Masthlion’s face was flushed with tumultuous speech. His trembling hand pulled his wife aside to give himself more room. Then he lifted the glass bowl as high as possible above his head, and threw it down on the floor, with all the force he could command. There followed no crash and flying of countless splinters, but only a dull thud, and the hardly tried glass rolled over lazily two or three times with a flattened side; otherwise it had suffered no damage. The potter drew himself up and looked round with pride and triumph in his eyes. Neæra clapped her hands and kissed him. Her face reflected his supreme joy and satisfaction. Tibia stood silently, with her hand still grasped in her husband’s, as it might be in the manner of those bygone days of trial he had told them of. She said nothing; but her eyes passed from the object on the floor to her husband’s face, and there remained. She was a silent woman, and spoke no word of congratulation; but the pride and devotion in her face were eloquent enough. Masthlion, looking down into it, read it there. Both females regarded the wonderful piece of glass with no small amount of curiosity; but it was little else than mere curiosity. As an extraordinary discovery it interested them but little; as the means of bearing rapture to the breast of the discoverer it was precious beyond compare. Their eyes indeed visited it, but straightway left it to dwell on the recovered radiance which beamed on the face of its maker. The attention of Cestus, on the other hand, was absorbed in exactly the reverse way. With great interest he stooped to pick up and examine the flattened glass vessel. He turned and twisted it about with the most minute scrutiny. Then, with his thick, powerful fingers, he tried to straighten out the dint. But in this he was unsuccessful, so he began to shake his head and hum disbelievingly through his pursed lips. ‘’Tis not clay,’ laughed Masthlion; ‘it needs a mallet and a tool or two. Come, I will show you!’ They followed him to his workshop, where he took a piece of wood rounded at one end like a pestle. With this and a mallet he pounded the injured side of the glass back into its original shape—the glass yielding to the heavy blows like a piece of plastic metal. ‘There!’ he cried, throwing down his tools and holding forth the restored glass in triumph, ‘it is neither pretty nor useful, I admit; but the principle is there, which is everything. One must first find the precious pebble before it can be carved and polished. So enough for the present. Haste, wife, and get us our supper—I must be at work again to make a more sightly cup, as quickly as I can.’ The women vanished. Their voices could be heard in animated chatter as they passed hither and thither in the gladdest preparation of a meal they had known for some time.