She was delighted to think of what Herse’s face would be when, on her return home, she should discover that the prisoner could make her escape even without shoes.

“Let her have a good hunt for me!” she cried quite enchanted.  “Why should I always be supposed to be ready for folly and wickedness!  But one thing I warn you:  If I am not comfortable and happy with you, and if I do not like the parts you want me to fill, we part as quickly as we have come together.—­Why are you taking me through all these dirty alleys?  I want to ride through the main streets and see what is going on.”  But Medius would not agree to this, for in the great arteries of the town there were excitement and tumult, and they might think themselves fortunate if they reached his house unmolested.

He lived in a little square, between the Greek quarter and Rhacotis where the Egyptians lived, and his house, which was exactly opposite the church of St. Marcus, accommodated Medius himself, his wife, his widowed daughter and her five children, besides being crammed from top to bottom with all sorts of strange properties, standing or hanging in every available space.  Dada’s curiosity had no rest, and by the time she had spent a few hours in the house her host’s pretty little grandchildren were clinging to her with devoted affection.

Agne had not been so fortunate as to find a refuge so easily.  With no escort, unveiled, and left entirely to her own guidance, leading the little boy, she hurried forward, not knowing whither.  All she thought was to get away—­far away from these men who were trying to imperil her immortal soul.

She knew that Karnis had actually bought her, and that she was, therefore, his property and chattel.  Even Christian doctrine taught her that the slave must obey his master; but she could not feel like a slave, and if indeed she were one her owner might destroy and kill her body, but not her soul.  The law, however, was on the side of Karnis, and it allowed him to pursue her and cast her into prison.  This idea haunted her, and for fear of being caught she avoided all the chief thoroughfares and kept close to the houses as she stole through the side streets and alleys.  Once, in Antioch, she had seen a runaway slave, who, having succeeded in reaching a statue of the Emperor and laying his hand on it, was by that act safe from his pursuers.  There must surely be such a statue somewhere in Alexandria—­but where?  A woman, of whom she enquired, directed her down a wider street that would take her into the Canopic Way.  If she crossed that and went down the first turning to the left she would reach a large open square in the Bruchium, and there, in front of the Prefect’s residence and by the side of the Bishop’s house, stood the new statue of Theodosius.

This information, and the mention of the Bishop, gave a new course to her proceedings.  It was wrong to defy and desert her master, but to obey him would be deadly sin.  Which must she choose and which avoid?  Only one person could advise in such a case—­only one could relieve her mind of its difficulties and terrors:  The Shepherd of souls in the city—­the Bishop himself.  She too was a lamb of his flock; to him and to no one else could she turn.