His ignorance of the actual position of affairs left him a prey to the most distracting surmises. It was in vain he argued and proved to himself continually, that his secret lay, for the present, safe with himself and the potter only; and that Afer could no more have any knowledge or suspicion of the girl’s identity than a bird of the air. This was assured, he said; and yet what was it that brought his quondam patron to the potter’s shop? Was it to buy? No; that was a mere pretence. What did he want with such wares? What he had bought he had thrown away. Even in his harassment the Suburan’s face twisted with a grin, as he recalled the scene in the shop, and the expression of the knight’s face when acquainted with the price of the vases. The conclusion, therefore, forced itself on the mind of Cestus, and would not be dislodged, that Neæra was the object of the ominous visit. And, again, how was it, and from whom had he learnt of the existence of the girl in such an out‐of‐the‐way corner of the town, where his foot was never likely to tread of its own accord? It was true that Masthlion had a certain reputation for his work, and that the beauty of Neæra being known, it might have reached the knight’s ears amidst other tattle. This might have prompted his curiosity; but the coincidence was too strong for the reasoner’s peace of mind, and no argument was potent to comfort him. His thoughts, restricted to such a narrow field of inquiry, writhed and twisted in torment. Then at length, exhausted and chagrined with the fruitlessness of his efforts, he gave way to a paroxysm of rage. He shook his clenched fists, and his mouth vomited the most frightful curses on the head of his treacherous patron and all appertaining to him, including the impenetrable island, whose sealed silence held him at bay. The first glimpse of his would‐be murderer had aroused and added fuel to his mingled fear and detestation. This, combined with the sense of his insecurity and comparative powerlessness in his present situation, put him almost beside himself for a few delirious moments. No one passed him at this point, or they might have been superstitiously affrighted at the fierce gestures and the shrill, hissing notes of this shadowy form in the dark road.