'
'God forbid!'
Marcian summoned the waiting servant, and ordered that the traveller
should be straightway admitted. A few minutes passed in absolute
silence, then, as the two stood gazing towards the entrance, they
saw the gleam of a casque and of a breastplate, and before them
stood Basil. His arms extended, Marcian stepped forward.
'So soon, O brave Basil!' he exclaimed. 'What speed you must have
made! How long is it since my letter reached you?'
There passed the semblance of an embrace between them. Basil was
death pale; he spoke in hollow tones, as though his tongue were
parched, and looked with bloodshot eyes from Marcian to the
ecclesiastic.
'I am travel-worn. Your hospitality must restore me.'
'That it shall,' replied Marcian. 'Or, better still,' he added, 'the
hospitality of my father Gaudiosus.' He touched the priest's arm, as
if affectionately. 'For here there is little solace; barely one
chamber habitable. You have often heard me describe, O Basil, my
poor, ruinous island villa, and now at length you behold it. I did
not think you would pass this way, or I would have prepared for your
fitting reception.
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