"I do not go of mine own will, nor even thine," he answered. "I was summoned." "What! has Flora summoned thee?" she cried, gazing at him in unfeigned astonishment. "Fie on her boldness! Only the Floras of Rome do such a thing!" "A new evil in Rome?" he responded, smiling. "O lady, I can not go thither unless thou promise me protection!" She laughed and waved him a warning hand. "Behold how thou acceptest my counsel here in Alexandria! What obedience need I expect in Rome?" Without waiting for his answer, she turned him out of the open into the grove. No extensive vista greeted him. No lamps, only their lights were visible. No green-and-gold walled aisle led far in a straight line. The woodland screening of leaf and branch prevailed everywhere. The music, the shouts, the tumult seemed to be in another direction than the one toward which they were tending. Marsyas went uncertainly; he had been bidden to be in the forefront of Flora's van, and ahead of him was falling silence. The splendid creature at his side held her peace, and moved rapidly. Gradually, the people thinned out, and when Junia turned him into another aisle they were alone. She seemed to be conducting him away from the music and noise. Only for a moment, he hesitated at a loss, and then with an apologetic smile, he said to her: "We will go this way,"--and, turning at right angles, led back toward the tumult. "Marsyas," she said, with more impatience than reproach, "and thou art an Essene! How I reproach myself!" But he smiled uncomfortably, and kept on. The wail of instruments, wild and discordant, the blowing of horns, the pulsation of drums, seemed suddenly to unite as they approached. Above the clamor and squeal of cymbals and pipes, voices were lifted, loud and strained as if striving to be heard above the uproar. Some of them merely shouted, most of them were singing, not one but many songs; shrieks and laughter shrilled through it all, and once in a while the musical tone of a rich throat triumphant above the noise bespoke the presence of gift with frenzy. The tumult was not now distant, and Marsyas did not wish Junia's further aid. His search after Flora was not a thing to be published abroad. He glanced at the lights, looked about for a less circuitous route, and, with a word to her, plunged through the brake toward the revel. Before she had thought to protest, the forefront of a procession penetrated from the side of the aisle and, streaming across, broke through the green on the other side.