The wicket opened, and a voice spoke which he well remembered.
'You alive still, old Stephanus?
Who feeds you?
Open and teach me the art of living on nothing.' He who opened looked indeed the image of Famine--a fleshless, tottering creature, with scarce strength left to turn the key in the door.

His only companions in the house were his daughter and the dog.

Till not long ago there had been also the daughter's child, whom she had borne to Marcian, but this boy was dead.
'I'm glad to see you,' said Stephanus mysteriously, drawing his visitor into the atrium, and speaking as if the house were full of people who might overhear him.

'Your coming to-day is a strange thing.

Have you, perchance, had a dream ?' 'What dream should I have had ?' answered Sagaris, his superstition at once stirring.
The old man related that last night, for the third time, he had dreamt that a treasure lay buried in this house.