Marinus watched them go with a mingled sense of longing and loss. Only when they had passed out of sight did he release the pent-up sigh that had formed in his chest, and relaxed his tight grip on the sides of the platform.

  "Chrysanthe," he whispered to the night, as if to utter her name might bring the girl back again.

  Instead, Anneus came bounding up the lane, a bag slung over one shoulder – oblivious to all that had taken place in his absence. He whistled up to Marinus in the lookout.

  "I'll come down, don't bother," the youth answered, still in a daze, as the fisherman set his foot on the bottom rung of the ladder.

  "I've seen the thief," Marinus called down softly.

  "What! Why didn't you sound the alarm? Oh, this is terrible!"

  Anneus was quite beside himself. He dropped the bag at his feet and started hopping about, plucking at his beard with both hands.

  "What do you mean?" Marinus asked, the fisherman's obvious distress pulling him back to his senses. "I've solved the mystery – that must be good for something – and besides, you haven't heard the full story."

  He gingerly made his way back down, and slid the last six feet or so with his heels wrapped around the smooth trunk, landing heavily beside the fisherman.

  "It doesn't matter," the poor fellow was saying, now biting the ends of his fingers as if they had wronged him. "The master, Agon, means to punish the man on whose watch the figs were taken. Onesimus, a friend of mine, thinks that was the whole point in his asking us... Agon already suspected me and the others, he said..."

  He aimed a kick at the base of the tree and recoiled with a whimper, clutching his foot.

  "Stop that!" Marinus said, nearly his usual self again. "There's no use in punishing yourself; we'll just have to work something out, to exonerate you."

  He ran a hand over his chin, thinking it over.

  "Who is this 'Onesimus', anyway?" he asked. "Does he work for Agon?"

  "Heavens no!" Anneus said, forgetting his misery for the moment. "Onesimus is a proper lord, one of Agon's betters, though not half as rich. I meant to introduce you and Pelleus to him anyway. We can pay him a visit tomorrow. Why," he slapped his brow, "he'll probably have a solution to this conundrum... he's a real deep thinker, Onesimus – the cleverest man I've ever met..."

  He looked greatly cheered up by this new thought, and Marinus marvelled at the vicissitudes of emotion in this funny little faun of a man – though he'd had his own ups and downs in the past hour, too.

  "Anneus," he said in a gentle voice, "who else lives in that great manor house, besides Agon, the master?"

  The fisherman began to rattle off a list to himself, counting on his fingers.

  "Well there are the farmers; gardeners; the housekeeper; potters; cooks; the swineherd..." he said.

  "I mean, does he have any family or..." Marinus tailed off as Anneus fixed him with a surprisingly shrewd look.

  "You said you saw the thief, master Marinus," he began.

  "Just Marinus will do, and yes, I did," the youth replied in a hurry. "But in order to be sure of who it is, I need you to fill me in on the residents of that house over there."

  He gestured to the manor.

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  "Not here – don't want to be overheard," Anneus said, picking up his bag and leading Marinus away by the arm. "It's best if we talk it over in my place. Pelleus was still up when I left him – he should hear this too."

  Marinus agreed, and they trotted up the lane together, finding their friend slumped over Anneus's table in a light doze.

  "It seems a shame to wake him," Anneus whispered, but their arrival had already disturbed Pelleus. He raised his head groggily.

  "Do you have anywhere we might sleep, Anneus?" he asked, stretching his arms in the cramped space. Anneus gave Marinus a look as if to say their tale could wait, and set about finding them sleeping quarters. There was only room on the floor of the hut for one, but it was a balmy night, and the fisherman's nets served admirably as hammocks, once secured to the trees.

  Once again Marinus found himself lying out under the stars, although this time his friend Pelleus lay just a few feet away, on the other side of a beech tree. Tired as they both were, neither of them felt like going to sleep just yet. Anneus was snoring in his hut, and this was their first chance to speak privately with one another since their landing on Arcadia.

  "It's strange; this is just like being back at the Lyceum..." Marinus said.

  "That's funny, I was thinking the same thing," Pelleus replied, sounding very close in the darkness.

  "Listen, Pelleus, about the story you told us... it doesn't bother me in the slightest... just in case it was troubling you. You're just the same old mate I had back in Athens. Rather less changed than I am, really, but I suppose that's how I recognised you at once..." Marinus said in a great rush. He was conscious of a new sort of reserve in his his friend, and a sombreness that revealed itself in silence.

  "I appreciate your saying that, Marinus; it means a lot," the lad replied, "but you needn't be concerned for me. If I've been a bit withdrawn it has little to do with my old life. It's the question of my father that's been weighing on my mind... but don't mention that to Anneus."

  Marinus chuckled.

  "You may rest easy there – I wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I've a secret of my own, of a sort. I feel I ought to tell you first, before the fisherman sticks his oar in, so to speak..." he rambled. He knew better than to pursue the issue of Pelleus's father at this point, and so he passed on to the tale of what had taken place during his stint on the watchtower. When he got to talking about the girl Chrysanthe, Pelleus was very quiet, though Marinus had so much to say on the subject that he might never have noticed. At last he asked for his friend's thoughts about his chances, and Pelleus was forced to weigh in.

  "What can I say? I can hardly speak from experience..." he said morosely, and Marinus could have kicked himself.

  Insensitive fool! he thought, and he bit his lip.

  "Did she seem a nice girl? Generous? Kind?" Pelleus went on thoughtfully.

  "More than nice! She's gorgeous..." Marinus groaned, and in the answering silence he considered the question more deeply.

  "...but kind? No, I cannot say she came across that way – not to old Mopsy – but Pelleus, you should have seen her guardian, she had this hideous-"

  But Pelleus did not seem to care how grotesque the old matron's appearance was – he let out a loud snore which quite mollified the young Marinus. He tried to get some sleep himself, but it was a long time before he nodded off. His mind was full of images of Chrysanthe, and desperate schemes to win her affections.