BOOK THE THIRD
2. Chapter II
THE NOONDAY EXCURSION ON THE CAMPANIAN SEAS.
'BUT tell me, Glaucus,' said Ione, as they glided down the rippling Sarnus
in their boat of pleasure, 'how camest thou with Apaecides to my rescue from
that bad man?'
'Ask Nydia yonder,' answered the Athenian, pointing to the blind girl, who
sat at a little distance from them, leaning pensively over her lyre; 'she
must have thy thanks, not we. It seems that she came to my house, and,
finding me from home, sought thy brother in his temple; he accompanied her
to Arbaces; on their way they encountered me, with a company of friends,
whom thy kind letter had given me a spirit cheerful enough to join. Nydia's
quick ear detected my voice--a few words sufficed to make me the companion
of Apaecides; I told not my associates why I left them--could I trust thy
name to their light tongues and gossiping opinion?--Nydia led us to the
garden gate, by which we afterwards bore thee--we entered, and were about to
plunge into the mysteries of that evil house, when we heard thy cry in
another direction. Thou knowest the rest.'
Ione blushed deeply. She then raised her eyes to those of Glaucus, and he
felt all the thanks she could not utter. 'Come hither, my Nydia,' said she,
tenderly, to the Thessalian.
'Did I not tell thee that thou shouldst be my sister and friend? Hast thou
not already been more?--my guardian, my preserver!'
'It is nothing,' answered Nydia coldly, and without stirring.
'Ah! I forgot,' continued Ione, 'I should come to thee'; and she moved along
the benches till she reached the place where Nydia sat, and flinging her
arms caressingly round her, covered her cheeks with kisses.
Nydia was that morning paler than her wont, and her countenance grew even
more wan and colorless as she submitted to the embrace of the beautiful
Neapolitan. 'But how camest thou, Nydia,' whispered Ione, 'to surmise so
faithfully the danger I was exposed to? Didst thou know aught of the
'Yes, I knew of his vices.'