Manes silently tried to avoid his master’s eye.
Callippides now understood something of which hitherto he had not thought, and knew to whom he owed the frugal meals which had been set before him during the last few days.
Yet he said nothing. Callippides was a man of few words.
He stood still a moment gazing silently at the old slave, who scarcely knew whether he might venture to continue his work or not. Suddenly Callippides laid his hand upon his shoulder and said with a strange gentleness in his voice:
“Go to rest. Manes; you have worked enough to-day.”
The old man seized his master’s hand and kissed it. At that moment he would have died for him.
The next day Callippides, contrary to his usual custom, went out into the garden before noon. Some presentiment told him that this time it would not be in vain. He had remained there only a few minutes when, through the half open door of the next house, he fancied he heard a child’s voice utter Melitta’s name.
Almost at the same moment the young girl came out, accompanied by an old female slave. Taking from her hand a graceful jug, she began to water the rarer flowers which were planted nearest to the house. Then she searched for buds, removed the withered blossoms, and tied up the drooping branches; in short, she busied herself a long time among the flowers, and at every movement her slender figure displayed some fresh girlish charm.
To-day she wore on her dark locks a gold clasp which fastened a blue fillet above her brow, and her white garment was trimmed with a double border of the same color. It seemed to Callippides that the young girl looked a little graver, but even more beautiful than when he first saw her.
As she came to the clump of bushes nearest to the next garden she perceived Callippides. The slave, who was holding a red umbrella over her young mistress’ head, followed the direction of her glance, but had scarcely caught sight of the sycophant when she dropped the umbrella and seized the girl’s arm as though some danger threatened her.