, and should fall 
 and bar her exit to the open air? Then she would be buried 
 alive, and she must perish alone, without seeing him whom she 
 loved once more, or telling him that she had not been un- 
 worthy of his trust in her. 
 
 Cruelly tormented by such thoughts as these, she dragged 
 herself up and felt her way out into the air and wind, for she 
 could no longer hold out in the gloomy solitude and fearful 
 darkness. She had hardly reached the mouth of the cave 
 when she heard steps approaching her lurking place, and again 
 she shrunk back. Who was it that could venture in this 
 pitch-dark night to climb from rock to rock? Was it Paulus 
 returning? Was it he was it Polykarp seeking her? 
 
 She felt intoxicated; she pressed her hands to her heart and 
 longed to cry out, but she dared not, and her tongue refused 
 its office. She listened with the tension of terror to the sound 
 of the steps which came straight toward her nearer and nearer, 
 then the wanderer perceived the faint gleam of her white dress, 
 and called out to her. It was Paulus. 
 
 She drew a deep breath of relief when she recognized his 
 voice, and answered his call. 
 
 " In such weather as this/'' said the anchorite, " it is better 
 to be within than without, it seems to me, for it-is not par- 
 ticularly pleasant out here, so far as I have found. " 
 
 " But it has been frightful here inside the cave, too," Sirona 
 answered; " I have been so dreadfully frightened I was so 
 lonely in the horrible darkness. If only I had had my little 
 dog with me, it would at least have been a living being. " 
 
 " I have made haste as well as I could," interrupted Paulus. 
 " The paths are not so smooth here as the Kanopic road in Alex- 
 andria, and as I have not three necks like Cerberus, who lies 
 at the feet of Serapis, it would have been wiser of me to re- 
 turn to you a little more leisurely. The storm-bird has swal- 
 lowed up all the stars as if they were flies, and the poor old 
 mountain is so grieved at it that streams of tears are every- 
 where flowing over his stony cheeks. It is wet even here. 
 JSTow go back into the cave, and let me lay this that I have got
 
 158 HOMO SUM. 
 
 here for you in my arms in the dry passage. I bring you 
 good news; to-morrow evening, when it is growing dusk, we 
 start. I have found out a vessel which will convey us to 
 Klysma, and from thence I myself will conduct you to Alexan- 
 dria. In the sheep-skin here you will find the dress and veil 
 of an Amalekite woman, and if your traces are to be kept hid- 
 den from Phcebicius you must accommodate yourself to this 
 disguise; for if the people down there were to see you as I saw 
 you to-day, they would think that Aphrodite herself had risen 
 from the sea, and the report of the fair r haired beauty that had 
 appeared among them would soon spread even to the oasis. " 
 
 ' ' But it seems to me that I am well hidden here, " replied 
 Sirona, " I am afraid of a sea-voyage, and even if we succeed 
 in reaching Alexandria without impediment, still I do not 
 know " 
 
 " It shall be my business to provide for you there," Paulus 
 interrupted, with a decision that was almost boastful, and that 
 somewhat disturbed Sirona. " You know the fable of the ass 
 in the lion's skin, but there are lions who wear the skin of an 
 ass on their shoulders or of a sheep; it conies to the same 
 thing. Yesterday you were speaking of tne splendid palaces 
 of the citizens, and lauding the happiness of their owners. 
 You shall dwell in one of those marble houses, and rule it as 
 its mistress, and it shall be my care to procure you slaves, and 
 litter-bearers, and a carriage with four mules. Do not doubt 
 my word, for I am promising nothing that I can not perform. 
 The rain is ceasing, and I will try to light a fire. You want 
 nothing more to ear? Well, then, I will wish you good -night. 
 The rest will all do to-morrow." 
 
 Sirona had listened in astonishment to the anchorite 's prom- 
 ises. 
 
 How often had she envied those who possessed all that her 
 strange protector now promised her and now it had not the 
 smallest charm for her; and, fully determined in any case not 
 to follow Paulus, whom she began to distrust, she replied, as 
 she coldly returned his greeting, " There are many hours yet 
 before to-morrow evening in which we can discuss everything. " 
 
 While Paulus was with difficulty rekindling the fire, she was 
 once more alone, and again she began to be alarmed in the 
 dark cavern. 
 
 She called the Alexandrian. " The darkness terrifies me 
 so," she said. " You still had some oil in the jug this morn- 
 ing; perhaps you may be able to contrive a little lamp for me; 
 it is so fearful to stay here in the dark/' 
 
 Paulus at once took a shard, tore a strip from his tattered
 
 HOMO SUM. 159 
 
 coat, twisted it together, and laid it for a wick in the greasy 
 fluid, lighted it at the slowly reviving fire, and putting this 
 more than simple light in Sirona's hand, he said: 
 
 " It will serve its purpose; in Alexandria I will see that you 
 have lamps which give more light, and which are made by a 
 better artist. " 
 
 Sirona placed the lamp in a hollow in the rocky wall at the 
 head of her bed, and then lay down to rest. 
 
 Light scares away wild beasts and fear, too, from the resting- 
 place of man, and it kept terrifying thoughts far away from 
 the Gaulish woman. 
 
 She contemplated her situation clearly and calmly, and quite 
 decided that she could neither quit the cave nor intrust her- 
 self to the anchorite till she had once more seen and spoken to 
 Polykarp. He no doubt knew where to seek her, and certain- 
 ly, she thought, he would by this time have returned, if the 
 storm and the starless night had not rendered it an impossibility 
 to come up the mountain from the oasis. 
 
 ' To-morrow I shall see him again, and then I will open my 
 heart to him, and he shall read my soul like a book, and on 
 every page and in every line he will find his own name. And 
 I will tell him, too, that I have prayed to his ' Good Shepherd/ 
 and how much good it has done me, and that I will be a Chris- 
 tian like his sister Marthana and his mother. Dorothea will 
 be glad indeed when she hears it, and she at any rate can not 
 have thought that I was wicked, for she always loved me, and 
 the children the children " 
 
 The bright crowd of merry faces came smiling in upon her 
 fancy, and her thoughts passed insensibly into dreams; kindly 
 sleep touched her heart with its gentle hand, and its breath 
 swept every shadow of trouble from her, soul. She slept, 
 smiling and untroubled as a child whose eyes some guardian 
 angel softly kisses, while her strange protector now turned the 
 flickering wood on the damp hearth, and with a reddening face 
 blew up the dying charcoal fire, and again walked restlessly up 
 and down, and paused each time he passed the entrance to the 
 cave to throw a longing glance at the light which shone out 
 from Sirona's sleeping-room. 
 
 Since the moment when he had flung Polykarp to the 
 ground, Paul us had not succeeded in recovering his self-com- 
 mand; not for a moment had he regretted the deed, for the 
 reflection had never occurred to him that a fall on the stony 
 soil of the Sacred Mountain, which was as hard as iron, must 
 hurt more than a fall on the sand of the arena. 
 
 " The impudent fellow, "thought he, " richly deserved what
 
 160 HOMO SUM. 
 
 he got" Who gave him a better right over Sirona than he, 
 Paulus himself, had he who had saved her life, and had taken 
 it upon himself to protect her? 
 
 Her great beauty had charmed him from the first moment 
 of their meeting, but no impure thought stirred his heart as he 
 gazed at her with delight, and listened with emotion to her 
 child-like talk. It was the hot torrent of Polykarp's words 
 that had first thrown the spark into his soul, which jealousy 
 and the dread of having to abandon Sirona to another had 
 soon fanned into a consuming flame. He would not give up 
 this woman, he would continue to care for her every need; she 
 should owe everything to him, and to him only. And so., with- 
 out reserve, he devoted himself body and soul to the prepara- 
 tions for her flight. The hot breath of the storm, the thunder 
 and lightning, torrents of rain, and blackness of night could 
 not delay him, while he leaped from rock to rock, feeling his 
 way soaked through, weary and in peril; he thought only of 
 her and of how he could most safely carry her to Alexandria, 
 and then surround her with all that could charm a woman's 
 taste. Nothing nothing did he desire for himself, and all 
 that he dreamed of and planned turned only and exclusively 
 on the pleasure which he might afford her. When he had pre- 
 pared and lighted the lamp for her he saw her again, and was 
 startled at the beauty of the face that the trembling flame re- 
 vealed. He could observe her a few seconds only, and then 
 she had vanished, and he must remain alone in the darkness 
 and the rain. He walked restlessly up and down, and an 
 agonizing longing once more to see her face lighted up by the 
 pale flame, and the white arm that she had held out to take 
 the lamp, grew more and more strong in him and accelerated 
 the pulses of his throbbing heart. As often as he passed the 
 cave, and observed the glimmer of light that came from her 
 room, he felt prompted and urged to slip in and to gaze on 
 her once more. He never once thought of prayer and scourg- 
 ing, his old means of grace; he sought rather for a reason that 
 might serve him as an excuse if he went in, and it struck him 
 that it was cold, and that a sheep-skin was lying in the cavern. 
 He would fetch it, in spite of his vow never to wear a sheep- 
 skin again; and supposing lie were thus enabled to see her, 
 what next? 
 
 When he had stepped across the threshold an inward voice 
 warned him to return, and told him that he must be treading 
 the path of unrighteousness, for that he was stealing in on tip- 
 toe like a thief; but the excuse was ready at once: " That is 
 for fear of waking her, if she is asleep."
 
 HOMO SUM. 161 
 
 And now all further reflection was silenced, for he had already 
 reached the spot where, at the end of the rocky passage, the 
 cave widened into her sleeping-room; there she lay on the hard 
 couch, sunk in slumber and enchantingly fair. 
 
 A deep gloom reigned around, and the feeble light of the 
 little lamp lighted up only a small portion of the dismal cham- 
 ber, but the head, throat and arms that it illuminated seemed 
 to shine with a light of their own that enhanced and consecrat- 
 ed the light of the feeble flame. Paulus fell breathless on his 
 knees and fixed his eyes with growing eagerness on the grace- 
 ful form of the sleeper. 
 
 Sirona was dreaming; her head, veiled in her golden hair, 
 rested on a high pillow of herbs, and her delicately rosy face 
 was turned up to the vault of the cave; her half -closed lips 
 moved gently, and now she moved her bent arm and her white 
 hand, on which the light of the lamp fell, and which rested 
 half on her forehead and half on her shining hair. 
 
 " Is she saying anything?" asked Paulus of himself, as he 
 pressed his brow against a projection of the rock as tightly as 
 if he would stem the rapid rush of his blood that it might not 
 overwhelm his bewildered brain. 
 
 Again she moved her lips. Had she indeed spoken? Had 
 she perhaps called him? 
 
 That could not be, for she still slept; but he wished to be- 
 lieve it and he would believe it, and he stole nearer to her and 
 nearer, and bent over her, and listened while his own strength 
 failed him even to draw a breath listened to the soft regular 
 breathing that heaved her bosom. No longer master of him- 
 self, he touched her white arm with his bearded lips and she 
 drew it back in her sleep, then his gaze fell on her parted lips 
 and the pearly teeth that shone between them, and a mad 
 longing to kiss them came irresistibly over him. He bent 
 trembling over her, and was on the point of gratifying his im- 
 pulse when, as if startled by a sudden apparition, he drew 
 back and raised his eyes from the rosy lips to the hand that 
 rested on the sleeper's brow. 
 
 The lamp-light played on a golden ring on Sirona's finger, 
 and shone brightly on an onyx on which was engraved an image 
 of Tyche, the tutelary goddess of Antioch, with a sphere upon 
 her bead, and bearing Amalthea's horn in her hand. 
 
 A new and strange emotion took possession of the anchorite 
 at the sight of this stone. With trembling hands he felt in the 
 breast of his torn garment, and presently drew forth a small 
 iron crucifix and the ring that he had taken from the cold hand 
 of Hermas's mother. In the golden circlet was set an onyx,
 
 162 HOMO SUM. 
 
 on which precisely the same device was visible as that on 
 Sirona's hand. The string with its precious jewel fell from his 
 grasp, he clutched his matted hair with both hands, groaned 
 deeply, and repeated again and again, as though to crave for- 
 giveness, the name of " Magdalen." 
 
 Then he called Sirona in a loud voice, and as she awoke, ex- 
 cessively startled, he asked her, in urgent tones: 
 
 " Who gave you that ring?" 
 
 " It was a present from Phoabicius," replied she. " He said 
 he had had it given to him many years since in Antioch, and 
 that it had been engraved by a great artist. But I do not want 
 it any more, and if you like to have it you may. " 
 
 "Throw it away!" exclaimed Paulus; "it will bring you 
 nothing but misfortune." Then he collected himself, went 
 out into the air with his head sunk on his breast, and there, 
 throwing himself down on the wet stones by the hearth, he 
 cried out: "Magdalen! dearest and purest! You, when you 
 ceased to be Glycera, became a jaintly martyr, and found the 
 road to heaven; I, too, had my day of Damascus of revelation 
 and conversion and I dared to call myself by the name of 
 Paulus -and now now?" Plunged in despair he beat his 
 forehead, groaning out, " All, all in vain!" 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 COMMON natures can only be lightly touched by the immeas- 
 urable depth of anguish that is experienced by a soul that de- 
 spairs of itself; but the more heavily the blow of such suffer- 
 ing falls, the more surely does it work with purifying power on 
 him who has to taste of that cup. 
 
 Paulus thought no more of the fair, sleeping woman; tort- 
 ured by acute remorse, he lay on the hard stones, feeling that 
 he had striven in vain. When he had taken Hermas's sin and 
 punishment and disgrace upon himself, it had seemed to him 
 that he was treading in the very footsteps of the Saviour. And 
 now? He felt like one who, while running for a prize, stum- 
 bles over a stone and grovels in the sand where he is already 
 close to the goal. 
 
 " God sees the will and not the deed," he muttered to him- 
 self. " What I did wrong with regard to Siroua or what I 
 did not do that matters not. When I leaned over her I had 
 fallen utterly and entirely into the power of the Evil One, and 
 was an ally of the deadliest enemy of Him to whom I had 
 dedicated my life and soul. Of what avail was my flight from 
 the world, and my useless sojourn in the desert? He Avho
 
 HOMO SUM. 3G3 
 
 always keeps out of the way of the battle can easily boast of 
 being unconquered to the end but is he therefore a hero? 
 The palm belongs to him who in the midst of the struggles 
 and affairs of the world clings to the heavenward road,, and 
 never lets himself be diverted from it; but as for me who walk 
 here alone, a woman and a boy cross my path, and one threat- 
 ens and the other beckons to me, and I forget my aim and 
 stumble into the bog of iniquity. And so I can not find no, 
 here I can not find what I strive after. But how then how? 
 Enlighten me, oh, Lord, and reveal to me what I must do. " 
 
 Thus thinking he rose, knelt down, and prayed fervently; 
 when at last he came to the " Amen/' his head was burning 
 and his tongue parched. 
 
 The clouds had parted, though they still hung in black 
 masses in the west; from time to time gleams of lightning 
 shone luridly on the horizon and lighted up the jagged peak of 
 mountain with a flare; the moon had risen, but its waning 
 disk was frequently obscured by dark driving masses of cloud; 
 blinding flashes, tender light, and utter darkness were alternat- 
 ing with bewildering rapidity, when Paulus at last collected 
 himself and went down to the spring to drink and to cool his 
 brow in the fresh water. Striding from stone to stone, he told 
 himself that ere he could begin a new life he must do penance 
 some heavy penance; but what was it to be? He was stand- 
 ing at the very margin of the brook, hemmed in by cliffs, 
 and was bending down to it, but before he had moistened his 
 lips he drew back; just because he was so thirsty he resolved 
 to deny himself drink. Hastily, almost vehemently, he turned 
 his back on the spring, and after this little victory over him- 
 self his storm-tossed heart seemed a little calmer. Far, far 
 from hence and from the wilderness and from the Sacred 
 Mountain he felt impelled to fly, and he would gladly have fled 
 then and there to a distance. Whither should he flee? It M-US 
 all the same, for he was in search of suffering, and suffering, 
 like weeds, grows on every road. And from whom? This 
 question repeated itself again and again as if he had shouted it 
 in the very home of echo, and the answer was not hard to find : 
 " It is from yourself that you would flee. It is your own in- 
 most self that is your enemy; bury yourself in what desert you 
 will, it will pursue you, and it would be easier for you to cut 
 off your shadow than to leave that behind." 
 
 His whole consciousness was absorbed by this sense of im- 
 potency, and now. after the stormy excitement of the last few 
 hours, the deepest depression took possession of his mind. Ex- 
 hausted, unstrung, full of loathing of himself and life, he sunk
 
 K54 HOMO SUM. 
 
 down on a stone and thought over the occurrences of the past 
 few days with perfect impartiality. 
 
 "Of all the fools that I ever met/' thought he, " I have 
 gone furthest in folly, and have thereby led things into a state 
 of confusion which I myself could not make straight again, 
 even if I were a sage which I certainly never shall be any 
 more than a tortoise or a phenix. I once heard tell of a her- 
 mit who, because it is written that we ought to bury the dead, 
 and because he had no corpse, slew a traveler that he might 
 fulfill the commandment; I have acted in exactly the same 
 way, for, in order to spare another man suffering, and to bear 
 the sins of another, I have plunged an innocent woman into 
 misery and made myself indeed a sinner. As soon as it is 
 light I will go down to the oasis and confess to Petrus and 
 Dorothea what I have done. They will punish me, and I will 
 honestly help them, so that nothing of the penance that they 
 may lay upon me may be remitted. The less mercy I show to 
 myself, the more the Eternal Judge will show to me." 
 
 He rose, considered the position of the stars, and when he 
 perceived that morning was not far off he prepared to return 
 to Sirona, who was no longer any more to him than an un- 
 happy woman to whom he owed reparation for much evil, when 
 a loud cry of distress in the immediate vicinity fell on his ear. 
 
 He mechanically stooped to pick up a stone for a weapon, 
 and listened. He knew every rock in the neighborhood of the 
 spring, and when the strange groan again made itself heard 
 he knew that it came from a spot which he knew well and 
 where he had often rested, because a large flat stone, siipport- 
 ed by a stout pillar of granite, stood up far above the surround- 
 ing rocks, and afforded protection from the sun, even at noon- 
 day, when not a hand's-breadth of shade was to be found 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Perhaps some wounded beast had crept under the rock for 
 shelter from the rain. Paulus went cautiously forward. The 
 groaning sounded louder and more distinct than before, and 
 beyond a doubt it was the voice of a human being. 
 
 The anchorite hastily threw away the stone, fell upon his 
 knees, and soon found on the dry spot of ground under the 
 stone, and in the furthermost nook of the retreat, a motion- 
 less human form. 
 
 " It is most likely a herdsman that has been struck by light- 
 ning," thought he, as he felt with his hands the curly head of 
 the sufferer, and the strong arms that now hung down power- 
 less. As he raised the injured man, who still uttered low 
 moans, and supported his head on his broad breast, the sweet
 
 HOAIO SUM. 1(J5 
 
 perfume of fine ointment was wafted to him from his hair, and 
 a fearful suspicion dawned upon his mind. 
 
 " Polykarp!" he cried, while he clasped his hands more 
 tightly round the body of the sufferer who, thus called upon, 
 moved and muttered a few intelligible words in a low tone, 
 but still much too clearly for Paulus, for he now knew for cer- 
 tain that he had guessed rightly. With a loud cry of horror ho 
 grasped the youth's powerless form, raised him in his arms, 
 and carried him like a child to the margin of the spring where 
 he laid his noble burden down in the moist grass; Polykarp 
 started and opened his eyes. 
 
 Morning was already dawning, the light clouds on the east- 
 ern horizon were already edged with rosy fringes, and the com- 
 ing day began to lift the dark veil from the forms and hues of 
 creation. 
 
 The young man recognized the anchorite, who with trem- 
 bling hands was washing the wound at the back of his head, 
 and his eye assumed an angry glare as he called up all his re- 
 maining strength and pushed his attendant from him. Paulus 
 did not withdraw; he accepted the blow from his victim as a 
 gift or a greeting, thinking, " Ay, and I only wish you had a 
 dagger in your hand; I would not resist you." 
 
 The artist's wound was frightfully wide and deep, but the 
 blood had flowed among his thick curls and had clotted over 
 the lacerated veins like a thick dressing. The water with 
 which Paulus now washed his head reopened them and re- 
 newed the bleeding, and after the one powerful effort with 
 which Polykarp pushed away his enemy he fell back senseless 
 in his arms. The wan morning light added to the pallor of 
 the bloodless countenance that lay with glazed eyes in, the an- 
 chorite's lap. 
 
 " He is dying!" murmured Paulus, in deadly anguish and 
 with choking breath, while he looked across the valley and up 
 to the heights, seeking help. The mountain rose in front of 
 him, its majestic mass glowing in the rosy dawn, while light 
 translucent vapor floated round the peak where the Lord Bad 
 written His laws for His chosen people, and for all peoples, on 
 tables of stone; it seemed to Paulus that he saw the giant form 
 of Moses far, far up on its sublimest height, and that from his 
 lips in brazen tones the strictest of all the commandments was 
 thundered down upon him with awful wrath, " Thou shalt not 
 kill!" 
 
 Paulus clasped his hands before his face in silent despair, 
 while his victim still lay in his lap. He had closed his eyes, 
 for he dared not look on the youth's pale countenance, and still
 
 1GG HOMO SUM. 
 
 less dared he look up at the mountain; but the brazen voice 
 from the height did not cease, and sounded louder and louder; 
 half beside himself with excitement, in his inward ear he heard 
 it still, " Thou shalt not kill!" and then again, " Thou shalt 
 not covet thy neighbor's wife!" a third time, "Thou shalt 
 not commit adultery!" and at last a fourth, " Thou shalt 
 have none other gods but Me!" 
 
 He that sins against one of those laws is damned; and he 
 he had broken them all, broken them while striving to tread 
 the thorny path to a life of blessedness. 
 
 Suddenly and wildly he threw his arms up to heaven, and 
 sighing deeply, gazed up at the sacred hill. 
 
 What was that? On the topmost peak of Sinai, whence the 
 Pharanite sentinels were accustomed to watch the distance, a 
 handkerchief was waving as a signal that the enemy were ap- 
 proaching. 
 
 He could not be mistaken, and as in the face of approaching 
 danger he collected himself and recovered his powers of thought 
 and deliberation, his ear distinctly caught the mighty floods of 
 stirring sound that came over the mountain from the brazen 
 cymbals struck by the watchmen to warn the inhabitants of 
 the oasis and the anchorites. 
 
 Was Hermas returned? Had the Blemmyes outstripped 
 him? From what quarter were the marauding hosts coming 
 on? Could he venture to remain here near his victim, or was 
 it his duty to use his powerful arms in defense of his helpless 
 companions? In agonized doubt he looked down at the 
 youth's pallid features, and deep, sorrowful compassion filled 
 his mind. 
 
 How promising was this young tree of humanity that his 
 rough fist had broken off! and these brown curls had only yes- 
 terday been stroked by a mother's hand. His eyes filled with 
 tears, and he bent as tenderly as a father might over the pale 
 face and pressed a gentle kiss on the bloodless lips of the 
 senseless youth. A thrill of joy shot through him, for Poly- 
 karp's lips were indeed not cold; he moved his hand, and now 
 the Lord be praised! he actually opened his e} 7 es. 
 
 " And I am not a murderer!" A thousand voices seemed 
 to sing with joy in his heart, and then he thought to himself: 
 
 " First I will carry him down to his parents in the oasis, and 
 then go up to the brethren." 
 
 But the brazen signals rang out with renewed power, and 
 the stillness of the holy wilderness was broken here by the 
 clatter of men's voices, there by a blast of trumpets, and there 
 again by stifled cries. It was as if a charm had given life to
 
 HOMO SUM. 167 
 
 the rocks and lent them voices; as if noise and clamor were 
 rushing like wild torrents down every gorge and cleft of the 
 mountain-side. 
 
 " It is too late/* sighed the anchorite. " If I only could 
 if I only knew ' 
 
 "Halloo! halloo! holy Paulus!" a shrill woman's voice, 
 which seemed to come from high up in the air, rang out joyful 
 and triumphant, interrupting the irresolute man's meditations. 
 " Hernias is alive! Hermas is here again! Only look up at 
 the heights. There flies the standard, for he has warned the 
 sentinels. The Blemmyes are coming on, and he sent me to 
 seek you. You must come to the strong tower on the western 
 side of the ravine. Make haste! come at once! Do you hear? 
 He told me to tell you. But the man in your lap it is yes, 
 it is" 
 
 " It is your master's sou Polykarp," Paulus called back to 
 her. " He is hurt unto death; hurry down to the oasis, and 
 tell the senator; tell Dame Dorothea " 
 
 " I have something else to do now," interrupted the shep- 
 herdess. " Hermas has sent me to warn Gelasius, Psoes, and 
 Dulas, and if I went down into the oasis they would lock me 
 up, and not let me come up the mountain again. What has 
 happened to the poor fellow? But it is all the same; there is 
 something else for you to do besides grieving over a hole in 
 Polykarp s head. Go up to the tower, I tell you, and let him 
 lie or carry him up with you into your new den, and hand 
 him over to your sweetheart to nurse. " 
 
 " Demon!'' exclaimed Paulus, taking up a stone. 
 
 " Let him lie!" repeated Miriam. " 1 will betray her hid- 
 ing-place to Phoabicius if you do not do as Hermas orders you. 
 Now I am off to call the others, and we shall meet again at 
 the tower. And you had better not linger too long with your 
 fair companion pious Paulus saintly Paulus!" 
 
 And laughing loudly, she sprung away from rock to rock as 
 if borne up by the air. 
 
