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Updated: June 4, 2025


'My profit? cried poor Philammon, starting up. 'Good God! what object on earth can I have, but to rescue her from this infamy to purity and holiness? He had touched the wrong chord. 'Infamy? you accursed Egyptian slave! cried the prince, starting up in his turn, red with passion, and clutching at the whip which hung over his head. 'Infamy?

'Save her! for the love of God, save her! 'Whom? 'Hypatia! 'How long has her salvation been important to you, my good friend? 'For God's sake, said Philammon, 'go back and warn her!

'I did what I could to save her! answered Philammon. 'I know it. Forgive the words which I just spoke. Did we not both love her? And the little wretch sat down by Philammon's side, and as the blood dripped from his wounds upon the pavement, broke out into a bitter agony of human tears.

And if she went with Miriam, Pelagia must know her she may be in that very house at this moment! Arsenius had his reasons for suspecting that Philammon was but too right. But he contented himself with yielding to the boy's excitement, and set off with him in the direction of the dancer's house.

Crushed against a pillar, unable to move in the dense mass, he pressed his hands over his ears. He could not shut out those shrieks! When would they end? What in the name of the God of mercy were they doing? Tearing her piecemeal? Yes, and worse than that. And still the shrieks rang on, and still the great Christ looked down on Philammon with that calm, intolerable eye, and would not turn away.

'Stay, my son; you are young and rash, and do not know the city. Lie down here and sleep in the anteroom. Three hours hence the sun rises, and we go forth against the enemies of the Lord. Philammon threw himself on the floor in a corner, and slumbered like a child, till he was awakened in the gray dawn by one of the parabolani. 'Up, boy! and see what we can do.

Philammon, who ran like a desert ostrich, had soon outstripped all but Peter, when several more dark figures sprang out of doorways and corners and joined, or seem to join, the pursuit. Suddenly, however, after running a hundred yards, they drew up opposite the mouth of a side street; the assassin stopped also. Peter, suspecting something wrong, slackened his pace, and caught Philammon's arm.

Philopator, soon after the birth of this his only child, employed Philammon, at the bidding of his mistress, to put to death his queen and sister Arsinoë, or Eurydice, as she is sometimes called. He had already forgotten his rank, and his name ennobled by the virtues of three generations, and had given up his days and nights to vice and riot.

'The sooner the better. At what hour does the accursed woman lecture to-morrow, Peter? 'We saw her going to the Museum at nine this morning. 'Then go at nine to-morrow. There is money for you. 'What is this for? asked Philammon, fingering curiously the first coins which he ever had handled in his life. 'To pay for your entrance. To the philosopher none enters without money.

"Go up to Ramoth Gilead and prosper, young fool! Ay, go, and let her convert you. Touch the accursed thing, like Achan, and see if you do not end by having it in your tent." And with this encouraging sentence the two parted, and Philammon, on the following morning, followed the train of philosophers, students, and fine gentlemen to Hypatia's lecture-room.

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