“Well then, she can be yours to-morrow,” Demetrius went on calmly, “if you listen to the advice of your older and wiser brother. It cannot be very hard upon you, for you must own that if I had not fought it out with Anubis--and the rascal bit all he could reach like a trapped fox--if I had not got him locked up and almost run my legs off in hunting down the worthy abbot, our father would never have enjoyed the promotion which he is at last to obtain. Who would ever have believed that I should get any satisfaction out of this ‘Crown of Martyrdom’? By the gods! It is by no means impossible, and I hope the manes of the deceased will forgive me for your sake. But it is getting late, so only one thing more: for my own share of the business all I claim is my right to tell your mother myself of all that has occurred; you, on your part, must go at once to Eusebius and beg him to receive Dada in his house. If he consents--and he certainly will--take him with you to our uncle Porphyrius and wait there till I come; then, if all goes well, I will take you and Dada to your mother--or, if not, we will go with Eusebius.” “Dada to my mother!” cried Marcus. “But what will she....” “She will receive her as a daughter,” interrupted his brother, “if you hold your tongue about the whole business till I give you leave to speak.--There, the tall gate-keeper is closing the episcopal palace, so nothing more can come out of there to-night. You are a lucky fellow--well good-bye till we meet again; I am in a hurry.” The farmer went off, leaving Marcus with a thousand questions still unasked. However, the young man did his bidding and went, hopeful though not altogether free from doubts, to find his old tutor and friend. CHAPTER XXVII.