 The Alexandrian looked wrathfully after her; but her advice 
 did not seem to be bad. He lifted the wounded man on his 
 shoulders, and hastily carried him up toward his cave; but be- 
 fore he could reach it he heard steps and a loud agonized 
 scream, and in a few seconds Sirona was by his side, crying, in 
 
 gissionate grief: "It is he, it is he and oh, to see him thus! 
 ut he must live, for if he were dead your God of Love would 
 be inexorable, pitiless, hard, cruel it would be 
 
 She would say no more, for tears choked her voice, and 
 Paulus, without listening to her lamentation, passed quickly
 
 1G8 HOMO SUM. 
 
 on in front of her, entered the cave and laid the unconscious 
 man down on the couch, saying gravely but kindly, as Sirona 
 threw herself on her knees and pressed the young man's power- 
 less hand to her lips: 
 
 " If indeed you truly love him, cease crying and lamenting. 
 He yesterday got a severe wound on his head; I have washed 
 it; now do you bind it up with care and keep it constantly 
 cool with fresh water. You know your way to the spring; 
 when he recovers his senses rub his feet, and give him some 
 bread and a few drops of the wine which you will find in the 
 little cellar hard by; there is some oil there, too, which you will 
 need for a light. 
 
 " I must go up to the brethren, and if I do not return to- 
 morrow give the poor lad over to his mother to nurse. Only 
 tell her this, that I, Paulus, gave him this wound in a moment 
 of rage, and to forgive me if she can, she and Petrus. And 
 you, too, forgive me that in which I have sinned against you, and 
 if I should fall in the battle which awaits us, pray that the 
 Lord may not be too hard upon me in the day of judgment, 
 for my sins are great and many. " 
 
 At this moment the sound of trumpets sounded even 
 into the deepest recess of the cave. Sirona started. " That 
 is the Roman tuba/' she exclaimed. "I know the sound 
 Phoebicius is coming this way. " 
 
 " He is doing his duty," replied Paulus. " And still, one 
 thing more. I saw last night a ring on your hand an onyx. " 
 
 " There it lies/' said Sirona; and she pointed to the furthest 
 corner of the cave, where it lay on the dusty soil. 
 
 " Let it remain there," Paulus begged of her; he bent over 
 the senseless man once more to kiss his forehead, raised his 
 hand toward Sirona in sign of blessing, and rushed out into 
 the open air. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Two paths led over the mountain from the oasis to the sea; 
 both followed steep and stony gorges, one of which was named 
 the "shortcut," because the traveler reached his destination 
 more quickly by that road than by following the better road in 
 the other ravine, which was practicable for beasts of burden. 
 Half-way up the height the " short cut " opened out on a lit- 
 tle plateau, whose western side was shut in by a high mass of 
 rock with steep and precipitous flanks. At the top of this rock 
 stood .a tower built of rough blocks, in which the anchorites
 
 HOMO SUM. 109 
 
 were wout to take refuge when they were threatened with a 
 descent of their foes. 
 
 The position of this castle as the penitents proudly styled 
 their tower was well chosen, for from its summit they com- 
 manded not only the " short cut " to the oasis, but also the 
 narrow shell-strewn strip of desert which divided the western 
 declivity of the Holy Mountain from the shore, the blue-green 
 waters of the sea, and the distant chain of hills on the African 
 coast. 
 
 Whatever approached the tower, whether from afar or from 
 the neighborhood, was at once espied by them, and the side of 
 the rock which was turned to the road -way was so precipitous 
 a^nd smooth that it remained inaccessible even to the natives of 
 the desert, who, with their naked feet and sinewy arms, could 
 climb points which even the wild goat and the jackal made a 
 circuit to avoid. It was more accessible from the other side, 
 and in order to secure that, a very strong wall had been built, 
 which inclosed the level on which the castle stood in the form 
 of a horseshoe, of which the ends abutted on the declivity of 
 the short road. This structure was so roughly and inartistic- 
 ally heaped together that it looked as if formed by nature 
 rather than by the hand of man. The rough and unfinished 
 appearance of this wall-like heap of stones was heightened by 
 the quantity of large and small pieces of granite which were 
 piled on the top of it, and which had been collected by the an- 
 chorites, in case of an incursion, to roll and hurl down on the 
 invading robbers. A cistern had been dug out of the rocky 
 soil of the plateau which the wall inclosed, and care was taken 
 to keep it constantly filled with water. 
 
 Such precautions were absolutely necessary, for the anchor- 
 ites were threatened with dangers from two sides. First from 
 the Ishmaelite hordes of Saracens who fell upon them from the 
 east, and secondly from the Blemmyes, the wild inhabitants 
 of the desert country which borders the fertile lands of Egypt 
 and Nubia, and particularly of the barren highlands that part 
 the Red Sea from the Nile valley. They crossed the sea in light 
 skiffs, and then poured over the mountain like a swarm of 
 locusts. 
 
 The little stores and savings which the defenseless hermits 
 treasured in their caves had tempted the Blemmyes again and 
 again, in spite of the Roman garrison in Pharan, which usually 
 made its appearance oji the scene of their incursion long after 
 they had disappeared with their scanty booty. Not many 
 months since, the raid had been effected in which old Stephanus 
 had been wounded by an arrow, and there was every reason to
 
 170 HOMO SUM. 
 
 hope that the wild marauders would not return very soon, for 
 Phoebicius, the commander of the Roman maniple in the oasis, 
 was swift and vigorous in his office, and though he had not 
 succeeded in protecting the anchorites from all damage, he 
 had followed up the Blemmyes, who fled at his approach, and 
 cut them off from rejoining their boats. A battle took place 
 between the barbarians and the Romans, not far from the 
 coast on the desert tract dividing the hills from the sea, which 
 resulted in the total annihilation of the wild tribes and gave 
 ground to hope that such a lesson might serve as a warning to 
 the sons of the desert. But if hitherto the more easily quelled 
 promptings of covetousness had led them to cross the sea, they 
 were now animated by the most sacred of all duties, by the 
 law which required them to avenge the blood of their fathers 
 and brothers, and they dared to plan a fresh incursion in 
 which they should put forth all their resources. They were at 
 the same time obliged to exercise the greatest caution, and col- 
 lected their forces of young men in the valleys that lay hidden 
 in the long range of coast hills. 
 
 The passage of the narrow arm of the sea that parted them 
 from Arabia Petraea was to be effected in the first dark night; 
 the sun, this evening, had set behind heavy storm-clouds that 
 had discharged themselves in violent rain and had obscured the 
 light of the waning moon. So they drew their boats and rafts 
 down to the sea, and, unobserved by the sentinels on the 
 mountain who had taken shelter from the storm under their 
 little pent-houses, they would have reached the opposite shore, 
 the mountain, and perhaps even the oasis, if some one had not 
 warned the anchorites and that some one was Hermas. 
 
 Obedient to the commands of Paulus, the lad had appropri- 
 ated three of his f riend's gold pieces, had provided himself with 
 a bow and arrows and some bread, and then, after muttering 
 a farewell to his father, who was asleep in his cave, he set out 
 for Raithu. Happy in the sense of his strength and manhood, 
 proud of the task which had been set him and which he deemed 
 worthy of a future soldier, and cheerfully ready to fulfill it 
 even at the cost of his life, he hastened forward in the bright 
 moonlight. He quitted the path at the spot where, to render 
 the ascent possible, even to the vigorous desert-travelers, it 
 took a zigzag line, and clambered from rock to rock, up and 
 down, in a direct line. When he came to a level spot he flew 
 on as if pursuers were at his heels. After sunrise he refreshed 
 himself with a morsel of food, and then hurried on again, not 
 heeding the heat of noon, nor that of the soft sand in which his 
 foot sunk as he followed the line of the sea-coast.
 
 HOMO SUM. 171 
 
 Thus passionately hurrying onward, he thought neither of 
 Sirona nor of his past life only of the hills on the further 
 shore and of the Blemmyes how he should best surprise them, 
 and, when he had learned their plans, how he might recross 
 the sea and return to his own people. At last, as he got more 
 and more weary, as the heat of the sun grew more oppressive, 
 and as the blood rushed more painfully to his heart and began 
 to throb more rapidly in his temples, he lost all power of 
 thought, and that which dwelt in his mind was no more than 
 a dumb longing to reach his destination as soon as possible. 
 
 It was the third afternoon when he saw from afar the palms 
 of Raithu, and hurried 011 with revived strength. Before the 
 sun had set he had informed the anchorite, to whom Paulus 
 had directed him, that the Alexandrian declined their* call, and 
 was minded to remain on the Holy Mountain. 
 
 Then Hernias proceeded to the little harbor, to bargain with 
 the fishermen of the place for the boat which he needed. 
 While he was talking with an old Amalekite boatman, who, 
 with his black-eyed, sons, was arranging his nets, two riders 
 came at a quick pace toward the bay in which a large mer- 
 chant ship lay at anchor, surrounded by little barks. The 
 fisherman pointed to it. 
 
 "It is waiting for the caravan from Petraea," he said. 
 " There, on the dromedary, is the emperor's great warrior 
 who commands the Romans in Pharau. " 
 
 Hernias saw Phoebicius for the first time, and as he rode up 
 toward him and the fisherman he started; if he had followed 
 his first impulse, he would have turned and have taken to 
 flight, but his clear eyes had met the dull and yet searching 
 glance of the centurion, and, blushing at his own weakness, he 
 stood still with his arms crossed, and proudly and defiantly 
 awaited the Gaul, who with his companion came straight up to 
 him. 
 
 Talib had previously seen the youth by his father's side; he 
 recognized him and asked how long he had been there, and if 
 he had come direct from the mountain. Hernias answered 
 him as was becoming, and understood, at once that it was not 
 he that the centurion was seeking. 
 
 Perfectly reassured and not without curiosity he looked at 
 the new-comer, and a smile curled his lips as he observed that 
 the lean old man, exhausted by his long and hurried ride, could 
 scarcely hold himself on his beast, and at the same time it 
 struck him that this pitiable old man 'was the husband of the 
 blooming and youthful Sirona. Far from feeling any remorse 
 for his intrusion into this man's house, he yielded entirely to
 
 17*2 HOMO SUM. 
 
 the audacious humor with which his aspect filled him, and 
 when Phoebicius himself asked him as to whether he had not 
 met on his way with a fair-haired woman and a limping grey- 
 hound, he replied, repressing his laughter with difficulty: 
 
 " Ay, indeed! I did see such a woman and her dog, but I 
 do not think it was lame." 
 
 " Where did you see her?" asked Phoebicius, hastily. 
 
 Hermas colored, for he was obliged to tell an untruth, and 
 it might be that he would do Sirona an injury by giving false 
 information. He therefore ventured to give no decided an- 
 swer, but inquired : 
 
 " Has the woman committed some crime, that you are pur- 
 suing her?" 
 
 " A great one!" replied Talib. "She is my lord's wife, 
 and " 
 
 " What she has done wrong concerns me alone," said Phoebi- 
 cius, sharply interrupting his companion. " I hope this fellow 
 saw better than you who took the crying woman with a child, 
 from Aila, for Sirona. What is your name, boy?" 
 
 " Hermas," answered the lad. " And who are you, pray?" 
 
 The Gaul's lips were parted for an angry reply, but he sup- 
 pressed it, and said : 
 
 " I am the emperor's centurion, and I ask you, what did 
 the woman look like whom you saw, and where did you meet 
 her?" 
 
 The soldier's fierce looks and his captain's words showed 
 Hermas that the fugitive woman had nothing good to expect if 
 she were caught, and as he was not in the least inclined to as- 
 sist her pursuers he hastily replied, giving the reins to his 
 audacity, " I at any rate did not meet the person whom you 
 seek; the woman I saw is certainly not this man's wife, for she 
 might very well be his granddaughter. She had gold hair 
 and a rosy face, and the greyhound that followed her was 
 called lambe." 
 
 " Where did you meet her?" shrieked the centurion. 
 
 " In the fishing-village at the foot of the mountain," replied 
 Hermas. " She got into a boat, and away it went!" 
 
 " Toward the north?" asked the Gaul. 
 
 " I think so," replied Hermas, " but I do not know, for I 
 was in a hurry and could not look after her. " 
 
 " Then we will try to take her in Klysma," cried Phcebicius 
 to the Amalekite. " If only there were horses in this accursed 
 desert!" 
 
 " It is four days' journey," said Talib, considering. " And
 
 HOMO SUM. 173 
 
 beyond Elim there is no water before the Wells of Moses. Cer- 
 tainly if we could get good dromedaries ' 
 
 " And if/' interrupted Hernias, " it were not better that 
 you, my lord centurion, should not go so far from the oasis. 
 For over there they say that the Blemmyes are gathering, and 
 I myself am going across as a spy so soon as it is dark." 
 
 Phcebicius looked down gloomily, considering the matter. 
 The news had reached him, too, that the sous of the desert were 
 preparing for a new incursion, and he cried to Talib, angrily 
 but decidedly, as he turned his back upon Hermas, " You must 
 ride alone to Klysma, arid try to capture her. I can not and 
 will not neglect my duty for the sake of a wretched woman. " 
 
 Hermas looked after him as he went away, and laughed out 
 loud when he saw him disappear into his inn. He liired a boat 
 from the old man for his passage across the sea for one of the 
 gold pieces given him by Paulus, and lying down on the nets 
 he refreshed himself by a deep sleep of some hours' duration. 
 When the moon rose he was roused in obedience to his orders, 
 and helped the boy who accompanied him, and who understood 
 the management of the sails and rudder, to push the boat, 
 which was laid up on the sand, down into the sea. Soon ho 
 was flying over the smooth and glistening waters before a light 
 wind, and he felt as fresh and strong in spirit as a young eagle 
 that has just left the nest and spreads its mighty wings for the 
 first time. He could have shouted in his new and delicious 
 sense of freedom, and the boy at the stern shook his head in 
 astonishment when he saw Hermas wield the oars he had in- 
 trusted to him, unskillf ully it is true, but with mighty strokes. 
 
 " The wind is in our favor," he called out to the anchorite 
 as he hauled round the sail with a rope in his hand; " we shall 
 get on without your working so hard. You may save your 
 strength. " 
 
 " There is plenty of it, and I need not be stingy of it," an- 
 swered Hermas, and he bent forward for another powerful 
 stroke. 
 
 About half-way he took a rest, and admired the reflection of 
 the moon in the bright mirror of the water, and he could not 
 but think of Petrus's court-yard that had shone in the same 
 silvery light when he had climbed up to Sirona's window.. 
 The image of the fair, white-armed woman recurred to his 
 mind, and a melancholy longing began to creep over him. 
 
 He sighed softly again and yet again; but as his breast 
 heaved for the third bitter sigh, he remembered the object of 
 his journey and his broken fetters, and with eager arrogance 
 he struck the oar flat on to the water so that it spurted high
 
 174 HOMO SUM. 
 
 up and sprinkled the boat and him with a shower of wet and 
 twinkling diamond-drops. He began to work the oars again, 
 reflecting as he did so that he had something better to do than 
 to think of a woman. Indeed, he found it easy to forget 
 Sirona completely, for in the next few days he went through 
 every excitement in a warrior's life. 
 
 Scarcely two hours after his start from Eaithu he was stand- 
 ing on the soil of another continent, and, after finding a hid- 
 ing-place for his boat, he slipped oif among the hills to watch 
 the movements of the Blemmyes. The very first day he went 
 up to the valley in which they were gathering; on the second, 
 after being many times seen and pursued, he succeeded in 
 seizing a warrior who had been sent out to recomioiter, and in 
 carrying him off with him; he bound him, and by heavy 
 threats learned many things from him. 
 
 The number of their collected enemies was great, but Her- 
 mas had hopes of outstripping them, for his prisoner revealed 
 to him the spot where their boats, drawn up on shore, lay hid- 
 den under the sand and stones. 
 
 As soon as it was dusk the anchorite in his boat went toward 
 the place of embarkation, and when the Blemmyes, in the 
 darkness of midnight, drew their first bark into the water, 
 Hernias sailed off ahead of the enemy, landed in much danger 
 before the western declivity of the mountain, and hastened up 
 toward Sinai to warn the Pharaiiite watchmen on the beacon. 
 
 He gained the top of the difficult peak before sunrise, roused 
 the lazy sentinels who had left their post, and before they were 
 able to mount guard, to hoist the flags or begin to sound the 
 brazen cymbals, he had hurried on down the valley to his 
 father's cave. 
 
 Since his disappearance Miriam had incessantly hovered round 
 Stephanus's dwelling, and had fetched fresh water for the 
 old man every morning, noon and evening, even after a new 
 nurse, who was clumsier and more peevish, had taken Paulus's 
 place. She lived on roots and on the bread the sick man gave 
 her, and at night she lay down to sleep in a deep dry cleft of 
 the rock that she had long known well. She quitted her hard 
 bed before day-break to refill the old man's pitcher and to chat- 
 ter to him about Hermas. 
 
 She was a willing servant to Stephanus because, as often as 
 she went to him, she could hear his son's name from his lips, 
 and he rejoiced at her coming because she always gave him the 
 opportunity of talking of Hermas. 
 
 For many weeks the sick man had been so accustomed to let 
 himself be waited on that he accepted the shepherdess's good
 
 HOMO SUM. 175 
 
 offices as a matter of course, and she never attempted to ac- 
 count to herself for her readiness to serve him. Stephanus 
 would have suffered in dispensing with her, and to her, her 
 visits to the well and her conversations with the old man had 
 become a need, nay, a necessity, for she still wa"is ignorant 
 whether Hernias was yet alive, or whether Phcebicius had killed 
 him in consequence ofJier betrayal. Perhaps all that Stephanus 
 told her of his son's journey of investigation was an invention 
 of Paulus to spare the sick man, and accustom him gradually 
 to the loss of his child; and yet she was only too willing to be- 
 lieve that Hermas still lived, and she quitted the neighborhood 
 of the cave as late as possible, and filled the sick man's water- 
 jar before the sun was up, only because she said to herself that 
 the fugitive on his return would seek no one else so soon as his 
 father. 
 
 She had not one really quiet moment, for if a falling stone, 
 an approaching footstep, or the cry of a beast broke the still- 
 ness of the desert she at once hid herself, and listened with a , 
 beating heart; much less from fear of Petrus her master, from 
 whom she had run away, than in the expectation of hearing 
 the step of the man whom she had betrayed into the hand of 
 his enemy, and for whom she nevertheless painfully longed day 
 and night. 
 
 As often as she lingered by the spring she wetted her stub- 
 born hair to smoothe it, and washed her face with as much zeal 
 as if she thought she should succeed in washing the dark hue 
 out of her skin. And all this she did for him, that on his re- 
 turn she might charm him as much as the white woman in the 
 oasis, whom she hated as fiercely as she loved him passionately. 
 
 During the heavy storm of last night a torrent from the 
 mountain height had shed itself into her reti'eat and driven her 
 out of it. Wet through, shelterless, tormented by remorse, 
 fear and longing, she had clambered from stone to stone, and 
 sought refuge and peace under first one rock, and then another; 
 thus she had been attracted by the glimmer of light that shone 
 out of the new dwelling of the pious Paulus; she had seen and 
 recognized the Alexandrian, but he had not observed her as 
 he cowered on the ground near his hearth, deeply sunk in 
 thought. 
 
 She knew now where the excommunicated man dwelt after 
 whom Stephanus often asked, and she had gathered from the 
 old man's lamentations and dark hints that Paulus, too, had 
 been insnared and brought to ruin by her enemy. 
 
 As the morning star began to pale Miriam went up to 
 Stephanus's cave; her heart was full of tears, and yet she was
 
 176 HOMO SUM. 
 
 unable to pour out her need and suffering in a soothing flood 
 of weeping; she was wholly possessed with a wild desire to sink 
 down on the earth there and die, and to be released by death 
 from her relentless, driving torment. But it was still too early 
 to disturb the old man and yet she must hear a human 
 voice, one word 'even if it were a hard word from the lips of 
 a human being; for the bewildering feeling of distraction 
 which confused her mind, and the misery of abandonment that 
 crushed her heart were all too cruelly painful to be borne. 
 
 She was standing by the entrance to the cave when, high 
 above her head, she heard the falling of stones and the cry of 
 a human voice. She started and listened with outstretched 
 neck and strung smews, motionless. Then she broke sud- 
 denly into a loud and piercing shout of joy, and flinging up 
 her arms she flew up the mountain toward a traveler who 
 came swiftly down to meet her. 
 
 " Hernias! Hennas!" she shouted, and all the sunny delight 
 of her heart was reflected in her cry so clearly and purely that 
 the sympathetic chords in the young man's soul echoed the 
 sound, and he hailed her with joyf ul welcome. 
 
 He had never before greeted her thus, and the tone of his 
 voice revived her poor crushed heart like a restorative draught 
 offered by a tender hand to the lips of the dying. Exquisite 
 delight and a glow of gratitude such as she had never before 
 felt flooded her soul, and as he was so good to her she longed 
 to show him that she had something to offer in return for the 
 gift of friendship which he offered her. So the first thing she 
 said to Mm was, " I have stayed constantly near your father, 
 and have brought him water early and late, as much as he 
 needed. " 
 
 She blushed as she thus for the first time praised herself to 
 him, but Hennas exclaimed: 
 
 " That is a good girl! and I will not forget it. You are a 
 wild, silly thing, but I believe that you are to be relied on by 
 those to whom you feel kindly." 
 
 " Only try ine," cried Miriam, holding out her hand to him. 
 He took it, and as they went on together he said : 
 
 " Do you hear the brass? I have warned the watchmen up 
 there; the Blemmyes are coming. Is Paulus with my father?" 
 
 " No, but I know where he is." 
 
 " Then you must call him," said the young man. " Him 
 first and then Gelasius, and Psoes, and I)ulas, and any more 
 of the penitents that you can find. They must all go to the 
 castle by the ravine. Now I will go to my father; you hurry 
 on and show that you are to be trusted. " As he spoke he put
 
 HOMO SUM. 177 
 
 his arm round her waist, but she slipped shyly away, and, call- 
 ing out: " I will take them all the message/' she hurried off. 
 
 In front of the cave where she had hoped to meet with 
 Paulus she found Sirona; she did not stop with her, but con- 
 tented herself with laughing and calling, out words of abuse. 
 
 Guided by the idea that she should find the Alexandrian at 
 the nearest well, she went on and called him, then hurrying on 
 from cave to cave she delivered her message in Hermas's name, 
 happy to serve him. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THEY were all collected behind the rough wall on the edge 
 of the ravine the strange men who had turned their back on 
 life with all its joys and pains, its duties and its delights, on 
 the community and family to which they belonged, and had 
 fled to the desert, there to strive for a prize above and beyond 
 this life, when they had of their own i'reo will renounced all 
 other effort. In the voiceless desert, far from the enticing 
 echoes of the world, it might be easy to kill every sensual im- 
 pulse, to throw off the fetters of the world, and so bring that 
 humanity, which was bound to the dust through sis-and the 
 flesh, nearer to the pure and incorporate being of the Divinity. 
 
 All these men were Christians, and, like the Saviour, who 
 had freely taken torments upon Himself to become the 1 Re- 
 deemer, they, too, sought through the purifying power of suffer- 
 ing to free themselves from the dross of their impure human 
 nature, and by severe penance to contribute their share of 
 atonement for their own guilt, and for that of all their race. 
 No fear of persecution had driven them into the desert noth- 
 ing but the hope of gaining the hardest of victories. 
 
 All the anchorites who had been summoned to the tower 
 were Egyptians and Syrians^ and among the former particu- 
 larly there were many who, being already inured to abstinence 
 and penance in the service of the old gods in their own coun- 
 try, now as Christians had selected as the scene of their pious 
 exercises the very spot where the Lord must have revealed 
 Himself to His elect. 
 
 At a later date not merely Sinai itself, but the whole tract 
 of Arabia Petraea through which, as it was said, the Jews at 
 their exodus under Moses had wandered was peopled with 
 ascetics of like mind, who gave to their settlements the names 
 of the resting-places of the chosen people, .as mentioned in the 
 Scriptures; but as yet there was no connection between the 
 individual peintents, no order ruled their lives; they might
 
 178 HOMO SUM. 
 
 still be counted by tens, though ere long they numbered hun- 
 dreds and thousands. 
 
 The threat of danger had brought all these contemners of 
 the world and of life in stormy haste to the shelter of the tower, 
 in spite of their readiness to die. Only old Kosmas, who had 
 withdrawn to the desert with his wife she had found a grave 
 there had remained in his cave, and had declared to Gelasius, 
 who shared his cave and who had urged him to flight, that he 
 was content in whatever place or whatever hour the Lord should 
 call him, and that it was in God's hands to decide whether old 
 age or an arrow-shot should open to him the gates of heaven. 
 
 It was quite otherwise with the rest of the anchorites, who 
 rushed through the narrow door of the watch-tower and into 
 its inner room till it was filled to overflowing, and Paulus, 
 who in the presence of danger had fully recovered his equan- 
 imity, was obliged to refuse admission to a new-comer in order 
 to preserve the closely packed and trembling crowd from in- 
 jury. 
 
 No murrain passes from beast to beast, no mildew from 
 fruit with such rapidity as fear spreads from man to man. 
 Those who had been driven by the sharpest lashings of terror 
 had run the fastest and reached the castle first. They had 
 received those who followed them with lamentation and out- 
 cries, and it was a pitiable sight to see how the terrified crowd, 
 in the midst of their loud declarations of resignation to God's 
 guidance and their pious prayers, wrung their hands, and at 
 the same time how painfully anxious each one was to hide the 
 little property he had saved first from the disapproval of his 
 companions, and then from the covetousness of the approach- 
 ing enemy. 
 
