Irene shrank back and flattened herself against the pilaster which concealed her, for the shutter closed again with a slam, the recluse pulling it to with a rope attached to its outer edge, and he was hidden from the gaze of the strangers; but only for an instant, for the rusty hinges on which the shutter was hanging were not strong enough to bear such violent treatment, and slowly giving way it was about to fall.  The blustering hermit stretched out an arm to support it and save it; but it was heavy, and his efforts would not have succeeded had not the young man in Roman dress given his assistance and lifted up the shutter with his hand and shoulder, without any effort, as if it were made of willow laths instead of strong planks.

“A little higher still,” shouted the recluse to his assistant.  “Let us set the thing on its edge! so, push away, a little more.  There, I have propped up the wretched thing and there it may lie.  If the bats pay me a visit to-night I will think of you and give them your best wishes.”

“You may save yourself that trouble,” replied the young man with cool dignity.  “I will send you a carpenter who shall refix the shutter, and we offer you our apologies for having been the occasion of the mischief that has happened.”

The old man did not interrupt the speaker, but, when he had stared at him from head to foot, he said:  “You are strong and you speak fairly, and I might like you well enough if you were in other company.  I don’t want your carpenter; only send me down a hammer, a wedge, and a few strong nails.  Now, you can do nothing more for me, so pack off”

“We are going at once,” said the more handsomely dressed visitor in a thin and effeminate voice.  “What can a man do when the boys pelt him with dirt from a safe hiding-place, but take himself off”

“Be off, be off,” said the person thus described, with a laugh.  “As far off as Samothrace if you like, fat Eulaeus; you can scarcely have forgotten the way there since you advised the king to escape thither with all his treasure.  But if you cannot trust yourself to find it alone, I recommend you your interpreter and guide there to show you the road.”

The Eunuch Eulaeus, the favorite councillor of King Ptolemy—­called Philometor (the lover of his mother)—­turned pale at these words, cast a sinister glance at the old man and beckoned to the young Roman; he however was not inclined to follow, for the scolding old oddity had taken his fancy—­perhaps because he was conscious that the old man, who generally showed no reserve in his dislikes, had a liking for him.  Besides, he found nothing to object to in his opinion of his companions, so he turned to Eulaeus and said courteously: 

“Accept my best thanks for your company so far, and do not let me detain you any longer from your more important occupations on my account.”

Eulaeus bowed and replied, “I know what my duty is.  The king entrusted me with your safe conduct; permit me therefore to wait for you under the acacias yonder.”