and he touched her to support her, the suppressed wish revived, and once when her hair was blown quite close to his lips he did indeed kiss it—­but only as a friend or a brother might.  Still, she must have felt the breath from his lips, for she turned round hastily, and gave him back the reins; then, pressing her hand to her brow, she said in a quite altered voice—­not unmixed with a faint tone of regret: 

“This is not right—­please now to turn the horses round.”

Lysias, instead of obeying her, pulled at the reins to urge the horses to a swifter pace, and before he could find a suitable answer, she had glanced up at the sun, and pointing to the east she exclaimed: 

“How late it is already! what shall I say if I have been looked for, and they ask me where I have been so long?  Why don’t you turn round—­nor ask me anything about my parents?”

The last words broke from her with vehemence, and as Lysias did not immediately reply nor make any attempt to check the pace of the horses, she herself seized the reins exclaiming: 

“Will you turn round or no?”

“No!” said the Greek with decision.  “But—­”

“And this is what you intended!” shrieked the girl, beside herself.  “You meant to carry me off by stratagem—­but wait, only wait—­”

And before Lysias could prevent her she had turned round, and was preparing to spring from the chariot as it rushed onwards; but her companion was quicker than she; he clutched first at her robe and then her girdle, put his arm round her waist, and in spite of her resistance pulled her back into the chariot.

Trembling, stamping her little feet and with tears in her eyes, she strove to free her girdle from his grasp; he, now bringing his horses to a stand-still, said kindly but earnestly: 

“What I have done is the best that could happen to you, and I will even turn the horses back again if you command it, but not till you have heard me; for when I got you into the chariot by stratagem it was because I was afraid that you would refuse to accompany me, and yet I knew that every delay would expose you to the most hideous peril.  I did not indeed take a base advantage of your father’s name, for my friend Publius Scipio, who is very influential, intends to do everything in his power to procure his freedom and to reunite you to him.  But, Irene, that could never have happened if I had left you where you have hitherto lived.”

During this discourse the girl had looked at Lysias in bewilderment, and she interrupted him with the exclamation: 

“But I have never done any one an injury!  Who can gain any benefit by persecuting a poor creature like me: