The City of Delight

The strange woman who had stood her ground was heard to say in a low

voice, half lost in the muffling of her wrappings: "One!"

Momus drove on leisurely and Laodice, knowing that she must not look,

slipped down in her place and wrapped her vitta over her face.

Pestilence was riding with them.

After a long time, Costobarus' camel ambled up beside hers, and she

ventured to uncover her eyes. Her father smiled at her with that same

heart-breaking smile which her mother had for her in face of trouble.

"The frosts! The frosts!" he whispered to Momus, and the mute laid

goad about his camel.

Aquila, seeing this haste, checked his horse's gait and fell back

beside the strange woman. Together they permitted the rest of the

party to ride ahead, while they talked in voices too restrained to be

heard.

"There is pestilence in this company," Aquila said angrily; "will that

not persuade you to abandon this plan?"

"No. When all of you are like to die and leave this great treasure

sitting out in the wilderness without a guardian?" she said lightly.

There was no trace of a servant's humility in her tone.

"Hast had the plague that thou seem'st to feel secure from it?" he

demanded.

"O no; then there would be no risk in this game. There is no sport in

an unfair advantage over conditions. No! But how comes this Costobarus

with you?"

"He would not trust his daughter and a dowry to me, alone."

"How shall we get to Emmaus, then?" she asked.

"We shall not get to Emmaus; so you must inform Julian, who will

expect us there," he declared.

The woman played with the silken reins of her camel. Behind her veil a

sarcastic smile played about the corners of her mouth. Aquila watched

her resentfully, waiting with an immense reserve of caustic words for

her refusal to accept the charge.

"So, my Mars of the gray temples, thou meanest in all faith to deliver

up this lady and her treasure to Julian?"

"By those same gray temples, I do! And hold thy peace about my white

hairs. Nothing made them so but thyself--and this evil plot in which I

am tangled. What does Julian mean to do with this poor creature?"

"He has not got her yet and by the complication thou seest now,

wearing its turban over one ear in yonder howdah, it may come to pass

that he will never have her--and her dowry."

"Pfui! How little you know this Julian! Besides, I am pledged to

deliver him--at least the treasure."

"And thou meanest to line his purse with this great treasure because

he paid thee to do it?"

"I shall; and be rid of it!"

The woman smiled sarcastically.