But, as many a man adores the children of the woman he might not marry, Alexander and Melissa daily grew dearer to Andreas.  He took a father’s interest in their welfare, and, needing little himself, he carefully hoarded his ample income to promote the cause of Christianity and encourage good works; but he had paid Alexander’s debts when his time of apprenticeship was over, for they were so considerable that the reckless youth had not dared confess the sum to his stern father.

Very soon after this, Alexander had become one of the most popular painters of the town; and when he proposed to repay his friend the money he had lent him, Andreas accepted it; but he added it to a capital of which the purpose was his secret, but which, if his prayers were heard, might return once more to benefit Alexander.  Diodoros, too, was as dear to the freedman as a son of his own could have been, though he was a heathen.  In the gymnasium and the race-course, or in the practice of the mysteries, the good seed which he sowed in the lad’s heart was trodden down.  Polybius, too, was an utter heathen; indeed, he was one of the priests of Dionysus and Demeter, as his wealth and position in the senate required.

Then, Diodoros had confessed to him that he hoped to win Melissa for his wife, and this had been adverse to Andreas’s hope and purpose of making a Christian of the girl; for he knew by experience how easily married happiness was wrecked when man and wife worship different gods.  But when the freedman had again seen the gem-cutter’s brutality and the girl’s filial patience, an inward voice had called to him that this gentle, gifted creature was one of those elect from among whom the Lord chose the martyrs for the faith; and that it was his part to lead her into the fold of the Redeemer.  He had begun the work of converting her with the zeal he put into everything.  But fresh doubts had come upon him on the threshold of the sick-room, after seeing the lad who was so dear to him, and whose eye had met his with such a trustful, suffering look.  Could it be right to sow the seed of discord between him and his future wife?  And supposing Diodoros, too, should be converted by Melissa, could he thus alienate from his father the son and heir of Polybius—­his benefactor and master?

Then, he remembered, too, to what a position he had risen through that master’s confidence in him.  Polybius knew nothing of the concerns of his house but from the reports laid before him by Andreas; for the steward controlled not merely the estate but the fortune of the family, and for years had been at the head of the bank which he himself had founded to increase the already vast income of the man to whom he owed his freedom.  Polybius paid him a considerable portion of each year’s profits, and had said one day at a banquet, with the epigrammatic wit of an Alexandrian, that his freedman, Andreas, served his interests as only one other man could do—­namely, himself—­but with the industry of ten.  The Christian greatly appreciated his confidence; and as he walked on by the side of Melissa, he told himself again and again that it would be dishonorable to betray it.