 With Paulus came Sergius and Jeremias, to whom, on the 
 way, he had spoken words of encouragement. All three did 
 their utmost to revive the confidence of the terrified men, and 
 when the Alexandrian reminded them how zealously each of 
 them only a few weeks since had helped to roll the blocks and 
 stones from the wall, and down the precipice, so as to crush 
 and slay the advancing enemy, the feeling was strong in many 
 of them that, as he had already proved himself worthy in de- 
 fense, it was due to him now to make him their leader. 
 
 The number of the men who rushed out of the tower was 
 increasing, and when Hermas appeared with his father on his 
 back and followed by Miriam, and when Paulus exhorted his 
 companions to be edified by this pathetic picture of filial love, 
 curiosity tempted even the last loiterers in the tower out into 
 the open space.
 
 HOMO SUM. 179 
 
 The Alexandrian sprung over the wall, wenf'up to Stephanus, 
 lifted him from the shoulders of the panting youth, and, taking 
 him on his own, carried him toward the tower; but the old 
 warrior refused to enter the place of refuge, and begged his 
 friend to lay him down by the wall. Paulus obeyed his wish 
 and then went with Hermas to the top of the tower to spy the 
 distance from thence. 
 
 As soon as he had quitted him, Stephanus turned to the an- 
 chorites who stood near him, saying : 
 
 " These stones are loose, and though my strength is indeed 
 small, still it is great enough to send one of them over with a 
 push. If it comes to a battle my old soldier's eyes, dim as 
 they are now, may with the help of yours see many things that 
 may be useful to you, young ones. Above all things, if the 
 game is to be a hot one for the robbers, one must command 
 here whom the others will obey." 
 
 " It shall be you, father," interrupted Salathiel the Syrian. 
 " You have served in Caesar's army, and you proved your 
 courage and knowledge of war in the last raid. You shall 
 command us." 
 
 Stephanus sadly shook his head, and replied: " My voice is 
 becoming too weak and low since this wound in my breast and 
 my long illness. Not even those who stand nearest to me 
 would understand me in the noise of battle. Let Paulus be 
 your captain, for he is strong, cautious, and brave. " 
 
 Many of the anchorites had long looked upon the Alexandrian 
 as their best stay; for many years he had enjoyed the respect 
 of all, and on a thousand occasions had given proof of his 
 strength and presence of mind, but at this proposal they looked 
 at each other in surprise, doubt and disapproval. 
 
 Stephanus saw what was passing in their minds. 
 
 " It is true he has erred gravely," he said. " And before 
 God he is the least of the least among us; but in animal 
 strength and indomitable courage he is superior to you all. 
 Which of you would be willing to take his place, if you reject 
 his guidance?" 
 
 " Orion the Saite," cried one of the anchorites, " is tall and 
 strong. If he would " 
 
 But Orion eagerly excused himself from assuming the dan- 
 gerous office, and when Andreas and Joseph also refused with 
 no less decision the leadership that was offered them, Stephanus 
 said: 
 
 ' You see, there is no choice left us but to beg the Alex- 
 andrian to command us here so long as the robbers threaten 
 us, and no longer. There he comes shall I ask him?"
 
 180 HOMO SUM. 
 
 A murmur of consent, though by no means of satisfaction, 
 answered the old man, and Paulus, quite carried away by liis 
 eagerness to stake his life and blood for the protection of the 
 weak and fevered with a soldier's ardor, accepted Stephanus's 
 commission as a matter of course,, and set to work like a gen- 
 eral to organize the helpless wearers of sheep-skin. 
 
 Some he sent to the top of the tower to keep watch, others 
 lie charged with the transport of the stones; to a third party 
 he intrusted the duty of hurling pieces of rock and blocks of 
 stone down into the abyss in the moment of danger; he re- 
 quested the weaker brethren to assemble themselves together, 
 to pray for the others and to sing hymns of praise, and he con- 
 certed signs and pass- words with all; he was now here, now 
 there, and his energy and confidence infused themselves even 
 into the faint-hearted. 
 
 In the midst of these arrangements Hernias took leave of 
 him and of his father, for he heard the Roman war-trumpets 
 and the Ylrums of the young manhood of Pharan, as they 
 marched through the short cut to meet the enemy. He 
 knew where the main strength of the Blemmyes lay and com- 
 municated this knowledge to the centurion Phcebicius and the 
 captain of the Pharanites. The Gaul put a few short questions 
 to Hernias, whom he recognized immediately, for since he had 
 met him at the harbor of llaithu he could not forget his eyes, 
 which, reminded him of those of Glycera; and after receiving 
 his hasty and decided answers he issued rapid and prudent 
 orders. 
 
 A third of the Pharanites were to march forward against the 
 enemy, drumming and trumpeting, and then retreat as far as 
 the watch-tower as the enemy approached over the plain. Jf 
 the Blemmyes allowed themselves to be tempted thither, a 
 second third of the warriors of the oasis, that could easily lie in 
 ambush in a cross valley, were to fall on their left flank, while 
 Phcebicius and his maniple hidden behind the rock on which 
 the castle stood would suddenly rush out and so decide the 
 battle. The last third of the Pharanites had orders to destroy 
 the ships of the invaders under the command of Hernias, who 
 knew the spot where they had landed. 
 
 In the worst case the centurion and his men could retreat 
 into the castle, and there defend themselves till the warriors of 
 the nearest sea-ports whither messengers were already on their 
 way should come to the rescue. 
 
 The Gaul's orders were immediately obeyed, and Hermas 
 walked at the head of the division intrusted to him, as proud 
 and as self-possessed as any of Caesar's veterans leading his
 
 HOMO SUM. 181 
 
 legion into the field. He carried a bow and arrows at his back, 
 and in his hand a battle-ax that he had bought at Kaithu. 
 
 Miriam attempted to follow the troops he was leading, but 
 he observed her, and called out, " Go up to the fort, child, to 
 my father." And the shepherdess obeyed without hesitation. 
 
 The anchorites had all crowded to the edge of the precipice; 
 they looked at the division of the forces, and signed and shout- 
 ed down. They had hoped that some part of the fighting men 
 would be joined to them for their defense, but, as they soon 
 learned, they had hoped in vain. Stephanus, whose feeble 
 sight could not reach so far as the plain at the foot of the de- 
 clivity, made Paulus report to him all that was going on there, 
 and with the keen insight of a soldier he comprehended the 
 centurion's plan. The troop led by Hernias passed by below 
 the tower, and the youth waved and shouted a greeting up to 
 his father. Stephanus, whose hearing remained sharper than 
 his sight, recognized his son's voice and took leave of him with 
 tender and loving words in as loud a voice as he could com- 
 mand. Paulus collected all the overflow of the old man's heart 
 in one sentence, and called out his blessings through his two 
 hands as a speaking-trumpet after his friend's son as he de- 
 parted to battle. Hennas understood; but deeply as he was 
 touched by this farewell he answered only by dumb signs. A 
 father can find a hundred words of blessing sooner than a son 
 can find one of thanks. 
 
 As the youth disappeared behind the rocks, Paulus said: 
 
 " He marches on like an experienced soldier, and the others 
 follow him as sheep follow a ram. But hark! Certainly the 
 foremost division of the Pharanites and the enemy have met. 
 The outcry comes nearer and nearer. " 
 
 " Then all will be well," cried Stephanus, excitedly. " If 
 they only take the bait and let themselves be drawn on to the 
 plateau I think they are lost. From here we can watch the 
 whole progress of the battle, and if our side is driven back it 
 may easily happen that they will throw themselves into the 
 castle. Now not a pebble must be thrown in vain, for if our 
 tower becomes the central point of the struggle, the defenders 
 will need stories to fling. 
 
 These words were heard by several of the anchorites, and as 
 now the war-cries and the noise of the fight came nearer and 
 nearer, and one and another repeated to each other that their 
 place of refuge would become the center of the combat, the 
 frightened penitents quitted the posts assigned to them by 
 Paulus, ran hither and thither in spite of the Alexandrian's 
 severe prohibition, and most of them at last joined the com-
 
 1S2 HOMO SUM. 
 
 pany of the old and feeble, whose psalms grew more and more 
 lamentable as danger pressed closer upon them. 
 
 Loudest of all was the wailing of the Saite Orion, who cried, 
 with uplifted hands: 
 
 "What wilt Thou of us miserable creatures, oh, Lord? 
 When Moses left Thy chosen people on this very spot for only 
 forty days, they at once fell away from Thee; and we, we with- 
 out any leader have spent all our life in Thy service, and have 
 given up all that can rejoice the heart, and have taken every 
 kind of suffering upon us to please Thee! and now these hid- 
 eous heathens are surging round us again, and will kill us. Is 
 this the reward of victory for our striving and our long 
 wrestling?" 
 
 The rest joined in the lamentation of the Saite, but Paulus 
 stepped into their midst, blamed them for their cowardice, and 
 with warm and urgent speech implored them to return to their 
 posts, so that the wall might be guarded at least on the eastern 
 and more accessible side, and that the castle might not fall an 
 easy prey into the hands of an enemy from whom no quarter 
 was to be expected. Some of the anchorites were already pro- 
 ceeding to obey the Alexandrian's injunction, when a fearful 
 cry, the war-cry of the Blemmyes, who were in pursuit of the 
 Pharanites, rose from the foot of their rock of refuge. 
 
 They crowded together again in terror; Salathiel the Syrian 
 had ventured to the edge 61 the abyss, and had looked over old 
 Stephanus's shoulder down into the hollow, and when he 
 rushed back to his companions, crying in terror: " Our men 
 are flying!" Gelasius shrieked aloud, beat his breast, and tore 
 his rough black hair, crying out: 
 
 " Oh, Lord God, what wilt Thou of us? Is it vain then to 
 strike after righteousness and virtue that Thou givest us over 
 unto death, and does not fight for us? If we are overcome by 
 the heathen, ungodliness and brute force will boast themselves 
 as though they had won the victory over righteousness and 
 truth!" 
 
 Paulus had turned from the lamenting hermits, perplexed 
 and beside himself, and stood with Stephanus watching the 
 fight. 
 
 The Blemmyes had come in great numbers, and their attack, 
 before which the Pharanites were to have retired as a feint, fell 
 with such force upon the foremost division that they and their 
 comrades, who had rushed to their aid on the plateau, were 
 unable to resist it, arid were driven back as far as the spot 
 where the ravine narrowed. 
 
 " Things are not as they should be/' said Stephanus.
 
 HOMO SUM. 183 
 
 " And the cowardly band, like a drove of cattle/' cried 
 Paul us, in a fury, " leave the walls unprotected, and blaspheme 
 God instead of watching or fighting." 
 
 The anchorites noticed his gestures, which were indeed those 
 of a desperate man, and Sergius exclaimed: 
 
 " Are we then wholly abandoned? Why does not the thorn- 
 bush light its fires and destroy the evil-doers with its flames? 
 Why is the thunder silent, and where are the lightnings that' 
 played round the peak of Sinai? Why does not darkness fall 
 upon us to affright the heathen? Why does not the earth open 
 her mouth to swallow them up like the company of Korah?" 
 
 " The might of God," cried Dulas, " tarries too long. The 
 Lord must set our piety in a doubtful light, for He treats us as 
 though we were unworthy of all care. " 
 
 " And that you are!" exclaimed Paulus, who had heard the 
 last words, and who was dragging rather than leading the 
 feeble Stephanus to the unguarded eastern wall. " That you 
 are, for instead of resisting His enemies you blaspheme God, 
 and disgrace yourselves by your miserable cowardice. Look at 
 this sick old man who is prepared to defend you, and obey my 
 orders without a murmur, or, by the holy martyrs, I will drag 
 you to your posts by your hair and ears, and will " 
 
 But he ceased speaking, for his threats were interrupted by 
 a powerful voice which called his name from the foot of the 
 wall. 
 
 '* That is Agapitus," exclaimed Stephanus. " Lead me to 
 the wall and set me down there. " 
 
 Before Paul us could accede to his friend's wish the tall form 
 of the bishop was standing by his side. 
 
 Agapitus the Cappadocian had in his youth been a warrior; 
 he had hardly passed the limits of middle age, and was 
 a vigilant captain of his congregation. When all the youth 
 of Pharan 'had gone forth to meet the Blemmyes, he had no 
 peace in the oasis, and, after enjoining on the presbyters and 
 deacons that they should pray in the church for the fighting 
 men with the women and the men who remained behind, he 
 himself, accompanied by a guide and two acolytes, had gone 
 up the mountain to witness the battle. 
 
 To the other priests and his wife, who sought to detain him, 
 he had answered : "Where the flock is there should the shep- 
 herd be!" 
 
 Unseen and unheard he had gained the castle wall and had 
 been a witness to Paul us 's vehement speech. He now stood 
 opposite the Alexandrian with rolling eyes, and threateningly 
 lifted his powerful hand as he called out to him :
 
 184 HOMO SUM. 
 
 " Aiicl dare an outcast speak thus to his brethren? \Yill 
 the champion of Satan give orders to the soldiers of the Lord? 
 It would indeed be a joy to you if by your strong arm you 
 could win back the good name that your soul, crippled by *in 
 and guilt, has flung away. Come on, my friends! the Lord 
 is with us and will help us. " 
 
 Paulus had let the bishop's words pass over him in silence, 
 and raised his hands like the other anchorites when Agapitus 
 stepped into their midst, and uttered a short and urgent 
 prayer. 
 
 After the " Amen " the bishop pointed out, like a general, 
 to each man, even to the feeble and aged, his place by the wall 
 or behind the stones for throwing, and then cried out, with a 
 clear ringing voice that sounded above all other noise: " Show 
 to-day~that you are indeed soldiers of the Most High. ' ' 
 ' Not one rebelled, arid when man by man each had placed 
 himself at his post, he went to the precipice and looked at- 
 tentively down at the fight that was raging below. 
 
 The Pharanites were now opposing the attack of the Blem- 
 myes with success, for Phoebicius, -rushing forward with his 
 men from their ambush, had fallen upon the compact mass of 
 the sons of the desert in flank, and, spreading death and ruin, 
 had divided them into two bodies. The well-trained and well- 
 armed Romans seemed to have an easy task with their naked 
 opponents, who, in a hand to hand fight, could not avail them- 
 selves of either their arrows or their spears. But the Blem- 
 myes had learned to use their strength in frequent battles with 
 the imperial troops, and so soon as they perceived that they 
 were no match for their enemies in pitched battle, their leaders 
 set up a strange shrill cry, their ranks dissolved, and they dis- 
 persed in all directions, Like a heap of feathers strewn by a 
 gust of wind. 
 
 Agapitus took the hasty disappearance of the enemy for wild 
 flight, he sighed deeply and thankfully and turned to go down 
 to the field of battle, and to speak consolation to his wounded 
 fellow-Christians. 
 
 But in the castle itself he found opportunity for exercising 
 his pious office, for before him stood the shepherdess whom he 
 had already observed on his arrival, and she said, with much 
 embarrassment, but clearly and quickly: " Old Stephanus there, 
 my lord bishop Hermas's father for whom I carry water 
 bids me ask you to come to him, for his wound has reopened 
 and he thinks his end is near." 
 
 Agapitus immediately obeyed this call; he went with hasty 
 steps toward the sick man, whose wound Paulus and Orion had
 
 HOMO SUM. 185 
 
 already hound up, and greeted him with a familiarity that he 
 was far from showing to the other penitents. He had long 
 known the former name and the fate of Stephanus, and it was 
 by his advice that Hermas had been obliged to join the deputa- 
 tion sent to Alexandria, for Agapitus was of opinion that no 
 one ought to flee from the battle of life without having first 
 taken some part in it. 
 
 Stephanus put out his hand to the bishop who sat down be- 
 side him, signed to the by-standers to leave them alone, and 
 listened attentively to the feeble words of the sufferer. When 
 he had ceased speaking, Agapitus said: 
 
 " I praise the Lord with you for having permitted your lost 
 wife to find the ways that lead to Him, and your son will be 
 as you were once a valiant man of war. Your earthly house 
 is set in order, but are you prepared for the other, the ever- 
 lasting mansion?" 
 
 " For eighteen years 1 have done penance, and prayed, and 
 borne great sufferings," answered the sick man. " The world 
 lies far behind me, and I hope I am walking in the path that 
 leads to heaven." 
 
 " So do I hope for you and for your soul," said the bishop. 
 " That which is hardest to endure has fallen to your lot in this 
 world, but have you striven to forgive those who did you the 
 bitterest wrong, and can you pray, ' Forgive us our sins as we 
 forgive them that sin against us?' Do you remember the 
 words, ' If ye forgive men their trespasses your heavenly Father 
 will also forgive you?' ' 
 
 " Not only have I pardoned Glycera," answered Stephanus, 
 " but I have taken her again into my heart of hearts; but the 
 man who basely seduced her, the wretch who, although I had 
 done him a thousand benefits, betrayed me, robbed me and dis- 
 honored me, I wish him " 
 
 "Forgive him," cried Agapitus, "as you would be for- 
 given." 
 
 " I have striven these eighteen years to bless my enemy," 
 replied Stephanus, " and I will .still continue to strive 
 
 Up to this moment the bishop had devoted his whole atten- 
 tion to the sick anchorite, but he was now called on all sides at 
 once, and Gelasius, who was standing by the declivity with 
 some other anchorites, called out to him : 
 
 " Father save us the heathen there are climbing up the 
 rocks." 
 
 Agapitus signed a blessing over Stephanus and then turned 
 away from him, say ing earnestly once more: "Forgive, and 
 heaven is open to you."
 
 186 HOMO SUM. 
 
 Many wounded and dead lay on the plain, and the Pharanites 
 were retreating into the ravine, for the Blemmyes had not in- 
 deed fled, but had only dispersed themselves, and then had 
 climbed up the rocks which hemmed in the level ground and 
 shot their arrows at their enemies from thence. 
 
 " Where are the Romans?" Agapitus eagerly inquired of 
 Orion. 
 
 " They are withdrawing into the gorge through which the 
 road leads up here," answered the Saite. "But look! only 
 look at these heathen! The Lord be merciful to us! they are 
 climbing up the cliffs like wood-peckers up a tree." ' 
 
 " The stones, fly to the stones!" cried Agapitus with flash- 
 ing eyes to the anchorites that stood by. " What is going on 
 behind the wall there? Do you hear? Yes that is the Roman 
 tuba. Courage, brethren! the emperor 's soldiers are guarding 
 the weakest side of the castle. But look here at the naked 
 figures in the cleft. Bring the blocks here: set your shoulders 
 stoutly to it, Orion! one more push, Salathiel! There it goes, 
 it crashes down ! If only it does not stick in the rift! Xo! 
 thank God, it has bounded off that was a leap! Well done 
 there were six enemies of the Lord destroyed at once. " 
 
 " I see three more yonder," cried Orion. " Come here, 
 Damianus, and help me. " 
 
 The man he called rushed forward with several others, and 
 the first success raised the courage of the anchorites so rapidly 
 and wonderfully that the bishop soon found it difficult to re- 
 strain their zeal and to persuade them to be sparing with the 
 precious missiles. 
 
 While under the direction of Agapitus stone after stone was 
 hurled clattering over the . steep precipice down upon the 
 Blemmyes, Paulus sat by the sick man, looking at the ground. 
 ' You are not helping them?" asked Stephanus. 
 
 " Agapitus is right," replied the Alexandrian. " I have 
 much to expiate, and fighting brings enjoyment. How great 
 enjoyment I can understand by the torture it is to me to sit 
 still. The bishop blessed you affectionately. " 
 
 " I am near the goal," sighed Stephanus, " and he promises 
 me the joys of Heaven if I only forgive him who stole my wife 
 from me. He is forgiven yes, all is forgiven him, and may 
 everything that he undertakes turn to good; yea, and nothing 
 turn to evil only feel how my heart throbs, it is rallying its 
 strength once more before it utterly ceases to beat. When it 
 is all over repeat to Hernias everything that I have told you, 
 and bless him a thousand, thousand times in my name and his 
 mother's; but never, never tell him that in an hour of weak-
 
 HOMO SUM. 187 
 
 ness she ran away with that villain that man, that miserable 
 man I mean whom I forgive. Give Hernias this ring, and 
 with it the letter that you will find under the dry herbs on the 
 couch in my cave; they will secure him a reception from his 
 uncle, who will also procure him a place in the army, for my 
 brother is in high favor with Caesar. Only listen how Agapitus 
 urges on our men; they are fighting bravely there; that is the 
 Koman tuba. Attend to me the maniple will occupy the 
 castle and shoot down on the heathen from thence; when 'they 
 come carry me into the tower. I am weak and would fain 
 collect my thoughts, and pray once more that I may find 
 strength to forgive the man not with my lips only. " 
 
 " Down there, see there come the Romans," cried Paul us, 
 interrupting him. "Here, up here!" he called down to the 
 men, " the steps are more to the left. " 
 
 " Here we are," answered a sharp voice. " You stay there, 
 you people, on that projection of rock, and keep your eye on 
 the castle. If any danger threatens call me with the trumpet. 
 I will climb up, and from the top of the tower there I can see 
 where the dogs come from. " 
 
 During this speech Stephanus had looked down and listened ; 
 when a few minutes later the Gaul reached the wall and called 
 out to the men inside, " Is there no one there who will give 
 me a hand?" he turned to Paulus, saying: " Lift me up and 
 support me quick!" 
 
 With an agility that astonished the Alexandrian, Stephanus 
 stood upon his feet, leaned over the wall toward the centurion 
 who had climbed as far as the outer foot of it looked him 
 in the face with eager attention, shuddered violently, and re- 
 pressmg his feelings with the utmost effort offered him his lean 
 hand to help Paul us. 
 
 " Servianus!" cried the centurion, who was greatly shocked 
 by such a meeting and in such a place, and who, struggling 
 painfully for composure, stared first at the old man and then 
 at him. 
 
 Not one of the three succeeded in uttering a word; but 
 Stephamis's eyes were fixed on the, Gaul's features, and the 
 longer he looked at him the hollower grew his cheeks and the 
 paler his lips; at the same time he still held out his hand to 
 the other, perhaps in token of forgiveness. 
 
 So passed a long minute. Then Phcebicius recollected that 
 he had climbed the wall in the emperor's service, and stamp- 
 ing with impatience at himself he took the" old man's hand in 
 a hasty grasp. But scarcely had Stephanus felt the touch of 
 the Gaul's fingers when he started as struck by lightning, and.
 
 188 HOMO SUM. 
 
 flung himself with a hoarse cry on his enemy who was hanging 
 on the edge of the wall. 
 
 Paulus gazed in horror at the frightful scene, and cried 
 aloud with fervent unction: " Let him go forgive that 
 Heaven may forgive you. " 
 
 " Heaven! what is Heaven? what is forgiveness!" screamed 
 the old man. " He shall be damned. " 
 
 Before the Alexandrian could hinder him the loose stone 
 over which the enemies were wrestling in breathless combat 
 gave way, and both were hurled into the abyss with the falling 
 rock. 
 
 Paulus groaned from the lowest depth of his breast and 
 murmured, while the tears ran down his cheeks: "He, too, 
 has fought the fight, and he, too, has striven in vain." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE fight was ended; the sun as it went to its rest behind 
 the Holy Mountain had lighted many corpses of Blemjpyes, 
 and now the stars shone down on the oasis from the clear sky. 
 
 Hymns of praise sounded out of the church, and near it, 
 under the hill against which it was built, torches were blazing 
 and threw their ruddy light on a row of biers, on which under 
 green palm branches lay the heroes who had fallen in the 
 battle against the Blemmyes. 
 
 Now the hymn ceased, the gates of the house of God opened 
 and Agapitus led his followers toward the dead. The congre- 
 gation gathered in a half circle round their peaceful brethren, 
 and heard the blessing their pastor pronounced over the noble 
 victims who had shed their blood in fighting the heathen. 
 When it was ended those who in life had been their nearest 
 and dearest went up to the dead, and many tears fell into the 
 sand from the eyes of a mother or a wife, many a sigh went up 
 to heaven from a father's breast. Next to the bier on which 
 old Stephauus was resting stood another and a smaller one, 
 and between the two Hermas knelt and wept. He raised his 
 face, for a deep and kindly voice spoke his name. 
 
 " Petrus," said the lad, clasping the hand that the senator 
 held out to him, " I felt forced and driven out into the world, 
 and away from my father and now he is gone forever, how 
 gladly I would have been kept by him." 
 
 " He died a noble death, in battle for those he loved," said 
 the senator, consolingly. 
 
 "Paulus was near him when he fell," replied Hermas. 
 *' My father fell from the wall while defending the tower; but
 
 HOMO SUM. 189 
 
 look here, this girl poor child who used to keep your goats, 
 died like a heroine. Poor, wild Miriam, how kind I would be 
 to you if only you were alive now!" 
 
 Hernias as he spoke stroked the arm of the shepherdess, 
 pressed a kiss on her small, cold hand, and softly folded it 
 with the other across her bosom. 
 
 " How did the girl get into the battle with the men?" asked 
 Petrus. " But you can tell me that in my own house. Come 
 and be our guest as long as it pleases you, and until you go 
 forth into the world; thanks are due to you from us all." 
 
 Hernias blushed and modestly declined the praises which 
 were showered on him on all sides as the savior of the oasis. 
 When the wailing women appeared he knelt once more at the 
 head of his father's bier, cast a last loving look at Miriam's 
 peaceful face, and then followed his host. 
 
 The man and boy crossed the court together. Hernias in- 
 voluntarily glanced up at the window where more than once 
 he had seen Sirona, and said, as he pointed to the centurion's 
 house: "He, too, fell." 
 
 Petrus nodded and opened the door of his house. In the 
 hall, which was lighted up, Dorothea came hastily to meet 
 him, asking: " No news yet of Polykarp?" 
 
