“Aye, and thus shall it be!” cried Olympius, fired by this eager exposition of his own excitement, and he wrung the musician’s hand.  “We will restore life to the Greeks and teach them to scorn death as of yore.  Let the Christians, the Barbarians, make life miserable and seek joy in death, if they list!  But the girls have ceased singing.  There is still much to be done to-day, and first of all I must confute the objections of your recalcitrant pupil.”

“You will not find it an easy task,” said Karnis.  “Reason is a feeble weapon in contending with a woman.”

“Not always,” replied the philosopher.  “But you must know how to use it.  Leave me to deal with the child.  There are really no singing-women left here; we have tried three, but they were all vulgar and ill taught.  This girl, when she sings with Gorgo, has a voice that will go to the heart of the audience.  What we want is to fire the crowd with enthusiasm, and she will help us to do it.”

“Well, well.  But you, Olympius, you who are the very soul of the revulsion we hope for, you must not be present at the festival.  Indeed, sheltered as you are under Porphyrius’ roof, there is a price on your head, and this house swarms with slaves, who all know you; if one of them, tempted by filthy lucre . . .”

“They will not betray me,” smiled the philosopher.  “They know that their aged mistress, Damia, and I myself command the daemons of the upper and lower spheres, and that at a sign from her or from me they would instantly perish; and even if there were an Ephialtes among them, a spring through that loop-hole would save me.  Be easy, my friend.  Oracles and stars alike foretell me death from another cause than the treason of a slave.”

CHAPTER X.

Olympius followed Agne into the garden where he found her sitting by the marble margin of a small pool, giving her little brother pieces of bread to feed the swans with.  He greeted her kindly and, taking up the child, showed him a ball which rose and fell on the jet of water from the fountain.  Papias was not at all frightened by the big man with his white beard, for a bright and kindly gleam shone in his eyes, and his voice was soft and attractive as he asked him whether he had such another ball and could toss it as cleverly as the fountain did.

Papias said:  “No,” and Olympius, turning to Agne, went on: 

“You should get him a ball.  There is no better plaything, for play ought to consist in pleasant exertion which is in itself its object and gain.  Play is the toil of a little child; and a ball, which he can throw and run after or catch, trains his eye, gives exercise to his limbs and includes a double moral which men of every age and position should act upon:  To look down on the earth and keep his gaze on the heavens.”

Agne nodded agreement and thanks, while Olympius set the child down and bid him run away to the paddock where some tame gazelles were kept.  Then, going straight to the point, he said: