The boy simply turned and pointed to the end of a narrow lane which debouched close to. Cestus, thereupon, looked [pg 187]more inquiringly about him, as if striving to recall some remembrance of the spot.
‘I seem to have a sort of recollection of this place—up there is it?’ The lad nodded.
‘Alive?’
The taciturn youth nodded once more, and Cestus walked on with his mind considerably relieved. Once in the little street his memory served him better. ‘Just the same,’ he said, striding into the shop. No one being there he proceeded into the house, where he was equally unsuccessful in discovering any sign of life. He then tried the workshop, and, at last, stood in the presence of those within, as we have described.
CHAPTER VIII.
The short sea-trip from Rome, and the few days’ subsequent sauntering excursion, from the opposite side of the bay, had served to restore the face and frame of Cestus to a nearer approach to their native fulness of outline. Nevertheless, his broad physiognomy was yet pinched and shrunken, and his garments of rough woollen material hung sharply and loosely about his diminished bulk. The artificial colouring of his skin was yet continued, for the nature of the Suburan was cunning and suspicious, and did not deem the distance from Rome a sufficient reason to discard even this disguise.
On perceiving the occupants of the workshop he stopped short on the threshold for a moment, and surveyed them with as much surprise as they regarded him. Masthlion raised his face from his hands, and, taking one step forward, gazed at the new-comer intently. Cestus fixed his small keen eyes on the lovely face and form of Neæra, who, instinctively, inclined toward her lover. Then he withdrew his glance, and, marching up to Masthlion, clapped the potter on the shoulder with all his old swagger and assurance. ‘How now, kinsman? How fare you after all these years? Do you not remember me?’ cried he.
Masthlion’s heavy brows were knitted: his eyes gazed, nay, almost glared intensely into his visitor’s face. It would be almost impossible to describe the mixture of feelings which agitated his whole frame. Wonder and relief were dominant, and anguish lay numb beneath. Suddenly his visage cleared, and he clutched the arm of Cestus convulsively, with such a grasp of iron that the Suburan winced.