Olinthus pressed his hand joyfully, and then descending to the river side, hailed one of the boats that plyed there constantly; they entered it; an awning overhead, while it sheltered them from the sun, screened also their persons from observation:  they rapidly skimmed the wave.  From one of the boats that passed them floated a soft music, and its prow was decorated with flowers—­it was gliding towards the sea.

‘So,’ said Olinthus, sadly, ’unconscious and mirthful in their delusions, sail the votaries of luxury into the great ocean of storm and shipwreck! we pass them, silent and unnoticed, to gain the land.’

Apaecides, lifting his eyes, caught through the aperture in the awning a glimpse of the face of one of the inmates of that gay bark—­it was the face of Ione.  The lovers were embarked on the excursion at which we have been made present.  The priest sighed, and once more sunk back upon his seat.  They reached the shore where, in the suburbs, an alley of small and mean houses stretched towards the bank; they dismissed the boat, landed, and Olinthus, preceding the priest, threaded the labyrinth of lanes, and arrived at last at the closed door of a habitation somewhat larger than its neighbors.  He knocked thrice—­the door was opened and closed again, as Apaecides followed his guide across the threshold.

They passed a deserted atrium, and gained an inner chamber of moderate size, which, when the door was closed, received its only light from a small window cut over the door itself.  But, halting at the threshold of this chamber, and knocking at the door, Olinthus said, ’Peace be with you!’ A voice from within returned, ‘Peace with whom?’ ‘The Faithful!’ answered Olinthus, and the door opened; twelve or fourteen persons were sitting in a semicircle, silent, and seemingly absorbed in thought, and opposite to a crucifix rudely carved in wood.

They lifted up their eyes when Olinthus entered, without speaking; the Nazarene himself, before he accosted them, knelt suddenly down, and by his moving lips, and his eyes fixed steadfastly on the crucifix, Apaecides saw that he prayed inly.  This rite performed, Olinthus turned to the congregation—­’Men and brethren,’ said he, ’start not to behold amongst you a priest of Isis; he hath sojourned with the blind, but the Spirit hath fallen on him—­he desires to see, to hear, and to understand.’

‘Let him,’ said one of the assembly; and Apaecides beheld in the speaker a man still younger than himself, of a countenance equally worn and pallid, of an eye which equally spoke of the restless and fiery operations of a working mind.

‘Let him,’ repeated a second voice, and he who thus spoke was in the prime of manhood; his bronzed skin and Asiatic features bespoke him a son of Syria—­he had been a robber in his youth.

‘Let him,’ said a third voice; and the priest, again turning to regard the speaker, saw an old man with a long grey beard, whom he recognized as a slave to the wealthy Diomed.