But that--I will not, I cannot believe it.

It fairly stifles me!" "Have you received bad news from the fleet ?" questioned Dion, with sincere anxiety; but she only bent her head in assent, laying her fan of ostrich-plumes on her lips to enjoin silence, at the same time shivering so violently that he perceived it, even in the dusk.

It was evident that speech was difficult, as she added in a muffled tone: "It must be kept secret--Rhodian sailors--thank the gods, it is still very doubtful--it cannot, must not be true--and yet-the prattle of that zither-player, which has filled the multitude with joyous anticipation, is abominable--the great ones of the earth are often most sorely injured by those who owe them the most gratitude.

I know you can be silent, Dion.
You could as a boy, if anything was to be hidden from our parents.

Would you still be ready to plunge into the water for me, as in those days?
Scarcely.