 Her husband shook his head, and she added: "How, in- 
 deed, is it possible? He will write at the soonest from Klysma 
 or perhaps even from Alexandria. " 
 
 '' That is just what I think," replied Petrus, looking down 
 to the ground. Then he turned to Hernias and introduced 
 him to his wife. 
 
 Dorothea received the young man with warm sympathy; she 
 had heard that his father had fallen in the fight, and ho\v 
 nobly he, too, had distinguished himself. Slipper was ready, 
 and Hernias was invited to share it. The mistress gave her 
 daughter a sign to make preparations for their guest, but 
 Petrus detained Marthana, and said, " Hernias may fill An- 
 tonius's place; he has still something to do with some of the 
 workmen. Where are Jethro and the house-slaves?" 
 
 " They have already eaten," said Dorothea. 
 
 The husband and wife looked at each other, and Petrus 
 said, with a melancholy smile: " I believe they are up on the 
 mountain. " 
 
 Dorothea wiped a tear from her eye as she replied: " They 
 will meet Antouius there. If only they could find Polykarp! 
 And yet I honestly say not merely to comfort you it is most 
 probable that he has not met with any accident in the mountain
 
 190 HOMO SUM. 
 
 gorges, but has gone to Alexandria to escape the memories 
 that follow him here at every step. Was not that the gate?" 
 
 She rose quickly and looked into the court, while Petrus, 
 who had followed her, did the same, saying, with a deep sigh, 
 as he turned to Marthana who, while she offered meat and 
 bread to Hermas was watching her parents: " It was only the 
 slave Anubis. " 
 
 For some time a painful silence reigned round the large 
 table, to-day so sparsely furnished with guests. 
 
 At last Petrus turned to his guest and said: " You were to 
 tell me how the shepherdess Miriam lost her life in the s'trug- 
 gle. She had run away from our house " 
 
 " Up the mountain," added Hermas. " She supplied my 
 poor father with water like a daughter. " 
 
 11 You see, mother," interrupted Marthana, " she was not 
 bad-hearted; I always said so." 
 
 " This morning," continued Hermas, nodding in sad assent 
 to the maiden, " she followed my father to the castle, and im- 
 mediately after his fall, Paulus told me, she rushed away from 
 it, but only to seek me, and to bring me the sad news. We 
 had known each other a long time; for years she had watered 
 her goats at our well, and while I was still quite a boy and she 
 a little girl, she would listen for hours when I played on my 
 willow-pipe the songs which Paulus had taught me. As long 
 as I played she was perfectly quiet, and when I ceased she 
 wanted to hear more and still more, until I had had too much 
 of it and went away. Then she would grow angry, and if I 
 would not do her will she would scold me with bad words. 
 But she always came again, and as I had no other companion 
 and she was the only creature who cared to listen to me, I was 
 very well content that she should prefer our well to all the 
 others. Then we grew older and I began to be afraid of her, 
 for she would talk in such a godless way and she even died a 
 heathen. Paulus, who once overheard us, warned me against 
 her, and as I had long thrown away the pipe and hunted 
 beasts with my bow and arrow whenever my father would let 
 me, I was with her for shorter intervals when I went to the 
 well to draw water, and we became more and more strangers; 
 indeed, I could be quite hard to her. Only once after I came 
 back from the capital something happened but that I need 
 not tell you. The poor child was so unhappy at being a slave, 
 and no doubt had first seen the light in a free house. She was 
 fond of me, more than a sister is of a brother and when my 
 father was dead she felt that I ought not to learn the news 
 from any one but herself. She had seen which way I had gone
 
 HOMO SUM. 191 
 
 with the Pharanites and followed me up, and she soon found 
 me, for she had the eyes of a gazelle and the ears of a startled 
 bird. It was not this time difficult to find me, for when she 
 sought me we were fighting with the Blemmyes in the green 
 hollow that leads from the mountain to the sea. They roared 
 with fury like wild beasts, for before we could get to the sea 
 the fishermen in the little town below had discovered their 
 boats, which they had hidden under sand and stones, and had 
 carried them off to their harbor. The boy from Eaithu who 
 accompanied me had by my orders kept them in sight, and 
 had led the fishermen to the hiding-place. The watchmen 
 whom they had left with the boats had fled, and had reached 
 their companions who were fighting round the castle, and at 
 least two hundred of them had been sent back to the shore to 
 recover possession of the boats and to punish the fishermen. 
 This troop met us in the green valley, and there we fell to 
 fighting. The Blemmyes outnumbered us; they soon sur- 
 rounded us before and behind, on the right side and on the 
 left, for they jumped and climbed from rock to rock like 
 mountain-goats, and then shot down their reed-arrows from 
 above. Three or four touched me, and one pierced my hair 
 and remained hanging in it with the feather at the end of the 
 shaft. How the battle went elsewhere I can not tell you, for 
 the blood mounted to my head, and I was only conscious that 
 I myself snorted and shouted like a madman, and wrestled with 
 the heathen now here and now there, and more than once 
 lifted my ax to cleave a skull. At the same time I saw a part 
 of our men turn to fly, and I called them back with furious 
 words; then they turned round and followed me again. Once 
 in the midst of the struggle, I saw Miriam, too, clinging, pale 
 and trembling to a rock, and looking on at the fight. I 
 shouted to her to leave the spot and go back to my father, 
 but she stood still and shook her head with a gesture a 
 gesture so full of pity and anguish I shall never forget it. 
 With hands and eyes she signed to me that my father was 
 dead, and I understood; at least I understood that some 
 dreadful misfortune had happened. I had no time for reflec- 
 tion, for before I could gain any certain information by word of 
 mouth, a captain of the heathen had seized me, and we came 
 to a life and death struggle before Miriam's very eyes. My 
 opponent was strong, but I showed the girl who had often 
 taunted me for being a weakling because I obeyed my father 
 in everything that I need yield to no one. I could not have 
 borne to be vanquished before her, and I flung the heatheit to 
 the ground and slew him with my ax. I was only vaguely
 
 192 HOMO SUM. 
 
 conscious of her presence, for during my severe struggle I 
 could see nothing but my adversary. But suddenly I heard a 
 loud scream, and Miriam sunk bleeding close before me. 
 While I was kneeling over his comrade one of the Blemmyes 
 had crept up to me, and had flung his lance at me from a few 
 paces off. But Miriam Miriam " 
 
 " She saved you at the cost of her own life," said Petrus, 
 completing the lad's sentence, for at the recollection of the 
 occurrence his voice had failed and his eyes overflowed with 
 tears. 
 
 Hernias nodded assent, and then added, softly: 
 
 " She threw up her arms and called my name as the spear 
 struck her. The eldest son of Obedianus punished the heathen 
 that had done it, and I supported her as she fell dying, and 
 took her curly head on my knees and spoke her name; she 
 opened her eyes once more, and spoke mine softly and with in- 
 describable tenderness. I had never thought that wild Miriam 
 could speak so sweetly; I was overcome with terrible grief, and 
 kissed her eyes and her lips. She looked at me once more with 
 a long, wide-open, blissful gaze, and then she was dead. " 
 
 " She was a heathen/' said Dorothea, drying her eyes, " but 
 for such a death the Lord will forgive her much. " 
 
 "I loved her dearly," said Marthana, "and will lay my 
 sweetest flowers on her grave. May I cut some sprays from 
 your blooming myrtle for a wreath?" 
 
 ' To-morrow, to-morrow, my child," replied Dorothea. 
 " Now, go to rest; it is already very late." 
 
 " Only let me stay till Antonius and Jethro come back," 
 begged the girl. 
 
 " I would willingly help you to find your son," said Her- 
 man, " and if you wish I will go to Kaitlm and Klysma, and 
 inquire among the fishermen. Had the centurion" and as 
 he spoke the young soldier looked down in some embarrass- 
 ment, " had the centurion found his fugitive wife of whom he 
 was in pursuit with Talib, the Amalekite, before he died?" 
 
 " Sirona has not yet reappeared," replied Petrus, "and 
 perhaps but just now you mentioned the name of Paulus, 
 who was so dear to you and your father. Do you know that it 
 was he who so shamelessly ruined the domestic peace of the 
 centurion?" 
 
 " Paulus!" cried Hernias. " How can you believe it?" 
 "Phcebicius found his sheep-skin in his wife's room," re- 
 plied Petrus, gravely. "And the impudent Alexandrian 
 recognized it as his own before us all and allowed the Gaul to
 
 HOMO SUM. 193 
 
 punish him. He committed the disgraceful deed the very 
 evening that you were sent off to gain intelligence/' 
 
 " And Phoebicius flogged him?" cried Hernias, beside him- 
 self. " And the poor fellow bore this disgrace and your 
 blame, and all all for my sake. Now I understand what he 
 meant! I met him after the battle, and he told me that my 
 father was dead. When he parted from me he said he was of 
 all sinners the greatest., and that I should hear it said down in 
 the oasis. But I know better; he is great-hearted and good, 
 and I will not bear that he should be disgraced and slandered 
 for my sake. " Hernias had sprung up with these words, and 
 as he met the astonished gaze of his host's he tried to collect 
 himself, and said: 
 
 " Paul us never even saw Sirona, and I repeat it, if there is 
 a man who may boast of being good and pure and quite with- 
 out sin, it is he. For me, and to save me from punishment 
 and my father from sorrow, he owned a sin that he never com- 
 mitted. Such a deed is just like him the brave, faithful 
 friend! But such shameful suspicion and disgrace shall not 
 weigh upon him a moment longer!" 
 
 "You are speaking to an older man," said Petrus, angrily 
 interruptiiig the youth's vehement speech. " Your friend ac- 
 knowledged with his own lips " 
 
 " Then he told a lie out of pure goodness," Hernias in- 
 sisted. " The sheep-skin that the Gaul found was mine. I 
 had gone to Sirona, while her husband was sacrificing to Mith- 
 ras, to fetch some wine for my father, and she allowed me to 
 try on the centurion's armor; when he unexpectedly returned 
 I leaped out into the street and forgot that luckless sheep-skin. 
 Paulus met me as I fled, and said he would set it all right, and 
 sent me away to take my place and save my father a great 
 trouble. Look at me as severely as you will, Dorothea, but it 
 was only in thoughtless folly that I slipped into the .Gaul's 
 house that evening, and by the memory of my father of 
 whom Heaven has this day bereft me I swear that Sirona 
 only amused herself with me as with a boy, a child, and even 
 refused to let me kiss her beautiful golden hair. As surely as 
 I hope to become a warrior, and as surely as my father's spirit 
 hears what I say, the guilt that Paulus took upon himself was 
 never committed at all, and when you condemned Sirona you 
 did an injustice, for she never broke her faith to her husband 
 for me, nor still less for Paulus. " 
 
 Petrus and Dorothea exchanged a meaning glance, and 
 Dorothea said: 
 
 " Why have we to learn all this from the lips of a stranger?
 
 194 HOMO SUM. 
 
 It sounds very extraordinary, and yet how simple! Ay, hus- 
 band, it would have become us better to guess something of 
 this than to doubt Sirona. From the first it certainly seemed 
 to me impossible that that handsome woman, for whom quite 
 different people had troubled themselves, should err for this 
 queer beggar ' 
 
 " What cruel injustice has fallen on the poor man!" cried 
 Petrus. " If he had boasted of some noble deed we should in- 
 deed have been less ready to give him credence. " 
 
 " We are suffering heavy punishment/' sighed Dorothea, 
 " and my heart is bleeding. Why did you not come to us, 
 Hernias, if you wanted wine? How much suffering would 
 have been spared if you had!" 
 
 The lad looked down, and was silent; but soon he recollected 
 himself, and said, eagerly: 
 
 " Let me go and seek the hapless Paulus; I return you 
 thanks for your kindness, but I can not bear to stay here any 
 longer. 1 must go back to the mountain." 
 
 The senator and his wife did not detain him, and when the 
 court-yard gate had closed upon him a great stillness reigned 
 in Petrus's sitting-room. Dorothea .leaned far back in her seat 
 and sat looking in her lap while the tears rolled over her 
 cheeks; Marthana held her hand and stroked it, and the 
 senator stepped to the window and sighed deeply as he looked 
 down into the dark court. Sorrow lay on all their hearts like 
 a heavy-laden burden. All was still in the spacious room, only 
 now and then a loud, long-drawn cry of the wailing women 
 rang through the quiet night and reached them through the 
 open window; it was a heavy hour, rich in vain but silent 
 self-accusation, anxiety and short prayers; poor in hope or 
 consolation. 
 
 Presently Petrus heaved a deep sigh, and Dorothea rose to 
 go up .to him, and to say to him some sincere word of affec- 
 tion; but just then the dogs in the yard barked, and the 
 agonized father said, softly in deep dejection, and prepared 
 for the worst: 
 
 "Most likely it is they." 
 
 The deaconess pressed his hand in hers, but drew back when 
 a light tap was heard at the court-yard gate. 
 
 "It is not Jethro and Antonius," said Petrus; " they have 
 a key." 
 
 Marthana had gone up to him, and she clung to him as he 
 leaned far out of the window and called to whoever it was that 
 had tapped: 
 
 " Who is that knocking?"
 
 HOMO SUM. 195 
 
 The dogs barked so loud that neither the senator nor the 
 women were able to hear the answer which seemed to be re- 
 turned. 
 
 "Listen to Argus," said Dorothea; "he never howls like 
 that but when you come home, or one of us, or when he is 
 pleased. " 
 
 Petrus laid his finger on his lips and sounded a clear, shrill 
 wliistle, and as the dogs, obedient to this signal, were silent, 
 he once more called out: 
 
 " Whoever you may be, say plainly who you are, that I may 
 open the gate. " 
 
 They were kept waiting some few minutes for the answer, 
 and the senator was on the point of repeating his inquiry, 
 when a gentle voice timidly came from the gate to the window, 
 saying: 
 
 "It is I, Petrus, the fugitive Sirona." Hardly had the 
 words tremulously pierced the silence, when Marthana broke 
 from her father, whose hand was resting on her shoulder, and 
 flew out of the door, down the steps, and out to the gate. 
 
 "Sirona; poor, dear Sirona," cried the girl as she pushed 
 back the bolt; as soon as she had opened the door and Sirona 
 had entered the court, she threw herself on her neck, and 
 kissed and stroked her as if she were her long-lost sister found 
 again; then, without allowing her to speak, she seized her 
 hand and drew her in spite of the slight resistance she 
 offered with many affectionate exclamations up the steps and 
 into the sitting-room. Pefcrus and Dorothea met her on the 
 threshold, and the latter pressed her to her heart, kissed her 
 forehead, and said, "Poor woman; we know now that we 
 have done you an injustice, and will try to make it good." 
 The senator, too, went up to her, took her hand and added his 
 greetings to those of his wife, for he knew not whether she had 
 as yet heard of her husband's end. 
 
 Sirona could not find a word in reply. She had expected to 
 be expelled as a castaway when she came down the mountain, 
 losing her way in the darkness. Her sandals were cut by the 
 sharp rocks, and hung in strips to her bleeding feet, her beau- 
 tiful hair was tumbled by the night wind., and her white robe 
 looked like a ragged beggar's garment, for she had torn it to 
 make bandages for Polykarp's wound. 
 
 Some hours had already passed since she had left her patient 
 her heart full of dread for him and of anxiety as to the ]iard 
 reception she might meet with from his parents. 
 
 How her hand shook with fear of Petrus and Dorothea as 
 she raised the brazen knocker of the senator's door, and now
 
 196 HOMO sor. 
 
 a father, a mother, a sister opened their arms to her, and an 
 affectionate home smiled upon her. Her heart and soul over- 
 flowed with boundless emotion and unlimited thankfulness, 
 and weeping loudly, she pressed her clasped hands to her 
 breast. 
 
 But she spared only a few moments for the enjoyment of 
 these feelings of delight, for there was no happiness for her 
 without Polykarp, and it was for his sake that she had under- 
 taken this perilous night journey. Marthana had tenderly 
 approached her, but she gently put her aside, saying: " Xot 
 just now, dear girl. I have already wasted an hour, for I lost 
 my way in the ravines. Get ready, Petrus, to come back to 
 the mountain with me at once, for but do not be startled, 
 Dorothea; Paul us says that the worst danger is over, and if 
 Polykarp 
 
 " For God's sake, do you know where he is?" cried Doro- 
 thea, and her cheeks crimsoned, while Petrus turned pale 
 and, interrupting her, asked, in breathless anxiety: 
 
 " Where is Polykarp, and what has happened to him?" 
 
 " Prepare yourself to hear bad news," said Sirona, looking 
 at the pair with mournful anxiety, as if to crave their pardon 
 for the evil tidings she was obliged to bring. " Polykarp had 
 a fall on a sharp stone, and so wounded his head. Paulus 
 brought him to me this morning before he set out against the 
 Blemmyes, that I might nurse him. I have incessantly cooled 
 his wound, and toward midday he opened his eyes and knew 
 me again, and said you would be anxious about him. After 
 sundown he went to sleep, but he is not wholly free from 
 fever, and as soon as Paulus came in I set out to quiet your 
 anxiety and to entreat you to give me a cooling potion, that I 
 may return to him with it at once." The deepest sorrow 
 sounded in Sirona's accents as she told her story, and tears 
 had started to her eyes as she related to the parents what had 
 befallen their son. Petrus and Dorothea listened as to a 
 singer, who, dressed indeed in robes of mourning, nevertheless 
 sings a lay of return and hope to a harp wreathed with flowers. 
 
 "Quick, quick, Marthana!" cried Dorothea, eagerly, and 
 with sparkling eyes, before Sirona had ended. " Quick! the 
 basket with the bandages. I will mix the fever-draught my- 
 self. " Petrus went up to the Gaulish woman. 
 
 " It is really no worse than you represent?" he asked, in a 
 low voice. " He is alive? and Paulus " 
 
 " Paulus says," interrupted Sirona, " that with good nurs- 
 ing the sick man will be well in a few weeks." 
 
 " And you can lead me to him?"
 
 HOMO SUM. 197 
 
 " I oh, alas! alas!" Sirona cried, striking her hand against 
 her forehead. " I shall never succeed in finding my way back, 
 for I noticed no way-marks! But stay Before us a penitent 
 from Memphis, who has been dead a few weeks " 
 
 " Old Serapion?" asked Petrus. 
 
 " That was his name," exclaimed Sirona. " Do you know 
 his cave?" 
 
 " How should I?" replied Petrus. " But perhaps Agapi- 
 tus " 
 
 " The spring where I got the water to cool Polykarp's 
 wound Paulus calls it the partridge 'a spring." 
 
 "The partridge's spring," repeated the senator, " I know 
 that." With a deep sigh he took his staff, and called to 
 Dorothea : 
 
 " Do you prepare the draught, the bandages, torches, and 
 your good litter, while I knock at our neighbor Magadon's 
 door, and ask him to lend us slaves." 
 
 " Let me go with you," said Marthana. 
 
 " No, no; you stay here with your mother." 
 
 " And do you think that I can wait here?" asked Dorothea, 
 " I am going with you." 
 
 " There is much here for you to do," replied Petrus, eva- 
 sively, " and we must climb the hill quickly." 
 
 "I should certainly delay you, " sighed the mother; "but 
 take the girl with you; she has a light and lucky hand." 
 
 "If you think it best," said the senator, and he left the 
 room. 
 
 While the mother and daughter prepared everything for the 
 night expedition, and came and went, they found time to put 
 many questions and say many affectionate words to Sirona. 
 Marthana, even without interrupting her work, set food and 
 drink for the weary woman on the table by which she had 
 siuik on a seat; but she hardly moistened her lips. 
 
 When the young girl showed her the basket that she had 
 filled with medicine and linen bandages, with wine and pure 
 water, Sirona said: " Now lend me a pair of your strongest 
 sandals, for mine are all torn, and I can not follow the men 
 without shoes, for the stones are sharp and cut into the flesh." 
 
 Marthana now perceived for the first time the blood on her 
 friend's feet; she quickly took the lamp from the table and 
 placed it on the pavement, exclaiming, as she knelt down in 
 front of Sirona and took her slender white feet in her haund 
 to look at the wounds on her soles: 
 
 " Good heavens! here are three deep cuts!" 
 
 In a moment she had a basin at hand, and was carefully
 
 198 HOMO SUM. 
 
 bathing the wounds in Siroua's feet; while she was wrapping 
 the injured foot in strips of linen Dorothea came up to them. 
 
 " I would," she said, " that Polykarp were only here now; 
 this roll would suffice to bind you both." A faint flush over- 
 spread Sirona's cheeks, but Dorothea Avas suddenly conscious 
 of what she had said, and Marthana gently pressed her friend's 
 hand. 
 
 When the bandage was securely fixed Sirona attempted to 
 walk, but she succeeded so badly that Petrus, who now came 
 back with his friend Magadon and his sons and several slaves, 
 found it necessary to strictly forbid her to accompany them. 
 He felt sure of finding his son without her, for one of Mag- 
 adon's people had often carried bread and oil to old Serapiou, 
 and knew his cave. 
 
 Before the senator and his daughter left the room he whis- 
 pered a few words to his wife, <md together they went up to 
 Sirona. 
 
 " Do you know," he asked, " what has happened to your 
 husband?" 
 
 Sirona nodded. " I heard it from Paulus," she answered. 
 " Now I am quite alone in the world." 
 
 " Not so," replied Petrus. " You will find shelter and love 
 under our roof as if it were your father's, so long as it suits 
 you to stay with us. You need not thank us we are deeply 
 in your debt. Farewell till we meet again, wife. I would 
 Polykarp were safe here, and that you had seen his wound. 
 Come, Marthana, the minutes are precious." 
 
 When Dorothea and Sirona were alone the deaconess said: 
 " Now I will go and make up a bed for you, for you must be 
 very tired." 
 
 " No, no!" begged Sirona. " I will wait and watch with 
 you, for I certainly could not sleep till I know how it is with 
 him. " She spoke so warmly and eagerly that the deaconess 
 gratefully offered her hand to her young friend. Then she 
 said: 
 
 " I will leave you alone for a few minutes, for my heart is 
 so full of anxiety that I must needs go and pray for help for 
 him, and for courage and strength for myself." 
 
 " Take me with you," entreated Sirona in a low tone. " In 
 my need I opened my heart to your good and loving God, and 
 I will never more pray to any other. The mere thought of 
 Him strengthened and comforted me, and now, if ever, in this 
 hour I need His merciful support." 
 
 " My child, my daughter!" cried the deaconess, deeply
 
 HOMO SUM. 199 
 
 moved. She bent over Sirona, kissed her forehead and her 
 lips, and led her by the hand into her quiet sleeping-room. 
 
 " This is the place where I most love to pray/' she said, 
 " although there is here no image and no altar. My God is 
 everywhere present and in every place I can find Him." 
 
 The two women knelt down side by side, and both besought 
 the same God for the same mercies not for themselves, but 
 for another; and both in their sorrow could give thanks 
 Sirona, because in Dorothea she had found a. mother, and 
 Dorothea, because in Sirona she had found a dear and loving 
 daughter. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 PATJLTJS was sitting in front of the cave that had sheltered 
 Polykarp and Sirona, and he watched the torches whose light 
 lessened as the bearers went further and further toward the 
 valley. They lighted the way for the wounded sculptor, who 
 was being borne home to the oasis, lying in his mother's easy 
 litter, and accompanied by his father and his sister. 
 
 " Yet an hour," thought the anchorite, "and his mother 
 will have her son again, yet a week and Polykarp will rise 
 from his bed, yet a year and he will remember nothing of 
 yesterday but a scar and perhaps a kiss that he pressed on 
 the Gaulish woman's rosy lips. I shall find it harder to forget. 
 The ladder which for so many years I had labored to con- 
 struct, on which I had thought to scale heaven, and which 
 looked to me so lofty and so safe, there it lies broken to pieces, 
 and the hand that struck it down was my own weakness. It 
 would almost seem as if this weakness of mine had more power 
 than what we call moral, strength, for that which it took the 
 one years to build up, was wrecked by the other in a moment. 
 In weakness only am I a giant." 
 
 Paulus shivered at these words, for he was cold. Early in 
 that morning when he had taken upon himself Hermas's guilt 
 he had abjured wearing his sheep-skin; now his body, accus- 
 tomed to the warm wrap, suffered severely, and his blood 
 coursed with fevered haste through his veins since the efforts, 
 night-watches, and excitement of the last few days. He drew 
 his little coat close round him with a shiver, and muttered: 
 " I feel like a sheep that has been shorn in midwinter, and my 
 head burns as if I were a baker and had to draw the bread out 
 of the oven; a child might knock me down, and my eyes are 
 heavy. I have not even tho energy to collect my thoughts for 
 a prayer, of which I am in such sore need. My goal is un-
 
 200 HOMO SUM. 
 
 doubtedly the right one, but so soon as I seem to be nearing 
 it, my weakness snatches it from me, as the wind swept back 
 the fruit-laden boughs which Tantalus, parched with thirst, 
 tried to grasp. I fled from the world to this mountain, and 
 the world has pursued me and has flung its snares round my 
 feet. I must seek a lonelier waste in which I may be alone 
 quite alone with my God and myself. There, perhaps, I may 
 find the way I seek, if indeed the fact that the creature that I 
 call ' I,' in which the whole world with all its agitations in 
 little finds room and which will accompany me even there 
 does not once again frustrate all my labor. He who takes his 
 Self with him into the desert is not alone. " 
 
 Paul us sighed deeply, and then pursued his reflections: 
 " How pufl'ed up with pride I was after I had tasted the 
 Gaul's rods in place of Hernias, and then I was like a drunken 
 man who falls down-stairs step by step. And poor Stephanus, 
 too, had a fall when he was so near the goal! He failed in 
 strength to forgive, and the senator who has just now left me, 
 and whose innocent son I had so badly hurt, when we parted 
 forgivingly gave me his hand. I could see that he did forgive 
 me with all his heart, and this Petrus stands in the midst of 
 life, and is busy early and late with mere worldly affairs." 
 
