Pollux did not know what had come upon him; he stood like a bear that has been surrounded by hunters; doubtful but at bay.  Should he fling himself upon his pursuers and fell them to the earth? should he passively await impending fate?

He knew every stone in his master’s house; the anteroom in which he stood, and indeed the whole building was on the ground floor.  In the minute while the guards were approaching and his master was giving the order to the lictor, his eye fell on a window which looked out upon the street, and possessed only by the single thought of defending his liberty and returning quickly to Arsinoe he leaped out of the opening which promised safety and into the street below.

“Thief—­stop thief!” he heard as he flew on with long strides; and like the pelting of rain driven by all the four winds came from all sides the senseless, odious, horrible cry:  “Stop thief!—­stop thief!” it seemed to deprive him of his senses.

But the passionate cry of his heart:  “To Lochias, to Arsinoe! keep free, save your liberty if only to be of use at Lochias!” drowned the shouts of his pursuers and urged him through the streets that led to the old palace,

On he went faster and farther, each step a leap; the briny breeze from the sea already fanned his glowing cheeks and the narrow empty street yonder he well knew led to the quay by the King’s harbor, where he could hide from his pursuers among the tall piles of wood.  He was just turning the corner into the alley when an Egyptian ox-driver threw his goad between his legs; he stumbled, fell to the ground, and instantly felt that a dog which had rushed upon him was tearing the chiton he wore, while he was seized by a number of men.  An hour later and he found himself in prison, bitten, beaten, and bound among a crew of malefactors and real thieves.

Night had fallen.  His parents were waiting for him and he came not; and in Lochias which he had not been able to reach there were misery and trouble enough, and the only person in the world who could carry comfort to Arsinoe in her despair was absent and nowhere to be found.

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     Dried merry-thought bone of a fowl
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THE EMPEROR

By Georg Ebers

Volume 8.

CHAPTER X.

The story told by Mastor which had so greatly agitated Pollux and had prompted him to his mad flight was the history of events which had taken place in the steward’s rooms during the hours when the young artist was helping his parents to transfer their household belongings into his sister’s tiny dwelling.  Keraunus was certainly not one of the most cheerful of men, but on the morning when Sabina came to the palace and the gate-keeper was driven from his home, he had worn the aspect of a thoroughly-contented man.