Marsyas flushed under the prince's praise, and Cypros, drawing closer, took his arm and pressed her cheek against it.
"Thrice welcome to my house," the alabarch said with emotion. "Blessed be thy coming and thy going; may safety be thy shadow!"
Marsyas, coloring more under the comment, thanked the alabarch and cast a beseeching look at the prince. The prince smiled.
"Let us supplement blessings with raiment and thanks with wine," he said to the alabarch. "This is an Essene to whom uncleanliness is as great a crime as a love affair."
"Thou recallest me to my duty," the alabarch returned, at once. "Stephanos,"—signing to a servitor,—"thou wilt take this young man to the room which hath been prepared for him and give him comfort. If he hath any hurts, the physician will wait on him. Remember, brother, I am at thy command."
With these words, he bowed to Marsyas, who inclined his head to the company and followed Stephanos.
But at the arch leading into the corridor, there was a low word at his hand. Lydia, with the rough mantle dropped from her, stood there in her rich white garments.
"I owe thee my life," she said, in a little more than a whisper. "Aye, even more—a greater debt which I can not make clear to thee now."
He looked down into her lifted eyes, pleading for pity and forgiveness.
"I made thee traffic with the truth," they said. "Thou who art an Essene and a holy man!"