This letter—­which ended with greetings to Paula, for whose father he was making diligent search—­agitated Philippus greatly.  How could he leave Memphis at a time of such famine and sickness?—­And Dame Joanna and her daughter!

On the other hand he was much drawn to get away on Paula’s account—­away, far away; and then how gladly would he do his best to save that fine old man’s son.  In spite of all this he would have remained, but that his old friend, quite unexpectedly, took Haschim’s side of the question and implored him to make the journey.  He would make it his business and his pleasure to take charge of the women in Rufinus’ house; Philip’s assistant could fill his place at the bedside of many of the sick, and the rest could die without him.  Had not he himself said that there was no remedy for the disease?  Again, Philip had said not long since that there could be no peace for him within reach of Paula:  here was a favorable opportunity for escape without attracting remark, and at the same time for doing a work of the truest charity.

So Philippus had yielded, and had started on his journey with very mixed feelings.

Horapollo did not devote any particular attention to his personal comfort; but in one respect he took especial care of himself.  He had great difficulty in walking and, as he loved to breathe the fresh air at sundown, and sometimes to study the stars at a late hour, he kept an ass of the best and finest breed.  He did not hesitate to pay a high price for such a beast if it really answered his requirements; that is to say if it were strong, surefooted, gentle, and light-colored.  His father and grandfather, priests of Isis, had always ridden white asses, and so he would do the same.

During the last few sultry weeks he had rarely gone out of doors, and to-day he waited till the hour before sunset before starting to keep his promise.

Robed in snowy-white linen, with new sandals on his feet, freshly shaven, and protected from the sun’s rays by a crisply curled, flowing wig, after the manner of his fathers, as well as by an umbrella, he mounted his beautiful white ass in the conviction that he had done his best for his outer man, and set forth, followed by his black slave trotting on foot.

It was not yet dark when he stopped at the house of Rufinus.  His heart had not beat so high for many a day.

“I feel as if I had come courting,” said he, laughing at himself.  “Well, and I really am come to propose an alliance for the rest of my life!  Still, curiosity, one would think, might be shed with the hair and the teeth!” However, it still clung to him, and he could not deny to himself that he was very curious as to the person whom he hated, though he had never seen her, simply because she was the daughter of a patrician and a prefect, and had made his Philippus miserable.  As he was dismounting, a graceful young girl and an older woman, in very costly though simple dresses, came through the garden.  These must be the waterwagtail, and Orion’s Byzantine guest.—­How annoying!  So many women at once!