 For a time he looked thoughtfully before him, and then he 
 went on in his soliloquy: " What was the story that old Sera- 
 pion used to tell? In the Thebaid there dwelt a penitent who 
 thought he led a perfectly saintly life and far transcended all 
 his companions in stern virtue. Once he dreamed that there 
 was in Alexandria a man even more perfect than himself; 
 Phabias was his name, and he was a shoe-maker, dwelling in 
 the White Eoad near the harbor of Kibotos. The anchorite at 
 once went to the capital and found the shoe-maker, and when 
 he asked him: 'How do you serve the Lord? How do you 
 conduct your life?' Phabis looked at him in. astonishment. ' I 
 serve my Saviour well! I work early and late, and provide for 
 my family, and pray morning and evening in few words for 
 the whole city.' Petrus, it seems to me, is such a one as 
 Phabis; but many roads lead to God, and we and I 
 
 Again a cold shiver interrupted his meditation, and as morn- 
 ing approached the cold was so keen that he endeavored to 
 light a fire. While he was painfully blowing the charcoal 
 Hernias came up to him. 
 
 He had learned from Polykarp's escort where Paulus was to 
 be found, and as he stood opposite his friend he grasped his 
 hand, stroked his rough hair, and thanked him with deep and 
 tender emotion for the great sacrifice he had made for him
 
 HOMO SUM. 201 
 
 when he had taken upon himself the dishonoring punishment 
 of his fault. 
 
 Paul us declined all pity or thanks, and spoke to Hernias of 
 his father and of his future, until it was light, and the young 
 man prepared to go down to the oasis to pay the last honors to 
 the dead. To his entreaty that he would accompany him, 
 Paulus only answered: 
 
 " No no; not now, not now; for if I were to mix with men 
 now I should fly asunder like a rotten wine-skin full of fer- 
 menting wine; a swarm of bees is buzzing in my head, and an 
 ant-hill is growing in my bosom. Go now and leave me 
 alone/' 
 
 After the funeral ceremony Hernias took an affectionate 
 leave of Agapitus, Petrus, and Dorothea, and then returned 
 to the Alexandrian, with whom he went to the cave where he 
 had so long lived with his dead father. 
 
 There Paulus delivered to him his father's letter to his 
 uncle, and spoke to him more lovingly than he had ever done 
 before. At night they both lay down on their beds, but neither 
 of them found rest or sleep. 
 
 From time to time Paulus murmured, in a low voice, but in 
 tones of keen anguish: " In vain all in vain!" and again, 
 " I seek, I seek but who can show me the way?" 
 
 They both rose before day-break; Hermas went once more 
 down to the well, knelt down near it, and felt as though he 
 were bidding farewell to his father and Miriam. 
 
 Memories of every kind rose up in his soul, and so mighty is 
 the glorifying power of love that the miserable, brown-skinned 
 shepherdess Miriam seemed to him a thousand-fold more beau- 
 tiful than that splendid woman who filled the soul of a great 
 artist with delight. 
 
 Shortly after sunrise Paulus conducted him to the fishing- 
 port and to the Israelite friend who. managed the business of 
 his father's house; he caused him to be oountifully supplied 
 with gold and accompanied him to the ship laden with charcoal 
 that was to convey him to Klysma. 
 
 The parting was very painful to him, and when Hermas 
 saw his eyes full of tears and felt his hands tremble, he said: 
 " Do not be troubled about me, Paulus; we shall meet again, 
 and I will never forget you and my father. " 
 
 " And your mother," added the anchorite. " I shall miss 
 you sorely, but trouble is the very thing I look for. He who 
 succeeds in making the sorrows of the whole world his own 
 he whose soul is touched by a sorrow at every breath he draws 
 he indeed must long for the call of the Redeemer. "
 
 202 HOMO SUM. 
 
 Hennas fell weeping on his neck, and started to feel how 
 burning the anchorite's lips were as he pressed them to his 
 forehead. 
 
 At last the sailors drew in the ropes; Paulus turned once 
 more to the youth. " You are going your own way now," 
 he said. " Do not forget the Holy Mountain, and hear this: 
 Of all sins three are most deadly : To serve false gods, to covet 
 your neighbor's wife, and to raise your hands to kill; keep 
 yourself from them. And of all virtues two are the least con- 
 spicuous, and at the same time the greatest: Truthfulness and 
 humility; practice these. Of all consolations these two are the 
 best: The consciousness of wishing the right, however much 
 we may err and stumble through human weakness, and 
 prayer. " 
 
 Once more he embraced the departing youth, then he went 
 across the sand of the shore back to the mountain without 
 looking round. 
 
 Hermas looked after him for a long time, greatly distressed, 
 for his strong friend tottered like a drunken man and often 
 pressed his hand to his head, which was no doubt as burning 
 as his lips. 
 
 The young warrior never again saw the Holy Mountain or 
 Paulus, but after, he himself had won fame and distinction in 
 the army he met again with Petrus's son, Polykarp, whom the 
 emperor had sent for to Byzantium with great honor, and in 
 whose house the Gaulish woman Sirona presided as a true and 
 loving wife and mother. 
 
 After his parting from Hermas Paulus disappeared. The 
 other anchorites long sought him in vain, as well as Bishop 
 Agapitus, who had learned from Petrus that the Alexandrian 
 had been punished and expelled in innocence, and who desired 
 to offer him pardon and consolation in his own person. At 
 last, ten days after, Orion the Saite found him in a remote 
 cave. The Angel of Death had called him only a few hours 
 before while in the act of prayer, for he was scarcely cold. He 
 was kneeling with his forehead against the rocky wall, and his 
 emaciated hands were closely clasped over Magdalen's ring. 
 "When his companions had laid him on his bier his noble, 
 gentle features wore a pure and transfiguring smile. 
 
 The news of his death flew with wonderful rapidity through 
 the oasis and the fishing town, and far and wide to the caves 
 of the anchorites, and even to the huts of the Amalekite shep- 
 herds. The procession that followed him to his last resting- 
 place stretched to an invisible distance; in front of all walked
 
 HOMO SUM. 203 
 
 Agapitus with the elders and deacons, and behind them Petrus 
 with his wife and family, to which Sirona now belonged. 
 Polykarp, who was now recovering, laid a palm-branch in 
 token of reconcilement on his grave, which was visited as a 
 sacred spot by the many whose needs he had alleviated in 
 secret, and before long by all the penitents from far and wide. 
 
 Petrus erected a monument over his grave, on which 
 Polykarp incised the words which Paulus's trembling fingers 
 had traced just before his death with a piece of charcoal on 
 the wall of his cave: 
 
 " Pray for me, a miserable man for I was a man." 
 
 THE END.
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 
 produces not only a saving 
 of time ami labor to the in- 
 telligent laundress, who with- 
 out it tries to make elbow- 
 power and soap do what they 
 seldom accomplish. It is a 
 relief to the pocket of the 
 master of the house, and the 
 conscience of the house- 
 mother. She feels herself to 
 
 be personally responsible for the condition of the 
 linen, which comes up from the weekly wash ill-smell- 
 ing and dingy, or, if white, is eaten as by a cotton- 
 loving species of moths into holes by washing soda, 
 beloved of the lazy, abhorred by the thrifty. Pearline, 
 used according to the directions, which accompany 
 
 each package, softens hard water, extracts grease, bleaches " white goods " 
 without damage to the finest fabric, and cleanses paint to perfection. In the 
 decade that has elapsed since the introduction of it into American kitchens, 
 the demand has steadily and rapidly increased, until, in 1886, 14,000,000 pack- 
 ages were reauired to supply the market; the demand in 188? was still larger. 
 This mass of truth-telling figures is eloquen t and unsurmountable. 
 
 JAMES PYLE, New York. 
 
 The New York Fashion Bazar Book of the Toilet. 
 
 PRICE 25 CENTS. 
 
 This is a little book which we can recommend to every lady for the Preserva- 
 tion and Increase of Health and Beauty. It contains full directions for all the 
 arts and mysteries of personal decoration, and for increasing the natural 
 graces of form and expression. All the little affections of the skin, hair, eyes 
 and body, that detract from appearance and happiness, are made the sub- 
 jects of 'precise and excellent recipes. Ladies are instructed how to reduce 
 their weight without injury to health and without producing pallor and weak- 
 ness. Nothing necessary to a complete toilet book of recipes and valuable 
 advice and information has been overlooked in the compilation of this volume. 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, MUNRO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 (P O Box 3751.) 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
 GRAHflM^S INVIGORATING PILLS; 
 
 These famous and unrivaled Pills PURIFY THE BLOOD, and act pow- 
 erfully, yet soothingly, on the LIVER and STOMACH, and relieve INDIGES- 
 TION, NERVOUS DEBILITY, DYSPEPSIA, SICK HEADACHE, SLEEP- 
 LESSNESS, BILIOUSNESS, and are wonderfully efficacious in all ailments 
 incidental to FEMALES, Young or Old. Sure cure for PIMPLES and ALL 
 ERUPTIONS of the SKIN. Price 50 cents per box, 6 boxes for $2.50. Sent 
 by mail on receipt of price. Address GRAHAM MEDICAL CO.. 
 191 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, N. Y., or P. O. Box 2124, New York. ^ 
 
 OLD SLEUTH'S BEST DETECTIVE STORY. 
 
 "THE SHADOW DETECTIVE.' 1 
 
 By OT.D SLEUTH, 
 
 Author of "The Gupsi/ Detective," " The Irish Detective," etc., etc. 
 Handsomely Bound In Paper Covers. Printed In large type on fine paper. 
 PltlCE GO C'Ii*.N AS* , . 
 
 "THE SHADOW DETECTIVE," one of Old Sleuth's great stories, is now of- 
 fered in an attractive volume for fifty cents. Thousands have heard of this 
 wonderful story, and it will be found fully to merit its great popularity as a serial. 
 
 It may be had of all newsdealers, or will be sent by mail on receipt of price, 
 50 cents, by the publisher. Address GEORGE MUNRO, MCKBO'S PUBLISHINB 
 HOUSE, 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. (P. O. Box 3751.)
 
 MUNRO'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 The Seaside Library-Pocket Edition. 
 
 Always Unchanged and Unabridged. 
 
 WITH HANDSOME LITHOGRAPHED PAPER COVER. 
 
 Persons who wish to purchase the following works in a complete 
 and unabridged form are cautioned to order and see that they get 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY, POCKET EDITION, as works published in 
 other libraries are frequently abridged and incomplete. Every 
 number of THE SEASIDE LIBRARY is 
 
 ALWAYS UNCHANGED AND UNABRIDGED. 
 
 Newsdealers wishing catalogues of THE SKASTDE LIBRARY, Pocket Edi- 
 tion, bearing their imprint, will be supplied ou sending their names 
 addresses, and number required. 
 
 The works in THE SEASIDE LIBRARY, Pocket Edition, are printed from 
 larger type and on better paper than any other series published. 
 
 The following works are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to 
 any address, postage free, on receipt of price, by the publisher. 
 
 GEORGE MLMIO, Munro's Publishing House, 
 
 (P. O. Box 3751.) 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
 LIST OF AUTHORS. 
 
 [When ordering by mail please order by numbers.] 
 
 Works by the author of " Addie's 
 Husband.'' 
 
 388 Addie's Husband ; or, Through 
 
 Clouds to Sunshine 10 
 
 504 My Poor Wife 10 
 
 1046 Jessie 20 
 
 Works by the author of " A Fatal 
 Dower." 
 
 246 A Fatal Dower 20 
 
 372 Phyllis' Probation 10 
 
 461 His Wedded Wife 20 
 
 829 The Actor's Ward 20 
 
 Works by the author of "A Great 
 Mistake." 
 
 244 A Great Mistake 20 
 
 588 Cherry 10 
 
 1040 Clarissa's Ordeal. 1st half... 20 
 1040 Clarissa's Ordeal. 3d half. ... 20 
 
 Works by the author of "A 
 Woman's Love-Story." 
 
 322 A Woman's Love-Story 10 
 
 677 Griselda 20 
 
 Mrs. Alexander's Works. 
 
 5 The Admiral's Ward 20 
 
 17 The Wooing O't 20 
 
 62 The Executor 20 
 
 189 Valerie's Fate 10 
 
 229 Maid, Wife, or Widow? 10 
 
 236 Which Shall it Be? 20 
 
 339 Mrs. Vereker's Courier Maid.. 10 
 
 490 A Second Life 20 
 
 664 At Bay 10 
 
 794 Beaton's Bargain 20 
 
 797 Look Before You Leap 20 
 
 805 The Freres. 1st half 20 
 
 805 The Freres. 2d half 20 
 
 80(5 Her Dearest Foe. 1st half.... 20 
 
 806 Her Dearest Foe. 2d half.... 20 
 
 814 The Heritage of Langdale 20 
 
 815 Ralph Wilton's Weird 10 
 
 900 By Woman's Wit 20 
 
 997 Forging the Fetters, and The 
 
 Australian Aunt 20 
 
 1054 Mona's Choice 20 
 
 1057 A Life Interest 20 
 
 Alison's Works. 
 
 194 " So Near, and Yet So Far !" . . 10 
 
 278 For Life and Love 10 
 
 481 The House That Jack Built. . . 10 
 
 F. Anstey's Works. 
 
 59 Vice Versa 20 
 
 225 The Giant's Robe 20 
 
 503 The Tinted Venus. A Farcical 
 
 Romance 10 
 
 819 A Fallen Idol 20 
 
 R. M. Ballantyne's Works. 
 
 89 The Red Eric 10 
 
 95 The Fire Brigade 10 
 
 96 Erling the Bold 10 
 
 772 Gascoyue, tho Sandal-Wood 
 
 Trader 20 
 
 S. Baring-Gould's Works. 
 
 787 Court Royal. '. 20 
 
 878 Little Tuppenny 10
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 Basil's Works. 
 
 344 "The Wearing of the Green ". 20 
 
 547 A Coquet re's Conquest iO 
 
 585 A Drawn Game , 20 
 
 Anne Scale's Works. 
 
 188 Idonea : . . . . 20 
 
 199 The Fisher Village .-. . 10 
 
 Walter Besant's Works. 
 
 97 All in a Garden Fair 20 
 
 137 Uncle Jack 10 
 
 140 A Glorious Fortune 10 
 
 146 Love Finds the Way,and Other 
 Stories. By Besant and Rice 10 
 
 230 Dorothy Forster 20 
 
 324 In Luck at Last 10 
 
 541 Uncle Jack 10 
 
 651 " Self or Bearer " 10 
 
 882 Children of Gibeon 20 
 
 904 The Holy Rose 10 
 
 906 The World Went Very Well 
 
 Then 20 
 
 980 To Call Her Mine 20 
 
 1055 Katharine Regina 20 
 
 1065 Herr Paulus: His Rise, His 
 Greatness, and His Fall 20 
 
 M. Betham-EdwavuVs Works. 
 
 273 Love and Mirage ; or.The Wait- 
 ing on an Island 10 
 
 579 The Flower of Doom.and Other 
 Stories 10 
 
 594 Doctor Jacob 20 
 
 1023 Next of Kin Wanted 20 
 
 William Black's Works. 
 
 1 Yolande 20 
 
 18 Shandon Bells 20 
 
 21 Sunrise : A Story of These 
 
 Times 20 
 
 23 A Princess of Thule 20 
 
 89 In Silk Attire 20 
 
 44 Macleod of Dare 20 
 
 49 That Beautiful Wretch 20 
 
 50 The Strange Adventures of a 
 
 Phaeton 20 
 
 70 White Wings: A Yachting Ro- 
 mance 10 
 
 78 Madcap Violet 20 
 
 81 A Daughter of Heth 20 
 
 124 Th ree Feathers 20 
 
 125 The Monarch of Mincing Lane. 20 
 
 126 Kilmeny 20 
 
 138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly. 20 
 265 Judith Shakespeare : Her Love 
 
 Affairs and Other Adventures 20 
 47-2 The Wise Women of Inverness. 10 
 
 <7 White Heather 20 
 
 898 Romeo and Juliet: A Tale of 
 
 Two Young Fools 20 
 
 962 Sabina Zembra. 1st half 20 
 
 962 Sabina Zembra. 2d half 20 
 
 11. D. Blackmore's Works. 
 
 67 Lorna Doone. 1st half 20 
 
 67 Lorna Doone. 2d half 20 
 
 427 The Remarkable History of Sir 
 Thomas Upinore, Bart., M. P. 20 
 
 615 Mary Anerley 20 
 
 625 Erema; or. My Father's Sin... 20 
 
 629 Cripps, the Carrier 20 
 
 630 Cradock Xowell. 1st half 20 
 
 630 Cradock Lowell. 2d half 20 
 
 631 Christowell. A Dartmoor Tale 20 
 
 632 ( 'lara Vaughan 20 
 
 633 The Maid of Sker. 1st half .. . . 20 
 
 633 The Maid of Sker. 2d half 20 
 
 636 Alice Lorraine. 1st half 20 
 
 636 Alice Lorraine. 2d half 20 
 
 9:26 Springhaven. 1st half 20 
 
 936 Springhaven. 2d half 20 
 
 Miss M. E. Braddon's Works. 
 
 35 Lady Audley's Secret 20 
 
 56 Phantom Fortune 20 
 
 74 Aurora Floyd 20 
 
 110 Under the Bed Flag 10 
 
 153 The Golden Calf 20 
 
 204 Vixen 20 
 
 211 The Octoroon 10 
 
 234 Barbara; or, Splendid Misery. . 20 
 
 263 An Ishmaelite 20 
 
 315 The Mistletoe Bough. Christ- 
 mas, 1884. Edited by Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon 20 
 
 434 Wyllard's Weird 20 
 
 478 Diavola; or, Nobody's Daugh- 
 ter. Parti 20 
 
 478 Diavola; or, Nobody's Daugh- 
 ter. Part II 20 
 
 480 Married in Haste. Edited by 
 
 Miss M. E. Braddon 20 
 
 487 Put to the Test. Edited by Miss 
 
 M. 1C. Braddon 20 
 
 488 Joshua Haggard's Daughter 20 
 
 489 Rupert Godwin 20 
 
 495 Mount Royal 20 
 
 496 Only a Woman. Edited by Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon 20 
 
 497 The Lady's Mile 20 
 
 498 Onlya Clod 20 
 
 499 The Cloven Foot 20 
 
 511 A Strange World 20 
 
 515 Sir Jasper's Tenant 20 
 
 524 Strangers and Pilgrims 20 
 
 529 The Doctor's Wife 20 
 
 542 Fenton's Quest 20 
 
 544 Cut by the County; or, Grace 
 
 Darnel 10 
 
 548 The Fatal Marriage, and The 
 
 Shadow in the Corner 10 
 
 549 Dudley Carleon ; or. The Broth- 
 
 er's Secret, and George Caul- 
 field's Journey 10 
 
 552 Hostages to Fortune 20 
 
 553 Birds of Prey 20 
 
 554 Charlotte's Inheritance. (Se- 
 
 quel to " Birds of Prey ") 20 
 
 557 To the Bitter End 20 
 
 559 Taken at the Flood 20 
 
 500 Asphodel 20 
 
 561 Just as I am; or. A Living Lie 20 
 
 $67 Dead Men's Shoes 20 
 
 5TO John Marchmont's Legacy.... 20 
 618 The Mistletoe Bough. Christ- 
 mas, 1885. Edited by Miss M. 
 E. Braddou 30
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 840 One Thins: Needful; or, The 
 Penalty of Fate 20 
 
 881 Mohawks. 1st half 20 
 
 881 Mohawks. 2d half 20 
 
 890 The Mistletoe Bough. Christ- 
 mas, 1886. Edited by Miss M. 
 E. Braddon 20 
 
 943 Weavers and Weft; or, " Love 
 that Hath Us in His Net " .... 20 
 
 947 Publicans and Sinners; or, 
 Lucius Da voren. 1st half 20 
 
 947 Publicans and Sinners; or, 
 
 Lucius Davoren. 2d half 20 
 
 1036 Like and Unlike 20 
 
 Works by Charlotte M. Braeme, 
 Author of " Dora Thorne." 
 
 19 Her Mother's Sin 10 
 
 51 Dora Thorne 20 
 
 54 A Broken Wedding-Ring 20 
 
 68 A Queen Amongst Women 10 
 
 69 Madolin's Lover 20 
 
 73 Redeemed by Love; or, Love's 
 
 Victory 20 
 
 76 Wife in Name Only; or, A 
 
 Broken Heart 20 
 
 79 Wedded and Parted 10 
 
 92 Lord Lynue's Choice 10 
 
 148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms.. 10 
 
 190 Romance of a Black Veil . . . 10 
 
 220 Which Loved Him Best? 10 
 
 237 Repented at Leisure. (Large 
 
 type edition) 20 
 
 967 Repented at Leisure 10 
 
 249 " Prince Charlie's Daughter ". . 10 
 
 250 Sunshine and Roses; or, Di- 
 
 ana's Discipline 10 
 
 254 The Wife's Secret, and Fair 
 
 but False 10 
 
 283 The Sin of a Lifetime; or, Viv- 
 ien's Atonement 10 
 
 287 At War With Herself 10 
 
 983 At War With Herself. (Large 
 
 type edition) 20 
 
 288 From Gloom to Sunlight; or, 
 
 From Out the Gloom 10 
 
 955 From Gloom r,o Sunlight; or, 
 From Out the Gloom. (Large 
 type edition) 20 
 
 291 Love's Warfare 10 
 
 292 A Golden Heart 10 
 
 293 The Shadow of a Sin 10 
 
 948 The Shadow of a Sin. (Large 
 
 type edition) 20 
 
 294 Hilda; or. The False Vow 10 
 
 928 H i 1 d a ; or, The False Vow. 
 
 (Large type edition) 20 
 
 295 A Woman's War 10 
 
 952 A Woman's War. (Large type 
 
 edition) 20 
 
 296 A Rose in Thorns 10 
 
 297 Hilary's Folly ; cr, Her Marriage 
 
 Vow 10 
 
 953 Hilary's Folly; or. Her Mar- 
 
 riage Vow. (Large type edi- 
 tion) 20 
 
 299 The Fatal Lilies, and A Bride 
 from the Sea 10 
 
 300 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of 
 Love 10 
 
 303 Ingledew House, and More Bit- 
 
 ter than Death 10 
 
 304 In Cupid's Net 10 
 
 305 A Dead Heart. andJLady Gwen- 
 
 doline's Dream 10 
 
 306 A Golden Dawn, and Love for 
 
 a Day 10 
 
 307 Two Kisses, and Like no Other 
 
 Love 10 
 
 308 Beyond Pardon 20 
 
 322 A Woman's Love-Story 10 
 
 323 A Willful Maid 20 
 
 411 A Bitter Atonement 20 
 
 438 My Sister Kate 10 
 
 459 A Woman's Temptation. 
 
 (Large type edition) 20 
 
 951 A Woman's Temptation 10 
 
 460 Under a Shadow 20 
 
 465 The Earl's Atonement 20 
 
 466 Between Two Loves 20 
 
 467 A Struggle for a Ring 20 
 
 469 Lady Darner's Secret; or, A 
 
 Guiding Star 20 
 
 470 Evelyn's Folly 20 
 
 471 Thrown on the World 20 
 
 476 Between Two Sins; or, Married 
 
 in Haste 10 
 
 516 Put Asunder; or, Lady Castle- 
 
 maine's Divorce 20 
 
 576 Her Martyrdom 20 
 
 626 A Fair Mystery.' 20 
 
 741 The Heiress of Hilldrop; or, 
 The Romance of a \oung 
 
 Girl 20 
 
 745 For Another's Sin ; or, A Strug- 
 gle for Love 20 
 
 792 Set in Diamonds., 20 
 
 821 The World Between Them 20 
 
 853 A True Masrdalen 20 
 
 854 A Woman's Error 20 
 
 922 Marjorie 20 
 
 924 'Twixt Smile and Tear 20 
 
 927 Sweet Cymbeline 20 
 
 929 The Belle of Lynn; or, The 
 
 Miller's Daughter 20 
 
 931 Lady Diana's Pride 20 
 
 9-TJ Claribel's Lovt-Slury; or.Love's 
 
 Hidden Depths 20 
 
 958 A Haunted Life; or, Her Terri- 
 ble Sin 20 
 
 969 The Mystery of Colde FeJl; or, 
 
 Not Proven 20 
 
 973 The Squire's Darling 20 
 
 975 A Darlc Marriage Morn 20 
 
 978 Her Second Love 20 
 
 982 The Duke's Secret 20 
 
 985 On Her Wedding Morn, and 
 
 The Mystery of the Holly-Tree 20 
 988 The Shattered Idol, and Letty 
 
 Leigh 20 
 
 990 The Earl's Error, and Arnold's 
 
 Promise 80 
 
 995 An Unnatural Bondage, and 
 
 That Beautiful Lady 20 
 
 1000 His Wife's Judgment 20 
 
 1008 A Thorn in Her Heart 20 
 
 1010 Golden Gates 20
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 1012 A Nameless Sin 20 
 
 1014 A Mad Love 20 
 
 1031 Irene's Vow 20 
 
 1052 Signal Sweetheart 20 
 
 1091 A Modern Cinderella 10 
 
 Charlotte Bronte's Works. 
 
 15 Jane Eyre 20 
 
 57 Shirley .20 
 
 944 The Professor 20 
 
 Rhoda Broughton's Works. 
 
