in shadow, and the two ends of the knot stuck up over his forehead.
"Truly," he laughed, "between us we should have a beautiful Astyanax!"
He sat down again, calmer; but once more there began to throng before his eyes scenes and images that had nothing to do with the next day's lesson. He saw that he could not work in earnest, and decided to go to bed, thinking that rest would quiet his nerves, and that he could get up early in the morning and prepare his task with a fresher mind. So he went to bed and put out his lamp. But sleep would not come; he tossed about restlessly, and in the silence and darkness the very tension of his nerves made him more and more remorseful.
The long hours of the night passed slowly. At last, toward morning, he fell asleep; but his waking thoughts were distorted into a frightful nightmare, and he started up in terror. He had dreamt that his bed was the sea, while his pillow was a shark, and his head was in the jaws of the monster. Then the shark began to wear the face and shape of the merchant's elder daughter, and a voice—the voice of Liakos—sounded in his ear, repeating over and over:
"Ding, Dong! Ungrateful wretch! Ding, Dong! Ungrateful wretch!"
He sat up in bed, and as he wiped his dripping forehead with the silk handkerchief, which
