But, to-day, as he flung himself on the divan his visions took a new direction.  He could not help thinking of the pale girl whom he had saved from the jaws of the blood-hound—­of the white cold hand which for an instant had clung to his neck—­of the cold words with which she had afterwards repelled him.

Antinous began to long violently to see Selene.  That same Antinous, to whom in all the cities he had visited with the Emperor, and in Rome particularly, the noble fair ones had sent branches of flowers and tender letters, and who nevertheless, since the day when he left his home, had never felt for any woman or girl half so tender a sentiment, as for the hunter the Emperor had given him, or for the big dog.  This girl stood before his memory like breathing marble.  Perchance the man might be doomed to death who should rest on her cold breast, but such a death must be full of ecstasy, and it seemed to him that it would be far more blissful to die with the blood frozen in his veins, than of the too rapid throbbing of his heart.

“Selene,” he murmured, now and again, with soft hesitation; a strange unrest foreign to his calm nature seemed to propagate itself through all his limbs, and he who commonly would be stretched on a couch for hours without stirring, lost in dreams, now sprang up and paced the room, sighing deeply, and with long strides.

It was a passionate longing for Selene that drove him up and down, and his wish to see her again crystallized into resolve, and prompted him to contrive the ways and means of meeting her once more before the Emperor’s return.

Simply to invade her father’s lodging without farther ceremony, seemed to him out of the question, and yet he was certain of finding her there, since her injured foot would of course keep her at home.  Should he once more go to the steward with a request for bread and salt?  But he dared not ask anything of Keraunus in Hadrian’s name after the scene which had so recently taken place.  Should he go there to carry her a new pitcher in the place of the broken one?  But that would only freshly enrage the arrogant official.

Should he—­should he—­should he not?  But no, it was quite impossible—­still, that no doubt—­that was the right idea.  In his medicine-chest there were a few extracts which had been given to him by the Emperor; he would offer her one of these to dilute with water and apply to her bruised foot.  And this act of sympathy could not displease even his master, who liked to prove his healing art on the sick or suffering.  He at once called Mastor, and desired him to take charge of the hound which had followed his steps as he paced the room, then he went into his sleeping-room, took out a phial of a most costly essence, which Hadrian had given him on his last birthday, and which had formerly belonged to Trajan’s wife, Kotina, and then proceeded to the steward’s rooms.  On the steps where he had found Selene, he found the black slave with some children.  The old man had sat down them and got no farther for fear of the Roman’s dog.  Antinous went up to him and begged him to guide him to his master’s quarters, and the negro immediately showed him the way, opened the door of the antechamber, and pointing to the living-room said: