present appearance so menacing and absorbed, that Neæra, about to resume her occupation, was struck with surprise. Her eyes naturally followed in the direction of his concentrated gaze, but owing to her backward position inside the shop, nothing met her view. ‘What is it?’ she said, stepping to his side to look. Her voice recalled the Suburan to himself, and straightening himself up, he cast a parting glance at the new‐comers, now close at hand, and turned away into the house, saying hurriedly he had forgotten something. The strange behaviour of Cestus stuck in the mind of Neæra, and she stood in the doorway puzzling her brains for a reason. Suddenly she became aware that the two men had drawn within twenty or thirty yards, and were regarding her with a direct gaze. Recovering herself abruptly, she turned away inside, and remained with her back to the road, until they should pass on. But in this she was disappointed, for a foot sounded on the step, and a voice said, ‘You can wait, Erotion!’ In the meantime, Cestus left the shop, and rushed into the little room, previously described as a kind of state apartment, which lay between the shop on one side, and the kitchen on the other. Into the wall dividing this room from the shop was let a small square window, unglazed, which admitted air and light at second hand. It was rather high up, and a couple of small statuettes stood in the opening. Cestus bounded on to the couch which stood underneath, and, stepping unto the topmost pinnacle of its framework, he was enabled to bring his eyes sufficiently high to overlook what passed in the shop. He furthermore arranged the little statuettes closer together, in order to still more shield the small portion of himself from any possible chance of observation. All this was inspired by instinct, which never admitted of any doubt, and he had only just taken up his post, when Afer, and his Greek, Erotion, stopped before the door of the shop. ‘I knew it when I caught sight of them,’ muttered the Suburan, with burning eyes and tumultuous breathing. ‘What brings him here, of all places in the world? What is in his brain now? What does it mean? Does he know anything?’ He was quivering with intense excitement, and, but for the dark stain which he still used for his skin, his face would have been ashy white. A thousand fears and forebodings tore his mind, whilst nervous dread and hate shook him till his frame quivered like a leaf. With his faculties at their utmost stretch he watched and listened for what should follow. After a close scrutiny, as if to assure himself, Afer entered the shop, and Cestus observed, with satisfaction, that the lynx‐eyed Erotion remained in the roadway. The further the Greek was away the freer he breathed, for he knew his profound subtlety of old.