"Oh, yes, indeed," said the guide. "My brother, a priest, and the head of one of our great schools, was his tutor, and he never met such a clever head as Orion's, he tells me. He learnt everything without any trouble and at the same time worked as hard as a poor man's son. We may expect him to win fame and honor--so Marcus says--for his parents and for the city of Memphis: but for my part, I can see the shady side, and I tell you the women will turn his head and bring him to a bad end. He is handsome, taller even than the old man in his best days, and he knows how to make the most of himself when he meets a pretty face--and pretty faces are always to be met in his path . . ." "And the young rascal takes what he finds!" said the Moslem laughing. "If that is all you are alarmed at I am glad for the youth. He is young and such things are allowable." "Nay, Sir, even my brother--he lives now in Alexandria, and is blind and foolish enough still in all that concerns his former pupil--and even he thinks this is a dangerous rock ahead. If he does not change in this respect he will wander further and further from the law of the Lord, and imperil his soul, for dangers surround him on all sides like roaring lions. The noble gifts of a handsome and engaging person will lead him to his ruin; and though I do not desire it, I suspect. . . ." "You look on the dark side and judge hardly," replied the old man. "The young. . . ." "Even the young, or at least the Christian young, ought to control themselves, though I, if any one, am inclined to make the utmost allowance for the handsome lad--nay, and I may confess: when he smiles at me I feel at once as if I had met with some good-luck; and there are a thousand other men in Memphis who feel the same, and still more the women you may be sure--but many a one has shed bitter tears on his account for all that.--But, by all the saints!--Talk of the wolf and you see his tail! Look, there he is!--Halt! Stop a minute, you men; it is worth while, Sir, to tarry a moment." "Is that his fine quadriga in front of the high garden gate yonder?" "Those are the Pannonian horses he brought with him, as swift as lightning and as.... But look! Ah, now they have disappeared behind the hedge; but you, high up on your dromedary, must be able to see them. The little maid by his side is the widow Susannah's daughter. This garden and the beautiful mansion behind the trees belong to her." "A very handsome property!" said the Arab. "I should think so indeed!" replied the Memphite. "The garden goes down to the Nile, and then, what care is taken of it!" "Was it not here that Philommon the corn-merchant lived formerly?" asked the old man, as though some memories were coming back to him.