So saying, and showing his white teeth with a smile, he left the shop followed by Erotion, who, on his own account, turned as he passed through the door, and smirked behind him, leaving Neæra standing with the deepest indignation in her face. They had scarcely passed from view when Cestus hurriedly re‐entered the shop, and going to the door peered after them. ‘Did you see them—do you know them?’ exclaimed Neæra. ‘Yes, yes, I saw them come along—I have seen him somewhere before—I will try and think before I come back,’ answered Cestus hastily. ‘I will go through the fields, I think, for a stroll.’ He retreated through the house, and crossing the small patch of garden in the rear, emerged into a cart‐track. This ran more or less parallel with the street, and skirted the gardens and little fields belonging to the houses. Here and there was a path for convenience of communication between the main and back thoroughfares, and Cestus ran ahead until he reached such an one which commanded a ready view from end to end. At the bottom of this he waited a few moments, until he saw the forms of Afer and his slave cross the upper end, and then, being sure he was in their rear, he walked up into the street. He either forgot his altered appearance, or had such small faith in its ability to mislead those whom he was now dogging, that he followed with the extreme care of a hunter tracking a wild animal through its native woods. He kept them in view at the furthest possible distance; stopped when they stopped, and cowered behind walls or anything which came handiest, to avoid the slightest chance of being noticed. One of the first actions he observed was that of Erotion, who, in answer to something which his master said, threw away to one side an article he carried. Cestus instinctively guessed what it was, and following on, passed the fragments of the small, recently‐purchased pot lying at the foot of a wall. This act confirmed his suspicions, that his former patron’s object in visiting Masthlion’s shop was distinctly not that of buying of the wares it contained. The Suburan, in consequence, plunged still deeper into an agony of suspicion, and as often as he soothed himself with the fact that it was impossible that Neæra’s identity could be known, so often he plagued himself afresh with the question of its probability.