She listened—all was still.
“He is asleep,” she said to Thrax, who had soothed his daughter’s sobs, and now took a seat by the brightly-lighted table.
“He has earned it!” said Glauce.
Euterpe repeated the knocking, and this time with better success. Some one could be heard moving below. In two minutes the stairs creaked, and a weather-tanned figure of middle height cautiously entered the room. Euterpe met him and respectfully introduced him to Quintus. “This, my lord, is my husband,” she said modestly. “He too had a share in the bold attempt in the park, for he has the greatest reverence for Eurymachus.”
“To be sure—I recognize you! It was you, who offered the fugitive your arm to help him up the narrow path to the top of the ridge.”
Diphilus gazed astonished into the young man’s face.
“It is true, my lord,” he said hesitatingly. “But how should you know that?”
“Oh! I was nigh at hand. If I had come forward, I could easily have stopped the way.”
Diphilus sank on to the seat by the side of Thrax with an expression of unconcealed astonishment, fixing his eyes on the young man’s face, as if to stamp the features of this mysterious ally indelibly on his memory.
Thrax Barbatus now solemnly extended his bony hand over the table, like a speaker beginning his discourse. Then he said in a low voice: