CHAPTER VI.
"Pardon me if I disturb you." With these words the anchorite's final speech was interrupted by Eulaeus, who had come in to the Pastophorium softly and unobserved, and who now bowed respectfully to Publius.
"May I be permitted to enquire on what compact one of the noblest of the sons of Rome is joining hands with this singular personage ?" "You are free to ask," replied Publius shortly and drily, "but every one is not disposed to answer, and on the present occasion I am not.

I will bid you farewell, Serapion, but not for long I believe." "Am I permitted to accompany you ?" asked Eulaeus.
"You have followed me without any permission on my part." "I did so by order of the king, and am only fulfilling his commands in offering you my escort now." "I shall go on, and I cannot prevent your following me." "But I beg of you," said Eulaeus, "to consider that it would ill-become me to walk behind you like a servant." "I respect the wishes of my host, the king, who commanded you to follow me," answered the Roman.

"At the door of the temple however you can get into your chariot, and I into mine; an old courtier must be ready to carry out the orders of his superior." "And does carry them out," answered Eulaeus with deference, but his eyes twinkled--as the forked tongue of a serpent is rapidly put out and still more rapidly withdrawn--with a flash first of threatening hatred, and then another of deep suspicion cast at the roll the Roman held in his hand.
Publius heeded not this glance, but walked quickly towards the acacia-grove; the recluse looked after the ill-matched pair, and as he watched the burly Eulaeus following the young man, he put both his hands on his hips, puffed out his fat cheeks, and burst into loud laughter as soon as the couple had vanished behind the acacias.
When once Serapion's midriff was fairly tickled it was hard to reduce it to calm again, and he was still laughing when Klea appeared in front of his cell some few minutes after the departure of the Roman.

He was about to receive his young friend with a cheerful greeting, but, glancing at her face, he cried anxiously; "You look as if you had met with a ghost; your lips are pale instead of red, and there are dark shades round your eyes.

What has happened to you, child?
Irene went with you to the procession, that I know.