 86 Belinda 20 
 
 101 Second Thoughts 20 
 
 227 Nancy 20 
 
 645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains 10 
 
 758 " Good-bye, Sweetheart!" 20 
 
 765 Not Wisely, But Too Well 20 
 
 767 Joan 20 
 
 768 Red as a Rose is She 20 
 
 769 Cometh Up as a Flower 20 
 
 862 Betty's Visions 10 
 
 894 Doctor Cupid 20 
 
 3Iary E. Bryan's Works. 
 
 731 The Bayou Bride 20 
 
 857 Kildee; or, The Sphinx of the 
 
 Red House. 1st half 20 
 
 857 Kildee; or, The Sphinx of the 
 
 RedHouse. 2d half 20 
 
 Robert Buchanan's Works. 
 
 145 "Storm- Beaten: "God and The 
 
 Man 20 
 
 154 Annan Water 20 
 
 181 The New Abelard 10 
 
 398 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. .. 10 
 
 646 The Master of the Mine 20 
 
 892 That Winter Night; or, Love's 
 
 Victory 10 
 
 1074 Stormy Waters 20 
 
 Captain Fred Burnaby's Works. 
 
 375 A Ride to Khiva 20 
 
 384 On Horseback Through Asia 
 Minor.... 20 
 
 E. Fairfax Byrrne's Works. 
 
 521 Entangled 20 
 
 538 A Fair Country Maid. 20 
 
 Hall Caine's Works. 
 
 445 The Shadow of a Crime 20 
 
 520 She's All the World to Me 10 
 
 Mrs. H. Liovett Cameron's Works. 
 
 595 A North Country Maid 20 
 
 796 In a Grass Country 20 
 
 891 Vera Nevill; or, Poor Wisdom's 
 
 Chance 20 
 
 912 Pure Gold. Isthalf 20 
 
 912 Pure Gold. 2d half 20 
 
 963 Worth Winning 20 
 
 1025 Daisy's Dilemma 20 
 
 1070 A Life's Mistake 20 
 
 Rosa Nouchette Carey's Works. 
 
 215 Not Like Other Girls 20 
 
 396 Robert Ord's Atonement 20 
 
 551 Barbara Heathcote's Trial. 1st 
 
 half 20 
 
 551 Barbara Heathcote's Trial. 2d 
 
 half 20 
 
 608 For Lilias. Isthalf 20 
 
 608 For Lilias. 2d half 20 
 
 930 Uncle Max. Isthalf 20 
 
 930 Uncle Max. 2d half 20 
 
 932 Queenie's Whim. Isthalf 20 
 
 033 Queenie's Whim. 2d half 20 
 
 934 Wooed and Married. Isthalf. 20 
 934 Wooed and Married. 2d half. 20 
 936 Nellie's Memories. 1st half. . . 20 
 930 Nellie's Memories. 2d half... 20 
 
 961 Wee Wine 20 
 
 1033 Esther: A Story for Girls 20 
 
 1064 Only the Governess 20 
 
 .Lewis Carroll's Works. 
 
 462 Alice's Adventures in Wonder- 
 land. Illustrated by John 
 Tenniel 20 
 
 789 Through the Looking-Glass, 
 and What Alice Found There. 
 Illustrated by John Tenniel.. 20 
 
 Wilkie Collins's Works. 
 
 52 The New Magdalen 10 
 
 102 The Moonstone 20 
 
 167 Heart and Science 20 
 
 168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 
 
 and Collins 10 
 
 175 Love's Random Shot, and 
 
 Other Stories 10 
 
 233 " I Say No ;" or, The Love-Let- 
 ter Answered 20 
 
 508 The Girl at the Gate 10 
 
 591 The Queen of Hearts 20 
 
 613 The Ghost's Touch, and Percy 
 
 and the Prophet 10 
 
 623 My Ladv's Money 10 
 
 701 The Wo'man in White. Isthalf 20 
 
 701 The Woman in White. 2d half 20 
 
 702 Man and Wife. 1st half. 20 
 
 70J Man and Wife. 2d half 20 
 
 764 The Evil Genius 20 
 
 896 The Guilty River 20 
 
 946 The Dead Secret 20 
 
 977 The Haunted Hotel 20 
 
 1029 Armadale. 1st half. 20 
 
 1029 Armadale. 2d half 20 
 
 Mabel Collins's Works. 
 749 Lord Vanecourt's Daughter. . . 20 
 828 The PrettiestWoman in Warsaw 20 
 
 Hugh Conway's Works. 
 
 240 Called Back 10 
 
 251 The Daughter of the Stars, and 
 Other Tales 10 
 
 301 Dark Days 10 
 
 302 The Blatchf ord Bequest 10 
 
 502 Carriston's Gift 10 
 
 525 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories 10 
 543 A Family Affair 20
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 601 Slings and Arrows, and Other 
 
 Stories 10 
 
 711 A Cardinal Sin 20 
 
 804 Living or Dead 20 
 
 830 Bound by a Spell 20 
 
 J. Fenimnre Cooper's Works. 
 
 60 The Last of the Mohicans 20 
 
 63 The Spy 20 
 
 309 The Pathfinder 20 
 
 310 The Prairie 20 
 
 318 The Pioneers; or, The Sources 
 
 of the Susquehanna 20 
 
 849 The Two Admirals 20 
 
 359 The Water- Witch 20 
 
 861 The Red Rover 20 
 
 373 Wing and Wing 20 
 
 378 Homeward Bound; or, The 
 
 Chase 20 
 
 379 Home as Found. (Sequel to 
 
 " Homeward Bound") 20 
 
 380 Wyandotte; or, The Hutted 
 
 Knoll 20 
 
 385 The Headsman ; or, The Ab- 
 
 baye des Vignerons 20 
 
 394 The Bravo 20 
 
 397 Lionel Lincoln; or, The Leag- 
 uer of Boston 20 
 
 400 The W r ept of Wish-Tou-Wish. . . 20 
 
 413 Afloat and Ashore 20 
 
 414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 
 
 " Afloat and Ashore ") 20 
 
 415 The Ways of the Hour 20 
 
 416 Jack Tier: or. The Florida Reef 20 
 410 TheChainbearer; or,The Little- 
 page Manuscripts 20 
 
 420 Sataustoe; or, The Littlepage 
 
 Manuscripts 20 
 
 421 The Redskins; or, Indian and 
 
 Injin. Being the conclusion 
 of the Littlepage Manuscripts 20 
 
 422 Precaution 20 
 
 423 The Sea Lions; or. The Lost 
 
 Sealers 20 
 
 424 Mercedes of Castile; or, The 
 
 Voyage to Cathay 20 
 
 425 The Oak-Openings ; or. The Bee- 
 
 Hunter 20 
 
 431 The Monikins 20 
 
 1062 The Deerslayer; or. The First 
 
 War-Path. 1st half 20 
 
 1062 The Deerslayer; or. The First 
 
 War-Path. 2d half 20 
 
 Georgiana M. Craik's Works. 
 
 450 Godfrey Helstone 20 
 
 606 Mrs. Hollyer 20 
 
 B. M. Croker's Works. 
 
 207 Pretty Miss Neville 20 
 
 260 Proper Pride 10 
 
 412 Some One Else 20 
 
 May Crommelin's Works. 
 
 452 In the West Countrie 20 
 
 619 Jov ; or. The Light of Cold- 
 Home Ford 20 
 
 647 Goblin Gold ... 10 
 
 Alphonse Daudet's Works. 
 
 534 Jack 20 
 
 574 The Nabob: A Story of Parisian 
 
 Life and Manners 20 
 
 Charles Dickons' N Works. 
 
 10 The Old Curiosity Shop 20 
 
 22 David Copperfleld. Vol. 1 20 
 
 22 David Copperfleld. Vol. II.... 20 
 
 24 Pickwick Papers. Vol.1 20 
 
 24 Pickwick Papers. Vol. II 20 
 
 37 Nicholas Nickleby. 1st half... 20 
 37 Nicholas Nickleby. 2dhalf.... 20 
 
 41 Oliver Twist 20 
 
 77 A Tale of Two Cities 20 
 
 84 Hard Times 10 
 
 91 Barnaby Rudge. 1st half 20 
 
 91 Barnabv Rudge. 2d half 20 
 
 94 Little Dorrit. 1st half 20 
 
 94 Little Dorrit. 2d half 20 
 
 106 Bleak House. 1st half 20 
 
 106 Bleak House. 2d half 20 
 
 107 Dombey and Son. 1st half .... 20 
 
 107 Dombey and Son. 2d half 20 
 
 108 The Cricket on the Hearth, and 
 
 Doctor Marigold 10 
 
 131 Our Mutual Friend. 1st half. . 20 
 
 131 Our Mutual Friend. 2dhalf... 20 
 
 132 Master Humphrey's Clock 10 
 
 152 The Uncommercial Traveler... 20 
 
 168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 
 
 and Collins 10 
 
 169 The Haunted Man 10 
 
 437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
 
 Chuzzlewit. 1st half 20 
 
 437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
 
 Chuzzlewit. 2d half 20 
 
 439 Great Expectations 20 
 
 440 Mrs. Lirriper's Lodgings 10 
 
 447 American Notes 20 
 
 448 Pictures From Italy, and The 
 
 Mudfog Papers. &c 20 
 
 454 The Mystery of Edwin Drood.. 20 
 456 Sketches by Boz. Illustrative 
 of Every -day Life and Every- 
 day People 20 
 
 676 A Child's History of England. 20 
 
 Surah Doudney's Works. 
 
 338 The Family Difficulty 10 
 
 679 Where Two Ways Meet 10 
 
 F. Du Boisgotoey's Works. 
 
 82 Sealed Lips 20 
 
 104 The Coral Pin. 1st half 20 
 
 104 The Coral Pin. 2d half 20 
 
 204 Piedouche, a French Detective. 10 
 328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 
 
 First half 20 
 
 328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 
 
 Second half 20 
 
 453 The Lottery Ticket 20 
 
 475 The Prima Donna's Husband.. 20 
 
 522 Zig-Zag, the Clown ; or, The 
 
 Steel Gauntlets 20 
 
 523 The Consequences of a Duel. A 
 
 Parisian Romance 20 
 
 648 The Angel of the Bells 20
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 697 The Pretty Jailer. 1st half ... 20 
 
 61)7 The Pretty Jailer. 2d half 20 
 
 099 The Sculptor's Daughter. 1st 
 
 half 20 
 
 699 The Sculptor's Daughter. 2d 
 
 half 20 
 
 785i The Closed Door. 1st half. ... 20 
 783 The Closed Door. 2d half. ... 20 
 851 The Cry of Blood. 1st half... 20 
 851 The Cry of Blood. 2d half... . 20 
 
 918 The Red Band. 1st half 20 
 
 918 The Red Baud. 2d half 20 
 
 942 Cash on Delivery 20 
 
 1076 The Mystery of an Omnibus.. 20 
 
 1080 Bertha's Secret. 1st hah' SO 
 
 1080 Bertha's Secret. 2d half 20 
 
 1082 The Severed Hand. 1st half . . 20 
 1082 The Severed Hand. 2d half.. 20 
 1085 The Matapan Affair. 1st half 20 
 1085 The Matapan Affair. 2d half 20 
 1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 
 
 coq. 1st half 20 
 
 1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 
 coq. 2d half 20 
 
 'The Duchess's" Wonss. 
 
 2 Molly Bawn 20 
 
 6 Portia 20 
 
 14 Airy Fairy Lilian 10 
 
 16 Phyllis 20 
 
 25 Mrs. Geoffrey. (Large type 
 
 edition) 20 
 
 950 Mrs. Geoffrey 10 
 
 29 Beauty's Daughters 10 
 
 30 Faith and Unfaith 20 
 
 118 Loys, Lord Berresford, and 
 
 EricDering 10 
 
 119 Monica, and A Rose Distill'd. . 10 
 
 123 Sweet is True Love 10 
 
 129 Rossmoyne 10 
 
 134 The Witching Hour, and Other 
 
 Stories 10 
 
 136 "That Last Rehearsal," and 
 
 Other Stories 10 
 
 166 Moonshine and Marguerites. .. 10 
 171 Fortune's Wheel, and Other 
 
 Stories 10 
 
 284 Doris 10 
 
 312 A Week's Amusement; or, A 
 
 Week in Killarney 10 
 
 342 The Baby, and One New Year's 
 
 Eve 10 
 
 390 Mildred Treranion 10 
 
 404 In Durance Vile, and Other 
 
 Stories 10 
 
 488 Dick's Sweetheart 20 
 
 494 A Maiden All Forlorn, and Bar- 
 bara 10 
 
 517 A Passive Crime, and Other 
 
 Stories 10 
 
 541 "As It Fell Upon a Day." 10 
 
 733 Lady Branksmere 20 
 
 771 A Mental Struggle 20 
 
 785 The Haunted Chamber 10 
 
 862 Ugly Barrington 10 
 
 875 Lady Vahvorth's Diamonds.. . 20 
 1009 In an Evil Hour, and Other 
 
 Stories r. . 20 
 
 1016 A Modern Circe 20 
 
 1035 The Duchess 20 
 
 1047 Marvel 20 
 
 Alexander Dumas' s Works* 
 
 55 The Three Guardsmen 20 
 
 75 Twenty Years After 20 
 
 259 The Bride of Monte-Cristo. A 
 Sequel to "The Count of 
 Moute-Cristo " 10 
 
 262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 
 
 Part 1 30 
 
 262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 
 
 Part II... 30 
 
 717 Beau Tancrede; or, The Mar- 
 riage Verdict 20 
 
 1053 Masaniello; or, The Fisherman 
 of Naples 20 
 
 George Ebers's Works. 
 
 474 Serapis. An Historical Novel 20 
 
 983 Uarda 20 
 
 1056 The Bride of the Nile. 1st half 20 
 1056 The Bride of the Nile. 2d half 20 
 
 t 
 Maria Edge worth's Works. 
 
 708 Ormond 20 
 
 788 The Absentee. An Irish Story. 20 
 
 Mrs. Annie Edwards's Works. 
 
 644 A Girton Girl 20 
 
 834 A Ballroom Repentance 20 
 
 835 Vivian the Beauty 20 
 
 836 A Point of Honor 20 
 
 837 A Vagabond Heroine 10 
 
 838 Ought We to Visit Her? 20 
 
 839 Leah: A Woman of Fashion... 20 
 
 841 Jet: Her Face or Her Fortune? 10 
 
 842 A Blue-Stocking 10 
 
 843 Archie Lovell 20 
 
 844 Susan Fielding 20 
 
 845 Philip Earnscliffe; or, The Mor- 
 
 als of May Fair 20 
 
 846 Steven Lawrence. 1st half 20 
 
 Steven Lawrence. 2d half 20 
 
 850 A Playwright's Daughter 10 
 
 George Eliot's Works. 
 
 3 The Mill on the Floss 20 
 
 31 Middlemarch. 1st half: 20 
 
 31 Middlemarch. 2d half 20 
 
 34 Daniel Deronda. 1st half 20 
 
 34 Daniel Deronda. 2d half 20 
 
 36 Adam Bed e. 1st half 20 
 
 36 Adam Bede. 2d half 20 
 
 42 Romola '. 20 
 
 693 Felix Holt, the Radical 20 
 
 707 Silas Manner: The Weaver of 
 
 Raveloe 10 
 
 728 Janet's Repentance 10 
 
 762 Impressions of Theophrastus 
 Such 10 
 
 B. L,. Farjeon's Works. 
 
 179 Little Make- Believe 10 
 
 573 Love's Harvest 20 
 
 607 Self-Doomed 10
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 616 The Sacred Nugget 
 
 657 Christinas Angel 
 
 907 The Bright Star of Life. 
 909 The Nine of Hearts 
 
 G. Manville Feiiii's Works, 
 
 193 The Rosery Folk 10 
 
 558 Poverty Corner 20 
 
 587 The Parson o' Dumford 20 
 
 609 The Dark House . 10 
 
 Octave Feuillet's Works. 
 
 66 The Romance of a Poor Young 
 
 Man 10 
 
 386 Led Astray ; or, " La Petite 
 Comtesse " 10 
 
 Mrs. Forrester's Works. 
 
 80 June 20 
 
 280 Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of So- 
 ciety 10 
 
 484 Although He Was a Lord, and 
 
 Other Tales 10 
 
 715 I Have Lived and Loved 20 
 
 721 Dolores 20 
 
 724 My Lord and My Lady 20 
 
 726 My Hero 20 
 
 727 Fair Women 20 
 
 729 Mignon 20 
 
 732 From Olympus to Hades 20 
 
 734 Viva 20 
 
 736 Roy and Viola 20 
 
 740 Rhona 20 
 
 744 Diana Carew ; or, For a Wom- 
 an's Sake 20 
 
 883 Once Again 30 
 
 Jessie Fothergill's Works. 
 
 314 Peril 20 
 
 572 Heaiey 20 
 
 935 Borderland 20 
 
 It. . Francillon's Works. 
 
 135 A Great Heiress: A Fortune 
 
 in Seven Checks 10 
 
 319 Face to Face : A Fact in Seven 
 
 Fables 10 
 
 360 Ropes of Sand 20 
 
 656 The Golden Flood. By R. E. 
 
 Francillou and Wm. Senior.. 10 
 
 911 Golden Bells 20 
 
 Entile Gaborian's Works. 
 
 7 File No. 113 20 
 
 12 Other People's Money 20 
 
 20 Within an Inch of His Life. . . 20 
 
 26 Monsieur Lecoq. Vol 1 20 
 
 26 Monsieur Lecoq. Vol. II 20 
 
 33 The Clique of Gold 20 
 
 38 The Widow Lerouge 20 
 
 43 The Mystery of Orcival 20 
 
 144 Promise* of Marriage 10 
 
 979 The Count's Secret. Part I. . . 20 
 979 The Count's Secret. Part II. . 20 
 
 1002 Marriage at a Venture 20 
 
 1015 A Thousand Francs Reward . . 20 
 1045 The 13th Hussars 20 
 
 1078 The Slaves of Paris. 1st half 20 
 1078 The Slaves of Paris. 2d half. 20 
 1083 The Little Old Man of the Bat- 
 ignolles 10 
 
 Charles Gibbon's Works. 
 
 64 A Maiden Fair 10 
 
 317 By Mead and Stream ; . . 20 
 
 James Grant's Works. 
 
 566 The Royal Highlanders ; or, 
 
 The Black Watch in Egypt.. . 20 
 781 The Secret Dispatch 10 
 
 Miss Grant's Works. 
 
 222 The Sun-Maid 20 
 
 555 Cara Roma SO 
 
 Arthur Gri (Bias's Works. 
 
 614 No. 99 10 
 
 680 Fast and Loose 20 
 
 H. Rider Haggard's Works. 
 433 The Witch's Head . 2O 
 
 753 King Solomon's Mines -...20 
 
 910 She: A History of Adventure. 20 
 
 941 Jess 20 
 
 959 Dawn 20 
 
 989 Allan Quatermain 20 
 
 1049 A Tale of Three Lions, and On 
 Going Back 20 
 
 Thomas Hardy's Works. 
 
 139 The Romantic Adventures of 
 
 a Milkmaid 10 
 
 530 A Pair of Blue Eyes 20 
 
 690 Far From the Madding Crowd. 20 
 791 The Mayor of Casterbridge. ... 20 
 
 945 The Trumpet-Major 20 
 
 957 The Woodlauders 20 
 
 John IJ. Harwood's Works. 
 
 143 One False, Both Fair 20 
 
 358 Within the Clasp 20 
 
 Mary Cecil Hay's Works. 
 
 65 Back to the Old Home 10 
 
 72 Old Myddelton's Money 20 
 
 196 Hidden Perils 20 
 
 197 For Her Dear Sake 20 
 
 224 The Aruudel Motto 20 
 
 281 The Squire's Legacy 20 
 
 290 Nora's Love Test 20 
 
 408 Lester's Secret 20 
 
 678 Dorothy's Venture 20 
 
 71fi Victor and Vanquished 20 
 
 849 A Wicked Girl 20 
 
 987 Brenda Yorke 20 
 
 1026 A Dark Inheritance 20 
 
 Airs. Cashel-Hoey's Works. 
 
 313 The Lover's Creed 20 
 
 K)2 A Stern Chase SO 
 
 Tighe Hopkins'* Works. 
 
 509 Nell Haffenden 20 
 
 714 'Twixt Love and Duty SO
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 Works by the Author of "Judith 
 Wynne." 
 
 332 Judith Wynne 20 
 
 506 Lady Lovelace 20 
 
 William H. G. Kingston's Works. 
 
 117 A Tale of the Shore and Ocean. 20 
 
 133 Peter the Whaler 10 
 
 761 Will Weatherhelm 20 
 
 763 The Midshipman, Marmaduke 
 Merry 20 
 
 Vernon Tree's Works. 
 
 399 Miss Brown 20 
 
 859 Ottilie: An Eighteenth Century 
 Idyl. By Vernon Lee. The 
 Prince of the 100 Soups. Edit- 
 ed by Vernon Lee 20 
 
 Charles Lever's Works. 
 
 191 Harry Lorrequer 20 
 
 212 Charles O'Malley. the Irish Dra- 
 goon. 1st half 20 
 
 212 Charles O'Malley, the Irish Dra- 
 goon. 2d half 20 
 
 243 Tom Burke of "Ours." 1st half 20 
 243 Tom Burke of " Ours." 2dhalf 20 
 
 Mary Linskill's Works. 
 
 473 A Lost Son 20 
 
 620 Between the Heather and the 
 Northern Sea 20 
 
 Mrs. E. Lynn Union'.* Works. 
 
 122 lone Stewart 20 
 
 817 Stabbed in the Dark 10 
 
 886 Paston Carew, Millionaire and 
 
 Miser 20 
 
 Samuel Lover's Works. 
 
 663 Handy Andy 20 
 
 664 Rory O'More 20 
 
 Sir E, Bulwer Ly (ton's Works. 
 
 40 The Last Days of Pompeii 20 
 
 S3 A Strange Story 20 
 
 90 Ernest Maltravers 20 
 
 130 The Last of the Barons. 1st half 20 
 130 The Last of the Barons. 2d half 20 
 
 162 Eugene Aram 20 
 
 164 Leila ; or. The Siege of Grenada 10 
 650 Alice : or, The Mysteries. (A Se- 
 quel to "Ernest Maltravers") 20 
 720 Paul Clifford 20 
 
 George Macilonald's Works. 
 
 282 Donal Grant 20 
 
 325 The Portqpt 10 
 
 326 Phantastes. A Faerie Romance 
 
 for Men and Women 30 
 
 722 What's Mine's Mine 20 
 
 1041 Home Again 20 
 
 Katharine S. Macquoid's Works' 
 
 479 Louisa 20 
 
 914 Joan Wentworth .... 
 
 E. Marlitt's Works. 
 
 652 The Lady with the Rubies. ... 20 
 
 858 Old Ma'm'selle's Secret 20 
 
 972 Gold Elsie 20 
 
 999 The Second Wife 80 
 
 Florence Marryat's Works. 
 
 159 Captain Norton's Diary, and 
 
 A Moment of Madness 10 
 
 183 Old Contrairy, and Other 
 
 Stories 10 
 
 208 The Ghost of Charlotte Cray, 
 
 and Other Stories 10 
 
 276 Under the Lilies and Roses. . . 10 
 
 444 The Heart of Jane Warner 20 
 
 449 Peeress and Player 20 
 
 689 The Heir Presnmpti ve 20 
 
 825 The Master Passion 20 
 
 860 Her Lord and Master 20 
 
 861 My Sister the Actress 20 
 
 863 " My Own Child." 20 
 
 864 " No Intentions." 20 
 
 865 Written in Fire 20 
 
 866 Miss Harrington's Husband; 
 
 or, Spiders of Society 20 
 
 867 The Girls of Feversham 20 
 
 868 Petronel 20 
 
 869 The Poison of Asps 10 
 
 870 Out of His Reckoning 10 
 
 872 With Cupid's Eyes 20 
 
 873 A Harvest of W'ild Oats 20 
 
 877 Facing the Footlights 20 
 
 893 Love's Conflict. 1st half 20 
 
 893 Love's Conflict. 2d half . ; . . . 20 
 
 895 A Star and a Heart 10 
 
 897 Ange 20 
 
 899 A Little Stepson 10 
 
 901 A Lucky Disappointment 10 
 
 903 Phyllida 20 
 
 905 The Fair-Haired Alda 20 
 
 939 Why Not? 20 
 
 993 Fighting the Air 20 
 
 998 Open Sesame 20 
 
 1004 Mad Dumaresq 20. 
 
 1013 The Confessions of Gerald Est- 
 
 court 20 
 
 1022 Driven to Bay 20 
 
 Captain Marryat's Works. 
 
 88 The Privateersman 20 
 
 272 The Little Savage 10 
 
 991 Mr. Midshipman Easy 20 
 
 Helen B. Mathers's Works. 
 
 13 Eyre's Acquittal 10 
 
 221 Comin' Thro' the Rye 20 
 
 438 Found Out 10 
 
 535 Murder or Manslaughter? 10 
 
 673 Story of a Sin 20 
 
 713 " Cherry Ripe " 20 
 
 795 Sam's Sweetheart 20 
 
 798 The Fashion of this World. ... 10 
 
 799 My Lady Green Sleeves 20 
 
 Justin McCarthy's Works. 
 
 121 Maid of Athens 20 
 
 602 Camiola 20 
 
 685 England Under Gladstone. 
 18801885 20
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 
 
 by Justin H. McCarthy, M.P.. 10 
 779 Doom! An Atlantic Episode... 10 
 
 Mrs, Alex. McVeigh Miller's 
 Works. 
 
 267 Laurel Vane; or, The Girls' 
 
 Conspiracy 80 
 
 268 Lady Gay's Pride; or, The 
 
 Miser's Treasure 20 
 
 269 Lancaster's Choice 20 
 
 316 Sworn to Silance; or, Aline 
 
 Rodney's Secret 20 
 
 Jean Middlemas's Works. 
 
