“I speak only for the child’s—­for Mary’s sake.  By my father’s soul....”

But Philippus shook his head dismally, went up to his rival, and murmured dully: 

“For the sake of that child I am capable of doing or enduring a great deal.  She could not be better cared for than with Rufinus and Paula; but if I could suppose,” and he raised his voice, while his eyes took a sinister and threatening expression, “if I could suppose that her sacred and suffering innocence were merely an excuse. . . .”

“No, no,” said Orion urgently.  “Again, on my sacred word, I assure you that I have no aim in view but the child’s safety; and, as we have said so much, I will not stick at a word more or less!  “Rufinus’ house is open to you day and night, and I, if all turns out as I expect, shall ere long be far from hence—­from Memphis—­from Paula.  There is mischief brewing—­I dare say no more—­an act of treachery; and I will try to prevent it at the risk of my life.  You, every one, shall no longer have a right to think me capable of things which are as repulsive to my nature as to yours.  You and I, if I mistake not, strive for the same prize, and so far are rivals; but why should the child therefor suffer?  Forget it in her presence, and that forgetting will, as you well know, enhance your merit in her—­her eyes.”

“My merit?” retorted the other scornfully.  “Merit is not in the balance; nothing but the gifts of blind Fortune—­a nose, a chin, an eye, anything in short—­a crime as much as a deed of heroism—­that happens to make a deep impression on the wax of a girl’s soft heart.  But curse me,” and he shouted the words at Orion as if he were beside himself, “if I know how we came to talk of such things!  Has my folly gone running through the streets, bare-bosomed, to display itself to the world at large?  How do you know what my feelings are?  She, perhaps, has laughed with you at her ridiculous lover?—­Well, no matter.  You know already, or will know by to-morrow, which of us has won the cock-fight.  You have only to look at me!  What woman ever broke her heart for such a Thersites-face.  Good-luck to the winner, and the other one—­well, since it must be so, farewell till to-morrow.”

He hastily made his way towards the door; Orion, however, detained him, imploring him to set aside his ill-feeling—­at any rate for the present; assured him that Paula had not betrayed what his feelings were; that, on the contrary, he himself, seeing him with her so late on the previous night, had been consumed by jealousy, and entreated him to vent his wrath on him in abusive words, if that could ease his heart, only, by all that was good, not to withdraw his succor from that poor, innocent child.

The physician’s humane heart was not proof against his prayer; and when at length he prepared to depart, in the joyful and yet painful conviction that his happier rival had become more worthy of the prize, he had agreed that he would impress on Neforis, whose mind he suspected to be slightly affected, that the air of the governor’s residence did not suit Mary, and that she should place her in the care of a physician outside the town.