“Poor fellow!” he said, compassionately.  “Aye, the children! they are so small, and the door into one’s heart is so narrow—­and they dance in at it a thousand times better and more easily than grown-up folks.  I, too, have lost dear children, and they were my own, too.  I can teach any one what is meant by sorrow—­but I know too now where comfort is to be found.”  With these words Mastor held the tray he was carrying on his hip with his right hand, while he put the left on the negro’s shoulder and whispered to him: 

“Have you ever heard of the Christians?”

Sebek nodded eagerly as if Mastor were speaking of a matter of which he had heard great things and expected much, and Mastor went on in a low voice “Come early to-morrow before sunrise to the pavement-workers in the ’court, and there you will hear of One who comforts the weary and heavy-laden.”

The Emperor’s servant once more took his tray in both hands and hurried away, but a faint gleam of hope had lighted up in the old slave’s eyes.  He expected no happiness, but perhaps there might be some way of bearing the sorrows of life more easily.

Mastor as soon he had given his tray to the kitchen slaves—­who were now busy again in the palace at Lochias—­returned to his lord and gave him the steward’s letter.  It was an ill-chosen hour for Keraunus, for the Emperor was in a gloomy mood.  He had sat up till morning, had rested scarcely three hours, and now, with knitted brows, was comparing the results of his night’s observation of the starry sky with certain astronomical tables which lay spread out before him.  Over this work he frequently shook his head which was covered with crisp waves of hair; nay—­he once flung the pencil, with which he was working his calculations, down on the table, leaned back in his seat and covered his eyes with both hands.  Then again he began to write fresh numbers, but his new results seemed to be no more satisfactory than the former one.

The steward’s letter had been for a long time lying before him when at last it again caught his attention as he put out his hand for another document.  Needing some change of ideas he tore it open, read it and flung it from him with annoyance.  At any other time he would have expressed some sympathy with the suffering girl, have laughed at the ridiculous man, and have thought out some trick to tease or to terrify; but just now the steward’s threats made him angry and increased his dislike for him.

Tired of the silence around him he called to Antinous, who sat gazing dreamily down on the harbor; the youth immediately approached his master.  Hadrian looked at him and said, shaking his head: 

“Why you too look as if some danger were threatening you.  Is the sky altogether overcast?”

“No my lord, it is blue over the sea, but towards the south the black clouds are gathering.”

“Towards the south?” said Hadrian thoughtfully.  “Any thing serious can hardly threaten us from that quarter.—­But it comes, it is near, it is upon us before we suspect it.”