 155 Lady Muriel's Secret 20 
 
 539 Silvertnead 20 
 
 Alan Muir's Works. 
 
 172 " Golden Girls " 20 
 
 346 Tumbledown Farm 10 
 
 Miss Mulock's Works* 
 
 11 John Halifax, Gentleman. 1st 
 
 half 20 
 
 11 John Halifax, Gentleman. 2d 
 
 half 20 
 
 245 Miss Tommy, and In a House- 
 Boat 10 
 
 808 King Arthur. Not a Love Story 20 
 
 1018 Two Marriages 20 
 
 1038 Mistress and Maid 20 
 
 1053 Young Mrs. Jardine 20 
 
 David Christie Murray's Works. 
 
 58 By the Gate of the Sea 10 
 
 195 " The Way of the World " 20 
 
 3;!0 A Bit of Human Nature 10 
 
 661 Rainbow Gold 20 
 
 674 First Person Singular 20 
 
 691 Valentine Strange 20 
 
 695 Hearts: Queen, Knave, and 
 
 Deuce 20 
 
 698 A Life's Atonement :.'0 
 
 737 Aunt Raehe 1 10 
 
 826 Cynic Fortune 20 
 
 898 Bulldog- and Butterfly, and Julia 
 and Her Romeo 20 
 
 Works by the author of "My 
 Ducats and My Daughter." 
 
 370 The Crime of Christmas Day. 10 
 596 My Ducats and My Daughter. .. 20 
 
 W. E. Norris's Works. 
 
 184 Thirlby Hall 20 
 
 277 A Man of His Word 10 
 
 355 That Terrible Man 10 
 
 500 Adrian Vidal 20 
 
 824 Her Own Doing 10 
 
 848 My Friend Jim 20 
 
 871 A Bachelor's Blunder 20 
 
 1019 Major and Minor. 1st half 20 
 
 1019 Major and Minor. 2d half 20 
 
 1084 Chris 20 
 
 Laurence Oliuhant's Works. 
 
 47 Altiora Peto 20 
 
 637 Piccadilly 10 
 
 Mrs. Oliphiint's Works. 
 
 45 A Little Pilgrim 10 
 
 177 Salem Chapel 20 
 
 205 The Minister's Wife 30 
 
 321 The Prodigals, and Their In- 
 heritance 10 
 
 337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 
 Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
 including some Chronicles of 
 
 the Borough of Fendie 20 
 
 345 Madam 20 
 
 351 The House on theMoor 20 
 
 357 John 20 
 
 370 Lucy Crofton 10 
 
 371 Margaret Maitland 20 
 
 377 Magdalen Hepburn : A Story of 
 
 the Scottish Reformation 20 
 
 402 Lilliesleaf ; or, Passages in the 
 Life of Mrs. Margaret Mait- 
 land of Sunnyside 20 
 
 410 Old Lady Mary 10 
 
 527 The Davs of My Life 20 
 
 528 At His Gates 20 
 
 568 The Perpetual Curate 20 
 
 569 Harry Muir 20 
 
 603 Agnes. 1st half 20 
 
 603 Agnes. 2d half 20 
 
 604 Innocent. 1st half 20 
 
 604 Innocent. 2d half 20 
 
 605 Ombra 20 
 
 645 Oliver's Bride 10 
 
 655 The Open Door,and The Portrait 10 
 
 687 A Country Gentleman 20 
 
 703 A House Divided Against Itself 20 
 710 The Greatest Heiress in England 20 
 
 827 Effie Ogilvie 20 
 
 880 The Son of His Father 20 
 
 903 A Poor Gentleman 20 
 
 " Ouida's " Works. 
 
 4 Under Two Flags 20 
 
 9 Wanria, Countess von Szalras. 20 
 
 110 Moths 20 
 
 128 Afternoon, and Other Sketches 10 
 
 220 Friendship 20 
 
 2-,>8 Princess Napraxine 20 
 
 238 Pascarel 20 
 
 239 Signa 20 
 
 433 A Rainy June 10 
 
 639 Othmar. 1st half 20 
 
 <53'. Othmar. 2d half 20 
 
 671 Don Gesualdo 10 
 
 672 In Maremma. 1st half 20 
 
 672 In Maremma. 2d half 20 
 
 House Party 10 
 
 974 Strathmore; or, Wrought by 
 
 His Own Hand. 1st half 20 
 
 974 Strathmore; or, Wrought by 
 
 His Own Hand. 2d half 20 
 
 981 Granvillede Vigne; or, Held in 
 
 Bondage. 1st half 20 
 
 981 Granville de Vijne; or, Held in 
 
 Bondage. 2d half 20 
 
 996 Idalia. 1st half 20 
 
 '.KM; Idalia. 2d half 20 
 
 KKH) Puck. 1st half 20 
 
 1000 Puck. 2d half 20 
 
 1003 Chaudos. 1st half 20
 
 10 
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 1003 Chandos. 2d half 20 
 
 1017 Tricotrin. 1st half 20 
 
 1017 Tricotrin. 2d half 20 
 
 James Fayn's Works. 
 
 48 Thicker Than Water 20 
 
 186 The Canon's Ward 20 
 
 343 The Talk of the Town 20 
 
 577 In Peril and Privation 10 
 
 589 The Luck of the Darrells 20 
 
 823 The Heir of the Ages. 20 
 
 Miss Jane Porter's Works. 
 
 60 The Scottish Chiefs. 1st half. . 20 
 660 The Scottish Chiefs. 2dhalf.. 20 
 696 Thaddeus of Warsaw 20 
 
 Cecil Power's Works. 
 
 336 Philistia 20 
 
 611 Babylon 20 
 
 Mrs. Campbell Praed's Works. 
 
 428 Zero: A Story of Monte-Carlo. 10 
 
 477 Affinities 10 
 
 811 The Head Station 20 
 
 Eleanor C. Price's Works. 
 
 173 The Foreigners 20 
 
 831 Gerald 20 
 
 Charles Reade's Works. 
 
 46 Very Hard Cash 20 
 
 98 A Woman-Hater 20 
 
 206 The Picture, and Jack of All 
 
 Trades 10 
 
 210 Readiana: Comments on Cur- 
 rent Events 10 
 
 213 A Terrible Temptation 20 
 
 214 Put Yourself in His Place 20 
 
 216 Foul Play 20 
 
 231 Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy... 20 
 
 232 Love and Money ; or, A Perilous 
 
 Secret 10 
 
 235 "It is Never Too Late to 
 Mend. " A Matter-of -Fact Ro- 
 mance 20 
 
 Mrs. J. II. Riddell's Works. 
 
 71 A Struggle for Fame 20 
 
 593 Berna Boyle 20 
 
 1007 Miss Uascoigne 20 
 
 1077 The Nun's Curse 20 
 
 "Rita's" Works. 
 
 252 A Sinless Secret 
 
 446 Dame Durden 
 
 598 " Corinna." A Study. . . . 
 617 Like Dian's Kiss 
 
 V. W. Robinson's Works. 
 
 157 Milly'sHero 20 
 
 217 The' Man She Cared For 20 
 
 261 A Fair Maid 20 
 
 455 Lazarus in London 20 
 
 590 The Courting of Mary Smith. . 20 
 
 1005 99 Dark Street 20 
 
 W. Clark Russell's Works. 
 
 85 A Sea Queen 20 
 
 109 Little Loo 20 
 
 180 Round the Galley Fire 10 
 
 209 John Holdsworth. Chief Mate. 10 
 
 223 A Sailor's Sweetheart 20 
 
 592 A Strange Voyage 20 
 
 682 In the Middle Watch. Sea 
 
 Stories 20 
 
 743 Jack's Courtship. 1st half. . . 20 
 743 Jack's Courtship. 2d half.... 20 
 
 884 A Voyage to the Cape 20 
 
 916 The Golden Hope 20 
 
 1044 The Frozen Pirate 20 
 
 1048 The Wreck of the "Grosvenor " 20 
 
 Adeline Sergeant's Works. 
 
 257 Beyond Recall 10 
 
 812 No Saint. 20 
 
 Sir Walter Scott's Works. 
 28 Ivanhoe 20 
 
 201 The Monastery 20 
 
 202 The Abbot. (Sequel to " The 
 
 Monastery ") 20 
 
 353 The Black Dwarf, and A Le- 
 gend of Montrose 20 
 
 362 The Bride of Lammermoor. . . 20 
 
 363 The Surgeon's Daughter 10 
 
 364 Castle Dangerous 10 
 
 391 The Heart of Mid-Lothian.... 20 
 
 392 Peveril of the Peak 20 
 
 393 The Pirate 20 
 
 401 Waverley 20 
 
 417 The Fair Maid of Perth ; or, St. 
 
 Valentine's Day 20 
 
 418 St. Ronan's Well 20 
 
 463 Redgauntlet. A Tale of the 
 
 Eighteenth Century 20 
 
 507 Chronicles of the Canongate, 
 
 and Other Stories 10 
 
 1060 The Lady of the Lake 20 
 
 1063 Kenilworth. 1st half 20 
 
 1063 Kenil worth. 2d half 20 
 
 William Sime's Works. 
 
 429 Boulderstone : or, New Men and 
 
 Old Populations 10 
 
 580 The Red Route 20 
 
 597 Haco the Dreamer 10 
 
 649 Cradle and Spade 20 
 
 Hawley Smart's Works. 
 
 348 From Post to Finish. A Racing 
 
 Romance 20 
 
 367 Tie and Trick 20 
 
 550 Struck Down 10 
 
 847 Bad to Beat 10 
 
 925 The Outsider. 20 
 
 Frank . Smedley's Works. 
 
 333 Frank Fairlegh; or, Scenes 
 
 from the Life of a Private 
 
 Pupil 20 
 
 562 Lewis Arundel; or, The Rail- 
 road of Life 20 
 
 T. W. 8peigbt's Works. 
 
 150 For Himself Alone 10 
 
 653 A Barre'n Title 10
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 11 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson's Works. 
 
 686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll aud 
 
 Mr. Hyde 10 
 
 704 Prince Otto 10 
 
 833 Kidnapped 20 
 
 855 The Dynamiter 20 
 
 856 New Arabian Nights 20 
 
 888 Treasure Island 10 
 
 889 An Inland Voyage 10 
 
 940 The Merry Men, and Other 
 
 Tales and Fables 20 
 
 1051 The Misadventures of John 
 Nicholson 10 
 
 Julian Sturgis's Works. 
 
 405 My Friends and I. Edited by 
 
 Julian Sturgis 10 
 
 694 Jolm Maidment 30 
 
 Eugene Sue's Works. 
 
 270 The Wandering Jew. Part I... 30 
 
 270 The Wandering Jew. Part II. . 30 
 
 271 The Mysteries of Paris. Part I. 30 
 871 The Mysteries of Paris. Part II. 30 
 
 George Temple's Works. 
 
 599 Lancelot Ward, M.P 10 
 
 642 Britta 10 
 
 William M. Thackeray's Works. 
 
 27 Vanity Fair. 1st half 20 
 
 27 Vanity Fair. 2d half 20 
 
 165 The History of Heury Esmond. 20 
 
 464 The Newcomes. Part 1 20 
 
 464 The Newcomes. Part II 20 
 
 670 The Rose and the Ring. Illus- 
 trated 10 
 
 Works by the Author of "The 
 Two Miss Flemings." 
 
 637 What's His Offence? 20 
 
 780 Rare Pale Margaret 20 
 
 784 The Two Miss Flemings 20 
 
 831 Pomegranate Seed 20 
 
 Annie Thomas's Works. 
 
 141 She Loved Him ! 10 
 
 142 Jenifer 20 
 
 565 No Medium 10 
 
 Bertha Thomas's Works. 
 
 389 Ichabod. A Portrait 10 
 
 900 Elizabeth's Fortune. 20 
 
 Count I-yof Tolstoi's Works. 
 
 1066 My Husband and 1 10 
 
 1069 Polikouchka 10 
 
 1071 The Death of Ivau Iliitch 10 
 
 1073 Two Generations 10 
 
 1090 The Cossacks 20 
 
 Anthony Trollope's Works. 
 
 32 The Land Leaguers 20 
 
 93 Anthony Trollope's Autobiog- 
 raphy 20 
 
 147 Rachel' Ray 20 
 
 200 An Old Man's Love 10 
 
 631 The Prime Minister. 1st half.. 20 
 631 The Prime Minister. 2d half. . . 20 
 
 621 The Warden 10 
 
 622 Harry Heathcote of Gangoil.. 10 
 667 The Golden Lion of Granpere . 20 
 
 700 Ralph the Heir. 1st half 20 
 
 700 Ralph the Heir. 2d half 20 
 
 775 The Three Clerks 20 
 
 Margaret Veley's Works. 
 
 298 Mitchelhurst Place 10 
 
 586 " For Percival " 20 
 
 Jules Verne's Works. 
 
 87 Dick Sand; or, A Captain at 
 
 Fifteen 20 
 
 100 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas 20 
 368 The Southern Star ; or,the Dia- 
 mond Land 20 
 
 395 The Archipelago on Fire 10 
 
 578 Math i as Saudorf. Illustrated. 
 
 Part 1 10 
 
 578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 
 
 Part II 10 
 
 578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 
 
 PartHI 10 
 
 659 The Waif of the " Cynthia " . . 20 
 751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
 gators. 1st half 20 
 
 751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
 gators. 2d half 20 
 
 833 Ticket No. " 9672." 1st half. . . 10 
 833 Ticket No. " 9672." 2d half .. . 10 
 970 Robur the Conqueror; or. A 
 Trip Round the World in a 
 
 Flying Machine 20 
 
 1011 Texar's Vengeance ; or, North 
 
 Versus South. Part 1 20 
 
 1011 Texar's Vengeance ; or. North 
 
 Versus South. Part II 20 
 
 1020 Michael Strogoff ; or, The 
 
 Courier of the Czar 20 
 
 1050 The Tour of the World in 80 
 Days 20 
 
 Jj. B. Walford's W r orks. 
 
 241 The Baby's Grandmother 10 
 
 2.->il Mr. Smith : A Part of His Life 20 
 
 258 Cousins 20 
 
 658 The History of a Week 10 
 
 F. Warden's Works. 
 
 192 At the World's Mercy 10 
 
 248 The House on the Marsh 10 
 
 286 Deldee ; or. The Iron Hand. . . 20 
 
 482 A Vagrant Wife 20 
 
 556 A Prince of Darkness 20 
 
 820 Doris's Fortune 20 
 
 1037 Scheherazade : A London 
 Night's Entertainment 20 
 
 1087 A Woman's Face; or, A Lake- 
 land Mystery .- 20 
 
 William Ware's Works. 
 
 709 Zenobia ; or. The Fall of Pal- 
 myra. 1st half 20 
 
 709 Zenobia; or, The Fall of Pal- 
 myra. 2d half 20 
 
 760 Aurelian ; or, Rome in the Third 
 Century aft
 
 12 
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 Works by the Author of" Wedded 
 Haii ds.'' 
 
 688 Wedded Hands 80 
 
 968 Blossom and Fruit ; or, Mad- 
 ame 's Ward 20 
 
 E. Werner's Works. 
 
 327 Raymond's Atonement 20 
 
 510 At a High Price 20 
 
 1067 Saint Michael. 1st half 20 
 
 1067 Saint Michael. 2d half 20 
 
 1089 Home Sounds 20 
 
 fi.-3. Whyte-Melville's Works. 
 
 409 Roy's Wife 20 
 
 451 Market Harborough, and Inside 
 the Bar 20 
 
 John Strange Winter's Works. 
 
 492 Booties' Baby ; or, Mignon. Il- 
 lustrated 10 
 
 600 Houp-La. Illustrated 10 
 
 638 In Quarters with the 25th (The 
 
 Black Horse) Dragoons 10 
 
 688 A Man of Honor. Illustrated. 10 
 746 Cavalry Life : or, Sketches and 
 
 Stories in Barracks and Out. 20 
 813 Army Society. Life in a Gar- 
 rison Town 10 
 
 818 Pluck 10 
 
 87(i Mignon's Secret 10 
 
 966 A Siege Baby and Childhood's 
 
 Memories 20 
 
 971 Garrison Gossip: Gathered in 
 
 Blankhampton 20 
 
 1032 Mignon 's Husband 20 
 
 1039 Driver Dallas 10 
 
 1079 Beautiful Jim: of the Blank- 
 shire Regiment SO 
 
 Mrs. Henry Wood's Works. 
 
 8 East Lynne. 1st half 20 
 
 8 East Lynne. 2d half 20 
 
 255 TheMystery 20 
 
 277 The Surgeon's Daughters 10 
 
 508 The Unholy Wish 10 
 
 513 Helen Whitney's Wedding, and 
 
 Other Tales 10 
 
 514 The Mystery of Jessy Page, 
 
 and Other Tales 10 
 
 610 The Story of Dorothy Grape, 
 
 and Other Tales 10 
 
 1001 Lady Adelaide's Oath; or, The 
 
 Castle's Heir 20 
 
 1041 The Heir to Ashley, and The 
 
 Red-Court Farm 20 
 
 1027 A Life's Secret 20 
 
 1042 Lady Grace 20 
 
 Charlotte M. Yonge's Works. 
 
 247 The Armourer's Prentices 10 
 
 275 The Three Brides 10 
 
 535 Henrietta's Wish ; or. Domi- 
 neering 10 
 
 563 The Two Sides of the Shield.. . 20 
 
 640 Nuttie's Father 20 
 
 665 The Dove in the Eagle's Nest. 20 
 
 666 My Young Alcides : A Faded 
 
 Photograph 20 
 
 739 The Caged Lion 20 
 
 742 Love and Life 20 
 
 783 Chantry House 20 
 
 790 The Chaplet of Pearls ; or, The 
 
 White and Black Ribaumont. 
 
 1st half 30 
 
 790 The Chaplet of Pearls ; or, The 
 
 White and Black Ribaumon.t. 
 
 2d half 20 
 
 800 Hopes and Fears; or, Scenes 
 
 from the Life of a Spinster. 
 
 1st half 20 
 
 800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 
 
 from the Life of a Spinster. 
 
 2dhalf 20 
 
 887 A Modern Telemachus 20 
 
 1024 Under the Storm; or, Stead- 
 fast's Charge 20 
 
 Miscellaneous. 
 
 53 The Story of Ida. Francesca. . 10 
 61 Charlotte Temple. Mrs. Row- 
 son 10 
 
 99 Barbara's History. Amelia B. 
 
 Edwards 20 
 
 103 Rose Fleming. Dora Russell.. 10 
 105 A Noble Wife. John Saunders 20 
 
 111 The Little School-master Mark. 
 
 J. H. Shorthouse 10 
 
 112 The Waters of Marah. John 
 
 Hill 20 
 
 113 Mrs. Carr's Companion. M. G. 
 
 Wightwick 10 
 
 114 Some of Our Girls. Mrs. C. J. 
 
 Eiloart 20 
 
 115 Diamond Cut Diamond. T. 
 
 Adolphus Trollope 10 
 
 120 Tom Brown's School Days at 
 
 Rugby. Thomas Hughes 20 
 
 127 Adrian Bright. Mrs. Caddy .... 20 
 149 The Captain's Daughter. From 
 
 the Russian of Pushkin 10 
 
 151 The Ducie Diamonds. C. Blath- 
 
 erwick 10 
 
 156 "For a Dream's Sake." Mrs. 
 
 Herbert Martin 20 
 
 158 The Starling. Norman Mac- 
 
 leod, D.D 10 
 
 160 Her Gentle Deeds. Sarah Ty tier 10 
 
 161 The Lady of Lyon. Founded 
 
 on the Play of that title by 
 
 Lord Ly tton 10 
 
 163 Winifred Power. Joyce Dar- 
 
 rell 20 
 
 170 Great Treason, A. By Mary 
 
 Hoppus. 1st half 20 
 
 170 Great Treason, A. By Mary 
 
 Hoppus. 2d half 20 
 
 174 Under a Ban. Mrs. Lodge 20 
 
 176 An April Day. Philippa Prit- 
 
 tie Jephson 10 
 
 178 More Leaves from the Journal 
 
 of a Life in the Highlands. 
 
 Queen Victoria 10 
 
 182 The Millionaire 20 
 
 185 Dita. Lady Margaret Majendie 10
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 13 
 
 187 The Midnight Sun. Fredrika 
 
 Brerner 10 
 
 198 A Husband's Story 10 
 
 203 John Bull and His Island. Max 
 
 O'Rell 10 
 
 218 Agnes Sorel. G. P. R. James. . 20 
 
 219 Lady Clare : or, The Master of 
 
 the Forges. Georges Ohnet 10 
 242 The Two Orphans. D'Ennery. 10 
 253 The Amazon. (Jarl Vosmaer . . 10 
 266 The Water-Babies. Rev. Chas. 
 
 Kingsley 10 
 
 274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 
 Princess of Great Britain and 
 Ireland. Biographical Sketch 
 
 and Letters 10 
 
 279 Little Goldie : A Story of Wom- 
 an's Love. Mrs. Surnner Hay- 
 den 20 
 
 285 The Gambler's Wife 20 
 
 289 John Bull's Neighbor in Her 
 True Light. A " Brutal Sax- 
 on " 10 
 
 311 Two Years Before the Mast. R. 
 
 H. Dana, Jr 20 
 
 329 The Polish Jew. (Translated 
 
 from the French by Caroline 
 A. Merighi.) Erckmann-Chat- 
 rian 10 
 
 330 May Blossom ; or, Between Two 
 
 Loves. Margaret Lee 20 
 
 334 A Marriage of Convenience. 
 
 Harriett Jay 10 
 
 335 The White Witch 20 
 
 340 Under Which King? Compton 
 
 Reade 20 
 
 341 Madolin Rivers ; or. The Little 
 
 Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 
 
 Laura Jean Libbey 20 
 
 347 As Avon Flows. Henry Scott 
 
 Vince 20 
 
 350 Diana of the Crossways. George 
 
 Meredith 10 
 
 &52 At Any Cost. Edward Garrett. 10 
 
 354 The Lottery of Life. A Story 
 
 of New York Twenty Years 
 Ago. John Brougham 20 
 
 355 The Princess Dagomar of Po- 
 
 land. Heinrich Felbermann. 10 
 
 356 A Good Hater. Frederick Boyle 20 
 305 George Ctiristy ; or, The Fort- 
 unes of a Minstrel. Tony 
 Pastor 20 
 
 366 The Mysterious Hunter; or, 
 
 The Man of Death. Capt. L. 
 
 C. Carleton 20 
 
 369 Miss Bretherton. Mrs. Hum- 
 
 phrv Ward 10 
 
 374 The Dead Man's Secret. Dr. 
 
 Jupiter Paeon '20 
 
 381 The Red Cardinal. Frances 
 
 Elliot 10 
 
 382 Three Sisters. Elsa D'Esterre- 
 
 Keeling 10 
 
 388 Introduced to Society. Hamil- 
 ton Aide : 10 
 
 .387 The Secret of the Cliffs. Char- 
 lotte French x!0 
 
 403 An English Squire. C. R. Cole- 
 ridge , . . . . 20 
 
 406 The Merchant's Clerk. Samuel 
 
 Warren 10 
 
 407 Tylney Hall. Thomas Hood. . . 20 
 426 Venus's Doves. Ida Ashworth 
 
 Taylor 20 
 
 430 A Bitter Reckoning. Author 
 
 of "By Crooked Paths".... 10 
 
 435 Kly tia : A Story of Heidelberg 
 
 Castle. George Taylor 20 
 
 436 Stella. Fanny Lewald 20 
 
 441 A Sea Change. Flora L. Shaw. 20 
 
 442 Ranthorpe. George Henry 
 
 Lewes 20 
 
 443 The Bachelor of the Albany... 10 
 
 457 The Russians at the Gates of 
 
 Herat. Clmrles Marvin 10 
 
 458 A \Veek of Passion; or. The 
 
 Dilemma of Mr. George Bar- 
 ton the Younger. Edward 
 Jenkins 20 
 
 468 The Fortunes, Good and Bad, 
 of a Sewing-Girl. Charlotte 
 M. Stanley 10 
 
 483 Betwixt My Love and Me. By 
 
 author of " A Golden Bar "... 10 
 
 485 Tinted Vapours. J. Maclaren 
 
 Cobban 10 
 
 491 Society in London. A Foreign 
 
 Resident 10 
 
 493 Colonel Enderby's Wife. Lucas 
 
 Malet 20 
 
 501 Mr. Butler's Ward. F. Mabel 
 
 Robinson 20 
 
 504 Curly : An Actor's Story. John 
 
 Coleman 10 
 
 505 The Society of London. Count 
 
 Paul Vasili 10 
 
 510 A Mad Love. Author of " Lover 
 
 and Lord " 10 
 
 512 The Waters of Hercules 20 
 
 518 The Hidden Sin 20 
 
 519 James Gordon's Wife 20 
 
 520 Madame De Presnel. E. Fran- 
 
 ces Poyuter 20 
 
 532 Arden Court. Barbara Graham 'M 
 583 Hazel Kirke. Marie Walsh. . . . 20 
 53(3 Dissolving Views. Mrs. Andrew 
 
 Lang 10 
 
 545 Vida's Story. By the author of 
 
 "Guilty Without Crime".. . 10 
 
 546 Mrs. Keith's Crime. A Novel.. 10 
 571 Paul Crew's Story. Alice Co- 
 rny ns Carr 10 
 
 575 The Finger of Fate. Captain 
 
 Mayne Reid 20 
 
 581 The Betrothed. (I Promessi 
 
 Sposi.) Allessandro Manzoni 20 
 
 582 Lucia, Hugh and Another. Mrs. 
 
 J. H. Needell 20 
 
 583 Victory Deane. Cecil Griffith.. 20 
 
 54 Mixed Motives 10 
 
 599 Lancelot Ward, M.P. George 
 
 Temple 10 
 
 612 My Wife's Niece. By the author 
 
 of " Dr. Edith Komuey " 20 
 
 624. Primus in Iiulis. M. J. Colqu- 
 
 houn 10
 
 14 
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 634 The Unforeseen. Alice O'Han- 
 lon 20 
 
 C41 The Rabbi's Spell. Stuart C. 
 
 Cumberland 10 
 
 643 The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey 
 Crayon, Geiit. Washington 
 Irving 20 
 
 654 " Us." An Old-fashioned Story. 
 
 Mrs. Molesworth 10 
 
 662 The Mystery of Allan Grale. 
 
 Isabella Fyvie Mayo 20 
 
 668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 
 
 Romance 20 
 
 669 The Philosophy of Whist. 
 
 William Pole 20 
 
 675 Mrs. Dymond. Miss Thackeray 20 
 681 A Singer's Story. May Laffan. 10 
 
 683 The Bachelor Vicar of New- 
 
 forth. Mrs. J. Harcourt-Roe . 20 
 
 684 Last Days at Apswich 10 
 
 692 The Mikado, and Other Comic 
 
 Operas. Written by W. S. 
 Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 
 Sullivan 20 
 
 705 The Woman I Loved, and the 
 
 Woman Who Loved Me. Isa 
 Blagdeu 10 
 
 706 A Crimson Stain. Annie Brad- 
 
 shaw 10 
 
 712 For Maimie's Sake. Grant 
 
 Allen 20 
 
 718 Unfairly Won. Mrs. Power 
 
 O'Donoghue 20 
 
 719 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. 
 
 Lord Byron 10 
 
 723 Mauleverer's Millions. T. We- 
 
 myss Reid 20 
 
 725 My Ten Years' Imprisonment. 
 
 Silvio Pellico 10 
 
 730 The Autobiography of Benja- 
 min Franklin 10 
 
 735 Until the Day Breaks. Emily 
 
 Spender 20 
 
 738 In the Golden Days. Edna 
 
 Lyall '. 20 
 
 748 Hurrish : A Study. By the 
 
 Hon. Emily Lawless 20 
 
 750 An Old Story of My Farming 
 
 Days. Fritz Renter. 1st half 20 
 750 An Old Story of My Farming 
 
 Days. Fritz Renter. 3d half 20 
 752 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 
 
 Juliana Horatia Ewing 10 
 
 754 How to be Happy Though Mar- 
 
 ried. By a Graduate in the 
 University of Matrimony 20 
 
 755 Margery Daw 20 
 
 756 The Strange Adventures of Cap- 
 
 tain Dangerous. A Narrative 
 in Plain English. Attempted 
 by George Augustus Sala 20 
 
 757 Love's Martyr. Laurence Alma 
 
 Tadema 10 
 
 759 In Shallow Waters. Annie Ar- 
 
 mitr 20 
 
 766 No. XIII; or. The Story of the 
 
 Lost Vestal. Emma Marshall 10 
 770 The Castle of Otranto. Hor- 
 ace Walpole 10 
 
 773 The Mark of Cain. Andrew 
 
 Lang 10 
 
 774 The Life and Travels of Mungo 
 
 Park 10 
 
 776 Pere Goriot. Honors De Balzac 20 
 
 777 The Voyages and Travels of 
 
 of Sir John Maundeville, Kt. . 10 
 
 778 Society's Verdict. By the au- 
 
 thor of " My Marriage " 20 
 
 786 Ethel Mildmay's Follies. By 
 author of "Petite's Romance" 20 
 
 793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 
 Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
 Beaconsfield. 1st half 20 
 
 793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 
 Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
 Beaconsfield. 2d half 20 
 
 801 She Stoops to Conquer, and 
 The Good-Natured Man. Oli- 
 ver Goldsmith 10 
 
 803 Major Frank. A. L. G. Bos- 
 boom -Toussaint 20 
 
 807 If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 
 
 809 Witness My Hand. By author 
 of " Lady Gwendolen's Tryst " 10 
 
 810 The Secret of Her Life. Ed- 
 
 ward Jenkins 20 
 
 816 Rogues and Vagabonds. By 
 George R. Sims, author of 
 
 " 'Ostler Joe " 20 
 
 822 A Passion Flower. A Novel. . . 20 
 852 Under Five Lakes. M. Quad. 20 
 879 The Touchstone of Peril. A 
 Novel of Anglo-Indian Life, 
 With Scenes During the Mu- 
 tiny. R. E. Forrest 20 
 
 885 Les Miserables. Victor Hugo. 
 Parti 20 
 
 885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 
 Part II 20 
 
 885 Les Miserables. Victor Hugo. 
 Part III 20 
 
 908 A Willful Young Woman 20 
 
 913 The Silent Shore. John 
 Bloundelle-Burton , . . . . 20 
 
 915 That Other Person. Mrs Al- 
 fred Hunt. 1st half 20 
 
 915 That Other Person. Mrs. Al- 
 fred Hunt. 2d half 20 
 
 917 The Case of Reuben Malachi. 
 
 H. Sutherland Edwards 10 
 
 919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years Af- 
 
 ter, etc. By Alfred, Lord Ten- 
 nyson, P.L., D.CL 10 
 
 920 A Child of the Revolution. By 
 
 the author of " Mademoiselle 
 Mori " 20 
 
 921 The Late Miss Hollingford. 
 
 Rosa Mulholland 10 
 
 933 A Hidden Terror. Mary Albert 20 
 
 937 Cashel Byron's Profession. By 
 
 George Bernard Shaw 20 
 
 938 Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell... 20 
 954 A Girl's Heart. By the author 
 
 of " Nobody's Darling " 20 
 
 956 Her Johnnie. By Violet Whyte 20 
 964 A Struggle for the Right; or, 
 
 Tracking the Truth 20
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY POCKET EDITION. 
 
 15 
 
 965 Periwinkle. By Arnold Gray. 20 
 
 966 He, by the author of King 
 
 Solomon's Wives"; and A 
 Siege Baby and Childhood's 
 Memories, by J. S. Winter. . . 20 
 
 970 King Solomon's Wives; or. The 
 Phantom Mines. By Hyder 
 Bagged. (Illustrated) 20 
 
 984 Her Own Sister. By E. S. Will- 
 iamson 20 
 
 986 The Great Hesper. By Frank 
 Barrett 20 
 
 992 Marrying and Giving in Mar- 
 riage. By Mrs. Molesworth. 20 
 
 994 A Penniless Orphan. By W. 
 
 Heimburg 20 
 
 1028 A Wasted Love. A Novel 20 
 
 1030 The Mistress of Ibichstein. By 
 
 Fr. Henkel... 20 
 
 1034 The Silence of Dean Maitland. 
 
 By Maxwell Gray 20 
 
 1043 Faust. By Goethe 20 
 
 1059 Confessions of an English 
 
 Opium-Eater. By Thomas 
 
 De Quincey 20 
 
 1061 A Queer Race. By William 
 
 Westall 20 
 
 1068 Vendetta ! or, The Story of One 
 
 Forgotten. By Marie Corelli. 20 
 1072 Only a Coral Girl. By Gertrude 
 
 Forde 20 
 
 1075 The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. 
 
 By Fergus W. Hume 20 
 
 1081 Too Curious. By Edward J. 
 
 Goodman 20 
 
 1086 Nora. By Carl Detlef 20 
 
 1092 A Glorious Gallop. By Mrs. 
 
 Edward Kennard 20 
 
 Persons who wish to purchase the foregoing works in a complete 
 and unabridged form are cautioned to order and see that they get 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY, Pocket Edition, as works published in 
 other libraries are frequently abridged and incomplete. Every 
 number of THE SEASIDE LIBRARY is 
 
 AMAYS UNCHANGED AND UNABRIDGED. 
 
 Newsdealers wishing catalogues of THE SEASIDE LIBRARY, Pocket Edition, 
 bearing their imprint, will be supplied on sending their names, addresses, 
 and number required. 
 
 The works in THE SEASIDE LIBRARY, Pocket Edition, are printed from 
 larger type and on better paper than any other series published. 
 
 The foregoing works are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to 
 any address, postage free, on receipt of price, by the publisher. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, MUNKO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street. N. Y. 
 
 [WJien ordering by mail please order by numbers.] 
 
 The New York Fashion Bazar Book of the Toilet. 
 
 PRICE 25 CENTS. 
 
 This is a little book which we can recommend to every lady for the Preserva- 
 tion and Increase of Health and Beauty. It contains full directions for all the 
 arts and mysteries of personal decoration, and for increasing the natural 
 graces of form and expression. All the little affections of the skin, hair, eyes 
 and body, that detract from appearance and happiness, are made the sub- 
 jects of precise and excellent recipes. Ladies are instructed how to reduce 
 their weight without injury to health and without producing pallor and weak- 
 ness. Nothing necessary to a complete toilet book of recipes and valuable 
 advice and information has been overlooked in the compilation of this volume. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail to any address, postage pre- 
 paid, on receipt of price, 25 cents, by the publisher. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, MUNRO'S PL-BUSHING HOUSE, 
 (P. O, Box 3731.) 17 to 27 Vandewater Street. New York.
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.-Pocket Edition. 
 
 Always I'ncliiiii^ed ;iiiI l*n:ilri<l<-etl. 
 
 WITH HANDSOME LITHOGRAPHED PAPER COVER. 
 
 LATEST ISSUES: 
 
 NO. PKICK. 
 
 669 Pole on Whist 20 
 
 432 THE WITCH'S HEAD. By 
 
 H. Rider Haggard 20 
 
 1057 A Life Interest. By Mrs. Alex- 
 
 ander 20 
 
 1058 Masaniello ; or. The Fisherman 
 
 of Naples. Alexander Dumas 20 
 
 1059 Confessions of an English Opi- 
 
 um-Eater, and The English 
 Mail-Coach. By Thomas De 
 
 Quincey 20 
 
 2060 The Lady of the Lake. By Sir 
 
 Walter Scott, Bart 20 
 
 1061 A Queer Race : The Story of a 
 
 Strange People. By William 
 West.-ill 20 
 
 1062 The Deerslayer; or, The First 
 
 War-Path. By J. Fenimore 
 Cooper. First half 20 
 
 1062 The Deerslayer; or, The First 
 
 War-Path. " By J. Feuimore 
 Cooper. Second half 20 
 
 1063 Kenilworth. By Sir Walter 
 
 Scott, Bart. First half 20 
 
 1063 Kenilworth. By Sir Walter 
 
 Scott, Bart. Second half .... 20 
 
 1064 Only the Governess. By Rosa 
 
 Nouchette Carey 20 
 
 1065 Herr Paulus: His Rise, His 
 
 Greatness, and His Fall. By 
 Walter Besant 20 
 
 1066 My Husband and I. By Count 
 
 Lyof Tolstoi 10 
 
 1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 
 
 First half 20 
 
 1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 
 
 Second half 20 
 
 1068 Vendetta! or, The Story of One 
 
 Forgotten. By Marie Corelli. 20 
 
 1069 Polikouchka. By Count Lyof 
 
 Tolstoi 10 
 
 1070 A Life's Mistake. By Mrs. H. 
 
 Lovett Cameron 20 
 
 1071 The Death of Ivan Iliitch. By 
 
 Count Lyof Tolstoi 10 
 
 1072 Only a Coral Girl. By Gertrude 
 
 Forde 20 
 
 1073 Two Generations. By Count 
 
 Lyof Tolstoi 10 
 
 1074 Stormy Waters. By Robert 
 
 Buchanan 20 
 
 1075 The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. 
 
 By Fergus W. Hume 20 
 
 1076 The Mystery of an Omnibus. 
 
 By F. Du Boisgobey 20 
 
 1077 The Nun's Curse. "By Mrs. J. 
 
 H. Riddell 20 
 
 SO. PRICK. 
 
 1078 The Slaves of Paris. By Emile 
 
 Gaboriau. First half 20 
 
 1078 The Slaves of Paris. By Emile 
 
 Gaboriau Second half 20 
 
 1079 Beautiful Jim: of the Blank- 
 
 shire Regiment. By John 
 Strange Winter 20 
 
 1080 Bertha's Secret. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 1st half 20 
 
 1080 Bertha's Secret. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 2d half 20 
 
 1081 Too Curious. By Edward J. 
 
 Goodman 20 
 
 1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 1st half 20 
 
 1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 2d half 20 
 
 1083 The Little Old Man of the Bat- 
 
 iguolles. By Emile Gaboriau 10 
 
 1084 Chris. By W. E. Norris 20 
 
 1085 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 1st half 20 
 
 1085 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 2d half 20 
 
 1086 Nora. By Carl Detlef 20 
 
 1087 A Woman's Face; or, A Lake- 
 
 land Mystery. By F. Warden 20 
 
 1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 
 
 coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 1st 
 half 20 
 
 1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 
 
 coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 2d 
 half 20 
 
 1089 Home Sounds. By E. Werner 20 
 
 1090 The Cossacks. By Count Lyof 
 
 Tolstoi 20 
 
 1091 A Modern Cinderella. ByChar- 
 
 lotte M. Braeme 10 
 
 1092 A Glorious Gallop. By Mrs. 
 
 Edward Kennard 20 
 
 1093 In the Schillingscourt. By E. 
 
 Marlitt 20 
 
 1094 Homo Sum. By George Ebers . 20 
 
 1095 The Legacy of Cain. ByWilkie 
 
 Collins 20 
 
 1096 The Strange Adventures of a 
 
 House-Boat. William Black 20 
 
 1098 The Fatal Three. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon 20 
 
 1099 The Lasses of Leverhouse. By 
 
 Jessie Fothergill 20 
 
 1100 Mr. Meeson's Will. By H Rider 
 
 Haggard 20 
 
 1102 Young Mr. Barter's Repent- 
 
 ance. By David Christie Mur- 
 ray 10 
 
 1103 The Honorable Mrs. Vereker. 
 
 By " The Duchess " 20 
 
 The foregoing works, contained in THE SBASIDK LIBIIARY. Pocket Edition, 
 are for gale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address, postage free, on 
 receipt of price. Parties ordering by mail will please order by numbers. Ad- 
 dress 
 
 GEORGE IUUNKO, Dlnnro's Publishing House, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 
 
 The Honorable Mrs. Vereker.
 
 MUNRO'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Old Sleuth Library, 
 
 A Series of the Most Thrilling Detective Stories 
 Ever Published! 
 
 ISSUED QUARTERLY. 
 
 I Old Sleuth, the Detective lOc 
 
 X The King: of the Detectives lOc 
 
 8 Old Sleuth's Triumph (1st half) lOc 
 8 Old Sleuth's Triumph (2d half) lOc 
 4 Under a Million Disguises (1st 
 
 Half lOc 
 
 4 Under a Million Disguises (2d 
 
 half lOc 
 
 5 Night Scenes in New York lOo 
 
 6 Old Electricity, the Lightning 
 
 Detective lOc 
 
 7 The Shadow D-r.ecti ve (1st half) lOc 
 
 7 The Shadow Detective (2d half) lOc 
 
 8 Bed-Light Will, the Kiver De- 
 
 tective (1st half) lOc 
 
 8 Red-Light Will, the River De- 
 
 tective (3d half) ,. lOc 
 
 9 Iron Burgess, the Government 
 
 Detective (1st half) lOc 
 
 9 Iron Burgess! the Government 
 
 Detective ("3d half) lOc 
 
 10 The Brigands of New York (1st 
 
 half) lOc 
 
 10 The Brigands of New York (2d 
 
 half) lOc 
 
 II Tracked by a Ventriloquist.... lOc 
 
 12 The Twin Shadowers lOc 
 
 13 The French Detective lOc 
 
 14 Billy Wayne, the St. Louis De- 
 
 tective lOc 
 
 15 The New York Detective lOc 
 
 16 O'Neil McDarragh, the Detect- 
 ' ive; or. The Strategy of a 
 
 Brave Man lOc 
 
 17 Old Sleuth in Harness Again. .. lOc 
 
 18 The Lady Detect! ve lOc 
 
 19 The Yankee Detective lOc 
 
 20 The Fastest Boy in New York . . lOc 
 81 Black Raven, the Georgia De- 
 tective lOc 
 
 83 Night-hawk, the Mounted De- 
 tective lOc 
 
 88 The Gypsy Detective lOc 
 
 1 The Mysteries and Miseries of 
 New York lOc 
 
 25 Old Terrihle lOc 
 
 26 The Smugglers of New York Bay lOc 
 87 Manfred, the Magic Trick De- 
 tective lOc 
 
 28 Mura, the Western Lady De- 
 
 tective lOc 
 
 29 Mons. Armand ; or, The French 
 
 Detective in New York lOc 
 
 30 Lady Kate, the Dashing Female 
 
 Detective (1st half) lOc 
 
 30 Lady Kate, the Dashing Female 
 
 Detective <2d half) lOc 
 
 31 Hainud, the Detective lOo 
 
 32 The Giant Detective in France 
 
 (1st half) lOo 
 
 32 The Giant Detective in France 
 
 (2d half) lOc 
 
 33 The American Detective to 
 
 Russia lOc 
 
 34 The Dutch Detective lOc 
 
 35 Old Puritan, the Old-Time Yan- 
 
 kee Detective (1st half) lOc 
 
 35 Old Puritan, the Old-Time Yan- 
 
 kee Detective (2dhfllf) lOc 
 
 36 Manfred's Quest; or, The Mys- 
 
 tery of a Trunk (1st half)... lOc 
 
 36 Manfred's Quest; or, The Mys- 
 
 tery of a Trunk (2d half) lOc 
 
 87 Tom Thumb; or, The Wonderful 
 
 Boy Detective (1st half) lOc 
 
 37 Tom Thumb; or, The Wonderful 
 
 Boy Detective (2d half) lOc 
 
 38 Old Ironsides Abroad (1st half). lOc 
 
 38 Old Ironsides Abroad (2d half). lOc 
 
 39 Little Black Tom; or. The Ad- 
 
 ventures of a Mischievous 
 Darky (1st half) lOc 
 
 39 Little Black Tom; or, The Ad- 
 
 ventures of a Mischievous 
 Darky <2d half) lOc 
 
 40 Old Ironsides Among the Cow- 
 
 boys (1st half) lOc 
 
 40 Old Ironsides Among the Cow- 
 
 boys (2d half). lOo 
 
 41 Black Tom in Search of a Fa- 
 
 ther; or, the Further Advent- 
 ures of a Mischievous Darky 
 
 (1st half) lOc 
 
 41 Black Tom in Search of a Fa- 
 ther ; or, the Further Advent- 
 ures of a Mischievous Darky 
 (2d half) ICa 
 
 The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any 
 ddress, postage prepaid, on receipt of the price, 10 cents each. Address 
 
 GEOltGE MUNEO, Mnnro's Publishing Honse^ 
 
 (P. O. Box 87M.) Jt to 37 Vande water Street, New York
 
 MTJWKO'S PUBLICATION'S. 
 
 The New York Fashion Bazar Book of Etiquette. 
 
 P1&ICI4 35 CE^iTS. 
 
 A Guide to Good Manners and the Ways to FashionaMe Society. 
 
 A COMPLETE HANDBOOK OF BEHAVIOR 
 
 CONTAINING- 
 
 All the Polite Observances of Modern Life, the Etiquette of Engagements and 
 
 Marriages; the Manners and Training ;of Children,; the Arts of COB- 
 
 versation and Polite Letter- writing ; Invitations to Dinners, 
 
 Evening Parties and Entertainments of all Descriptions; 
 
 Table Manners, Etiquette of "Visits and Public Places; 
 
 How to Serve Breakfasts, Luncheons, Dinners 
 
 and Teas ; How to Dress, Travel, Shop, and 
 
 Behave at Hotels and Watering-places. 
 
 This Book contains all that a lady and gentleman, requires for correct 
 behavior on all social occasions. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent to any address on receipt of 25 cents, 
 postage prepaid, by the publisher. Address 
 
 GEORGE MTJNRO, 
 
 MUNRO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. IT to '2r Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
 Now Ready Beautifully Bound in Cloth Price 50 Cents. 
 
 A NEW PEOPLE'S EDITION OF THAT MOST DELIGHTFUL OF 
 
 CHILDREN'S STORIES, 
 
 /LICE'S /OVERTURES \\ WONDERLAND. 
 
 By LEWIS CARROLL,, 
 
 Author of " Through the Looking-Glass." 
 With Forty-two Beautiful Illustrations by John Tenuiel. 
 
 The most delicious and taking nonsense for children ever written. A 
 book to be read by all mothers to their little ones. It makes them 
 dance with delight. Everybody enjoys the fun of this charming writer 
 for the nursery. 
 
 THIS NEW PEOPLE'S EDITION. BOUND IN CLOTH. PRICE 50 CENTS- 
 IS PRINTED IN LARGE. HANDSOME, READABLE TYPE, WITH 
 ALL THE ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE EX- 
 PENSIVE ENGLISH EDITION. 
 
 Sent by Mail on Receipt of 5O Cents. 
 
 Address GEORGE MUNRO, Munro's Publishing House, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.
 
 'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 The Philosophy of Whist. 
 
 AN ESSAY ON THE SCIENTIFIC AND INTELLECTUAL 
 ASPECTS OF THE MODERN GAME. 
 
 IN TWO PARTS.. 
 
 PART I. THE PHILOSOPHY OF WHIST PLAY. 
 
 PART II.-THE PHILOSOPHY OF WHIST PROBABILITIES 
 
 By WILLIAM POLE, 
 
 Mus. Doc. OXON. 
 FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETIES OF LONDON AND EDINBURGH; 
 
 ONE OF THE EXAMINERS IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON; 
 . KNIGHT OP THE JAPANESE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE RISING SUN. 
 
 Complete in Seaside Library (Pocket Edition), No. 669. 
 
 PRINTED IN LARGE, BOLD, HANDSOME TYPE. 
 
 1*ICICK 30 CEiVTS. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent to any address, postage prepaid, on 
 receipt of the price, 20 cents. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, MUNRO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
 Munro's Dialogues and Speakers. 
 
 PRICE 10 CENTS EACH. 
 
 These books embrace a series of Dialogues and Speeches, all new and 
 original, and arc just what is needed to give spice and merriment to Social 
 Parties, Home Entertainments. Debating Societies, School Recitations. Ama- 
 teur Theatricals, etc. They contain Irish, German, Negro, Yankee, and, in 
 fact, all kinds of Dialogues and Speeches. The following are the titles of the 
 books : 
 
 No. 1. The Funny Fellow's Dialogues. 
 
 No. . The Clemence and Donkey Dialogues. 
 
 No. 3. Mrs. Smith's Hoarders' Dialogues. 
 
 No. 4. Schoolboys' Comic Dialogues* 
 
 N. 1. Vot I Know 'Bout Gruel Societies Speaker. 
 
 No. J. The John B. Go-oft" Comic Speaker. 
 
 No. 3. My Boy Villielm's Speaker. 
 
 The above titles express, in a slight degree, the contents of the books, 
 which are conceded to be the best series of mirth-provoking Speeches and 
 Dialogues extant. Price 10 cents each. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, MUNKO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.
 
 VI 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 
 && M
 
 A 000610991 2
 
 / / / / / / J \ I .v^JI ** "~^JI 
 
 / ^/ /**** *~** ** "^ S -^^~**v I \ V 
 
 ^** ,^x * ' ' y ^ J J J J ^J .J , I _J 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 THE CELEBRATED 
 
 GRAND, SQUARE AND UPRIGHT PIANOS. 
 
 FIRST PRIZE 
 
 DIPLOMA. 
 
 Centennial Exnibi- 
 tion, 1878: Montreal. 
 1381 and mi. 
 
 The enviable po- 
 sition Sohmer & 
 Co. hold amonf? 
 American Piano 
 Manufacturers is 
 solely due to the 
 merits of their in- 
 struments. 
 
 They are used 
 in Conservato- 
 ries, Schools and 
 Seminaries, on ac- 
 count oi their su- 
 perior tone and 
 unequaled dura- 
 bility. 
 
 The SOHMER 
 Piano is a special 
 favorite with the 
 leading musician* 
 and critics. 
 
 ARE AT PRESENT THE MOST POPULAR 
 
 AND PREFERRED BY THE LEADING ARTISTS. 
 SOIIMER A CO.. Mnnufucinrer*, No. 149 to 135 E. 14ih Street, N. Y. 
 
 TllE KING OF STORY PAPERS. 
 
 THE 
 
 New York Fireside Companion. 
 
 A Paper for the Home Circle. 
 
 PURE, BRIGHT, AXD INTERESTING. 
 
 THE FIRESIDE COMPANION is the 
 most interesting weekly paper pub- 
 lished in the United States, embracing 
 in its contents the best Stories, the 
 best Sketches, the best Humorous Mat- 
 ter, Random Talks, and Answers to 
 Correspondents, etc. No expense is 
 spared to get the best matter. 
 
 TERMS: THE NEW YORK FIRESIDE 
 COMPANION will be sent for one year, 
 on receipt of S3: two copies for S5. 
 Getters-up of clubs can afterward add 
 single copies at $2.M> each. We \v:ll lie 
 responsible for remittances sent in 
 Registered Letters or by Post-office 
 Money Orders. Postage free. Speci- 
 men copies sent free. Address 
 
 .'EORGE MFKRO, Mnnro's I'nWi-liliiir Hou... 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewntrr St.. \.V. 
 
 ESTABLISHED I SO I . 
 
 BARRY'S 
 TRICOPHEROUS 
 
 The Oldest and Best Preparation 
 for the Hair in the World.